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yndrgrl · 2 months

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yandere! dabi x fem reader?

you're a fool to think that you could trick japan's no. 1 mafia boss, yandere! dabi , & get away with it

long ass fic. crime lord x spy. quirkless! au. heavily tatted! dabi lmaooo. extra dark romance. fem! reader. ooc! dabi. picture "diet mountain dew" playing, thanks. manz is OBSESSED obsessed.

warnings: nsfw, depictions of extreme/hardcore sex, sex slavery, obsessive behavior, making "movies," mentions of heavy stalking & panty stealing, sex in front of his men, sadism, reader passes out, light knifeplay,

a/n: uhhh is this too much (i hope not cuz i have a couple more hardcore ones cooking) 😭 also look, i'm finally doing the requests that are long overdue... my fault, g.

"boss, she's here," one of dabi's goons said after he knocked on the large, mahogany door. there was shuffling, laughter, then a muffled "send her in," that followed.

"you heard the man," the other shrugged, opening the door for you. after you, they followed into the room.

your heart was pounding out of your chest & there was a violent ringing in your ear. your breathes were shallow & shaken, yet you had to maintain a calm composure because, in the eyes of japan's most notorious criminal mastermind, you were merely a recruiter for his mob. you're playing the part as a low-life thug/seductress who's in desperate need of money.

of course, that's not the case. you had a good head on your shoulders. you were working for japan's government, a special operation unit ran by a sergeant dubbed "endeavor." your mission is to gather information, find out their next big drug trade, & bust it while keeping your head down. & honestly, it's been going well. you were prepared to fight off dabi's goons left & right because, well... you're a woman, & they are horny, egotistical assholes.

however, none of them approached you. all of them looked scared of you, actually. you felt like a badass, but it was also compromising your mission. how in god's name are you supposed to collect intel of no one will talk with you?

"(y/n), baby, please have a seat," said dabi, snapping you out of your thoughts. you didn't know if you should smile or stay stoic, but your nerves got the better of you & your lips curled upwards.

"yes, sir," you said back. you allowed yourself to notice him, his features. he wore a suit, presumably to look professional even though it just made him look intimidating. with his jet black hair, bags under his piercing blue eyes, & pale skin littered with ink, he had an aura around him, & there's no wonder why or how he's gotten so powerful. his tattoos that were visible to you were mainly on his face & on his hands; there was a bold line stretching ear to ear, dipping in the crevasse of his mouth. it made him look like he had a smile. under the bold line were more intricate tattoos-- flowers, thorns, knives, the works.

"please, call me whatever your heart desires, princess," he purred, & the doors of his lavish office slammed shut. there was no reception in this part of his headquarters, you've already checked. you tried reasoning with your worries, telling yourself that there was no way you've been caught, you haven't even talked to anyone!

you replied, "i am anything but a princess, sir."

"sticking with sir?" he questioned, & you nodded, then he continued, "you can be anything you want to be, no?"

"in the perfect world, i guess i could," you said with furrowed brows. why were you in here exactly?

"no, no, no. that's not what i mean."

"my apologies, what did you mean?" you asked, fighting yourself not to fidget. fidgeting means that your nervous, being nervous means you've done something you're not supposed to, & you haven't dont anything wrong.

"i mean, you," he pointed at you, dragging the word longer than he had to, "you. can be anything you want." he was met with a calculating silence. the hairs on the back of your neck stood tall.

finally, you questioned, "why am i here, sir? i'm just a... you know, a concubine." that was your role.

"oh, are you now? what exactly are you doing for my company?" he leaned forward, his face resting in the palm of his hand. he looked bored, yet there was a twinkle in his eyes that said otherwise. it finally sunk in what kind of position you are in. there are two men guarding the only exit, there are three armed men standing behind dabi, & the infamous crime lord himself was sitting across from you, only a desk length away.

"i'm sending men your way so you can grow you um.. company," you told him, & that was the story you're sticking with.

dabi, with a smirk, muttered under his breath with a laugh, "you're fuckin' priceless, doll." with a clear voice this time, he asked, "has anyone touched you?"

what kind of question is that? "yes, sir." no, no one has, you were lying.

he still had a smirk on his face, his bright blue eyes drilling into yours. he fished something in his pocket, his eyes still glued on you. in your head, you kept screaming it was a gun or a knife, he was going to shoot you point blank, you're about to die-

"why do you look so scared, hun?" taunted dabi, finally throwing his hand out of his pocket, & you flinched. this is it, he's about to kill you with a... lighter? wait. he snapped his fingers with the hand that his face was resting on. one of his henchmen quickly handed him something. lighting it, he sneered, "it's just a cigarette~"

he inhaled deep, & blew out a puff a of grey smoke your direction. "you're so jumpy, babe."

"i'm just confused why i'm here is all," you swallowed, your eyes watering slightly because of the smoke.

"i'm considering you for a promotion," he said in an as-a-matter-of-fact tone.

"a promotion?"

"yeah, you could call it that. instead of being some recruiter-prostitute, how does 'dabi's little housewife slut' sound instead? nice ring to it, huh?" he said, breathing in the tobacco & studying your expression.

"i-i'm sorry?" you coughed out, shocked.

"you can be anything, can't you? that's your whole job, am i wrong?" he questioned, eyes darkening. his playful demeanor was gone, & something more sinister glossed over his expression.

"i'm not sure what you mean-" you were cut off by his fist slamming down on his desk, the things on it vibrating & falling off.

"(y/n), do you think i'm stupid?"

"n-no, of course not, sir!" you tried to reason, maybe he was upset about something else.

"do you think i'm fuckin' stupid?" the man scowled, standing up to his feet. his henchmen gripped their weapons tighter, their backs just a bit more straighter. oh, he knew.

"i don't think you're stupid, sir. you're a smart man, i know that-"

"though your flattery gets me hard, it's unwanted right now, doll," dabi told you as he walked towards you while you were just sitting there, your hands on your lap. you picked the dirt from under your nails, the balls of your feet grinding the vintage rug underneath you. your eyes were trained on him in fear that, if you looked away, he'd pounce.

under your breath, you repeated unsure, "hard?" you didn't mean to say anything, it just slipped out. suddenly, as he was standing directly on your side, he gripped the arms of your chair & forced it to turn. he caged you between him & the chair, him bent down so his face was only inches away from you. you could smell the smoke on his breath, his expensive cologne, & faint iron smell-- whether it was blood or gunpowder, you didn't want to find out.

"you're so bold, spying on me~ i didn't think you'd actually accept the job, yet here you are, thinking you are just so clever, huh?" he laughed in your face, but his tone was still deep.

"y-you know?" you stuttered out, eyes wide. he was so close to you, he was a killer with no remorse, that's what they told you before you took this mission. you've heard it all before, & you've taken guys like him down, but they've never caught on to you. you had no plan, all you could do is hope that your crew knew your location.

"of course i know, (y/n)~ i know so much about you, & i must say, i'm such a fan," he started, looking at you up and down. you weren't cowering away from him, but you also weren't confident. you were going to try something, he knew it. "i'm honored to be your next big case. it's such a shame you won't be completing your mission though."

you swallowed thickly, & you gave him your best don't-fuck-with-me glare you could muster. "what now then? you caught me, you gonna kill me now?" you barked, hoping to intimidate him. instead, you were met with a bone chilling smile.

he chuckled, brushing his fingers through his wild hair, "oh no, sweetheart, i'm afraid you don't understand~" you started to search for something under your skirt-your gun- when he tightly gripped your wrist. "don't," he warned as he matched your glare.

the firm grasp you had on your gun loosened & it fell on the floor. he kicked it towards one of his men, who swiftly unloaded the mag & tossed it in the trash. "if it's information you want, you're not getting it outta me."

"wrong again, you get one more chance."

"would you stop fucking with me!?" you screamed at him, ready to oppose anything he wanted you to do. he gripped your chin, his fingers squishing your cheeks together, & your hands shot up & held his wrist as you tried to wriggle out.

"watch your mouth when you talk to me," he warned, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. "such a dirty mouth. if you were anyone else, i would've shot you instantly. consider yourself lucky."

"shtawp! le'me go!" you muttered through your puckered up lips, & surprisingly, he listened. once he let you go, you through yourself back into the chair to create as much distance as possible (it wasn't much). "wh-what are you going on about, dabi?"

"i thought i was, 'sir,' doll? what happened? we friends now?" he teased. the man gave you a fake pout & an eye roll.

"you wish. now answer me. what are you t-" he locked eyes with you once again, & you stumbled over your words, "t-talking about?"

he let out a dark chuckle, kneeling in front of you so his face was nearly resting on your lap. "princess, haven't you notice something weird has been happening ever since you took down shigiraki almost a year ago? don't you always feel like you're never alone? things appear in your car out of nowhere? your panties go missing from your apartment? haven't you ever wondered why you always feel so uneasy no matter where you are?"

your expression shifted from confused to terrified.

"you think you're all alone when you're scrubbing those perfect tits in the shower, huh? you really put on a show f'me when you masterbate. so fuckin' nasty, you know. i would love to know who's on your mind when you fingerfuck yourself," he said, licking his lips. his suit pants were tight enough that it was hard to miss the growing bulge. your eyes were teary out of embarrassment. "but i think i know who's on your mind when you do such dirty things."

"y-you don't know anything. m-my crew will be here soon o-once they realize i-i've been caught!" you fought, yet he had no care in the world. he through open your legs & tsked. you were told to wear a short skirt to "make it more believable," & now you're regretting everything. you tried to press your hands in between your thighs to block your clothed pussy out of his curious gaze.

"do you think so? cuz i think that they've completely forgetten about you 'cuz someone gave endeavor an anonymous tip on where my next drug deal will be held. i think that's more important than some captured spy, to be honest," he told you, "besides -men, hold her down- i have a feeling you actually really want this."

his goons, as they were told, held your wrists to the arms of the chair while another stood behind you, his gun looming just barely in the line of your vision. your legs were spread, & your arms were restrained. you thrashed as dabi's hot touch trailed up your calf to your inner thigh. your face was red hot in anger & flushed in shame. to fit your role, you wore a dark purple thong. your body betrayed you, a wet spot staining your panties. "st-stop! you-you're under arrest!"

"i-i-i am! oh n-no! wh-whatever will i do?!" he mocked, & his men laughed like he was some comedian. "please, (y/n), love, drop the fuckin' act. it's cute & all, but i'd rather you'd just stop pretending, i want you to enjoy this as much as i'm going to~" he faux pleaded, but he knew, either way, you were going to love it eventually. he heard your sighs of content whenever you read 'good guy x bad guy' spicy romances, he recorded you moaning his name when you first got assigned to this case.

"i-i really won't tell anyone, p-please let me go," you begged, watching him stand up & take off his blazer. he threw off his tie, unbuttoned his white dress shirt, revealing his toned, tatted body. every part of his torso, chest, & arms were inked with dark grey tattoos. on his left pec was your initials in some fancy, grand font-- except it was a fleshy pink. a healed scar.

"you like it? or are you scared? i can't really tell," dabi questioned, leaning close to you. his guard's hands were replaced by his. "(y/n), if you tell me to stop nicely, maybe i will. granted, i'll lock you up until you're ready, but i'd wait. so tell me, with that dirty mouth of yours, what do you want?"

"uhm... w-what are you talking about?" you tried to avoid his inquiries, it shamed you to say the least. if you were to say what you wanted -what you truly wanted- you'd betray your country. you didn't want to answer.

"now, or later?" he repeated, tapping your wrist. "i'm gonna need to hear you say somethin' or i'll just do whatever i want, & trust me; you won't be able to handle it."

you were silent, your eyes darted from his icy ones, to his cold lips, to his tattooed body, & back to his eyes. avoidant, maybe that's all you have to do. he'll get bored of someone quiet, no?

"(y/n)~ sweetheart~ you're making a bad choice by keeping your mouth shut, unless that's what you want. you want me to use you, hm?" he teased, biting his lip afterward. dabi knew that look you were giving him because it's the one he gives you all the time. pure, primal lust. intrigue. but mostly lust.

you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. your heart was beating out of your chest, your voice caught onto your throat. you pondered, just for a moment, & you let your impulse control the outcome; you stayed silent.

after shutting your mouth, dabi smirked devilishly. "you've made your choice, remember that. so don't get too mad at me, 'kay? i give you permission to enjoy this as much as you want, but you probably didn't need my permission," he snickered. the man didn't even let you answer before capturing your rosy lips with his.

his kisses were intense, rough, yet so, so needy for you. in between pants & kisses, he whispered things like, "i've held myself back f' you," &, "god, fuckin' finally." your wrists were once again restrained by his henchmen, while his hands wandered around your body. as one hand cup your precious face, the other groped your tits through your clothes. if one shifted around your neck, the other one would be gripping your hips, bruising you already.

his pierced tongue explored your mouth. saliva dripped from the corners of your mouth, dribbling down your chin. his tongue was down your throat as he choked you. your spine jolted when two, long fingers began to ghost up and down your pussy, pushing a little harder over your clothes clit. he hooked the front part of your thong & pulled up. you let out a muffled scream as your panties disappeared in between your pussy lips. they were drenched in your arousal, & now you started leaking onto your skirt & his chair.

he finally released you from his kiss, your lungs burning. you let in a few shallow breaths before dabi bit your neck. he still had your thong wrapped around his finger, & every so often, he would pull upwards, & a scream of pained pleasure would follow in suit. bite marks & hickeys covered your neck. "all mine~" he purred, licking your tender neck.

"let's get these fuckin' clothes off'a ya," snarled dabi through gritted teeth. it was like opening a present for him. he tore through your t-shirt with ease, not even bothering undressing you all the way so the fabric just hung off of your shoulders. he suddenly fished a knife out of his pocket & cut your bra off of your body. he glided the dull side between the valley of your breasts, down to your heaving stomach. he shoved your mini skirt up around your waist & he cut off your soaked thong.

"fuckin' hell, babe. i've been dreaming about this," he groaned, stabbing the blade into his wooden desk. dabi squeezed your plush thighs, his handprints bruised on your skin. what was strange was how his men acted while the two of you were intimate; they were stoic & unwavering, their hardened faces expressionless.

they were under dabi's complete control, & that's just how he is. he knows how to get people on his side, he knows when they're interested, that's why he's such an influential man. "you really thought you could trick me?" he barked, pulling his leather belt out of his pants' loops. he fastened the belt around your wrists. "poor, little (y/n)~ all hot & bothered in front of the enemy~" with your hands bound, your legs were put onto the arms of the chair. once again, you were restrained by his men. ashamed & -quite honestly- turned on, you were splayed out on the chair, legs spread & pussy throbbing.

he undid the button on his pants, & they fell to the floor. his boxers were soon to follow. you were gawking his member, you couldn't help it. it's the biggest, thickest, you've ever been with in your life.

a smug, toothy grin stretched on his face as he watched your reaction. "you look shocked, doll," he noticed. dabi stood right in front of you, the tip of his cock gently slapping your clit. the contact made you jolt every time. "you've never been with someone like me, huh? that's why you're so quiet?"

you nodded sheepishly while you stared up at him with your doe eyes. he coated himself in your arousal before lining himself up with your entrance. dabi, in such a hushed tone it almost sounded sweet, cooed, "it's a shame i'm gonna use that perfect body. i want you to remember you chose this."

"y-yes sir, i-i remember," you replied back. when he whispered in your ear, it sent electricity up your spine, & you'd subconsciously arch your back.

he placed a firm kiss on your jaw, & he praised, "that's my girl~" dabi slid past you folds, diving himself into your entrance. he let out a throaty groan as he through his head back. his adam's apple bobbed, his hair becoming even more disheveled. dabi wasn't a man known for his slow, savory approach; his gentle demeanor was short-lived. he forced his cock into your dripping hole balls-deep. you let out a breathy scream, eyes widen for a second.

dabi towered over you, muscles flexed with every thrust. he pounded you into the chair that, with every thrust, you felt the chair legs wobble underneath you. he shooed his guards away from you because, in all honesty, you were not getting away from him. he's wanted you for too damn long, he's been patient enough.

honestly, it surprised him how slow you were taking the mission. you were behind enemy lines for months, you'd think that you would want to spend the least amount of time there as possible. it's no matter though, he has you right where he wants you. "aren't you worried, (y/n)? you're so quick to trust me," he pointed out in between his harsh thrusts.

every jerk made your tits bounce; he was fucking you so hard that your hearing became fuzzy. he kept hitting your g-spot over & over with the same roughness. "mnh~ t-too fast~ ngh-ahh," you whimpered. did he say something? if he didn't, you didn't even notice. it just was so overwhelming. even though you couldn't keep your mind straight, dabi still kept fucking you like you were some sex doll.

what snapped you back to reality was when a snap echoed off the walls, & your elevation changed. there was a pressure against your chest & a slight pain your back that was soon stretched out. the chair broke from beneath you. your head was cupped by dabi's tattooed hand. he laid flush against you while he folded you in half. your knees were to your chest & your legs rested on his broad shoulders.

at this angle, you could feel his cock in your stomach pumping in & out of your pussy. you let out a scream of pleasure as you begged, "sl-slow down! c-can't handle it!"

"aww~ i'm so sorry, doll face. i can't do that for you. maybe next time though," he joked as though he wasn't pounding you into oblivion. tears of overstimulation & slight frustration welled in your eyes. it was like you were cursed to overwhelming pleasure & moaning out his name forever.

god, did he have stamina. after an hour of raw fucking, he flipped in so many different positions. after the mating press, he put you into missionary with a tight grip on your plush hips. your arousal stained his expensive carpet, not that he cared because he'll just hire someone to clean it.

while he missionary, he let out a hearty groan, & his voice broke for a second. he held you tight as he drained his cum inside of your weeping hole. you thought that would be the end, but he took only a moment to breath before flipping you over to fuck you from behind.

ass in the air, back arched, & your face pressed against the ground, you saw stars that began to cloud your already-blurry vision. he rubbed your sensitive clit while he pumped his cock in & out of gorgeous, pitiful you. you whined for an ounce of sympathy. it was your first mistake thinking he was a normal man, & your second mistake was staying quiet when he so-graciously gave you a choice on how you wanted him.

"you're taking me so well, doll~" he praised with kisses on your arched back. you clenched around him when he said that, & his brow quirked up. "oh? you like that? you're squeezing so tight after i said that," he laughed. "you're such a pretty girl, all cock drunk just f'me~"

"st-stop it, you're b-being so-so mean," you sniffled but you didn't actually mean it... you were kind of a brat, but that's a secret you'd never tell. xoxo.

once you said that, he went more rough than before-- something you didn't realize was possible. you've creamed on his cock more times than you could count on your fingers with both your hands, yet he's only ejaculated once. the white stars started out as tiny dots, yet every time you came on dabi's thick, hard cock, they grew bigger. "g-gunna, i'm g-gunna... cu.. cum," you droned, letting the white stars overtake your vision, & all the sounds you hear became nothing more than a buzz. the only thing you could hear is dabi's laughter as you slowly slipped from consciousness. you squirted all over his cock -something you've never done before- then passed out. you went completely limp as subconscious sighs of pure hormonal ecstasy mixed with your heaving breath.

"uh oh, someone couldn't handle it," dabi tutted, yet he was still relentless as ever, make good of his promise to use you however he pleased. "what time is it?" he called out, & one of his men answered.

"hmm... i think it's about time for the show to begin then~" dabi said, petting your knotted hair as he scratched your scalp (all while he's still inside you, mind you). he came all over your ass a few moments later, then he carried you to his leather couch.

~~~

"where the fuck are we?" endeavor muttered as he stood in front of an abandoned movie theater.

"this is where the tip said dabi would be," his right hand man, hawks, told him. they were both in their tactical gear equipped with war-grade guns & knives at their disposal. soldiers rushed out the back of van in a single file line & they branched off to surround the building. some hid within the trees & branches, others crouched beside the doors to the building, but they were all waiting for one thing; endeavor's command. "should we try contacting (y/n) to see if she's heard anything?"

"we can't," endeavor said shortly, it would compromise the mission if they reached out to you before the designated time. you've agreed to have a twenty minute rendezvous with one of your "co-workers" every three days at three in the morning. your next scheduled rendezvous would be tomorrow.

his walkie-talkie buzzed off, & one of the squad captains said, "team one, in position."

"team two, in position."

"team three, in position."

"team four, in position."

endeavor, after hearing each captain, responded, "team zero, in position. take initiative in three... two... one...!" the burly man kicked open the main entrance door then pointed his gun around, using the flashlight to scan the area.

on his radio, he suddenly heard, "we've found something in theater nine!"

"hold your position, i am on my way. any surrounding teams make your way towards theater nine."

he stepped over debris, ignored any graffiti on the wall, & noted just how dark the atmosphere got the further he went down the corridor. down the hall was a glowing number nine above the very end left door. the fact that there was still electricity running through the building made him wonder how long dabi has been using this place for deliveries. it made him upset that he was right under his nose.

for years he's been hunting this man, this mafia who always seemed to be two steps ahead of him. now? now he had the upper hand. he has the newest, strongest equipment. his men were in the peak physical condition with reaction times as fast as f1 drivers. yet why was it this easy? he couldn't help but wonder.

endeavor reached theater nine, hawks close behind. the rest of his team stayed out of the room for look out. the other teams were already in the theater, fingers on their guns' trigger. it made a few of them jump when the projector started. "there's a man up there!" one yelled, & immediately endeavor turned over his shoulder to shoot at the projector window.

the bullet shattered the window, narrowly missing the shadowy figure. a team was already in pursuit, the captain speaking through their radio to let the others know. the projector was still running, & a voice caught endeavor's attention. his breath hitched, eyes narrowed.

"hello, endeavor~" greeted dabi, shirtless & coy as ever. "right on time, how did i know you were gonna be here?" he taunted, & endeavor noticed dabi's icy eyes darting down then back to the camera. all that was in frame was his upper half, a grand bookshelf in the background. his arm rested stretched out on the back his sofa. the other was in his lap.

"now before you leave & try to take this film for whatever, i wanna give you some peace in mind. my initial plan was just to blow all of you gullible fuckers up, but your cute little spy begged me not to, so you all better thank her. bad news though, you're not gonna see her any time soon," dabi sighed with fake sadness.

whispers erupted from endeavors soldiers. "(y/n)? is he talking about (y/n)?" "fuck... you don't think he..."

"don't get you panties in a twist, she's more than alright. i take good care of her. honestly, i should thank you for sending her right to me. when we get married, i might invite you to the wedding~" he cackled, & a cough was heard through the video. dabi suddenly looked down & yanked something, no, someone up. the back of your head was seen on the bottom of the camera.

"you fucker," endeavor cursed, even though it would fall on deaf ears. he couldn't tear his eyes away from the video. he wasn't even studying it anymore, he was just listening in disbelief.

"i made this movie to... send a message, i guess you could say," he shrugged nonchalantly. he looked back down to you, & his eyes softened. "c'mere, princess," he whispered, & as though you were hypnotized, you climbed atop his lap. "face the camera, show everyone how pretty you are~" & you did as you were told.

gasps filled the theater, nearly everyone looked away & took off their helmets. "oh, my god," hawks said in shock, it just slipped out. he looked at his -self-proclaimed- partner to gauge his reaction. endeavor couldn't tear his icy blue eyes away from the screen. he was as stiff as a statue, breath held.

the camera zoomed out, & there you were in dabi's bare lap, he held your legs wide open. your eyelids drooped, drool made your lips glossy, & you were practically limp in his hold. goops of cum seeped out of your puffy pussy, there was ropes of his semen covered your thighs & lower stomach. hickeys & hand-shape marks bruised your skin. instead of yearning eyes, begging for help, you had a nearly lovesick smile on your face. gently, dabi kissed your head, pecking down to your cheeks & he said hushed sweet-nothings into your ear.

"don't ever try to spy on me again, endeavor. & don't try to save (y/n), she doesn't need it. i promise i'll take such good care of her~"

333 notes · View notes

splataii · 1 year

Text

so uh @b1ueprinc3 made a post and i was inspired to make this drabble.

pervert manager dabi x male reader

cw: sub/bottom male reader, top/dom character, dacryphilia, degradation, minor exhibitionism, groping

anyway dabi first meets you an just thinks ur so fucking cute. he just loves your enegry and attitude, and becomes a lil too eager to train you, always being a lil touchy. hes down horrendous, always grabbing ur ass to congratulate you for a job well done at the end of the day or whatever.

insists he a “hands on learning” typa guy. always grabbing you by the waist so he can grind his obvious boner against your ass as he scoots behind you. always grabs u by the back of the neck, rubbing a thumb up its side as he leans over your shoulder to look at whatever work has you occupied. grabs you by the beltloop when youre passing him so he can spin you around and tell you about this “important work related thing” while he keeps his fingers pressed into your hips.

he already thinks you look pretty good in the assigned uniform, but one day, he has the genius idea to spill some water or something over you so you're forced to change into a top that's a couple sizes too small (which he insists is the only available uniform, yes it's mandatory, no you can't go home and change).

he promises it was an accident, and that he’ll wash it for you (despite the fact you insist you can clean it yourself) but instead spends his time dropping random shit on the ground so he can see your pants strain against ur ass and the way your shirt rides up your back.

the liar also takes your old shirt to the backroom to fist his cock with, pretending it's ur fucked out face he's cumming on. you ain't never getting that shit back

speaking of jerking off, this bitch does it all the time. specifically does it when youre getting off break and heading to the break rooms, so you can hear the sound of him shamelessly moaning your name as he finishes to another one of his gross fantasies of you laying spread out for him in his bed. he exits the stall and smiles when he sees your face like its no big. always makes sure to give ur ass a nice slap and some half assed “work hard” crap before he leaves you totally embarrassed.

nyway he also a bit overprotective, never stepping more than a couple feet away from you while you're working with a customer, and even other coworkers. he knows people know how cute you are. why would he leave his sweet boy to deal with those random mofos? he just stands behind you glaring when he feels someone is getting too close. you get a little confused, when they eventually leave, terrified, but he's always there to comfort you. your ass is his, you don't need no one else baby<3

he can have a bit of a mean streak sometimes tho, stretching you thin. whenever you (expectedly) fail to meet his impossible deadlines, he’s teasing you. talking about what a dumb little boy you are. he could probably fire you, if he wanted to. but he wont. if you could do this one little thing for him.. he pulls you into an old storage closet, freeing his cock from the confines of his pants so he can slap it on your face and spread his pre all over your cheek and nose. he can't help it, you just look a lot cuter this way. besides, he knows you can take it. dumb little boys like you are only made for one thing. since you're such a bad employee, show him what a damn good whore you are.

dabi claims he's only mean cause he cares. boys like you need to be taught a lesson so no one can take advantage of you. but sometimes, he plays like he's gonna make you answer calls while hes spearing you on his dick, just so he can see your pretty tears as you shake ur head no.

once again, he can have complete one eighty's, giving you all these bonuses and gifts at work saying “you deserve it” and all that shit, but everybody at work knows the reason you get all this special treatment is cause he slutting you out behind closed doors.

at the end of the day, you’re really just dabi’s personal whore. and everyone knows it.

#imma keep it a buck in the tabs #i never have n prolly never will finish mha #so ion know know dabi #but like the way ppl write him is soo good #an he a lil cutie patootie fr #nyway yeah #mha x bottom male reader #dabi x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #male reader insert #x black male reader #male reader smut #splataii writes

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kiame-sama · 7 months

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Chubby Cuddles - (Yandere!Dabi x Chubby!Reader)

Warnings; yandere, mention of kidnapping, NSFW, non-con, rough, overstimulation, mentions of burns, spanking, Dabi likes being called degrading words, mention of ongoing non-con, gender neutral reader, chubby reader, very little- if any at all- plot, Dabi is objectively an asshole,

~~~~~~~~

Slowly rolling his hips, Dabi realized the warm and plush feeling of his dearest's body pressed up against his own was soothing in ways he never expected. Each time his sharp hips pressed so close to the squishy thighs of his lover, he couldn't help but want more. He loved the way the soft flesh was so easy to take handfuls of, squeezing and toying with the ample body that lay next to him.

Sure, they were not there of their own free will, but them just being there with him was enough for him. He adored the warm feeling of their plush body against his own burned flesh, basking in the pleasure of being entertained with them. Even if they struggled and whimpered each time he kissed their sweet chubby cheeks, he couldn't help but feel like he deserved this one thing.

He deserved to have them however he wanted.

He was the one to hunt them down and bring them back with him, after all. They had not been too pleased with the man breaking into their home at night and he certainly kidnapped them earlier than he would have liked. Plans change in the heat of the moment and then waking up to him rummaging through their dirty laundry was enough to let them know what a deranged pervert he was.

"L-leave me alone you- you sick pervert-!"

Their voice was strained and tinged with tears as they whined and gasped, trying to put as much venom in their tone as possible. The words had the opposite intended effect on him however. Each degrading word was like a sick shot of dopamine to Dabi's ruined mind, only pounding his hips forward even harder.

Due to being behind them and on his side, Dabi could feel the warm slap of their round ass against his stomach, his hands sinking into their plush hips. He couldn't stop his fingernails from digging into that warm fat and just losing himself in the feeling of his cock being suffocated by their plush body. The squeeze was enough to keep him going even if they happened to pass out like they did that first night he took them.

"Fuck... And what else? What else am I, Doll-face? Tell me how mean and awful I am..!"

"You- you bastard! You're sick, and disgusting, and a monster, and-!"

The soft figure he lay next to cut off with a cute squeal of overstimulation as their third orgasm of the evening washed over them. Their body tensed up and Dabi couldn't help but moan deeply, moving to lay on top of their warm body and hump them viciously like a rabbit in a rut. Even as they began to babble about being too sensitive to handle his continued treatment, he ignored them.

Part of his mind wondered if giving them a nice burn on that plush round ass of theirs would shut them up, but he decided he liked them begging more than being silent. If anything, their pathetic voice pleading for him to have mercy on them only spurred him on faster and harder. He loved the way each thrust resulted in a nice jiggle through their body as it withstood the impact of his hips against them.

The satisfying slap of skin against skin was almost as appealing as the feeling of laying over their plush body. Dabi rubbed his cheek against their back, feeling the plush flesh on his staples. He even let his tongue slowly trace lines over their soft body loving how they shivered from the soft drag of his piercing.

"You can do better than that. Keep going."

"You- you are-!"

"Aww, what's wrong, Doll-face? Too fucked out to say anything? Good. Just keep this nice fat ass in the air for me and I will do the rest."

It was the only kind of affection Dabi could really understand at that point, and so he was going to force it on his dearest regardless of if they liked it or not. Sure, he would cuddle them and bite up their soft body later, but for now he just wanted to fuck them stupid. It was more to keep his own mind quiet than it was to exert control over them, but the control piece did plenty to get Dabi off anyway.

"Beg for me not to cum in you and I might consider pulling out."

"Please- please don't-"

"I said," Dabi hissed, bringing one hand down to leave a stinging print on their plush ass, "beg."

"Please don't cum in me, D-Dabi! Please! I don't want you to- to cum in me, please!"

Dabi grinned in a feral way and made sure to thrust as deeply as he could before letting his cock burst in them, filling up every little part of their body with his white cream. The soft sob from his squishy beloved beneath him only added to the feeling as he tried to squeeze every last bit out into them.

"Oops. Sorry, Doll-face, didn't hear you. Next time you should scream it if you want me to listen to you."

His laugh was sinister and all his dearest could do was let their head hang in shame for allowing this monster to abuse them the way he did. Even if they hated him, he still got what he wanted in the end and he just loved the fear and disdain in their eyes as they looked at him.

It wasn't much, but to Dabi's fucked up mind, it was enough.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere dabi #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #tw non con #tw noncon #tw kidnap mention

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star-spirit-mayhem · 1 year

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Waking up with Dabi in between your legs. Your pajama bottoms long discarded on the bedroom floor and the only thing worth focusing on is a warm pleasure that gently coxes you into consciousness as Dabi slowly tongue fucks your pretty hole. He's watching you closely as your eyes blink open and your hand reaches for his hair, pulling a downright sinful moan outta him.

"Pretty little pet, So eager for me. Just relax and let me take care of you doll, wanna make you fall apart around my mouth before we gotta get up for the day- make sure you're walkin' funny so everyone knows how good I make you feel" he sounds so breathless and needy like he's starving for you as he dives back in-between your legs making you gasp and moan as he starts giving your most sensitive spots all the attention he could muster, determined to have you broken and dumb on his tongue before he let you out of his bed.

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emotionalmessss · 1 year

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Revenge

A/N: first time writing a Dabi x reader one-shot. I just couldn't help myself with this one, lol. No spoilers. Non-canon plot (ish).

Synopsis: after an incident at Endeavour's Agency, you attract the attention of a certain Villain.

Warnings: heavy non-con, humiliation, slight violence, slight blood, forced, angst, dabi is mean, yandere (kinda?), heat play, spit, choking. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 8.1K

You flipped through the pages of your magazine whilst you sat slumped, and cuddled into the couch in your living room apartment. Scanning over the newest headlines and styles of hero costumes while your mind floated, absentmindedly gazing off out the windows every now and then. Fuck, they really publish just about anything, don’t they? You pondered, flipping over to the next page.

‘Mt Lady Takes Down Villain! Hottest and Best Angles!’

You huffed, slamming the magazine back down onto the coffee table. The people who wrote these articles were seriously fried in the head. Despite all of the good that Heroes did, there was always someone in the background; waiting patiently to exploit and publish the most taboo garbage. Your cheek rested against your palm as you rested against the arm of the couch, thinking back to the incident that led up to your very own interview. It wasn’t unheard of for rookie Heroes to have interviews, but it was a rare occurrence. And you remember it all too well.

You sat, awkwardly perched on the plastic chair as the woman in front of you placed a recorder down, pulled out a pen and notepad, and began hammering you with questions.

“What’s it like working as a Rookie alongside the Number One Hero?”

“Was this the costume you were wearing when the incident occurred?”

“Were you scared?”

“Why are you working with Endeavor when your Quirk has nothing to do with flames?”

All of the questions overwhelmed you, and you thought that you would be prepared since Endeavor briefed you prior to the interview. But as soon as the questions came pouring out of the red lipstick lined lips of the reporter - you froze. You tried to answer all of her questions as honestly as you could, but feared that she would turn and spin them on you. It was a habit of reporters to do so, and you refused to be on the next cover of some sleazy tabloid; ‘(Hero name)! Dirty secrets that saved her from the attack on Endeavor’s Agency!’

The thought made you gag.

It was true, your Quirk had nothing to do with fire or anything of the sort, but Enji Todoroki had been a family friend for years, and you were childhood best friends with his daughter, Fuyumi Todoroki. Your Quirk was basic - Telekinesis. It was handy, and you were getting stronger with it everyday. It was useful in the battlefield, proving to be one of the strongest when you attended UA.

“Did you see Shigaraki?”

“How hot were Dabi’s flames?”

When she asked you about Dabi and Shigaraki, you froze, immediately remembering what the heat of his flames felt like, and the gnawing fear of being turned to dust at any given moment. It was horrible, and you wanted nothing more than to jump off the chair and run out of the room. You knew that would solve nothing and only fidgeted slightly at her question and narrowing eyes.

You were seated at your desk, filing paperwork from a Villian that you had caught a few days prior. Everyone spoke about the joys of being a Hero, but often neglected the tedious amount of paperwork that followed suit. Hours had passed and you were still working silently at your desk space. You hadn’t even taken your lunch break in hopes of finishing the work before Endeavor returned.

Your fingers were starting to sting in exhaustion when you heard the first scream, it was loud and shrill; a woman. Your eyes widened and before you knew it, everyone was standing and running. Flames of blue erupted up the walls as you watched everyone flee from the heat. You pushed yourself up from your desk and flushed, blocking your face with your free hand. Endeavor was sent out on a mission a few hours prior, meaning that he would be gone for the rest of the day. Most of the other sidekicks were with him, and you would’ve gone too if you weren’t stuck with this mountain of paperwork.

You remember seeing your coworkers shove and scatter their way out of the building, rushing around like frightened mice. It was sad, you thought. You wanted to act, to fight, but fear kept you frozen in place as everyone disappeared. The smoke and heat of the room made it barely breathable, but you shielded your eyes from the smoke and covered your mouth with your sleeve.

The panicked footsteps soon dwindled down, everyone already fleeing down the stairs. And there you stood, frozen in place like a rock. Thinking back on it makes you feel completely useless, but fear makes you react in such strange ways.

A large chunk of ceiling fell directly in front of you, your feet launching you out of the way before your brain realized what happened. Dust and smoke filtered into your lungs as you narrowly dodged the debris.

You began to stagger your way towards the exit, until you saw two shadows appear in the doorway. Fuck. They grew closer with each passing moment, and you threw yourself beneath a random desk, curling yourself inwards in attempts to hide yourself. Your breathing was raspy due to all the smoke inhalation, but remained silent as the footsteps echoed.

“That fucker isn’t even here.” You heard a deep rasp, sounding like he was losing his voice. You flinched when you heard the desk creek above you, turning your head slowly to notice that someone was resting against it. Luckily, the cubicle shielded you from their presence, or else you’d be screwed.

“The message will still be received.” You heard a second voice, which sounded much higher pitched than the first. “It’s only a matter of time before the Hero regimen is brought to their knees.” They snickered, high pitched and eerie.

You covered your mouth, squeezing back a cough that rumbled in your chest.

“The sooner the better.” The first voice spoke, which you now recognized as Dabi, the Blue Flame. His boots now eye level with you, with even one small move you would’ve been able to touch him.

His unprovoked murderers made headlines a few weeks earlier, and you remember reading all about them. He burned his victims beyond recognition, turning them into a pile of bones and dust. It made you sick, and you could only keep quiet and remain still. You could only guess that the second voice belonged to Shigaraki, the leader of the League Of Villains. Fuck. You really were going to die here.

“We need to get out of here before more show up.” Dabi said, pushing upright from the desk, his jacket swayed in your view. You figured that the Heroes would be pouring through the door at any second now, but you weren’t counting on it, nor were you eager to jump out from the desk.

Shigaraki mumbled something in return that you didn’t quite catch, and you heard the heavy sounds of their booted feet fade off. You weren’t entirely jumping at the thought of getting caught, so you decided to wait a few moments before regrouping with everyone else.

You let out a shaky breath, removing your hand from your dry lips.

Your eyes opened once again, blinking a few times to remove any dust or smoke stuck in them. But fuck, you really wished you hadn’t. There was a soft sound of crunching gravel that rang out beside you, instantly making your blood run cold. Your eyes darted to follow the sound and as soon as you lifted your gaze from the floor, you noticed a pair of bright blue eyes staring back into your frightened ones. You noticed that he smirked when he noticed your frightened expression, burnt lips carving upwards at your quivering form. Immediately, you let out a cry of surprise and skidded out from underneath the desk.

“Well, well. Hello there, doll.” Dabi watched you from above. At this angle, he towered over you, watching you with gleaming eyes. Even though you were flat on your ass and resting against your palms, he was enormous. “Thought I wouldn’t notice ya’ down there?” He chuckled.

You watched him with studying eyes, noting that he hadn’t made a move to grab or burn you. For some reason you expected to be killed on sight, but Dabi seemed to take interest in you. No . He was more interested in making you feel nervous - powerless even. His eyes running down your slim body, watching in excitement as you squirmed uncomfortably. You weren’t wearing your Hero uniform, which made him wonder why you hadn’t escaped like everyone else.

He laughed to himself. Poor little girl, left to die by the Heroes.

Finally, you broke eye contact from the charred man, trailing your eyes around him in search of an escape route. You didn’t know if he’d get bored soon and decide to light you up, but you certainly didn’t want to make any impulsive moves. It seems like Shigaraki left already, and you were thankful that you only had to deal with one League member.

“Are you mute or somethin’?” His head tilted to the side as he scanned you over, his patchwork face pondering in thought.

Dabi felt bored at your unresponsiveness, his smirk dropping and eyes glazing over. His hands fidgeted inside his pockets, debating on what he was going to do with you. You inched back slightly, noticing the shift in his demeanor.

Your hands raised instinctively to cover your face, expecting to feel the flash of heat and the flesh peel off your bones. But you didn’t, instead feeling a rush of air around you. Out of fear, you must’ve activated your quirk without thinking too much, because Dabi was no longer standing in front of you.

Your ears barely registered the sound of his strangled grunt as he collided with a half burnt desk. Not wasting any time pushing yourself up to your shaky feet, throwing yourself out of the cubicle and towards the exit. You didn’t even bother to look back at the scarred Villain, who was staggering back to his feet, letting out a frustrated growl at your sudden attack. You lunged for the door, throwing yourself out of it and down the flights of stairs.

Dabi coughed as dust particles surrounded him, his breathing deepening with rage as he watched your frightened figure stumble out of the room. Your little surprise move pissed him off - almost as much as the realization he had that you were a Hero.

Your head shook and you brushed off the incident that still lingered in your mind. While you were terrified, you managed to act quickly and get out safely. Endeavor praised you for this, which felt good, but you were just thankful that you didn’t turn into a pile of burnt flesh.

“For fucks sake.” You mumbled as you picked up another magazine, seeing a picture of yourself covered in dust, outfit torn in questionable places, and your hair a mess -on the cover .

‘(Hero Name)! Narrowly Escapes The Blue Flame!’

That wasn’t so bad… Maybe Endeavor threatened the poor woman into being nice. You thought, before your eyes roamed over the smaller print beneath the title.

“Find out how (Hero Name) seduced her way out of death on page six!”

You threw the magazine blindly behind you, letting out a long sigh. You should have known, these tabloids twisted the truth and made Heroes and Sidekicks look terrible. You couldn’t believe that people actually believed this shit. Luckily enough, no one was killed in the incident, but you knew that if the League wanted there to be casualties, there definitely would have been. You only escaped due to your quick thinking and Dabi’s lack of attention, which worked out in your favor.

“Fucking bitch.” You grumbled, letting your head drop onto the armrest.

You were so lost in thought that you barely heard the front door close shut, along with the soft footsteps of someone making their way inside. You didn’t move when you finally clued in, instead you called out blindly, voice muffled by the cushion of the couch.

“Really not in the mood tonight, Fuyumi!” Your voice cracked as you called out towards her, expecting her cheerful response at your dismissive tone, but all you heard was silence. The footsteps stopped, and instead of the soft voice of your best friend, you heard a short chuckle.

“Not enjoying the Hero life, doll?”

Letting out a surprised squeak, you jolted upright at the raspy voice, eyes widening and darting towards the rough sound. To say that it surprised you would be an understatement - it terrified you and made you freeze immediately, similar to how you were at the Agency. It frightened you even more when you watched his lazy eyes trail over your form, which was wearing nothing but a pair of PJ shorts and an ill-fitting tank top.

Almost as if he could sense the urgency that flowed in your veins, telling you to run - he took a step closer to you, studying your reactions. So many questions ran through your brain, how did he get in? Why was he here? But you decided to refrain from hammering questions out, instead shifting your focus to distracting him like you had previously done.

“Why are you here?” You decided this was a decently safe question, turning yourself to fully face the scarred man as your eyes drifted to the front door for a brief moment. It was closed again, and if you were to try and run past him, you’d risk being fried to a crisp. If you were smart about this, then you’d be able to-

“Go ahead and try it.” He interrupted your thoughts, pulling your attention back to his lopsided grin, which looked menacing as it tugged on his staples. “I can promise that ya’ won’t make it very far.” His hand extended, lighting up a small blue flame at the tips of his fingers.

Dabi watched as you looked up at him: your big eyes widened, eyebrows furrowed, and full lips parted open. Fuck. He wanted to pounce on you right then and there, but decided to restrain himself. He needed to take his time with this, since his last interaction with you resulted in him being thrown off guard and flat on his ass. He didn’t even think that you had a Quirk - assuming that you were just some mousy little secretary. Until he was shot back from your cowering form, landing hard on a pile of burnt and broken desks. It surprised him, but it also pissed him off. You lingered in the back of his head for days after, which only pissed him off more. He knew that he could melt the pretty skin right off your bones, but for once, he didn’t want to. He wanted to savor this. He was prepared this time, and he wasn’t going to let you escape from him again. No. Not this time.

The look on Dabi’s face made you squirm, itching to get away from his gaze. He lazily glanced over at his flame before closing his fist. His hand reached down and into the pocket of his oversized coat, searching for something you couldn’t see.

You can sense the threatening turn that this was about to take, and on instinct, you pushed your hands out, trying to activate your Quirk. Anything to get him away from you. But he was quicker and stronger, even without his quirk.

He knew that you were going to try and pull the same stunt, but unlike last time, he was prepared for it. In less than a second, Dabi launched himself forward, catching you off guard with his speed.

“Heh. That’s not going to work this time, doll.” Dabi launched himself forward with a sound that could only be compared to a growl of a hungry animal. He grabbed your wrists with one hand, pinning them against your lap in a matter of seconds, leering over you. His one knee was sandwiched between your thighs, while his foot was still placed on the ground, using it to balance himself over you.

You let out a sharp cry as he pulled out what looked like a syringe from his jacket. Instantly, your eyes widened and you fought in his hold, twisting and squirming. Your lungs fought for air at the sight of the needle, igniting your flight or fight response.

“Don’t fight me. It’s a pain in the ass.” He rasped, seemingly unfazed by your weak attempts to push him off. You were no match for him, but he wanted to scare you a little, so he heated up his palms slightly, warning you to stop.

The heat rushed from your wrists and all the way up to your cheeks, flushing you into stilling.

“What are you doing!” You cried out.

“Can’t have you ruining my plans with that annoying quirk of yours.” He grumbled before plunging the needle into your bicep. The pain was jolting, but the feeling of your quirk leaving your body was much worse. You had grown familiar with the constant sense of your quirk lingering in your veins, and now that it was gone, you were terrified. Was it going to come back?

“I- What!” Your eyes met his, which had deep bag-like scars under them, held in place by makeshift staples. His eyes were bright and blue, but looked as if they never opened quite fully. Scars seemed to liter his entire body, only small portions of his actual skin poked through. He can’t handle his quirk, you thought.

Dabi felt a shiver of pleasure run down his spine when you looked over his patch-work face, knowing immediately that the sight of him made you uncomfortable. He was used to people shriveling up in disgust at his face, it was nothing new. But this was different. He felt a sense of heat rush all over his body at your confused face, instead of the usual annoyance.

“Enjoying the view?” He teased, shattering the silence around you two.

You cringed back in displeasure, the smell of him overwhelming you now. Smoke and burnt flesh singing the hair in your nose.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” You managed to calm your nerves slightly, but not by much. Dabi was still leaning over you, making you curl up against the back of the armrest. You didn’t like being caged in like this, and you most definitely didn’t like how he peered down at you.

“Your cooperation would be nice, but either way, I’m going to enjoy this.” Dabi answered your question without actually giving you a clear response. The sense of danger only amplified when you watched his lips curl upwards in a manic like smile. You were sure that his staples would have popped out if he opened his mouth any more. You could see them visibly strain, struggling to keep the healthy skin connected to the scarred tissue.

“Is this because of what happened at the Agency?” You asked, breathlessly moving your attention from his scars to his eyes again. You didn’t want to piss him off more by staring too long at them. Dabi wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were staring at his scars, but could care less. He was used to people staring at him with disgust, and he grew numb to it.

Dabi let out a scoff. “You’re smarter than you look.”

“Why? I was just-”

Dabi leered closer to you, making you flinch and stop talking. “Just being an annoying brat? Thinking that you’re better than me because you’re a Hero?” He spat the word out like it disgusted him to even think, let alone speak it.

Granted, you knew subconsciously that you were better than a murdering psychopath, but decided it would get you nowhere good if you fought that. You weren’t too keen on the idea of dying prematurely, especially by his flames or whatever else he had in store for you.

“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, brows furrowing in annoyance. “Sit back and take it?” You regretted the words as soon as you said them, watching as Dabi smirked down at you with a borderline lustful gaze. “I didn’t want to die. My body reacted on impulse, that's it.” You quickly corrected yourself.

You thought you could buy yourself some time by asking him questions, maybe even distracting him so that you could escape. You knew he was unhinged and wondered if there was a way to use that to your advantage.

“Why does it matter? You burned down half of the Agency and the League still made the cover of every newspaper in Japan.” You found yourself getting angry at the reminder. “You’re lucky that Endeavor wasn’t there. You would’ve been-” Your voice morphed into a scream as soon as you mentioned the Flame Hero. The sudden searing heat of his hands make your back arch up and into the Villain, chest brushing against his stapled flesh. He was barely using his quirk, but even the small amount made your skin singe.

“You think that flaming pile of shit scares me?” Dabi sneered at you, bringing his face level to yours. You stilled when Dabi pressed himself tighter against you, his nose only inches from your own. You realized that you had either struck a nerve by mentioning Endeavor, or that he just really hated Heroes that much. You had assumed the latter, but could tell there was more to it by his reaction. Dabi’s eyes were filled with rage, but the rage wasn’t all directed at you.

“He’s just another empty Hero that the world praises for nothing. It’s only a matter of time before he’s ripped off that pedestal.” You flinched back at his words, knowing that there was definitely some sort of vendetta between the two flame users.

As scared as you were, you still felt somewhat angered by the Villains words. Endeavor had been nothing but kind to you, seemingly taking you under his wing when you joined his Agency. It was either your pride that made you say the next words, or your own naivety. You didn’t know which one it was.

“Endeavor is twice the man you’ll ever be.”

You watched as Dabi’s turquoise eyes narrowed, meeting them as yours widened at his furious expression. If his flames weren’t hot enough, his stare sure was. Dabi’s eyes were blazing with fury, seemingly darkening from their usual brightness. He watched you carefully, weighing his next options. He realized that you were just as surprised at your words as he was, your eyes widening for a moment before glossing over in attempts to hide it. Cute. He could feel you quivering beneath him, fearing what he would do next.

Despite the swell of pride you felt for a brief moment, you could quickly feel the overwhelming sense of anxiety push forward. Fuck. At this point, you didn’t really care what happened to you. All you wanted was to get away from his terrifying presence.

Dabi let his guard down for a mere second, maybe even less, and you immediately took advantage of it. Your wrists twisted apart and out of Dabi’s grip, freeing you for a moment from his suffocating grip. Your next move was on instinct; you ball up your fist before winding it back and sending it crashing into his nose.

Blood immediately gushed from Dabi’s nose, running down his mismatched lips and down his neck. He staggered backwards from the force of your punch, letting out a guttural growl as he wiped the sticky liquid away.

Again, you wasted no time in throwing yourself over the back of the couch, landing on all fours and scrambling towards the front door. You pumped your shaky legs as fast as they could handle, stumbling as you ran for freedom. You were nearing the kitchen when a blast of sudden heat licked up the back of your thighs, making you shriek in agony and crumple to the hardwood. Your body sprawled out on the cool ground, which was a stark contrast to your clammy and sizzling skin.

You glanced down at your awkwardly bent legs, seeing the skin begin to redden and sizzle. It wasn’t a fatal burn, but it was one you’d surely remember since the blisters would definitely scar. The pain was too much and you squeezed your eyes shut, sobbing as you still tried to drag yourself away.

Dabi followed behind you, taking his time as he watched your pathetic attempts at crawling away. He wanted you to have your little moment of hope, afterall, you were going to wish that you were dead after he was done with you.

He took his time stalking towards you, his rubber soles thudding against the flooring - purposely being slow to hammer more fear into you. He watched your body shake violently from his attack, your face contorting up in anguish as you tried to push yourself up. Dabi could feel himself getting hard as he approached your struggling form. He felt mildly proud, considering you had him in a similar position not too long ago.

Smiling wickedly, he planted his booted foot on your back and shoved you back down to the ground. “You can’t run from me.”

Your chin met the floor with a sickening crack, eliciting another wave of pleasure down Dabi’s spine at your pained groan. Your body wavered as you felt a droplet of something wet and sticky hit your cheek, directly beneath your eyes.

“You broke my fucking nose, doll. You’re lucky to still be breathin’ after that.” Dabi chucked, wiping the remnants of his blood from his nose. He relished in your look of disgust when his blood hit your face, seeing the humiliation build up across your pretty face.

Shakily, you wiped his blood from your face, cringing as he stared back at you. Your teeth gritted together so hard that you thought they’d shatter if any more pressure were applied. Everything was too much; the throbbing in your legs, your quirk being suppressed, Dabi’s taunting gaze, everything. Hatred mixed with hot rage seeped into your blood, making your body vibrate with adrenaline.

“Weak flames compared to Endeavor.” You hissed roughly, large eyes glaring up at him in spite.

Dabi ignored the rage that traveled up his body at your words, knowing that you were doing this just to piss him off. Stupid little Hero. You were powerless, weak, and humiliated, but still fought with a sense of pride. He was going to break down that pride of yours, no matter what. He thought as he bent down, fingers lacing through your tousled hair and jerking your face towards his. If you thought pissing him off was going to save you, you were very wrong. Your words only solidified what he was about to do next.

“Let go of me!” Dabi used your hair as leverage to get you onto your knees, pulling another shocked cry as your hands shot up to your scalp. The stinging of your thighs amplified in this position, and you awkwardly balanced to lessen the pain.

“I think I have a better use for that mouth of yours.” Dabi’s hand jolted you forwards before releasing your scalp. You hadn’t realized how much you were relying on his grip to keep you steady, because your knees suddenly wobbled and you fell face-first into the bulge of his jeans, letting out a strangled moan as you did.

Dabi let out a low groan at the feeling of your face pressing into the tent of his jeans. Your hands pressed into his thighs to push yourself upright as your face scrunched up in disgust at the sudden contact. Dabi shuddered while he watched you try and pull away, only to find yourself pressed into his groin again when his hands pulled you back.

You gasped in shock, not expecting the force of his hand to smush you back into his crotch. The tip of your nose dug into his length, feeling it twitch slightly at the contact. You mewled, senses overwhelmed at the feeling.

There was something about the way your eyes squinted and you recoiled back in disgust that drove him mad. A weak little Hero like you needed to learn your place, and what better way would you learn than at the knees of a Villain like him? He wanted to humiliate you in the worst way possible, just like you did with him.

“Oh come on, doll. Don’t tell me a Hero slut like you never sucked cock before?” He snickered down at you.

You scowled at him in return, peeling yourself away from his crotch to look up at him with reddening cheeks. Try as you might, you couldn’t hide the blush that stung at your pale skin.

“Awe. You’re getting shy on me now, dollface? Where’d that spunk go?” Dabi released your hair, fiddling with his belt before pulling out his cock. It sprung out and nearly smacked you in the cheek, narrowly missing as you turned your head away.

“Get the fuck away from me, patchwork!” You hissed, craning your neck up to look him in the eyes.

Dabi watched you with half-lidded eyes, jutting his hips outwards to smack you in the face with his cock. “I’m gonna make sure to force that attitude out of you.” The tip of his dick pressed against your lips, smearing a trail of salty precum all over.

It was long and thick, bigger than any other you’ve seen. You didn’t want Dabi to think that you were taken back by it, so you kept your face as blank as you could in this position. Your lips pressed tightly in a thin line, refusing entrance.

At your reluctance, Dabi tapped his foot against the ground and tilted your jaw up with a single finger. “Open up or I’ll burn you again.”

You frowned, swallowing hard before parting your lips for him. Dabi’s eyes wandered across your face, noting how good you looked with your beady eyes and mouth wide open for him.

You didn’t have much time to think, because Dabi jerked his hips, his cock grazing against your teeth as he hit the back of your throat.

You gagged instantly, fresh tears pooling at your lash line as you tried to relax your throat.

“Shit.” He rasped, head tilting back at the feeling of your throat constricting around him.

You could feel him twitch against the back of your throat, making you gag once again. The tip of your nose flat against his pubic bone, sucking in as much air as you could handle in this position. Your muffled mewls sent Dabi into a frenzy, who gave you no time to adjust before he started to buck his hips. Your hands flew up to his thighs, grounding yourself as you tried not to throw up.

“Damn. You’re shaking around my cock, you must really be scared, huh?” Dabi rasped above you, his voice dropping a few decibels at the sight of your teary eyes.

You choked in response, trailing your tongue along his length. He didn’t necessarily taste bad, but the lingering sweat and precum tasted salty on your buds. With your mouth stuffed completely, you couldn’t hold back the drool that spilled out and down your chin.

“That’s it. I knew there was something useful for that mouth of yours.” Dabi brushed the hair out of your eyes, side eyeing you as you groaned around him. The vibrations shot up through your throat, sending a wave of pleasure around him.

You quickly tore your gaze away from his, focusing on the scarred skin of his stomach instead. You hated this and you would’ve bit him if you weren’t so frightened of the repercussions that would’ve certainly followed.

Dabi watched you with lazy eyes, peering down at you with a look that could only be compared to a predator stalking its prey. With each thrust of his hips he felt your throat clench around him, wet noises mixing in sync with your terrified sobs. You were a beautiful sight, even with your mascara running down your cheeks and snot coming out of your nose. He hated to admit it, but he had to focus hard on not shooting his load down your tight little throat.

“There’s no need to be shy.” He rasped, breathlessly before pulling himself out with a plop. A thick trail of spit connected your lips and the tip of his cock. You gulped back air and sputtered, furiously wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Dabi smirked as you fell back onto your ass with a hiss. He knew you were probably thinking that he would let you go now, or at least praying for it. Silly girl. He wasn’t nearly finished with you.

He bent down to your level, stuffing himself back into his pants. You were angry and disgusted, the light in your eyes darkening when you met his gaze. The instinct to run was back again, and you were fighting against your natural nervous system's desire to flee.

It was endearing Dabi thought, but futile. Your eyes darting to the door for a moment gave your intentions away. He made quick work to grab you before you could even blink, letting out a deep chuckle at your surprised reaction.

His hands wrapped around your hips and hoisted you over his shoulder. You gasped at the sudden movement, laying uncomfortably across his shoulder as he moved towards what you would guess was your bedroom.

“You got what you wanted! Leave now!” Your naivety was cute, almost entertaining in a sick sense. You knew deep down that he hadn’t gotten his fill. Villains were greedy after all and he wanted everything you had to offer.

You bucked against him, only earning a quick slap of your thighs in response. Dabi stalked into your bedroom, opening the door and throwing you down onto the mattress. You bounced slightly and curled up into the headboard, while he peeled back his jacket and shirt at the edge of your bed. You could barely see him in the darkness, his face staples barely reflecting the moonlight that peaked through the curtains.

“Please. Please don’t do this. I- I don’t want this.” Your lower lip quivered and you felt embarrassed to be begging him. You were supposed to be a Hero; brave and strong until the very end. But watching Dabi strip in front of you made your bravery shrivel up and shred into a million pieces.

“That’s too bad, doll. I want this, so I’m going to take this.” Dabi grabbed ahold of your ankle, tearing you away from the headboard and flat onto your back. You kicked your other leg, trying to hit the side of his head with your heel. Dabi expected this, catching your other ankle and pinning it down. Your legs were spread open, leaving room for him to rest between.

He crawled up to your level, watching carefully as you turned your head to the side to avoid looking at his hideous face. “You’re not going anywhere this time.” He hummed, breathing into your neck as you tried to buck him off.

His lips were rough against the soft skin of your neck, working down to nip where your neck met your shoulders. You tried to distance yourself from the moisture of his mouth, but his body kept you trapped. You bit on your lip at the feeling, which sent tingles all the way to your toes.

“Stop. Get off!”

Dabi’s hand traveled down to the hem of your shorts, toying with the thin material before ripping them off in a shift motion. Your panties followed suit, exposing your core to the cool air. Instead of throwing your panties on the ground with your pants, he brought the material up to his nose before sniffing. His eyes closed and he let out a deep sigh at your scent, like it was the best thing he had ever smelt. Your jaw dropped in a mix of shock and pure repulsion. You kicked and slammed your fists against his chest, but your efforts were fruitless.

“You can fight me all you want, but I’m the only one with the real power here.” He pulled away from your neck to look into your tearful eyes, lowering himself slowly between your legs again. “Remember that the next time you parade yourself around the press.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, draping one up and over his shoulder. The cool metal of his staples skimmed across your flesh, his hands keeping you planted in place.

“What are - no!” Your mind raced as you tried to scoot back from his head, which rested between your legs.

Your breathing stunted as you shook your head adamantly, your palms pressed flat at your sides as you tried to resist. His hands stopped you before you got anywhere, keeping you pinned to the mattress while he dropped his head lower, watching you with slitted eyes.

“It’s only fair that I return the favor, doll.” You were about to cry out, but quickly clamped your mouth shut when you felt his breath against your weeping cunt. The thought of accidentally moaning or gasping at his head buried against you was enough to scare you into biting your tongue.

Dabi’s bright eyes shifted from your chest, which rose and fell quickly, and down to your cunt. His fingers dipped down to spread you further apart, blowing softly on the glistening skin. He could feel his erection press tightly against his pants, but knew that he needed to take his time. You were going to regret ever standing up from that desk at the Agency. He was going to make sure of it.

He licked his lips, giving you no time to protest as he rubbed his nose from your little hole to your clit. Your thighs tensed around his shoulder, digging your heel into his back. He grinned, watching as your hands tangled into the sheets. Sensitive. He barely even started.

You suddenly felt his tongue, which was unnaturally hot just like the rest of him. He lapped at your hole, gathering the slick that quickly bloomed and dragging it up and towards your clit. The wet muscle circled around a few times, hitting every sensitive spot he could find. Your hands gripped the sheets in attempts of grounding yourself, but it did little in blocking out the wet sounds that reached your ears.

There was nothing you could do to stop him when his finger slid into you, meeting little resistance at your sopping hole. Your back arched, the sound of his tongue licking and sucking at your clit sending your brain into a frenzy. The noises were lewd and exaggerated, giving you no mind to picture yourself elsewhere. Anywhere but here. You thought.

“Nuh!” Your hand slapped over your mouth when the moan slipped out, realizing the mistake you made immediately.

Dabi paused to glance up at you, watching you with a crooked gaze. Your terrified pupils were blown wide, lips curling back in disgust. He continued to watch you when he curled his finger, pressing directly into that spongy spot of your walls. Another mewl rumbled in your throat and you tossed your head into the sheets.

“Not so tough now, eh? And here I thought you’d have a little more fight in ya’, but you’re too busy soaking my face.” He cooed, which only made his voice sound even more raspy.

He pulled his finger out slowly, savoring in the way you gushed and clamped down on it, almost like your cunt knew that it needed to be filled. He pushed it back in, curling upwards before repeating the same motions. Over and over, he twisted and pulled his fingers, pumping them in and out.

You moaned louder this time, clenching your thighs around his head and arching your chest. The back of your mind screamed in protest, begging for the assault to stop. Your limbs felt like mush, unable to do much except squirm.

“Right there? Is that it?”

He repeated the movement a few more times as his mouth latched back onto your throbbing clit. Dabi could feel your resolve dwindle away with each passing stroke of his tongue, seeing your fists loosen and lips part open in pleasure. Your reactions spurred him on, knowing that you were close to cumming.

His cock strained behind the confinements of his jeans, still rock hard from earlier. It was pure anguish, but he knew what needed to be done. He would only have to wait a little longer… Just a little.

“Oh my.” You whimpered.

Dabi’s tongue swirled as his finger pumped in and out of you, sending you over the edge with a final cry. Your cunt gushed over his face, taking both you and him by surprise when the clear liquid squirted out suddenly. You could feel yourself clenching down on his finger, squeezing the appendage tightly as you squealed.

Dabi licked up everything he could, giving your clit one last flick as he lifted himself from your dripping heat. “Fuck doll, I didn’t think you’d take that so literal.” He wiped his face with his hands, smiling down at you.

You blushed furiously as your slick ran down his cheeks and jaw. You didn’t know which was worse, the fact that you had squirted all over him or that you had never done that before. You felt rage that he forced you to orgasm, let alone from his disgusting mouth .

Your body relented, heavy breaths leaving your cracked lips. You had been so lost in your head that you never realized Dabi lining his cock up with your hole. “No! Get off of me!” Your hands slammed into his chest, pushing against his scars.

“Relax, waterworks.” He taunted, shooting you a singular glare before pinning your wrists above your head.

Despite the slick that stuck against your thighs and ass, you knew that his cock was going to stretch you to the max. Your eyebrows shooting up when you felt him run it along your folds, gathering your arousal before prodding at your hole.

“Dabi! Just give me a sec-” Your breathing hitched when he slammed into you, eyes wide and unseeing as your head flew back into the bed. Your throat let out another piercing shriek at the sudden intrusion. The sheer size of him made your insides burn up, sending a painful twist inside your gut.

“Fuck.” He grunted. “Should’ve bent you over the desk when I first saw ya’, didn’t realize you’d be this tight.” Dabi’s eyes rolled back as he closed them, savoring the feeling of your tight, wet heat that clamped on him like a vice.

You cringed back, shutting your eyes and grinding your teeth.

Dabi rolled his hips, focusing on stuffing you full. You hissed, feeling his cock brush against your cervix. Despite the searing pain, your body was growing accustomed to his size. You could hear the faintest sound of your slick pussy squishing around him.

“Oh fuck. You’re suffocating.” Dabi bent down towards you, focusing his attack on your lips. You realized this and at the last second, turned your head away. He didn’t mind, instead focusing on peppering kisses and licks on your cheek and neck.

Tears welled up in your eyes when you felt his tongue lick at your cheek. You twisted your body, trashing in his hold in attempts to throw him off. This barely fazed him, only making him heat up his palms to get you to still.

“What would your Hero friends say if they saw you now, doll? Pinned under a Villain; squirming and cumming all over me?” Dabi teased, dropping his pelvis onto yours to hit deeper.

Your jaw slacked open at the new angle. A sudden burst of pleasure traveling up your cunt and to your head. In response, your jaw dropped to let out a low-whiny moan. You wanted to scream at him, but couldn’t find the courage to speak. You felt powerless in the situation, hiccuping and moaning as he drilled into you.

“There it is. Feels good doesn’t it?”

“Fuck. Dabi- ” He shuddered when you moaned his name, feeling his core tighten at the soft whimpering of your voice. Your brows furrowed, desperately trying to fight the feelings that he was delivering with each stroke of his cock.

“Shit. Look at you, doll. Such a pretty sight.” Dabi felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders when his cock bottomed out inside you. Your tight gummy walls were sucking him in, squeezing him to a point that was almost painful. He never realized that you’d be this much of a slut; so easy and wet, begging to be taken.

Your eyes rolled back. You were so close, and you knew that you weren’t going to last much longer. You just wanted to focus on the pleasure, not the person that was delivering it to you. He knew instantly what you were trying to do; dropping your wrists and grabbing ahold on your peaked nipple. He gave it a sharp twist, drawing out a sharp cry as he tugged on the hardened bud.

“Stay with me.” Your hands flew to his shoulders, steadying yourself with his forceful pace. The pads of your fingers traced along his staples before quickly retreating.

Dabi chuckled, “You can touch them, they don’t hurt.” He moved your arms back over his shoulders, planting them against the textured skin. You whined and shuddered at the feeling of his skin. Every one of your senses were at their max, so sensitive and alert.

“D-dabi!” You mewled like a kitten, dragging your nails down his back when his fingers began to assault your clit again.

“Ah- would you look at that?” Dabi hovered his hand in front of your face, scissoring his index and middle finger to show you the slick that connected the two digits.

If you weren’t so wound up in the sensation of his cock dragging up and down your walls you would’ve hit him. You only squinted at him, earning a dark chuckle that reverberated against your chest.

The familiarity of tightness coiled back in your gut, snapping immediately when you saw him lick his fingers clean. The crudeness of his action sent your body over the edge and made you scream out. Your walls fluttered, causing him to drop his hand next to your head for support as his body twitched.

“There you go.” He hissed.

You were glad that your orgasm made your eyes roll back, because the look on Dabi’s face would have humiliated you more. He grinned manically, his smile stretching wide enough for him to feel his staples strain to hold the skin together. Your tongue lolling out and drool dribbling down the sides of your jaw was enough to make him peak.

Your body continued to convulse as he painted your walls white, his cum burning your insides as he filled you.

“Oh god.” You wanted to protest, but couldn’t.

“Fuck!” He moaned loud, slowing his pace before pulling out.

You twitched at the loss of contact, head tilting to rest on the bed as your arms fell from his shoulders. The feeling of his cum slipping out of your abused hole made you tingle, bringing your knees up to curl into a ball.

“You got what you wanted, now leave.” You managed to whisper, not looking in his direction as he wiped his dick on the sheets of your bed before tucking himself back into his pants.

His belt clicked as he tightened it back up. “What I wanted eh? Weren’t you the one who came twice? I don’t think we're even just yet, doll.” Dabi closed in on you, dropping beside you and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull your back against his chest.

You let him guide your exhausted body into his heated one, realizing that there was no point in fighting in your current condition. “We’re just getting started.” He cooed into your ear, nose burying into your matted locks.

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ᰔ pairings: dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader ᰔ content/tags: mha spoilers, childhood pov, abusive childhoods, childhood crush, blood, allusions to self harm/suicide, explicit language, smut, kinda not really, its smutty talk, angst, allusions to s/a, power dynamics, time jump to when touya is like 26, creative liberties have been taken with the original story, set in the century 2400 ᰔ wc: 10.5k ᰔ a/n: so there is a bit of a weird timeline with this one. instead of touya dying at 13, I've made it he dies at 16 and the subsequent events are a lil delayed, in the manga he is 24 atm but here i have him as 26, please suspend your disbelief for a sec cause the amount of work ive put into this so it makes sense, i almost went crazy

March 10th 2460 Touya: aged nine You: aged eight (and three-quarters)

Breakfast is at five, lunch at twelve, and dinner at seven.

The clock hands tick over the first five graduations and onto the sixth, meaning it is six minutes past seven and dinner is late.

Lateness is not tolerated by the Todoroki clan.

No reason, whether it be big or small, would be accepted nor understood by the head of the family, and punishment for being tardy ranged from groundings to lectures and in the most severe cases, a beating. However, those parameters do not extend to said head, who you think to be more akin to that of a prison warden than a father.

You watch the housekeeper slide the last of the food onto the table and take another look at the clock.

7:08.

The table had been set, food diligently prepared and presented, plates piled high with greens and dripping meat, three different kinds of fish, an array of soups, and other liquid foods. Mrs Todoroki often had trouble eating, so instead opted for warm broths and hot teas, and they were all going cold while you waited for Mr Todoroki to come in from Touya’s nightly training. Saliva coats your tongue as you breathe in the heavenly scents wafting from the mountains of food, your stomach growling in protest at not being filled with the delicious smells.

Ten minutes pass and just before the eleventh has a chance to be observed, the sliding doors to the dining room whoosh open. With the ease and casualness of someone who is above the law of the household, Enji Todoroki strolls in followed closely behind by the eldest sibling.

Touya trails behind his father, movements sluggish and slow, his frail body slumped in exhaustion and what you would only later realise as terror. You can almost see the muck that weighs on his body, dripping off sharp bones in big flat globs of swamp green mud, seeping into the reeds of the tatami mats below. Fresh wounds litter his arms, blooms of dark red blood pock the sterile bandages that were hastily wrapped around his limbs. The stark white began at his wrists and climbed up and up his arms until they disappeared beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. You follow Touya, eyes lingering on his wounds as he sits down opposite you.

“Fuyumi. Is he-“ Your question is hushed, spoken from the corner of your mouth to avoid raising suspicion of the subject.

“He’s okay, we don’t talk about it.” Her answer comes in a rush, eyes darting towards her father like a prey animal watching their stalker. “Just eat.”

Fuyumi’s mouth pulls into a frown for a quick second before her attention moves to the food before her.

You nod, attention shifting from the boy across the table to the plate that had been prepared just for you. A small helping of meat and fish paired with a big serving of rice and vegetables, the nanny even going as far as to put it into a divider plate as though you were a toddler, but you thanked her regardless, smiling up at the haggard-looking woman as she nodded politely and moved onto tending to baby Shouto. The food only holds your attention for so long before you glance back up at Touya, watching as he cuts into his steak with the precision of a man far beyond his years. Each move slow and calculated; every shift of his arms or turn of his head deliberate and purposeful, small actions to avoid raising awareness of his person. Come to think of it, all the children, save for Shouto, moved like that. As if they were in constant apologetic states just for breathing, existing, and with their father you understand why, but it doesn’t stop you from staring at the boy before you.

"Stop looking. He doesn't like it when you stare." Fuyumi whispers, smacking her knee against yours.

"But it looks like it hurts." You whisper back, unable to look away from the red splotches on the white bandages.

You want to ask if he is okay. If he needs a doctor and who did that to him? Was it a bully at school? How was the school not getting involved if he was being bullied this bad?

"Fuyumi," Touya sneers from across the table. "Tell your friend to stop staring at me."

Unabashed hatred simmers in his blue eyes as his glare falls on you. Heat rises to your cheeks, stumbling out an apology, and vowing to never look at him again.

No one had ever looked at you like that. With such hatred and malice, you didn’t even know existed.

"He plays rough, always falling over at school," Mr. Todoroki’s voice booms throughout the room, so loud and sudden it is like a thunderclap on a clear day. "You've got to be more careful, Touya. What would people think if they saw you like this!"

The lack of care for his son’s well-being gives you pause mid-bite. The vegetables fall from your fork as goosebumps skitter along your skin.

What would people think if they saw you like this?

What would they think other than he had been in an accident? Is Touya’s broken body a regular occurrence that people would be so used to seeing that it would start to raise suspicion? Had he been hurt on purpose? Why would Mr. Todoroki say that? Did Mr. Todoroki do that to Touya?

Your attention is pulled outwardly as Natsuo starts to talk about his day, telling his mom and the housekeepers all about the latest games and toys at school, the newest edition of a card game you like captivates you and your thoughts are swept away from the strange boy across from you.

Dinner ended as it always did.

Mr. Todoroki called the housekeeper over to deal with the mess and children as he retired to his office and Mrs Todoroki took her evening walk around the grounds of the estate. You can’t stay the night despite it being a Friday, you’re never allowed to stay the night. Fuyumi had stayed at yours plenty of times, your parents never saying no to another friend but never you at hers. You thanked both her parents and waved bye to her brother before the youngest housekeeper walked you home. That’s how every Friday night ended.

That routine had become a staple in your life, going on two years, before there was a change to the way of things.

------

July 1st 2362 Touya: aged eleven You: aged ten

The shift was subtle and gradual, like the way a house is warmed by a fire on a winter’s eve. Slow and steady, seeping into all corners of the once-frozen house until all you know is warmth and you can’t remember how the cold felt. That’s how you would describe Touya’s presence in your life. From the arctic interactions each Friday night at the dinner table to someone you would call a friend.

The first thaw of the ice wall that had formed around your friend’s brother, was an accident.

Knee deep in the heat of summer, you had rushed over after summer school, swimmers in your backpack and a dream of jumping into the fresh cold heaven that was the local pool. You had come looking for Fuyumi, hell-bent on getting your poor friend out of the stuffy old house and somewhere she could have fun without the risk of her dad making her or her siblings cry.

You had come to hate Mr Todoroki.

He hadn’t done anything to you personally to deserve the contempt you held towards your friend's dad but you had heard enough from Fuyumi. She had told you all the times he made her mom cry. How there would be arguing and then the sounds of breaking plates followed by her mom’s cries. Mrs. Todoroki never said anything was wrong, never alluded to anything other than a mild argument but there had to be something more, right? Adults didn’t cry over nothing!

“ ‘Yumi, let's go to the pool!” you call down the hall. “I’ll buy ice cream this time.”

The housekeeper had let you in, instructing that your friend was in her room finishing up some school work but after you checked her room and found no sign of her, you went looking.

That is how you found Touya.

Walking into the bathroom under the assumption you would find Feyumi, you are greeted with a situation you are not old enough to understand the severity of.

Touya slouched on the bathroom floor, surrounded by bloodied towels, unspooled bandages, and uncapped ointment tubes. A piece of gauze caught between his teeth as he attempts to bandage his bleeding hand.

He shouts at you to leave, his command broken as he hiccups around the sobs falling from him. Scorched skin covering the majority of his arms, fingers red and blistering as they shake.

That image sears into your brain. Imprinting itself onto your eyelids so that each time you fall asleep, you see Touya; broken and bloody.

There isn’t much you remember from that afternoon, only flashes and stills that live in the recesses of your mind.

The feel of the cold tiles on your exposed legs as you knelt before the once terrifying older boy who had never had a single nice thing to say to you.

The smell of salt and metal of his fresh blood.

The sound of Touya’s cries as you peeled incorrectly placed bandages off raw and exposed skin.

The acidic taste of bile in the back of your throat upon first laying eyes on the scene before you.

It had been too much for little you to comprehend so you just forgot most of it. Thrown it into a locked drawer in your mind and lost the key.

That was the beginning of the thaw, a gruesome and bloody beginning to a friendship that spanned years and ended just as horribly.

------

September 23rd 2463 Touya: aged twelve You: aged eleven

“So it's this really old movie that my mum used to watch” you explain as you click on the familiar title screen. “It’s about a girl who gets transported to this weird world and she has to solve some weird riddle to get out.”

Touya looks at you like you had grown a second head but accepts your weird movie recommendation. You sit down next to him, popcorn bucket jiggling as the couch sinks under your frame.

The beginning animation of Spirited Away starts and the familiar tune wraps around you like a warm hug. This was the movie you liked to watch whenever you felt sad, and you noticed Touya was a little sadder than normal these days so you offered to have a movie night. His siblings had all said yes but upon discovering that the movie was one from decades ago, backed out. So with just the two of you left, you sit in silence and watch as the beautiful world comes to life.

It’s a nice moment between the two of you, sharing something so personal with someone you would have never considered a friend and here the two of you were, watching a movie. Like friends!

“I’m gonna call you Chihiro cause all she does is cry and that’s all you do too,” Touya announces as the credits begin to roll.

“I do not!” you retort, slapping his arm lightly. “I cry a normal amount for a girl my age!”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Chihiro.”

------

February 14th 2464 Touya: aged thirteen You: aged twelve

Spring is only a month away yet it feels as if it were the middle of December.

The cold of winter had sunk its claws deep into the city and it seemed as if it did not have plans to let go of it anytime soon. Everyone in Tokyo bundled up against the frost that coated the wind but it wasn’t the cold that had your hands trembling as you gripped a single rose.

It was Valentine's Day and you were about to ask Touya to be yours.

The nerves that had built in your stomach had taken over your extremities. It was as if your entire body was a live wire that every so often touched an exposed pipe and jolted.

In the two years since the bathroom incident, you had grown closer to the oldest Todoroki, sparking a friendship that consisted of more than smiles and shy hellos across the dinner table. Phone calls and text messages were the daily, walking to school and home together was the new norm, all things that one would consider friendly but there was a part within your heart that was growing to like Touya a little more than a friend. You knew it was a crush, you weren’t a little kid anymore, but you also knew that he was unattainable for many reasons. One was that he was a sibling of a close friend and the other being that he was not someone who thought about life that way. There was no room for crushes in Touya’s world. There was only hero work. How to become a hero and then how to become the number one hero.

You had heard this speech a million times. His plans to surpass his father in the rank of heroes and become the ultimate symbol of peace. Heroes had no time for girlfriends, only villains.

But you had no plans of becoming a hero so there was no real reason you shouldn’t try, right? Your mom had bought you the flower this morning, picking up on the crush that you had developed on your friend and very excitedly pushed you to give Touya a gift.

“What do I do with this?” Touya asks, confused as he takes the flower from your hands.

You had stopped halfway through the walk home and turned to your friend, eyes wide with fear, and shoved the bloom into his hands. Originally the plan was to hand it to him as you said goodbye for the afternoon but you were swiftly running out of ways to regulate your breathing to counteract the anxiety wreaking havoc in your stomach.

“It's for you” you answer, eyes trained on your shoes.

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you asking me to be your valentine?” There is a pause. “Do you like me?”

Yes.

“No!” you lie, shouting the word even though you didn’t mean to. “I felt bad that you hadn’t gotten anything, so I got you something and there you go, it doesn’t mean I like you.”

You hear footsteps, watching Touya’s shoes move closer to yours. “Just admit, you like me.” He teases.

“I do not!” balling your fists, you stomp your foot. “I already told you why I got them now shut up before I take them back!”

Another pause.

“Thank you,” Touya says gently. “Even if it's just cause you felt bad for me”

Spring had come early for Touya Todoroki.

------

June 28th 2466 Touya: aged fifteen You: aged fourteen

Romance had blossomed between the two of you, then wilted, then blossomed again, then wilted again.

Teenage hormones had been unleashing havoc on your friendship for the past year. One day you were fine and the next, barely speaking but it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“You two just need some time apart and then you can talk about it, you guys will sort it out.” Your mother had cooed, stroking your hair back as you cried one afternoon after you and Touya had had a ruthless argument.

The topic of fighting was always the same. His insane need to overtake his father and prove him wrong. The need within him had turned insatiable. Morphing from a dream that would one day be achieved with dedication and hard work into something that was turning your best friend into a ravenous beast.

“You’re not listening to me. I need you to listen to me.” Touya shouts as you walk home together.

“I am. You’re just not making sense.” You roll your eyes at your friend, turning your attention away from the raving lunatic walking beside you.

“Why would your dad have it out for you? He’s your dad?”

Touya huffs and stops, hand wrapping around your wrist to pull you back.

“My dad isn’t like your dad. He doesn’t love me or any of us. He just wants us to be better than All Might.” His words are slow as if explaining something to a toddler. “He knows that I am more powerful than him and now he’s scared that I might beat him so he wants me to stop training.”

You groan out his name, annoyed at the constant conversation topic. “Your dad wants you to stop training because you keep hurting yourself. He has told you that a million times, he’s just trying to keep you safe.”

“If he wanted to keep me safe, he wouldn’t have let me train like this. This isn’t about me being safe, this is about me outranking my dad.”

“Touya-“

He continues his tirade. “Enji has realised that I am better than him and Shoto but he doesn’t want his loser son who can only use fire to become the number one hero. I don’t know why you’re on his side. Why can’t you be on my side for once?”

“I am on your side!” you shout, yanking your arm away from his grasp. “I’m always on your side, why do you always make it seem like everyone is against you!”

Touya’s mouth snaps shut at your sudden outburst.

“I can’t keep having this argument with you. I feel like you don’t even want to be my friend so you come up with this stupid stuff to push me away and if you want that, fine. Just tell me so I don’t have to listen to you anymore.” You huff and turn around, starting on your way home without your friend.

You don’t hear his footsteps follow you.

His apology comes in a text later that night.

I'm sorry, Chihiro. Can we still be friends?

------

October 19th 2466 Touya: aged fifteen You: aged fourteen “Can you promise me something?” Touya’s words become mist in the mid-autumn night.

“Depends.”

You turn to face your friend, feeling the dew-soaked grass squish beneath your shoulders. Hidden behind the garden wall, lost within the shrubbery the two of you hid from the housekeepers who had been tasked with wrangling the children in for dinner. Touya had run first, taking off down the hall the second he heard the call of his name and you followed, unaware as to what you were running from but you followed him everywhere so why wouldn’t you now?

“Please don’t forget me.”

“Forget you?” your brows crinkle in confusion. “Why would I forget you? Are you going somewhere?”

Touya is still on his back, attention rapt on the stars twinkling above him.

“Just when we get older and go to different schools and things change, you know.” He sighs. “Just don’t forget me.”

You sit up, concern overtaking your confusion. Why was he talking about this stuff now? Your friend turns to look at you, mouth pulled down in a frown as tears line his cerulean eyes.

“I won't.” You shake your head, scooting closer across the grass and grab his cold hand, interlocking your fingers together, you squeeze and swear an oath. “I promise, I won’t ever forget you.”

November 24th 2367

Touya: aged sixteen

You: aged fifteen

Nights come quicker in winter.

Which means less time spent with Touya.

But at least there is a little extra time when he walks you home on an evening.

It is a little awkward. Walking so close together but not actually touching aside from the occasional brush of fingers that sent your heart into a sprint. There is something unspoken between the two of you, something that teeters on the edge of romance but not something that you are both ready to dive into. It’s not like you are kids anymore, if you are going to date, it will be different than if you just liked each other. You will have to act like a girlfriend and not his friend and you didn’t know how to be a girlfriend. Was it any different than how you acted now? Plus, kissing and hand-holding. God, you want to kiss him.

You both stop at the gate of your house. The lights in the living room are on which means your parents are up waiting for you.

Touya drops your backpack at your feet.

There is a beat of stillness between the two of you, the tension rising with every second. You had not spoken a single word to each other the entire walk home and you don’t think you will even say goodbye. Touya offers you a tight smile and steps back, confirming your suspicions of a silent goodbye.

"Hey, I need to tell you something." You blurt out the words, not wanting him to leave just yet.

"Yeah?"

"I…umm," you stammer, slipping your hands into your jacket pockets. "I know it's your birthday in a few weeks, so I wanted to know what you want as a present."

"That's a question, Chihiro” Touya's mouth lifts at the corners. “You said you needed to tell me something."

“I got mixed up." You amend.

"You sure? There isn't anything you need to tell me?" Touya pushes, taking a step to close the gap.

"I'm sure. I just got confused" You nod, affirming your choice of words. “What do you want as a gift?”

"Hmm,” He pauses and takes a few more steps closer, lips pursed as if deep in thought. “Well, I want some of those cookies your mom makes."

Touya stops a few feet from you, close enough for a hug but not close enough that it was weird.

You laugh. "Really? That's it? You don't want a proper present?"

He nods. "Wrap it up, and it'll be a proper present.”

“Okay, cookies it is” You mirror his nod and smile. Your palms start to sweat, cheeks and ears begin to burn as you look up at your best friend.

“Any more questions?”

You shake your head. “Nope, that’s all.”

“Okay, well I’m gonna go 'cause I should have been home ten minutes ago but you are such a slow walker” he teases, bouncing up on his toes.

“I-Um,” you stutter, unable to come up with a snappy comeback due to his proximity. “Go home before you get into trouble.”

“I’m gonna.”

He makes no move to go.

Silence fills the gap.

“Ahh, well I’m going to go since-“

You’re interrupted by a soft kiss against your cheek.

You still, unable to move at the realisation that Touya had just kissed you.

“Okay, I’m going.” He announces and takes a step back. “I’ll see you on Monday?”

You nod, raising a hand in goodbye as he starts back down the street.

“I hope you like me too, 'cause that kiss made me late and my dad’s gonna kill me!” he shouts back, already halfway down the street.

“I do…like you…back” you shout awkwardly, feeling every inch of blood your body had flood into your cheeks. “Good luck. Hope your dad doesn't kill you!”

------

November 30th 2467 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged fifteen

You speak at Touya’s funeral.

The third speaker of the ceremony, having been urged on by Fuyumi and Natsuo despite your protests, and the one to close off the day before his ashes were taken home. You tried not to cry, bottom lip wobbling all day and you would have made it had you not been shoved on stage, microphone held to your face as you unfolded the crumpled sheet you had stuffed into the pocket of your coat.

The rest of the day was a blur as was the week, then the month and only after six full months of grieving daily, crying god only knows how much, did you finally start to see the light at the top of the hole you had buried yourself in but unlike the times you and Touya would play together, his warm hand wasn’t there to help you back up.

------

January 4th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five

You think about Touya Todoroki often.

How your best friend had been killed in some freak accident. How despite his father rushing into the flames to save his son, had come out unscathed yet all that was found was Touya’s jaw bone. It didn’t make sense and you had driven yourself crazy with theories surrounding his death. It was an accident, they had all said. Even if it was an accident, Enji Todoroki was not innocent.

You think about the kind of man Touya could have been if he had lived, what kind of hero he would have become. How he would save the day then turn and smile at his adoring fans, blue eyes blazing bright with pride. You often think about his eyes, remembering how they softened whenever he would smile at you, brighten as you offered half of whatever snack bar you had that day. You think about him enough that you think you’re going crazy when you look up into the eyes of a stranger and see Touya staring back at you.

"Touya?" you whisper as you stare at the strange man.

You had walked headfirst into their chest while crossing the dark street, ducking under awnings to avoid the winter rain. Hoping to cut ten minutes from your usual walk home, desperate to beat your roommate home and into the warm embrace of your apartment’s limited hot water, you took the risk of walking down the alley; what you weren’t hoping for was to bump into your best friend’s dead brother. There was no way it was him, maybe he was a distant Todoroki. Enji did seem like the type to spread it around so maybe a few illegitimate children were running around with the eyes of Endeavour.

His hand reaches out to grab your arm, nails digging into your exposed flesh. You want to wince, to cringe away from him but something within you is telling you to hold your ground. The stranger pulls you closer, all false bravado leaving you as you realise what’s about to happen. Your body tenses, hands uselessly curling into fists at your side.

"Who the fuck are you?" a harsh whisper cuts through the quiet patter of rain.

The hand your arm tightens when you take too long to respond.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Your answer whooshes from you, all air leaving your body in a single sentence.

The stranger ducks his head to get closer to yours and you turn your face away, afraid to look into the face of the man who had the eyes of a long-lost love. This had to be some sort of joke, right? You were not about to be assaulted by a guy who had Touya’s eyes, there was no way the universe was that cruel.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to I’m sorry, please.” Hot tears roll over your cheeks, your bottom lip quivering as you fight the frown wanting to form. You were not above begging despite knowing it wouldn’t do any good, if there was some way to get out of this situation alive and unscathed, you were going to try it.

“Hey,” the stranger calls to you, shaking you gently. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Great, he’s playing mind games now. You’ve seen enough true crime to know that there are no good people left in the world, especially the ones who lurk in alleyways.

A cold hand reaches out and grips your chin, lifting your face to his. The gesture is intimate, gentle and familiar.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean anything by it. I'm sorry, I-“You’re sobbing now.

“Look at me” he interrupts, fingers tightening on your cheeks.

He repeats his order when your gaze doesn’t move.

You sniffle, blink back tears that refuse to stop coming, and focus your attention on the man before you.

“I’m not going to hurt you so stop crying,” his voice is soft.

The hand that was on your arm now cups your cheek, thumb brushing away the tears that coat your cheeks. His skin is rough and warm, but there is a bite of something cold on his palm. He holds you with such tenderness you feel a tug at your heart not for any feelings towards the stranger but because you had never been held like this before. That a complete stranger who was probably a crazy psycho villain was holding you with the care you hold a baby animal with.

“I need you to stop crying and answer me, can you do that?” he asks, nodding as his thumb continues to brush over your cheek.

You nod, taking in a shaky breath.

“Good girl.” Heat floods your cheeks. “Now, why is a pretty girl like you walking alone at night?” he asks softly.

You blink up at him, surprised at the switch in demeanour.

“I just finished work and this is shortcut.” you don’t have time to come up with an elaborate lie. “I’m really sorry about the whole name thing, you just look like a friend who died and I thought that maybe he wasn’t actually- I’m sorry” You feel the tears welling up again.

“Well, he’s not me.” He sighs, removing his hands from your face. You kind of miss the warmth they had. “I’m sorry you lost someone, but I don’t think accusing strangers of being dead people is a good idea.”

You nod wordlessly, too stunned at his shift in tone to formulate a response. The man reaches up for the hood of your raincoat, pulling it over your head tight to shield you from the rain.

“I need one more thing from you okay?” he asks, ducking his head to look into your eyes. “You gonna listen to me again?”

“Okay.” Your voice shakes.

“Don’t mention that name to anyone else, alright?”

He waits for your nod and then releases your hood. “You’re such a good listener” The fact he is praising you has your heart spinning. Wasn’t he ready to attack you a few minutes ago?

“Now go home” he nods his head to the exit of the alleyway. You follow his nod and look back at the light-filled street. “And don’t walk down backstreets anymore, you could get hurt.”

By the time you turn back to face him, he is already halfway down the alleyway arms raised in a farewell. You watch as he turns the corner and only when he is gone do you let yourself breathe. ------

March 6th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five

"Let it go, dude," Natsuo sighs for the umpteenth time as he packs his books away. "You're lucky you didn't get hurt. He could have been a complete psycho."

Your friend is right and has been every other time you have brought up the strange man from the alley and you can tell by the way he shoves the textbooks into his backpack that his patience is running thin. Over the years, you had grown closer to Natsuo, looking at him like a little brother who you could force to hang out with and do things Fuyumi didn't want to. Unfortunately for him, he was the first person you called upon meeting the stranger (Knowing Fuyumi would have had a heart attack upon hearing about your encounter). Initially, Natsuo was concerned, terrified for your physical and mental wellbeing even going so far as to suggest letting his father know about the incident to launch a formal investigation but you were quick to shut that down. You hadn’t been hurt and the man didn’t seem to be skulking in alleyways to assault anyone so there is no reason you should get heroes involved.

"Dude, he looked so familiar! I know him," you press on, hands splayed on the library table as you lean in as if you were about to reveal a secret. "I think he was a childhood friend."

You had purposefully omitted the fact the stranger bore a striking resemblance to his dead brother or how his entire aura radiated familiarity and warmth something you only really felt from said brother.

Natsuo laughs and zips his bag closed. " 'Yumi was your only childhood friend."

"Fine, a neighbour, maybe I don't know, but I know him."

"Should I schedule you with my family psych, or will this fade by next month?" You frown at Natsu, sigh, and then give in to his pronounced lack of interest.

"I don't need to see anyone because I know I'm right," you start to pack up your things. "But, just for you, I won't mention it again."

------

May 17th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five

You feel stupid.

Really fucking stupid.

So monumentally stupid with every single decision that has led you to this moment. Led you to stand before a thick metal door, the sliding peephole pulled back to allow the man guarding the entry a view as to who knocked like some girl scout. The box of cookies in your hands does nothing to evade that image.

“I have a meeting with…Dabi?” you look down at your phone, squinting at the blurry name on your screen then back to the man guarding whatever was in that building. “I think.”

You have no idea if you’re being set up. If the person you had been corresponding with was the infamous villain or just some poser but what you have deduced from your months long investigation is that you had in fact met Dabi in that alleyway so whether it was him or not you were about to meet, he is your only lead into finally figuring out what exactly happened to Touya

“You think?” You hear the smirk in his voice at the uncertainty in yours. “I think you might have the wrong door, sweetheart.”

It is the right door. The creepy encrypted message you received gave you this very location with the exact time to arrive. This was a giant risk on your behalf. Trusting strangers on the internet to give you accurate information as opposed to being lured into a trap for human trafficking but the need to know more about the mysterious man you had met weeks ago was gnawing at your insides so much that you were more need than person. The hunt had begun with a very broad search into Touya’s death and the records surrounding the tragedy before very quickly veering into villain records and archives. There was a small lead with a hospital admittance for an unidentified burn victim in a hospital a prefecture over from Tokyo but that went cold when the body of the patient was identified two weeks post mortem through dental records. You had all but given up when a weird email in your spam box caught your eye. It was from an unknown sender, hence the immediate spam allocation, and had nothing but a link to a chat site. There is no amount in the universe to quantify the stupidity in your subsequent actions from clicking the link to chatting with the stranger on the other side of the screen but they had the information you wanted and so you followed their instructions to a bookstore, then a bar and then finally an internet café where you logged into the already open discord chat that had the location of the final meeting point. You quickly snapped a picture of the chat before it disappeared and three days later, here you stand in a deserted alleyway surrounded by boarded-up doors and graffitied walls.

“This is the address I was given.” You explain, holding up the phone so the guy can get a look at the message. “I promise I'm not with the police or anything, I just have some questions for Dabi and I know that makes me sound like I’m a police officer but I’m not and I’ve been looking for him for weeks so please, let me in.”

Your mouth sets in a frown and despite wanting to look intimidating and rough, you know you look like a child pouting in an attempt to get more cake. “Please, I’ll give you some cookies if you want.” A shitty bribe but a bribe nonetheless.

The man snorts. “You really have cookies in that box?”

“Yes. Fresh and homemade made and some of them can be yours if you let me in” You wiggle the box.

There is a beat of silence then the sliding peephole slams shut.

Fuck.

You close your eyes, disappointed in the fact you had come so far only to be shut down by some guy behind a door. Maybe this was the universe stepping in and preventing you from getting killed or trafficked. Maybe you should let this whole thing go.

Just as the last of your hope leaves you, you hear the click of a lock and then the door is sliding open. The man who you had been speaking to not ten seconds ago stands before you, muscular tattooed arms crossed over his equally muscular chest.

“Choc chip?” he asks, eyes trained on the box in your hand.

You nod.

“Fine, come in” The man tilts his head in a gesture to welcome you in. “Leave some on the counter.”

You nod again, your pace quick as you enter the building beyond the door.

The hallway is dim and damp, filled with cardboard and wooden crates stacked along the walls. The ceilings are high with exposed piping and hanging fluorescent bars that would have once lit up the entire walkway. Light bleeds beneath the many doors that line the hall, muted sounds following the flashes of colour that leak from the closed-off rooms. The smell is unpleasant, with mildew and mould growing along every available surface but what did you expect a dirty unoccupied building to smell like?

“Where’s the?” you turn to ask about the counter, but the man has disappeared. The door slides shut caging you in from the outside world, from an escape if need be. “Hello?” you call out and take a step back, dried leaves crunching beneath your feet.

Fuck. Fuck.

You turn on your heels, heading for the door you had stepped through a few seconds ago but are stopped by a familiar voice.

“Did you really bring me cookies?”

You whirl, fingers tightening on the box between them. “Yes, but if you don’t want them, it’s okay. I just thought that I might-“

You watch as the man you had met weeks before steps into the dim light. Breath catches in your throat as you are met with the face of the villain that has filled your screen for weeks now.

Dabi.

The fire-wielding villain responsible for the deaths of more than 30 people and most likely by the end of this exchange, another.

He is taller than you remember. Towering a full foot over you, his intimidating figure looms in the dim light. Your eyes follow the line of his scarred skin over his cheeks, down his neck, over exposed collarbones before disappearing beneath the neck of his shirt. Heat fills your face at your wandering gaze and you’re thankful for the lack of lighting.

“Who says I don’t want cookies?” Dabi smirks, taking a step closer. His steps are careful; small and reserved as if trying not to frighten you.

“No one. I just don’t want to accuse anyone of anything.” You stammer through your retort, recalling that first conversation.

“So, it is you then.” Dabi muses.

He takes a step forward and when you don’t back away, takes another. The same dance is repeated until he is less than a foot away. Blue eyes are narrowed on you, brows furrowed in intrigue. Same blue as before. Same blue eyes as Touya.

His apprehensive and fascination leave as quickly as it came and you're left staring at a man who looked like he wanted nothing more to do with you.

“So, pretty girl, what can I do for you?” tone casual and smooth as if he had called you that a million times over. “You’ve gone through all this trouble to what?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” You had debated lying but you had already jumped through enough loops to get this meeting, you aren’t in the mood to play games and risk his irritation.

Dabi tilts his head to the side as if to get a better look at you. The way he moves into entirely human, shifting more into that of a preternatural begin and it has your heart racing.

“Talk about what, angel?” his eyes blaze blue as he notices the twitch in your lips at the byname. “About the league? About you? Me?”

“About you.”

Heat pools in your stomach at his affectionate pet name, embarrassment following suit. You should not be letting him get to you the way he is but it could also be a good bargaining chip. If you couldn’t afford his services monetarily, physical payment would not be entirely painful.

There is a pause as if he is debating continuing this conversation.

“We can talk about me but first, I want to ask you something.”

You summon as much false confidence as you can and answer. “Sure.”

The insincerity of your act is palpable, but Dabi lets you go, lets you take this small win.

“How long did it take you to find me?” his question seems genuine, interested in just how exclusive access to him is.

An exhausted sigh leaves your body at the mention of the time that you had put into locating him.

His lips quirk at the gesture.

“Four months and 2 weeks, I think.”

An irrationally long time but there are questions that demanding answers.

“So you’ve spent almost five months thinking about me?” he taunts.

Me. The emphasis on the pronoun doesn’t evade you but you don’t have time to dwell on his excitement.

“Yes. And now I’ve answered two of your questions, can I ask one?”

Dabi shrugs and reaches for the box in your hands. Rough fingers brush against the back of your hands, goosebumps skittering over your skin at the contact. He takes his time opening the small white box, bottom lip pulled between his teeth in contemplation at the contents before him and after a full minute of silently deliberation, does he pick one. Slender unscarred fingers dig into the box, fishing out the biggest and most chocolate filled treat.

“Did you make these?” Dabi holds up the choc chip cookie, inspecting the biscuit in the low light.

“That’s three questions now.” you announce, keeping score. “and yes, I made them this morning.”

The making of the desserts had been a coping mechanism on your part. Too nervous to sit still but not so overstimulated you were willing to exercise to shake off the extra energy, you turned to an activity you hadn’t touched since university. The recipe was one you know by heart, having it gifted to you by your mother on your eighteenth birthday, you were free to think as your body worked through the motions. However, the purpose behind you baking said sweets was not entirely self soothing.

Dabi nods and bites into the biscuit.

“I know you already said you don’t know the guy I mentioned when I first met you and I haven’t mentioned him to anyone again just like you asked me, and I figured with you being a villain, you might have connections that I don’t have and you can access more information as to what happened to him and I promise that I can pay. I’ll pay whatever you want but I don’t really have that much but I’ll pay in food, and that’s kinda why I brought some cookies to show that I can bake but that will only be a small amount because I’m good for a couple thousand-“ you reach into your back pocket to fish out your wallet. “I promise, I won't ever mention this to anyone, but I just really need your help, Dabi.” The juxtaposition of your pastel purple Kuromi wallet holding thousands of dollars as payment for a villain’s services almost makes you chuckle but the lack of recognition from your companion causes you to pocket the purse.

Dabi’s stare is unamused as he chews.

“Why is this guy so important to you?” he asks around a mouthful of chocolate. “You’re willing to blow thousands on some dead guy, not to mention you’ve risked your life coming here, so why is he so special?”

Your fingers curl into a fist, nails digging into your palm before you relax and answer.

“Because he died in a really weird way, and I need to know if there was anything I could have done to prevent it.”

“That’s a stupid reason.” Dabi spits out.

A frown tugs at your mouth.

“He’s dead. Who cares how he died and whether you could stop it or not.” He continues, rolling his eyes as your frown forms. “What’s the real reason you’re looking for answers? There’s something else.”

“It’s stupid.” You mutter, suddenly embarrassed at the reasoning for your investigation.

“Ohh, it can’t be that stupid if you’ve put all this effort in.” Dabi croons. “Come on, angel. You’ve gotta tell me why if I’m gonna do all this work looking for him.”

You take in a deep breath in hopes of smothering the tears that are threatening to spill but the lump sticking in your throat has other plans.

“Because he was my best friend and I loved him and I never got to say goodbye.” You sniff, nose starting to run as the tears build. “Please.”

Dabi stares at you.

“You made these?” the question comes out of left field.

You blink at the villain, unaware as to where he is taking the conversation but answer him nonetheless.

“Yes, I did. It’s stupid I know, bringing cookies as a bargaining chip but I-“

“Your mom’s cookies are better.” Dabi interrupts.

My what? My mom?

“What?”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry but your mom’s cookies will always be the best.”

Your jaw slackens as you stare at the man before you.

“My mother?”

“Yes. Your mom made better cookies and it’s not for lack of trying, yours are really good but they’ll never beat your moms.”

Is he fucking with you? Is this some elaborate psychological warfare that he enacted on all his victims? Are you about to die? How does he know about your mother’s cookies?

“Aww, don’t get upset Chihiro. I'm just being honest.”

The nickname rattles your soul.

Touya.

Before you can even register that you are moving, you have crossed the space between your bodies and swung at the villain.

Your clenched fist collides with his jaw, surprising him out of his teasing. You fall forward, knees the first point of contact as you collapse on top of your long-dead best friend. Your brain can’t keep up, unable to process the life-altering information that had been thrown at you so casually. In most high pressure situations, you would retreat inwards and carefully unpack each and every detail of the occurrence like you were a kid under a Christmas tree; not a package left untouched, but you don’t have that luxury in the current moment. You had seconds to react and for some reason, the primal part buried deep within you chose violence.

Hot fat tears stream down your cheeks as you grip Dabi’s cheeks in your hand, his skin rough beneath your fingers.

“You’ve been alive this whole time?” you cry, fingers digging into his cheeks and when no answer comes you ask again, the palm of your hand connects with his cheek in a sharp slap. “You left me to think you were dead, but you’ve been alive?”

Below you, the villain stares up in disbelief. Eyes wide at the mad woman above him, screeching like a banshee let loose. His thin shirt is scrunched tightly between your fingers, pulling the material taunt against his body. You have no control over your actions, feral and bowing to your emotions. You watch as your hand slips to his neck, pushing at the base of his throat.

Finger wraps around your wrist, pulling your weight off his windpipe and then the world shifts.

You are flipped over as easily as a leaf in the wind. Now on your back, the dust that had been kicked up from the floor sticks in your lungs and you cough as you cry.

Dabi hovers above you. Legs on either side of your hips, hands pinning yours above your head preventing you from causing any more harm to him. You try to kick, to wrench your hands from his grasp, throw him off you with your hips but nothing. You fight back against your opponent, teeth gnashing as you desperately try to find purchase on skin but he has done this too many times before to leave anything to chance. All points of access to an injury on his behalf are sealed up, held high above you and there is nothing you can do to reach.

Your cries are loud and deep and aching. Air leaves you with each heaving sob and you fear you may never breathe again. Spit and tears mix in a hot mess across your cheeks and you would wipe away the mess if not for your hands held above.

“I hate you so much.” You seethe, teeth clenched as you breathe in. “I fucking hate you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You hear Dabi apologising over and over again.

A hand brushes over your forehead, then your cheeks, then your jaw.

“You left me.” You wail. “You left me there, all alone.”

Your chest heaves, air being gulped down as if you had been held underwater to the point of drowning and it felt like you had been. You had been held under for so many years and now you were getting a moment of air, and your brain could not process it.

You take a few more breaths, calming the blood roaring in your ears and pounding heart and finally when your breathing returns to a semi-acceptable rhythm, do you finally acknowledge the man above you.

Dabi glides his palm along your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone before resting his fingers along the side of your neck.

“I’m so sorry.”

A frown pulls at the corners of his mouth.

There is no longer a villain before you. Dabi does not exist. The boy above you is Touya. Your Touya.

You knew it. You knew it was him all along.

“Is it really you?” your voice is hoarse from crying.

“If I answer, you need to promise to keep it a secret,” he whispers, free hand curling in the ends of your hair that lay splayed out beneath you.

“Promise.” You nod and hold out your pinkie the way you did so many times as children.

Touya interlocks his pinkie with yours.

Fresh tears prick at your eyes.

“Hi, Touya,” you whisper.

“Hi.” He whispers back, hand pulling away from yours to glide over your jaw and slot into the hair at the nape of your neck. “I missed you.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and pull his body against yours in a bone-crushing hug. A laugh leaves your friend as he loops his arm around the back of your neck, holding you close. You pull back, face now centimetres from him and wait for him to make the next move. Your body follows his breaths, following his lead just the way you would follow him all those years ago. A lump forms in your throat and you know you look insane; hair mused, cheeks flushed and soaked in tears, eyes still red and crying.

Touya closes the distance, mouth hovering above yours and you think he is going to kiss you but nothing comes.

“Did you really love me?”

A sob leaves you involuntarily.

“I loved you so much, you have no idea.” The truth spills from you. “I love you so much.”

At the confession, Touya kisses you.

His mouth is soft on yours in the gentlest of kisses, almost as if he was afraid that you would fall apart if he pushed any harder. You part your lips to test the waters and when Touya follows your lead opening his mouth against yours, you grip onto the shirt bunched up around his waist. He lets you lead, lets you take control and set the pace for the first few minutes. Following your moves and pressure against your body to not push you any more than you already had been but as you whimper beneath him, his demeanour shifts.

Fingers tighten in your hair and the hand that had been holding himself up comes to rest on your waist, slipping beneath your body to pull you closer to him. Your mouth opens wider beneath his and you feel his tongue trace your bottom lip before flicking into your mouth. Menthol and chocolate fill your senses and you scramble for more, hands gripping his face as you desperately try to get your fill of him; of Touya. The steel of the staples bites into your palm but you don’t care, don’t care what form you have him in, you have your Touya back.

You’re being lifted off the floor, hoisted to sit on his lap, feeling the entirety of his body against yours.

You pull away to stare at him, not believing this is happening and that at any moment you are going to wake up or snap out of your delusion.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Touya asks, eyes frantically searching for the reason you aren’t kissing him anymore.

Your chest constricts at his concern. The same sweet and caring boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

“I’m okay, I just-“You stroke his cheeks and he leans into your touch, inhaling a shaky breath.“I missed you so much. There was so much we didn’t get to do.”

He frowns and nuzzles further into your palm. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t want you to apologise, I just want..” You can’t form the words. Can’t articulate the need within you for him. All these years you’ve held a torch for your deceased best friend. All these years you could have had him with you and now that you do, you aren’t letting go. “I just want you.”

Touya’s frown deepens. “Even now?” His thumbs stroke circles along your clothed skin.

You know he is referring to his crimes. All the bad he has done and probably will do. You do not care. You had long ago abandoned your hope in the heroes of society, having been granted a look into the past of the now top hero. There is nothing for you in that world, nothing on offer that could sway your feelings for the man below you.

“Even now, and tomorrow and the day after that and yesterday and the day before and the month before that” You smile, knowing you weren’t making sense but none of this made sense. “I never forgot about you.”

Touya’s eyebrows knit together in an expression you don’t know and for a moment you panic; worried you had crossed a line that you didn’t know existed. You want to apologise, take back the words that had so carelessly tumbled out but his grip on your body stops you.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he sighs, hands sliding up to press into the small of your back.

“Really?” you beam, unable to stifle the excitement that grows in you at his confession.

You are no longer an adult woman sitting in a dirty and dusty warehouse; you are fifteen and hearing your crush confess words you had been so desperately wishing to be spoken.

Your best friend’s fingers trailing over your spine pull you back to the present.

“Never for a single second,” he testes the waters and slips one hand under the hem of your shirt. “I never wanted to forget you.”

When no protest on your behalf comes, Touya slips his other hand beneath the material and begins to trace shapes into your skin.

“What did you think about?” your question is breathless, head beginning to swim as you feel heat bloom in your stomach.

Touya hums in thought, fingers beginning to climb your ribs. “Good things. Great things actually.” hands splay over the band of your bra. “some bad things but that isn’t important.”

Your thighs slip further apart at the implication; weight now fully resting atop his hips. There is no doubt that he can feel the heat from between your legs, the warmth that had begun to pool in the seam of your panties.

“Bad things?” you ask the question without knowing what kind of answer you would get. “I was nothing but nice to you, what bad things could you be thinking of?”

You feel his cock twitch at your innocence. Perfect.

Your answer comes in the form of an action. Touya leans forward and captures your mouth in a searing kiss. All teeth and tongue as his fingers pressed hard into your spine, holding you against his body as if you were a buoy and he was lost at sea. Your own hands begin to wander, sliding from where they came to rest on his neck, into the hair at the nape of his neck and as he digs his teeth into your bottom lip, you pull at the strands between your digits.

Touya pulls away, breathless.

“I always kept an eye on you, you know.” he pants, pushing your body away only enough to ogle you freely. “And I’ve gotta say you grew up so well.”

There are two thoughts that cross your mind in that spilt second. One: to bring up the fact he has kept you within his sighs for years, has been in the shadows of you life and how there is a part of you, not that big but enough to plant a seed of betrayal, that we can’t forgive him for that. Two: to throw caution to the wind and give into the part of you that aches for him.

The latter wins out.

“I did always think that Dabi was really handsome” you admit, an air of nonchalance in your words.

“Oh yeah? Even with all the new mods?”

“New mods?” you laugh. “Why do you make it sound like you’ve upgraded a game or something?”

Touya laughs with you.

“I’m serious,” vulnerability swims in his eyes as he looks up at you waiting for praise. “Do you really think that I’m still handsome?”

You nod and duck your head closer to his. “I still think you’re so handsome and you will always be handsome, which is really unfair.”

His lips are pressed against yours in a soft kiss. It's gentle and sweet, with no hint of the darkness lurking just below.

“Even after all these years how do you manage to make me so weak?” Touya pulls away to admire you.”You, my pretty girl, are my weakness.”

He tucks your hair behind your ears, holding your cheeks in his cupped hands and pulls you back in for a kiss and you melt into his touch at the possessive compliment.

“All these years, I never thought I’d get to talk to you again let alone touch you.” His mouth moves to your neck, pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “but, fuck, have I thought about it.”

Your skin flushes at his confession.

His teeth sink into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark but not enough to break the skin.

“Thought about kissing you like this” his words are slurred.

Slick begins to pool in your panties, the seam of your jeans dampening.

“Thought about having you in my lap, just the way you are and how good you’d feel on my cock.”

Your head swims at his words.

“When I saw you again for the first time a few years ago, it took everything in me to not walk up to you and kiss you right there and then.” He bites lower, nipping at your collarbone.

Rough hands make their way under your shirt, exploring the expanse of your back.

“Thought about holding you and kissing you and taking you home.” he bites again. “God, the amount of time I’ve spent imagining you under me or spread out just for me.” Breathing becomes hard. “All for me, just for me.” He chants your name as if it were a prayer.

You grind your hips over his, feeling his cock hard and aching beneath you. Touya groans against your throat, fingers digging into your skin. Hands begin to wander downwards until they find purchase on the buttons of his pants, stopping at the metal for approval from the man beneath you and when it comes in a rushed yes, please you flick open the clasp. Your movements are awkward and nervous, having never thought this would happen and you can tell Touya is just as jittery. His fingers dip under the waistband of your pants, toying with the soft elastic of the band. Your hands follow his and pull at the material, trying to pull it down but stop at the realisation there is no way could could do this and still look seductive.

“I’m trying really hard to make this hot, but I don’t think it’s gonna work.” You admit, giggling at the absurdity.

Touya shakes his head, removing his hands from your hips to hold your face again. “I don’t want to fuck you here.” He presses a kiss to your nose.

Before you can ask, he is answering.

“I’m not gonna have the first time I fuck you be on a dirty floor in a random building.” A kiss on your right cheek.

“But what if I want that?” you retort, hand reaching down between the two of you.

His breath catches as your fingers brush against his clothed cock.

“I know you want that,” he pulls your hand away and entwines your fingers. “and you know I do too,” A kiss to your left cheek. “But I had a plan back when we were younger,” he brings your hand to his lips. “and I’ve already had so much taken from us that I’m not letting our first time be taken too.”

Your heart squeezes. He really is the same boy you fell in love with.

“So as much as we both want it, please let me do this, okay?”

You pout, a habit you had formed long ago that usually got you what you wanted from him.

“Please, baby.” The pet name is a gut punch.

You nod and hold up your pinkie.

“You promise?”

Touya grins wider than you had ever seen and entwines his finger with yours.

“I promise.”

May 17th 2477 Touya: aged twenty-six You: aged twenty-five

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ᰔ a/n: NOT PROOFREAD! ohmygosh, this was a long haul. I wrote it and then rewrote it and then rewrote it and so on and so forth till I got here. tiny TINY smut cause i didn’t wanna write a whole ass thing so I might do a one shot of it later. this exhausted me holy- also shout out to billie eilish lmao her entire new album helped me write this mainly chihiro, the greatest and blue but also harry styles' as it was and madds buckley's brother

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honeykawa · 1 month

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Dabi held your unconscious body in his arms, his body and mind feeling still. Heroes and villains had an agreement, an agreement the heroes broke. No one touches the doctors or medical staff; everyone needs healing, it was stupid to kill off the only people who could help with that. You were a doctor, someone that consistently worked with villains because you didn’t care or treat them any differently than a hero. You were a doctor, you were Dabi’s doctor, and no one touched his doctor.

He retrieved you from that burning building, not giving a fuck about any injuries he might sustain. Word about what had happened at the local clinic traveled fast and Dabi wasn’t about to let you die. He wasn’t sure what this feeling was, it was as if time had stopped when he found you, a eerie quiet surrounded him as he made sure you were safe from any harm. Twice and everyone else that helped him get you took a step back, knowing Dabi was dangerous right now as rage seemed to seep out of his body. They even had to convince him to set you down once they made it back to the lov, he refused to let you out of his arms for a while. But once he was sure you were going to be okay, he left. Not a single word was spoken.

Dabi was going to find those heroes. How dare they touch you. How dare they try to kill you. His blood boiled as his skin started to grow hot from the flames that licked his skin as he walked. A crazed look started to appear on his face as he just started setting anything and everything on fire. You may have been a necessary sacrifice or whatever the fuck those heroes would have called it. You were expendable to the heroes, but to Dabi? Oh no, Dabi would burn down the world for you, and he was going to burn it down until those who chose to hurt you paid.

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x self insert #mha imagines #mha dabi #dabi imagine #id watch the world buuurn id watch the world burn for youuuu #been watching too many of those tiktoks fr

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berristreasuredlibrary · 3 months

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Forever With Me

"Does this make me a bad person? Do you think I'm a bad person?"

"I think you're a fucking monster."

"Do you really? Is that by your own free will or what you've been led to believe by other people, my love?"

"Does it matter?"

"To me it does."

Chains rattle as hands raise up, showing off wrists rubbed raw. "It's my free will." A click of teeth, a hand running through messy hair, an annoyed huff. "That's not true. Don't be so cruel to me."

A sharp laugh followed by a scoff, head whipping up to meet crazed eyes. "Cruel?! You've got some balls. You're the one who chained me up."

The cold metal of a blade presses against warm flesh, digging into skin and just barely piercing it, and a low voice beside an ear. "Come on, don't be like that. It's me and you until the end. You're with me. Forever with me, my angel."

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animeomegas · 3 months

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Ideal Valentines Day - Omega! Aizawa, Mic, Toshinori, Dabi

A/N: For the anon who asked <3 I wasn't vibing with Shiggy today, so I left him off. I feel like these all ended up being home dates, but I think being a hero or villain makes those easier lol. There are hints of n-sfw, but it's non-descriptive and very tame.

Aizawa

Actions speak louder than words for Aizawa, and I think his preferred love language for receiving affection is Acts of Service.

He has no need for material items, and that goes doubly for anything covered in hearts. I don't think he's a massive fan of chocolate. And flowers are just another thing that he has to sort out and try to keep alive as long as he can. No, he much prefers practical care on Valentine's day.

He wants you to pick him up from UA after work so he doesn't have to drive, a warm cup of his favourite coffee, far sweeter than his image would suggest, ready for him.

He wants to go straight home of course. When he walks through the door, he would love to see the house sparkling clean and tidy. It lifts a burden off him that he didn't even know was there.

There's no fancy outfits with him. He wants to immediately get changed into the comfiest clothes he has, and he would love if you did the same.

Dinner should 100% be his favourite takeaway, eaten on the couch, of course.

I don't know why, but I don't get the vibe that Aizawa is that interested in sex on Valentines Day. I think he'd prefer the intimacy to come from a shared bath or a massage.

And ideally the night ends early, so he can face tomorrow well rested, for once in his life.

Mic

Hizashi loves cheesy romance, he lives for cheesy romance! He eats, sleeps, and breathes it!

I think receiving gifts is something he loves, so get him a pink teddy bear, get him a comically oversized chocolate bar, get him a sappy card filled with cheesy love poems (bonus if you write them yourself.) He loves it all.

He also wants to be at home, because he's worried about people recognising him and interrupting the date.

He would love, love, love if he came home to a trail of rose petals to follow, he's always wanted to do that!

I think he'd enjoy cooking dinner together, just making a mess, playing around, listening to music.

Please pull him to dance with you, he will melt.

Once the food is eaten and the mess left for tomorrow, I think he'd want to do some sort of activity. A board game, a video game, painting together, anything! He's having fun as long as he's with you.

And then... well he's certainly not going to complain if one of your gifts to him was lingerie or a new 'toy'. And it would be rude to not try them out 😏

Toshinori

His idea of romance is old school. He developed his taste mostly from films, rather than experience, after all.

He wants roses so badly. He can't decide if it's more romantic to get a dozen roses, or just one, so he'll let you decide.

I think something private would be more meaningful to him because he's spent his life in the spotlight.

He wants you to meet him at the door with a rose/bouquet of roses, and then lead him into the living room of your home, where you've laid out a fancy dinner.

He wants the fancy dinner table to be set to the nines, he wants candles, champagne, and some food that he can eat. He wants classical music playing in the background.

And then he wants you to pull out his chair for him and wine and dine him until he's completely smitten, not that that's hard.

He doesn't mind if you order the food, but he'd prefer if you either made it by hand, or had it ordered from a special place as opposed to just off a food delivery app. He wants everything to feel special.

The best way to finish the night after dinner is with a movie. One of his favourite films, probably a ridiculous American action film or terrible romcom.

He needs some good old fashioned cuddling at the same time of course.

And because he's getting old, he wants to spend the final moments of the day tucked up in bed, talking about feelings and the future, and all the fuzzy things you're both looking forward to in your relationship.

Dabi

Dabi is softer than he will admit, which means Valentines Day with him involved tricking him into feeling loved.

You can't do things that are too typical, because he'll get spooked. If he comes home and sees heart shaped balloons or dozens of roses, he will flee the scene.

Luckily, he is utterly weak for pizza, so if he comes home and you've ordered his favourite pizza and got a video game/film set up, he can't resist.

"This isn't some weird Valentine's shit, is it?"

"It's just pizza, Dabi, but if you don't want any, I'll eat it all."

"What? In your dreams, knothead."

Once you've lulled him in with pizza and games, you can start putting the moves on him.

He's almost always down for sex, so that part is easy. The hard part is stopping him from escalating it into something rougher, and keeping it gentle.

He gets frustrated at first that you're being too soft on him, and it's at this point that you start lavishing him in praise and body worship. His frustration turns into bashfulness and Dabi gets kind of shy.

Let him know how much you love him.

And then, right when you're both about to drift off, wish him a Happy Valentine's Day.

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mika-writes-fanfics · 1 year

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Make it up to you

Professor!Touya x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You're assigned to be the teaching assistant for the new, attractive instructor at your university. His name? Professor Touya. Ever the good student, you hope to maintain a professional relationship with him and stay in good standing, but when he publicly embarrasses you in front of the entire class, all that is thrown out the window.

Warnings/tags: Colleg AU, quirkless AU, older Touya (coded to be in his 30s), female reader, student/teacher's assistant reader, professor/student relationship, dumbification, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (female), public sex, usage of sir, public embarrassment, lots of dirty talking, messy sex

Author's note: Huge shoutout to @dabisqueen and @history-be-written for being my beta readers and giving me good suggestions. I appreciate you guys sm!!! This fic truly wouldn't have turned out the way it did without you two.

Word Count: 7.9K

“So,” Your friend turns to you, asking you in piqued interest, “Who’d the department put you with? You know who you’ll be an assistant for yet?”

“Yeah, I was told I’ve been placed with ‘Professor Touya Todoroki’,” you answer. The name is completely unfamiliar to you, though, you’re hoping she has at least heard of him before.

It’s your turn to ask her a question, and you choose to say, “Have you ever had him?”

Much to your dismay, she shakes her head no.

“Nope, never had him,” she replies. You frown slightly at her answer. Turning to your friend’s roommate, you hope to find that she has had some sort of interaction with him.

“What about you? Have you had him before?” You question her. Just like your friend, she shakes her head, much to your disappointment.

“I haven’t,” shesays. “I don’t even think anyone else has talked about him before either. I’ve never heard his name in my life.”

Damn.

You were wanting to hear your peers' experience with your soon to be ‘boss’ of sorts, so that you could prepare yourself, but it seems you’re shit out of luck. You’ll just have to go in blind.

“You know, they hired a new professor this semester. It might just be him,” your friend points out. She smiles at you mischievously before adding, “And rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck.”

“Ooooh, how lucky. I’m jealous,” your friend’s roommate giggles. You scoff at the reaction.

“No reason to be. He’s my professor, ‘s not like I can, you know, do anything with him,” you counter.

You check your phone, seeing that the time to meet the new professor has come. “I gotta head over to his office before his lecture starts. I’ll catch you around.”

“See you later then. Have fun~” your friend farewells in a singsong voice.

You chuckle at her antics and make your way over to the department building and to his office. When you get there, you stop to peer through the window on his office door, trying to see if he’s inside. Luckily, he’s there, looking down at a paper in his hand, unaware of your presence.

You notice right away he doesn’t look like the rest of the university staff. He looks quite a bit younger than the rest of the aging faculty. Though, he was still a couple years your senior, in his early thirties at least. What makes him really stand out to you, apart from his piercing cyan eyes and dark, shaggy hair, is the way he dressed. He’s wearing tight black jeans, a form-fitting white button up, an expensive wristwatch, and black Converse. You can’t help but admire his intense, blue eyes as he studies the sheet of paper in his hand, too focused to notice your staring. Your eyes travel the expanse of his face, taking in his features.

You remember your friend’s words, her little comment echoing in your brain. ‘Rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck,’ you’re reminded. For once, it seems her gossip is true. Even you can’t deny it; Professor Todoroki is very attractive.

But you won’t act on your feelings, you can’t. You’re supposed to be his assistant after all! And so, with that thought in your mind, you snap yourself out of your daze. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves and suppressing your desires, before knocking on the door.

He looks up from his papers and glances at you through the window in the door, before beckoning you inside his office. You swing open the door and take a few tentative steps into the room. He quickly looks you up and down, just for a split second, only for his eyes to settle back on your face and look at you expectantly. You hate how his overt glance at your body flusters you and makes you feel hot all over.

“Excuse me, are you Professor Todoroki?” You ask with a soft voice.

“Yep, that’d be me. Although, you can just call me Professor Touya. I don’t use my father’s last name,” he explains. His deep, smoky voice worsens your nervousness. The way his voice drawls has butterflies swarming in your stomach. He tosses the papers he was reading off to the side and approaches you, smirking down at you. “But what can I do for you, sweetheart?”

The pet name is something you’re surprised to hear coming from your professor. It borders dangerously on unprofessional, and yet, you find yourself letting it slide. Hearing him say something like that to you sends a wave of heat between your legs.

Keeping your cool around him is not going to be easy, especially if he keeps calling you that.

You start by introducing yourself and telling him your name before continuing. “I’m sure the department informed you already, but I’ll be your TA for this next semester,” you start. “I look forward to working with you.”

He hums in response.

“So you’re my little assistant? Gonna help me with all the long hours grading, hm?” He asks.

“Yes sir,” you answer. There’s a darker expression that flashes on his face, but it passes just as quickly as it appeared. He narrows his eyes slightly and lazily leans against his desk, supporting his weight using his forearms. Underneath the fabric of his button-up, you can see the muscles of his arms flexing.

Oh god.

He’s fucking ripped too.

“You know, the other faculty told me about you,” he mentions. You can’t help but quirk up at the comment, feeling curious. What did the other teachers say about you?

“Nothing bad, I hope,” you joke.

“They all said you were a good student. Never a rule breaker, always professional. Top of your class too, I heard,” he starts. It fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment, to hear your hard work has gotten you some recognition. You’re practically preening at the praise. And yet, it feels like there’s something else he wants to add. He straightens up and leans off of his desk. The space between you closes as he stands dangerously close to you.

“But there’s one thing I think they got wrong,” he counters.

You tense up as your mind reels. His voice lowers and he adds, “I’m willing to bet you’re not as good as they say you are.”

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his bold claim. Just who does he think he is?

You clench your jaw, biting down the urge to snap back. He’s your superior. You can’t just yell at him and let him have it, not this early in the semester at least. Thus, you settle for tense questioning. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” he insinuates and takes a step back. The distance between the two of you gives you space to breathe, space to fume. “We’ll meet an hour before class to go over the lesson plan. I give a lot of tests over the semester, so come by every afternoon to help with grading.”

Oh great.

You’ll be spending most of your week nights with this hot asshole.

“Understood?” He asks. His cobalt eyes bore into yours as he looks at you expectantly, waiting for your response.

“Yes sir,” you answer flatly. Despite your lack of enthusiasm, he seems to grin at your agreement.

“Hm, sir. That’s not something I’m used to hearing from my students,” he teases. There’s a darker look in his eyes that disappears as quickly as you notice it. “Your underclassmen tend to be more… casual around me.”

“And does that bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling a bit awkward at your apparent odd choice of words.

“No,” he says, quickly denying it. His voice seems to drop an octave, and he adds, “I prefer it, actually.”

There seems to be something off about the situation, something greater lying behind the surface of his words, but you can’t seem to figure out what greater meaning lies underneath something as simple as an honorific to him.

The tension is broken after he clears his throat and leans off of the desk upon looking at the clock. “But enough of that,” he starts. “Our first lecture is scheduled to start soon. Let’s start talking about the lesson plan.”

If there’s one thing you've learned about Professor Touya over the course of the next few weeks, it’s that he’s both fun to talk to yet incredibly strict. He has a penchant for teasing you and the two of you often banter with one another, but despite the growing bond forming between the two of you, he still insists on you calling him sir.

You suppose he still wants to maintain at least a bit of an aura of professionalism between the two of you. And so, despite how awkward it feels, you continue to address him as such, unaware of the little quirk in his smirk that always follows.

In speaking with him and sitting in during his lectures, you find yourself being intrinsically drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You reason it’s because you admire his remarkable intelligence, amongst other enigmatic qualities.

He’s driven. Witty. Mysterious. Captivating, even.

With how much he has going for him, it’s no mystery why the university hired him; he’s easily one of the brightest minds in his field, and an engaging professor as well. You could learn from him.

Yeah.

That’s all it is.

You just want to learn from him, is all.

That’s why you��re gravitating to him.

You don't want to think about him outside of class.

You don’t want to think about the way his attractive smirk gives you butterflies.

You don’t want to think about kissing those soft lips of his as you stare at him speaking.

And you definitely don’t want to think about his fingers descending down your body and touching your aching core.

You try to avoid thinking about those less than pure daydreams you have about him, both out of self respect for yourself, considering the insulting implication he threw at you during your first meeting, and out of aversion to entertaining lewd ideas about your professor. However, despite this conscious decision, your subconscious has other plans. You find yourself often stealing glances his way, admiring his attractive features, much to your own dismay.

Today is another instance of your subconscious betraying you, and your eyes are now fixated on him, taking in the frustrated scrunch in his brow and tensed shoulders. He abruptly stops setting up the presentation on the computer and walks over towards the windows in the classroom. In an attempt to get respite from the rising heat in the room, he cracks open all the windows.

“You’d think with the high tuition they’d have enough money to fix this damn AC already,” Professor Touya scoffs. The building’s lack of cool air is a well-known problem, which is why you wore such a thin, short dress today in the first place. It was too damn hot to show up to class wearing much else.

He sighs in annoyance as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves, revealing something that has your breath hitch in your throat. They start from his wrists and travel up his arms. Shades of purple and blue accent his black ink work, the hues of blue matching his mysterious, cerulean-colored eyes. From what you’re able to discern, his tattoos go even farther than just his forearms. You wonder just how many he has, and where. The curiosity makes your mind entertain some less than pure ideas, picturing his bare skin and imagining just what kind of ink work he hides underneath his clothes. You try to reign in these fantasies of yours, but you’re too busy drooling over him.

Too busy to even notice that he’s caught you staring.

He smirks to himself upon seeing you ogling him. His hunch was right, there was something more between the two of you; an unspoken, mutual sexual tension. Though, you seem to be fighting your apparent attraction to him, he could see it in the way you quickly caught yourself and looked away, avoiding looking at him much more at all. He’s hoping he can change that. Maybe he can make you see there’s no shame in it. He’d be more than happy to indulge your naughty fantasies.

He lazily glances at the clock, seeing how the scheduled lecture will start shortly. It’s then that he remembers something. He leans closer to you and taps the desk, startling you and flustering you with his sudden closeness, and requests, “Hey, I had some handouts for today’s class printed out upstairs. Will you go pick them up for me?”

“Yes sir, I can do that,” you agree.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. And with that, you leave the class and head to the printing room. Shortly after you leave, a couple students trickle into the room, all belonging to the same close-knit clique of fraternity members. They each take their usual seats and continue to talk amongst themselves freely. Their conversation is painfully loud. He can hear them all the way from the front of the classroom, even though they sit far in the back.

“Aw man, that hot TA isn’t here today,” one of the frat boys bemoans. “She’s usually around before class.”

“Fucking bummer,” another complains. “Was hoping to get her number.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that,” the other agrees. “She’s a total fucking nerd but I bet she’d be a decent fuck.” They all loudly laugh at that comment and continue making their comments about you.

He knows their type, and just how it would end for you should you associate with them. Besides the fact that they’re all idiots and that alone would be enough to disappoint you, you would be wasted on them. Those frat boys wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you. They wouldn’t know how to make you cum. They wouldn’t make you completely dumb with pleasure. There’s just something special about getting a normally smart girl to completely fall apart for him, to give a girl so much pleasure that everything else melts away. And truthfully, he wants to take you there. He wants to see just what it would take to fuck you stupid. He has to know, just how much pleasure does it take to turn your brain to mush.

His desire for you is why these frat boys irk him so much. They casually talk about seducing you into their bed like you’re an easy lay. But the fun that comes with you is the cat and mouse game, the deliberation in your brain between suppressing your attraction towards him and wanting to cave into your own desires. Your little errand couldn’t have come at a better time. He’s glad you’re not here to give them an opportunity to make a move on you, but he can’t keep sending you away before class starts to spare you the misfortune of these idiots making a pass at you.

No.

He needs to send a little message to the competition.

And lucky for him, he’s got just the idea.

More students start filing in as he makes his plans. He has everything thought out, and all that is left is the final piece: you. But shortly before Professor Touya starts the lecture, you make it inside the classroom, papers in hand. You attempt to start passing out the handouts, when he stops you in your tracks. He takes the stack of sheets from your hands and haphazardly tosses them aside.

“I thought they needed that for today?” You ask, thrown off by the apparent change in plans.

“Nah, we’ll just have them copy the diagram themselves for today. I saw some research that suggested it helps more with memorization. You’ve seen their test grades, the students need all the help they can get,” he lies. You can’t help but genuinely chuckle at his light jab at his own students. As much as you think it’s a waste to discard the handouts– if Professor Touya believes it’ll help the students, you won’t argue with him.

“Alright, whatever you say, sir,” you laugh. The lecture starts as it normally does and follows the previously discussed lesson plan, until it comes time to show the students the diagram. He turns to you mid-lecture, about to ask you for some sort of assistance.

“You’ve got better art skills than me. Draw this diagram. Top of page ninety,” Professor Todoroki instructs. He slides over his copy of the textbook, pages turned to a rather complicated figure. It’s far too much information to draw from memory.

“Sure thing,” you answer. You pick up a marker and uncap it, before holding the textbook in the crook of your arm. You’re about to start copying the figure near the bottom of the board when he interrupts you.

“Ah, I’m going to write more notes there in a minute. Why don’t you put it over here instead?” He points far up the whiteboard to some blank space tucked in the upper corner. Your stomach sinks at seeing where he wants you to place the diagram. You’re regretting wearing such a short dress today. But still, short dress or not, you have to do this. Maybe… Maybe you can manage it, without flashing the entire class?

Without much of a choice, you study the diagram, balancing the heavy textbook in one hand while you reach up the whiteboard with a dry-erase marker in hand. You start to stand up on the tips of your toes and you try to aim for a slightly closer area of blank space, all the while your mind is preoccupied with the hem of your skirt. You’re dangerously close to accidentally erasing all of his previous notes, something you’re not too keen on doing given his strictness.

“Having trouble?” Professor Touya teases, with an amused grin on his face.

“No, ‘m fine,” you lie. Not that you would admit it to him, but it’s more than just a bit awkward to both hold onto the book and stand up high to draw the figure.

“Here, let me,” he insists. He comes up behind you, his crotch just barely brushing against your ass. Your breath gets caught in your throat at your body involuntarily stiffens. You internally cringe at how something so simple as a passing touch makes your body feel hot.

He plucks the textbook from your hands, allowing you a bit more freedom of motion to stand up higher and draw with precision. He sidles up next to you and holds the book open for you. Still, even with his help, it’s still hard to draw exactly where he wants you to. Your dress already feels rather high on your legs as is, you’re sure disaster would happen should you stand up higher.

“Come on, you’re almost there, just stand up a little more,” he encourages and goads. You almost jolt when you feel a warm hand touch your waist, egging you on to push the envelope just a little further. Not wanting to disobey him, you do as he says, though the regret is instant. The skirt of your dress hikes over your hips and reveals the curve of your ass. A sharp, hushed silence sweeps over the room. Your ears feel like they’re burning and tears are welling up in your eyes at the sheer humiliation you feel in this moment. You draw the figure anyways, albeit carelessly and sloppily.

You just want this to be over.

But since your back is turned to the class, you’re completely unaware of the silent exchange happening between Professor Touya and the frat boys in the back row. While you are doing as he asked, ever his obedient assistant, he’s busy glowering at his competition.

The message is clear.

You are off limits.

When the diagram is finally drawn, you straighten back out and place your feet flat on the ground. You should be a bit relieved when your dress finally covers your body once more, but you’re unable to feel that respite. The damage is done, and you’re now left to simmer in your own embarrassment.

“Is that all you needed from me, sir?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper and thick with emotion. There’s a lump in your throat forming as you fight back the urge to cry.

“Yeah, that’s all, sweetheart,” he answers, in a manner that’s almost a subtle attempt at soothing you. You let out a shaky, uneven breath.

“Okay,” you say through a tense sigh. Your voice cracks when you speak once more, “I-I’ll be in your office to… get started on grading.”

You dismiss yourself and nearly rush out of the classroom, all too eager to distance yourself from the source of your shame. Once you’re in the safety of the hallways, you freely let the tears flow down your face. You’re at least thankful the halls are somewhat sparse, meaning that few are able to see you fall apart like this. The last thing you can handle emotionally is someone asking you what happened or if you were okay. Talking about it would just make the humiliation much more real.

When you finally reach Professor Touya’s office, you close the blinds on his door behind you and prop yourself up against the desk with your hands. You try to recollect yourself, to no avail. Your shame just eats away at you. But at least with his office so far out of the way of all other classes and the blinds drawn down, no one can see you fall apart like this. You can stew in your emotions somewhat privately, at least until Professor Touya gets back.

Professor Touya.

You want to sneer at the thought of him. The more you think about what happened during the lecture, the more you can’t help but assume he wanted to embarrass you on purpose, like the asshole he is. He enjoys toying with you too much, but this time, he really went too far. You think you’ve been much too cordial with him. When he gets back, you swear you’ll give him a piece of your mind. Fuck professionalism, that was thrown out the window when he forced your hand and caught a peek up your dress.

Speak of the devil, or rather, think of the devil, and he appears. More time than you thought must have passed while you were smoldering in your feelings, as Professor Touya leisurely strolls into his office, now apparently finished with the lecture. You wipe your tears on the back of your hand, trying to make yourself look a little less weak in front of him and steeling your nerves to tell him off.

“So what the hell was that about, huh? Why do you get off on being an absolute dick to me? I know you did that shit on purpose,” you accuse. He makes his way over to you and stands in front of you, partially caging you against the desk. The close proximity to him makes you feel hot with what you assume is indignation.

Yeah, that’s what this feeling is.

You despise him.

He doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to let you vent out your frustrations, taking the spite you hurl at him. You’re very much angry at him, filled with so much frustration that your voice is unsteady as you yell, “You’re such a fucking ass. And for what! I did nothing to you, I’ve been nothing but helpful and polite. What could possibly make you want to humiliate me like that? What have I done to make you hate me like this?”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t hate you,” he soothes. His voice sounds much more husky when he adds, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Well I still think you’re an asshole for that little stunt you pulled, even if it wasn’t because you hated me,” you counter, speaking in between breaks in your voice. There’s still tears breaking past your lash line as a consequence of feeling so heated. Your emotions are only further worsened by the confusion you feel. If it wasn’t a malicious attempt to knock you down, why would he do such a thing to you?

“I know, I know,” he agrees. “How about I make it up to you then?”

“How could you possibly make it up to me?” You question as your voice cracks under the weight of your emotions. You move to wipe your face when he beats you to the punch, brushing away the tears falling down your cheek with his thumb. His hand stays on your face and he tilts your chin to him, angling your face closer to his.

“Well, I could start by making you feel good, give you something else to think about,” he insinuates. Your breath gets caught in your throat at his implication. ��I know you feel it too, this tension between us. I’d love to indulge your fantasies about me, if you’d let me.”

You part your lips, searching for the right words and the strength to reject him, but with his face hovering tantalizingly close to yours, lips mere inches away, you realize you don’t have it in you.

Fuck.

You want him so bad.

“P-please,” you whisper. He has a shit eating grin on his face at your meek and embarrassed begging.

“What was that? You’ll need to speak up, sweetheart, I can’t hear you,” he teases. You swallow the lump in your throat, and lock eyes with him.

“Please, make me feel good,” you say again, this time with a little more conviction.

“Atta girl,” he praises. And with your agreeance, he closes the distance between the two of you and slots his mouth against yours. A gasp escapes you at the feeling of his lips working against your own. Your yearning and daydreaming didn’t prepare you for the intensity of this, for the pure wanting behind every movement of his lips.

The kiss becomes more and more heated as he presses his body further against yours, leaving little space between the two of you. His tongue dips out from his mouth and runs along the seam of your lips and you part slightly, allowing him the space to slip the wet muscle inside. You find yourself shuddering at the contact and gripping onto the fabric of his button up as a way to tether yourself in this moment. It’s almost a bit embarrassing just how much you’re melting into his touch from something as simple as kissing. Your body is eating it up regardless, sending waves of warmth throughout your entire being and pooling between your legs.

“Can I touch you?” He asks, after parting from the kiss, his breath fanning over your lips. Although you’ve been dreaming about this moment, and you desperately want to feel his touch all over you, your mind can’t help but chime in; you shouldn’t.

You really shouldn’t.

But with his hardening cock pressing up against your stomach and professionalism now abandoned, you throw caution to the wind and give in. You give him a nod and allow his hands to roam over your body. It’s almost dizzying to feel his touch, especially when his hands palm your chest and grope your ass, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands. He dives back in to press his lips up against yours in an intense, crushing kiss once more. You whimper against him, flustered at the feeling of his hot touch over your clothes. You’re becoming drunk on lust just from touches alone.

Your arousal is heightened as the hands at your ass trail to the front, reaching your hips, before snaking up your dress. His fingers press against your clothed mound. He smirks into the kiss upon feeling the wetness already clinging against the fabric.

You whine at the loss of friction when his fingers pull back, but the absence of his touch is short-lived. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and tugs the clothing down your thighs. You part your legs to allow him to completely rid you of them, leaving your cunt now bare before him. You’re glad the blinds on his door are drawn, preventing anyone else from seeing the debauched sight of your panties on the floor in front of your professor.

The pads of his fingers teasingly trace up your inner thighs, slowly inching bit by bit up your legs and making his way to your aching core. You let out an involuntary gasp when he finally grazes your pussy, his touch now no longer separated by a layer of clothing.

His fingers run up and down your folds, spreading your juices over yourself and teasingly avoiding sinking into your eager hole. You squirm and jolt every time the tips of his fingers brush against your clit. His warm touch on your engorged bundle of nerves sends jolts of pleasure up your spine. The embarrassment and shame melts away into pure, unadulterated desire with every drag of his fingers over your slit, leaving you wetter and wetter. Your slick coats his fingers as he grazes over your hole. He looks down to see his skin glistening with your wetness, causing him to suck in a breath at the sight.

Realizing he’s teasing himself by waiting any longer, he decides to give you what you’ve been wanting. Two fingers finally dip inside of your heat, slowly at first. You let out a breathy moan as his digits sink into you. When they bottom out inside of you, you want to squirm at how full you feel with just his fingers alone. They’re the perfect combination of long and thick, stretching out your cunt with ease.

A sharp inhale escapes you when he slowly pulls out, almost entirely, before pumping back inside of you. He sets an agonizingly slow pace at first as he watches your every reaction, studying what movements and angles have you panting for him. Ever observant, he effortlessly finds your most sensitive spots and hones in on them before quickening his pace.

Your legs tremble and shake with every harsh thrust of his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to cumming with little effort on his part. He knows just how to curl them up, just how to press the ball of his hand against your clit, just how to get you panting for him. The relentless pumping of his fingers in and out of your hole sends floods of wetness to your core, coating his fingers with your slick. Moans loudly tumble out of your mouth when he slips another into your heat. Though as much as he’s enjoying hearing your slutty moans, he seems distracted.

He puts his palm over your mouth and leans into your ear. “Shhh, someone’s coming,” he hushes. “Might wanna quiet down unless you want your classmates to barge in and see your pussy full with my fingers.”

You don’t have to see him to know he’s smirking at the comment, feeding off of your apparent embarrassment. The sounds of footsteps and talking nears closer and closer to the door. Knowing your classmates are nearing the door while your legs are obscenely spread for your professor and stuffed full of his thick fingers makes you feel hot with humiliation and overwhelmed with panic, but the pleasure Touya gives you is too much to give up. And so, you bite back your moans in an attempt to stay completely silent. Your body tenses with the risk of getting caught, causing you to clench down even tighter around his fingers. But even though you’re desperately fighting back the urge to whine and wail for him, with very obvious strain, the bastard keeps pumping in and out of you. You just hope the sound of wet squelching isn’t audible through the door.

“I can’t see in, the blinds are closed. Is he not here today?” A student asks, her question partially muffled through Touya’s office door.

“No, he’s here. My roommate just left his class a while ago,” another student replies. The door knob jiggles as she tries to open the door. You hold your breath, expecting it to swing open and to be caught in the act.

Only, it never happens.

The knob refuses to yield to the student’s attempts. She mutters out of frustration, “Damn, must be in a meeting right now. His office is locked.”

“Huh, I guess we’ll come back tomorrow,” the other classmate shrugs.

You sigh in relief, letting some of the tension dissipate. So long as you’re quiet, you can make it through this without anyone knowing what went on in his office. Still, even that is proving to be a challenge with the way his fingers continue to slam in and out of your pussy. Your knuckles turn white as you grip onto the desk like it’s your lifeline, pouring all your urge to moan into tensing your hands. His half-lidded, cobalt eyes stay trained on your face, seemingly searching for something, while a lazy and smug expression plasters his own face.

A change in the angle of his fingers sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body and a stifled squeal wrangles past your lips. He snickers at your failed attempts at staying quiet. You instantly feel yourself sweating, either from the anxiety or from quickly racing towards your peak, you’re unable to discern. Hopefully the students didn’t pick up on it.

Much to your horror, one of the students speaks, “Wait, did you hear that?”

“No? What’d you hear?” The other asks in confusion. You cringe, worrying that their curiosity will lead to your social downfall. If they know someone is in there, they’ll demand you answer them. Should that happen, you’re sure Professor Touya will make you answer the door. Not only that, but with the way he’s eating up your embarrassment, you worry he’d make you answer their questions, all the while he still fingers you out of view.

“It was like… a squeak or something,” she explains.

“Might have been a mouse, this building is super old ya’ know,” the other offers.

The suspicious student laughs and says in disgust, “Ew, let’s just get the hell out of here. Lab starts in 5 minutes anyways.”

You can’t seem to hear the sound of their footsteps leaving over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the wet noises of your cunt gushing around his fingers. Evidently, Touya hears. “They’re gone, sweetheart,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. The feeling of his breath against your ear has you shuddering in response. His hand retracts from your face, no longer muffling your sounds. “Since we’re alone again, why don’t you let me hear those loud, slutty sounds of yours, yeah?”

He starts to mouth your neck, intermixing his kisses with rougher bites against the delicate skin of your throat, leaving behind blooms of teeth marks and hickeys in his wake. It’s almost as if he wants everyone on campus to talk, like he wants your classmates to know you slept with him; the marks all over your neck damning evidence of your hookup. The sensation of his lips all over you and the curving of his fingers against that bundle of nerves inside you has you keening for him, whines now freely escaping your mouth.

“A-ah, feels so good,” you moan with a drawn out voice. He thrusts his fingers in and out of you in earnest, spurred on by your sweet sounds echoing in his office. You let out a choked noise upon feeling him speed up, and your walls clench down on his fingers, sucking them further into your heat. He can tell you’re quickly nearing your peak with the way your pussy flutters around him, contracting wildly.

He pulls away from your neck and mutters against your skin, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh, “Yeah, my fingers fucking your cunt feel that good? Gonna come on fingers then?”

The sound of his deep voice spewing such filthy words pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you like a harsh wave, stealing your breath away at the impact. You loudly moan as your cunt contracts around his fingers, all the while he continues to pump in and out of you, working you through your release. True to his orders, you gush around him, and your slick freely leaks from your sensitive hole. He finally relents and pulls out of you when you squirm from the overstimulation, attempting to wriggle away from the excessive pleasure. A pleased smirk paints his face upon seeing his fingers glisten with your wetness in the light. The sight gives him an idea, one that goes straight to his cock just at the thought.

“Open up,” he commands. The fingers wet with your juices hover over your lips, waiting for you to follow his demands. You shyly part your lips, allowing his fingers to slip into you. The tang of your own slick touches your tongue and you hold eye contact with him as your mouth closes around his fingers.

The feeling of your tongue swirling around his digits and the sight of your lips closing around him has his mind racing. He can’t help but think of how your mouth would feel on his cock and how filthy you would look on your knees for him, pretty face nestled against his pelvis and teary doe eyes looking up at him. But he’ll save that for another time.

He needs more than just your mouth right now.

Once his fingers are sufficiently cleaned off by your tongue, he pulls them out. He surges forward and kisses you, sliding his tongue past your lips. The taste of you still lingers in your mouth. He lewdly moans into the kiss, feeling that much hornier upon sampling your taste.

“Shit,” he curses against your lips after pulling back. “You taste so good.” He dives back in, passionately kissing you once more and tangling his tongue with yours. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’d bend you over this desk and devour this cunt, but I’m just dying to be inside you.”

“I need it, I want it too. Please, take me,” you beg. Never once did you anticipate you’d be begging for your professor to fuck you in earnest. Never once did you think you’d see the smirk on his face at your lewd pleading. And you certainly didn’t believe you’d ever feel his hands slide under your dress and lift it over you, unclasping your bra along with it, leaving you bare before him.

He pulls back from you and starts to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clinking in the room makes your ears burn at the lewdness and your pussy clench in anticipation. He frees himself from the confines of his dark jeans, leaving you salivating at the sight of him.

You want to drool upon seeing how he’s quite thick and long, with prominent veins running along his shaft. You’re then pushed down flush against the top of his desk, splayed over a mess of papers, and he hooks one of your legs over his shoulders. Your breath hitches when he positions his cock in between your folds with his other hand and runs the head up and down your slit, collecting the slick dripping from you and lubing his cock.

He locks eyes with you as he finally pushes the tip in, relishing in your expression as he slowly slips in, inch by inch. Meanwhile, your full attention is focused on the way his thickness stretches you out and how the veins on his shaft drag against your walls as he sinks into you. You feel a bit breathless when he finally bottoms out and his tip kisses your cervix.

He starts to pull his hips back until his cock nearly slips out, before pushing back into you and filling you up once more. You feel completely stuffed. True to his words, you can’t think about anything else, the embarrassment you felt frowning more and more distant in your mind and being replaced by sheer, mind numbing pleasure.

But when he really starts rutting in and out of you?

Your brain is filled with cotton. He can tell by the way your eyes glaze over and soft moans sound from your parted, panting lips that he’s slowly fucking you stupid. It fills him with a bit of pride to see you being reduced to a brainless, horny mess for him, and the realization goes straight to his cock.

“T-touya,” you stammer and moan upon feeling his thrusts increase in tempo. You never called him by his first name before, but now that he’s inside of you, it was reasonable for you to believe the two of you are well past formalities.

“It’s still sir to you,” he growls, correcting your slip up. He punctuates his statement with a hard and deep thrust, making you sharply gasp. His stern voice draws a shudder out of you and you find yourself clenching down on him.

“‘M sorry, s-sir,” you apologize. You can feel his cock throb in your walls at the honorific. Even through your lust clouded mind, you put the pieces together.

Oh.

That’s why he liked you calling him sir.

“Yeah, that’s better,” he breathes. “Like the sound of that out of your mouth more than my name. Keep it up, sweetheart.”

Spurred on by your words, he hooks your other leg over his shoulder, slightly raising you off of the desk and angling his thrusts to hit even deeper inside of you. You grip onto the edges of the table as he fucks into you harder.

He’s canting into you so deeply and sharply that the desk shakes with every harsh clap of his hips against your thighs. Papers scatter onto the floor, picture frames fall flat on the table top, pens spill out of their holders and clatter onto the ground, all the while he chases one goal: to make you a stupid, incoherent mess from his cock.

His pace quickens and you bite down on your knuckle in an attempt to muffle your whines and moans, not wanting to fill the entire wing of the building with the sounds of sex. You feel the pleasure rapidly building as he hammers into you, pressing up against that sponges bundle of nerves along your walls. It’s easy to tell he is feeling the same, as more and more deep moans and curses tumble from his lips while he ruts into you. The sound of his voice moaning out for you combined with the angle of his cock pushes you to the verge of orgasming.

“Hah, fuck. ‘M close. Wanna cum, sir. Please make me cum,” you desperately beg. He throbs at your dumbified state and from the word sir coming out of your mouth.

Shit, he’s getting close too.

“Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over these papers then?” He asks, amid pants. He becomes drunk at just the thought of you cumming and dripping all over his cock. It sends a shock wave of pleasure straight between his legs and he rambles on, “Think you can squirt f’me too?” His hips brutally snap into yours, giving you the friction you need to finally be pushed over the edge.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You chant, slurring each of your words in drunken pleasure. You finally fall apart with a silent scream, and just as he was hoping, you gush around him.

“That’s it, cream all over my fucking cock, sweetheart,” he encourages. Strings of your slick cling to his cock and snap with every clap of his pelvis against your skin. He continues to thrust in and out of you, recklessly chasing his own release as you lay below him, now teetering on the edge of overstimulation.

Your pussy clamping down on him and your walls fluttering finally pushes him over. His hips stutter and he cums with a deep groan, painting your insides white.

He stills, momentarily keeping his cock nestled in your walls, as he lowers your legs back down against the desk. Slowly, he pulls out of you, glancing down between your legs to see your combined releases leaking out of your hole. He watches, eyes transfixed, as his seed slowly starts seeping out of you and pooling on the sheets below.

The two of you really did a number on his desk, and his entire office, for that matter. You lay there on the table, dazed and panting, attempting to catch your breath and come back down from your high. He can’t help but smugly chuckle at your dumbified state, before he tucks himself back into his pants.

“What a mess you’ve made,” he teases. He walks off and heads to the door, about to leave, when he turns over his shoulder and adds, “Make sure to clean up after yourself.”

You steal a glimpse at the wrecked state of the desk, partially horrified at the wetness pooling between your legs and onto the assignments and handouts. You stare at the wet spots on the sheets of paper.

Fuck.

Maybe it’ll dry off.

You hope so, at least.

Your face burns when you walk into his classroom the next day. You make eye contact with him as you go to stand near the computer, bringing up the PowerPoint for the lecture. The situation is more than just awkward.

How do you proceed from here?

You’re not even sure what to say to him, if you’re supposed to greet him as usual. Your mouth feels dry from nervousness, and you take a drink from your water bottle. A student then walks up to Professor Touya, thankfully taking the heat off of you to speak to him.

“Professor Touya?” The student starts, preparing to ask him some sort of question.

“Yes, what is it?” He answers.

“Did you spill something on my papers?” The student confronts. You choke on your drink as he presents his graded assignment that looks to be partially sullied by water damage, only you and Professor Touya both know- that is definitely not water.

“Hm, good question. I’m not sure, my TA graded most of these,” he deflects, feigning ignorance. He thinks for a moment, before snapping his fingers and saying, “You know what? Why don’t you ask her? She might know what happened.”

To your horror, the student takes his suggestion, turning to you and interrogating, “What is this? Is this milk?”

“Haha, yeah. Milk. It’s just milk,” you force out. You wish you could crawl into a hole and disappear at this moment from the sheer amount of embarrassment you feel. You awkwardly apologize, “Um, sorry about that.”

“I mean, it’s okay I guess. Accidents happen,” the student shrugs.

“Alright, if that’s all, we have to set up for today’s lecture. If you’ll excuse us,” Professor Touya intervenes. The student then walks off to take his seat as other students start trickling in. With the student now out of earshot, you confront him.

“I hate you so much right now,” you say. “That was so embarrassing!” He chuckles at your situation, evidently very entertained by your dismay.

But as much as this circumstance embarrasses you, you can’t help but want more of last night, ruined papers be damned. Feeling bold, you ask, “Make it up to me?”

He gives you a cocky smirk, thrilled to know you want to be fucked dumb yet again. “Sure thing, sweetheart,” he agrees. “I’ll be waiting in my office whenever you want me.”

Tags: @the-milk-anon , @mirayasimpinghard

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pinkykats-place · 11 months

Text

Male Reader x bnha male character(s)

Tumblr Recommendations

Disclaimers!

The stories linked are NOT mine.

Most contain mature content.

Gif not mine.

Note: if you read and enjoy any of these stories - please like, leave a comment and/or reblog original post!

Abnormal

character(s): Class 1-A and bits w/ Aizawa Shouta [platonic]

Summary: basically class 1-A w/ a rescued mutant quirk user, claimed to be used as an “nomu” experiment from authorities but is generally under UA’s hand for now due to the help of Aizawa’s quirk to prevent... accidents

Ghostly Prince

Reader x Bakugou, Midoriya, Sero

Summary: Bakugo, midoriya, and sero with a tall tattooed boyfriend with a powerful medium quirk who talks to ghost kinda like paranorman and can summon them to fight people

Dirty Thoughts for a Clean Man

Overhaul x male reader

NSFW fic

Dabi x male!Reader

Summary: Reader helps Dabi dye his hair and feelings are revealed.

Warning: smut is mentioned but not explicitly written

Dabi With A Neko Boyfriend

not scary at all (nsfw)

ojiro x virgin!male!reader

warnings: virgin reader, crying, slight mention of a breeding kink kinda

dumbed down (NSFW)

m!reader x denki kaminari

smut!

tw: dumbification, toys, daddy k

SATURDAY NIGHT (nsfw)

[ I. Midoriya x Male!Reader ]

Summary: aged up au with smut

❝ 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚 ❞

𝙄𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙪 𝙭 𝙆𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞’𝙨 𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧

Teaser ➤ Izuku realizes he must act to get what he wants.

been fantasizin! (nsfw)

izuku midoriya x male reader

WARNINGS: heat cycles, bunny quirk, ear-pulling, creampie (x2), toy use, overstimulation, manhandling, dacryphilia, soft dom!izuku, praise, kissing, drool/spit, body worship, dirty talk, breeding mention, use of the word “pussy” as a synonym for (ass)hole, amab reader

do it again (nsfw)

aizawa shouta x himbo!male reader

cw: mentions of creampie(s), large chest (pecs), teasing, anal, headlocks, fingerhooking, drool/spit, dumbification, veryyy minor dirty talk

Hawks x top male reader

Smut fic

SOFTSPOT (nsfw)

aizawa shouta x male reader

WARNING: amab reader, praise, degradation, spitting, dirty talk, crybaby!reader, himbo!reader, fingering, anal, nipple play, chest mentions, use of the words ‘tits’ in a mocking manner, dumbification, mutual masterbation, sadism, humiliation, creampie

Hitoshi Shinso x Male! Reader

Smut Drabble Fic

a healthy recovery!

bakugo, todoroki and midoriya (seperate) x m! reader

Summary: reader is recovery girl’s grandson with a healing quirk

Bnha boys reaction to their boyfriend having a Holstaur quirk

characters: bakugou, kirishima, hawks, dabi

454 notes · View notes

kimjun · 11 months

Text

-Have you gotten over ____?

"I may be with someone else, but if she called me back, I would drop everything to be by her side! "

Leon Kenedy/ Itachi uchiha / Jason Todd/ Dick Grayson / Eren / Draken / Dabi / Ghost / Diluc / Yuji

#reader insert #x reader #dc x y/n #jason todd x reader #dick grayson #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #bnha dabi #draken x reader #eren x reader #itachi x reader #ghost x reader #diluc x reader #yuji x reader #dcu #damian wayne

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dabixcompress · 1 year

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Dabi going crazy over reader with a healing quirk <3

tw kidnapping and yandere

Dabi loves sweet civilians like you, the ones who find him injured and ignore their gut telling them to run, hide, call a hero or leave him to die. He loves when they give him praise while nursing him, telling him that "You're strong. You can do this. Deep breaths." Your soft hands hold onto his waist while you hug him, your quirk activating as you try to comfort him.. Your sweet voice as you start to tear up at the thought of him dying even though he was a stranger. After you healed him with your adorable quirk, he couldn't help himself, and he took you home.. you put up a fight, like a tiny rabbit kicking against the big bad wolf. By the time he had you tied up on his bed, you were out of breath, begging him not to hurt you and sobbing. Poor thing, you misunderstood him. He just wanted to keep you safe. Make sure you would never leave him. You would never waste your quirk on anyone but him. His perfect little nurse. So sweet, so pure, the best...

#yandere x reader #yandere dabi x reader #dabi x you #yandere dabi #yandere #yandere male #male yandere #tw yandere #yandere boy #dabi x reader #x reader #reader insert #dabi x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #dabi x Xylaria #tw kidnapping

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s3thwrit3sstuff · 1 year

Text

❝ Just like that, baby ❞

Touya Todoroki x ftm!reader | AU, Dabi works as a body piercer, probably inaccurate description of getting pierced | nsfw, smut, p**n with some plot | sub. bttm. reader | wc: 4k

warnings: daddy kink, spit fixation (?), fingering, dacryphilia, dirty talk, praise, degradation, squirting, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick though)

masterlist: pt1; pt2; pt3

[ artwork is by @COooGA_ & here's the link to the piece. Please be aware that their content is very dark, do not send them any hate - viewer discretion is advised ]

"Are you shitting me?" Tomura's lips split into a Cheshire smile - his dry lips looking painful enough that it almost made Dabi feel pity. Almost. "You know I never play when it comes to making your life miserable, baby," the pale-haired man sang, cackling as Dabi reached over to swipe the iPad out of his hands. "You're a fuckin' asshole, I got plans tonight!" Dabi's seething made Tomura roll his eyes, turning the screen towards himself as he leans his hip on the counter. "You think I don't know that you're just gonna get your dick wet? The Boy Toy Club again? Really?" those deep magenta-coloured eyes nearly turn into nothing but a speck of red on white as Tomura continues his cackling. Sighing, he runs his hands down his face while he settles on the couch of their parlour's waiting room. Dabi picks at his ripped jeans, inked hands adorned with silver rings curl into fists as his jaw clenches, but Dabi groans as he tosses his head back. "How?" his curt tone makes Tomura damn near giggle. "Toga, she said you dropped the club's condom while taking out your phone." Of course that little fart-face told on him. Dabi couldn't even find himself to be pissed as he runs his hair through his hair, worsening its dishevelled state. "At least I'm not some loser who games his weekends away playing some virgin ass video game and has e-sex -" "Hello?" Both of their heads turn to the door where Dabi's customer stood. You shifted your weight around as they blinked owlishly at the sight of you. "Hey," Dabi gruffs out which earns a cocked brow from yourself. "The fu - I thought I told Spinner to replace the batteries to the sensor" Tomura mutters though he abandons the thought as he comes out of the U-shaped glass counters and motions for Dabi to get off his ass with a glare. You were beginning to doubt your friend's recommendation of this place. They'd been raving and praising the place, as if the Greek Gods had come down themselves to tattoo and pierce mere mortals. The sight before you was anything but...the two men before you were openly sneering at each other as the dark-haired one snatches the iPad from his coworker's hands. "I made an appointment at 9 PM and your Instagram says you're opened until 10 PM...?" The door closes behind you and the cool AC makes you shrug your jacket over your shoulders. The interior of the store was simplistic and with the smell of paint still lingering you figured they must've just upgraded it. The floors were glossy concrete covered with distressed Persian rugs. Like the glass counter, the coffee tables were also glass (the overhead lights exposing every little fingerprint) and framed with steel. It was all cold-looking. Although, the splashes of tattoo designs on the walls along with the Majesty Palm in the corners of the red-bricked walls warm up the space just enough for it to feel inviting. The neon sign above the low couch - where Dabi just lifted himself off - read "Villains Hideout" which bathed the waiting area in the ever-shifting colours of white, blues, purples and pinks. It bathes the moody man in those colours as well. If it weren't for the scowl on his face or the way his jaw clenches you could have admired his tatted-up skin, the way his ruffled-up inky black hair softened his edginess up along with how nice his silver piercings shone and decorated him.

Hah, who were you kidding? The way he clicks his tongue makes heat travel to your groin. Your friends had always shaken their heads at your taste in men. You always liked the ones that looked like they hated everyone in the world though you'd sigh a wistful "except me" that just makes all your friends give concerned glances to each other. So, you drink up his exposed arms and the teasing glimpses of his torso from the opening of the sleeveless, oversized, tee he was wearing. There was some rock band's logo at the front and you tried to see what it was - that was your defence when Dabi had suddenly called out your name...for the third time. "Huh?" Tomura wasn't in the room and your ears warmed as Dabi stared at you expectantly.

"(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N), that's your name, right?" You nod frantically. He briefly eyes you but gestures to the curtain door with his chin. "The last room down the hall, Tomura's setting it up. He's the ass - the guy with the blue hair" he scrolls down the screen and then huffs in amusement. Your eyes meet. Wow, you thought, his eyes are super blue. "A tongue piercing?" his smirk makes you wonder if he's just as mean in bed as his demeanour is. The lopsided grin on your face makes him take in how you were just his type. "Why? That's too hard for you?" an upside-down grin crawls on his face as he exhales through his nose. "Go, I'll be there in a minute", it seemed as though there was something else he'd like to add at the end of that sentence. A purr of a nickname maybe. But Tomura was still in the store and Dabi, although a crude and usually impatient man, felt himself squirming in anticipation as you walked past him. Since your jacket was now snuggly around your shoulders, the cropped length gave Dabi a peek at the expanse of your back. The condoms in his back pocket seemingly warmed up as Dabi chuckled from where he stood, just as eager as he was. Guess he was getting his dick wet after all.

Tomura greets you as he's wiping down the leather seats of the black chair. You return it with a smile, leaning your shoulder against the wall as you take a quick look inside the room. "Small room" your remark makes Tomura snort, shaking his head. "It's Dabi's unofficial spot" "Dabi? That's the guy's name?" Tomura nods, electing to not tell a complete stranger - and customer - that it was his chosen name. Or tell him that Dabi was related to a VERY rich man that he estranged from for reasons unknown (despite their years-long friendship). "He's a little rough around the edges" It almost sounds like a warning to your brain. It must be considering the glance Tomura gives - as if checking your expressions closely. "But he's good at what he does and we're sorta short staffed at night" Toga and Spinner were still apprentices. He couldn't make 'em stay all night here. (Tomura could but he'd rather die than admit he has a soft spot for those weirdos). You wave away his concerns, reassuring him you don't mind. Tomura focuses on wiping the seat down but his eyes linger on the flesh of your hips that were exposed from the backless body suit you were wearing. Paired with a pair of black pants and cropped faux fur lined jacket with a pair of boots - you looked like you weren't heading home after this. He prods. "Tongue piercing's are pretty straightforward, healing is a bit of an ass though" you laugh softly, nodding. "I heard, can't eat much for a week or so, right?" "Yeah, when I got mine I also couldn't stop fuckin' drooling" You laugh with your eyes squinted in amusement. He wants to ask about your plans after, to tell you that despite alcohol being a disinfectant it wasn't a wise choice to be downing shots at a club with a fresh tongue piercing. But he hears your breath hitch and the smell of smoky cologne enters the room. Dabi stands behind you, grinning as he places one hand on the top of the doorway making you feel smaller than him. "Jesus, Tomura, how long does it take ya' to sanitize the room" The man gives him the finger and you glance at Dabi's long legs as he walks in. "I'm only doing this because of you, you ungrateful donkey" The insult catches you off-guard. You hide your chuckles by pretending to cough, clearing your throat after. Eventually, Tomura leaves. He tells Dabi something about closing the store up properly and after a few more insults between them his footsteps fade away to the staff room, then out the hallway and finally out the entrance. By the time that happens, you're already seated and your jacket draped over an empty chair. Dabi's putting on gloves, the expanse of his shoulder and back makes your hungry eyes drink him in. The mirror in front of him makes it easier for you to see his brows slightly furrowed in concentration. But it makes it harder for you to avert your eyes when his electrifyingly blue ones meet you in the reflection. "You look good" You rub at your elbows, smiling coyly as you murmur thanks. He turns, instruments laid out on some sort of cart that he simply pushes with a gentle push of his boots. Then he settles on the round chair and inches closer. Even while seated he seems to tower over you. "Headin' out?" "Nah, just met up with a friend" Dabi's eyes zero in on your collarbones. Your top was one with a halter neck showing off that beautiful saccharine canvas of (S/C) that was littered in red, pink, and purple. "Just a friend?" His tone is playful and your fingers ache from not being able to caress up those toned arms sitting mere inches from you. "...With a few benefits"

Dabi feels himself getting excited. He hands you a paper cup full of mouthwash. "Rinse for 10 seconds then just spit it back in the cup" You do as you're asked and as you begin sloshing around the bright blue liquid your thoughts wonder if those gloves would feel good as they grip your thighs. He's faced away again as he's prepping to mark your tongue. He's pretty sure he should feel ashamed for finding the way your spit connects from the rim of the cup to your lips hot but Dabi has long abandoned shame. "Sloppy little boy, aren't ya?" He watches your face to see any signs of discomfort, ready to back off if you so much as gave him a confused expression. He feels his semi-hard boner twitching as you wet your lips and give him a boyish grin, handing the cup back. "Nobody's ever complained before, they like it sloppy". "Stick your tongue out," You open your mouth, wet muscle glistening under the lights as it covers your lower lip. He dries it with a tissue, smirking as your tongue twitches at the light pressure. "Just like that, baby"

Oh fuck, your thighs are pressing together and you've no control over it. He's got your tongue in his hold, leaning over you as he attempts to find the right placement. You see him furrow his brows again, sharp planes of his face making you gulp. Closer, a feverish voice pleads in your head, get him closer. Dabi eyes your hand as it places itself on his knee. "Nervous?" You shake your head and he quirks a brow as you tug at the hole in his jeans. You motion to your lap, patting it like he was some sort of call girl. He's beginning to like you more and more. The seat creaks with your combined weight but Dabi's on your lap and he's humming as your fingers slide up the back of his thighs and his hips. His crotch is bumping against yours and your eyes goddamn flutter at the very obvious tent. You feel cool metal and Dabi won't admit it but it is easier to do his job from this angle. He adjusts himself on your lap and you reach up his shirt, he pays it no mind and the taste of bland ink blooms on your tongue making you whine in a displeased manner. "Oh can it, you brat" Dabi chuckles, "I know you want something else but bear with it". He lifts your tongue with the clamp, nodding to himself as he ensures he isn't going to pierce through any nerves. He tells you to breathe through it, not to hold your breath and you can see him moving around a bit to grab the needle. The point of the needle makes a tremor go through your hands and Dabi moves his hips making you grip him tighter. He sure knows how to distract someone - "Big breath in" There's pressure, slight but there, "Big breath out". The needle goes through with nothing but a twinge in your brows and a near-bruising grip on his hips. As you peek your eyes up at Dabi through your lashes, he stares right back with a grin full of teeth and eyes glowing in pride. "Good boy, lift your chin up" You can feel drool slip past your lips and down the cork under your tongue. Dabi brings the piercing into view and you flutter your eyes close but he's suddenly tapping your cheek with the back of his hands. "Eyes on me, pretty thing".

He would've wrapped up the process anyways (duh, you're a paying customer) but you were so obedient just following his commands like some sort of lost puppy he felt his hands getting clammy. God, he was going to enjoy wrecking you. He slides the barbell through and fixes it into place. "S'fuckin' pretty" he lets your tongue hang out as he suddenly pulls away from your lap. He walks to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room, tossing his gloves away as he pulls out a can of Asahi beer. You're perplexed but the growing wetness on your underwear makes you content in watching him. He takes a mouthful, places the can down, wears new gloves and settles on your lap again. He's tilting your head, moving you like you're some sort of doll. He leans in and though you're convinced you're the horniest you've ever been in your whole life you hope he isn't going to make out with you. He doesn't, much to your confused-disappointment. Instead, he leans in close enough for your lips to touch only to pour the beer right on your tongue and down your throat. It's a steady flow, it stings like hell but the grip on your chin makes you immobile. So you gulp it down, breathy pants escaping your mouth as you attempt to swallow everything he's giving to you. He's watching every minute detail. The glow of determination in your eyes, the flush cheeks, the sheen of sweat on your temple, the way beer and spit dribble down your chin. He finishes and Dabi leans into your ear. He envies whoever had pierced the beautifully shaped lobes and cartilages, a part of him wanting to mark you with more of his works instead. His teeth on your lobe earn him a squeeze on his ass, and his large hand slithers down to wrap around your throat. "Can't kiss ya' on the lips but I'm sure there's somewhere else you'd rather I kiss, hm?" You nod much to his chagrin. Dabi does a quick once-over on your tongue as he guides it back between your lips but when he makes a move to get his gloves off you whine. Can't really speak much now, your tongue's still tingly and you know it's going to swell soon enough. But as Ursula mentioned, don't underestimate the power of body language (and a few whiny moans). "You want these on?" You nod. "You got a fetish for PVC?" He sounds like he's mocking you so you glare as you wipe the wetness from your chin. He's off you again, laughing at your pout that disappears when your ankles are grabbed and you're sliding down until your legs are hanging off the seat and he's over you. He unbuckles his belt one-fucking-handed. Your cunts practically weeping a waterfall for him. "Show me what I wanna see, baby" he watches your fingers deftly unzip your pants, the adorable shimmy of your hips as you squeeze out of them (he assists but only after snickering like an asshole), then you unzip your bodysuit very appropriate crotch access and finally he sees his prize. "Fuck" your hips cant away as he palms your crotch "You're fucking dripping". The casual way he pushes your underwear to the side makes your heart double in speed, he's staring at your cunt like a starved man. He dips past your folds, sliding up until he reaches your little dick. "Your ‘friend’ must've done a shit job" he said "Your dick's still ready to go" he strokes it, pushing the hood down with those slicked-up gloves and it has you gasping as you arch into his touch. "Your friend should've known better than let a slut like you leave without being thoroughly satisfied or else ya' gonna end up like this, being used like a common whore"

He slips you out of your pants and removes his top. God, he is tatted up. You let your eyes take in as much detail as you can. His hands were inked with all sorts of designs - you figured he started there from how old a few designs looked. But the ones on his neck are deliciously crisp and it was an intricate piece that went all the way down his chest. You wonder what his back looks like. There were swirls of Japanese clouds motif on his shoulder - a sneak peek of the intricate traditional tattoo on his back of red, black and white dragons breathing out blue flames. He snaps you back into reality as he spreads your legs open. "Don't even need to lube you up" he slips two of his slender fingers in and you turn your head to the side, cheek squishing against the leather. His thumb's pressing circles on your dick as he curls and scissors them inside you.

"Holy shit" he guffaws "You got wetter!" He catches your leg before it lands on his chest, brushing it to the side as he curls his fingers again and your choked moan is all he needs to know he's hit that sweet spot. Dabi slips another finger, your used hole takes it with ease as it eagerly clenches around him. "You're practically sucking me in" his cock is straining against his boxers so he grabs at it, squeezing it through the material to relieve it a bit. While there, he reaches back to grab a condom and places it between his teeth. Your eyes are squeezed shut, thighs twitching as he continues the relentless abuse of that spongy bundle of nerves but in a flash, his fingers are gone and you're whimpering at the loss. Your hole clenches around nothing and you're about to throw a goddamn tantrum if Dabi dares deny you of pleasure but find yourself frozen from where you're sat. "Like what you see, pretty boy?"

What you’re seeing is his cock, hard and twitching as the head nearly reaches his goddamn belly button. The tip is a shade of red, precum making it glisten but what’s more, is the ladder of piercings that begin from just above his balls to below his head. There were six piercings all lined up and perfect and you can’t tell if it was your tongue swelling up that was making you drool or your want to have him in his mouth so you can feel them on your tongue.

And what a nice surprise - Dabi’s real hair colour is white unless of course, he bleaches his neat patch of pubic hair which you doubt.

He rolls a condom over it, hissing softly and you can’t help but reach down to spread your lips apart for him. Dabi laughs, a warm hand holding your thigh as the other holds his dick to line it up.

“Thank you, baby. Ya’ know, I would usually take my time with pretty things like you but” your eyes flutter close as his head breaches you.

“If we stay here too long, a blue-haired asshole is gonna check the cameras. Can’t have him seein’ my bitch, he’s all mine and I don’t feel like sharin’” he has a rougher accent that slips when he’s filling you up.

“Ah, mpfh! Fuh...fuckkk...” The heels of your palm dig into your eyes as you feel him practically split you open. A burning sensation makes your toes curl, the stretch of his cock is making your chest heave. The feeling of his piercings has you seeing white faster than you register.

“Shit - did you just come?” he’s not even bottomed out yet but the evidence was the way your walls are spasming around him. He pushes your leg up, shushing as you pant out nonsensically about waiting and how it’s too soon.

“Shut up, you can take it, I know you can”

Tears slip past your eyes and it makes his grin sharp.

“Fuck, you’re even pretty when you cry - makes me wanna be the reason you’re sobbin’” he adjusts his hips and it makes you let out the most pathetic cry he feels his resolve break.

He pulls out nearly all the way and for a second you think he’s giving you mercy but he slams all the way in and the yell you let out has him laughing. A hearty laugh that makes him sound like a goddamn supervillain as he looks down at your teary face.

“Told ya’ you could take it” You clench around him, sniffling as you reach down to feel where you two connect. Your dick twitches.

He fills you up just right. His cock constantly pressed against that spot. You inhale wetly, looking up at him with your eyes all sparkly with tears.

You jerk, your eyes said, you fucking asshole.

“I know but I know you coulda’ and you did” his gloved hand swats yours away and he teases your dick making your mouth fall open, drool following.

“Dumb boy’s like you can take anythin’ you’re given” his words were like a siren's call. Whispering, lulling you into an underwater grave.

“Fuck” the way you tightened around him made him hiss. “Slobbering all over yourself from some dick” you whine again, wiping away the drool but he just snaps his hips in and out of you and you’re crying out again.

You’re laid on the leather, a sheen of sweat coating your skin which makes everything sticky and somewhat uncomfortable but with Dabi’s dick inside you, everything else around you barely exists.

You’re twisting on the seat, head thrown to the side as you moan wantonly - like a goddamn porn star according to Dabi. One of your legs is folded to your chest, the other pinned to the side as Dabi fucks into you. Your hands are braced on his chest, nails scratching and leaving red welts but Dabi takes them with pride.

He wishes he could kiss you, he knows he can’t but you’d have to do a follow-up to replace the piercing. He wants you to come again, just to see him, he’ll hurt you and heal you just like he’s doing right now.

You’re sobbing, you came around him again and he loves the feeling of it. The chair beneath you is downright shaking from how hard he’s pounding into you.

“Duh-Dabi!” you squeal, tongue already numb. The way you mispronounce the pleas for him to go harder makes him so riled up you swore you saw wisps of heat on his skin.

“Your cunt feels so fuckin’ good - Fuck! A perfect cock sleeve made just for this” You’re squirming again and Dabi pulls out making you thrash which he reprimands with a slap to your cunt.

“Please -"

He ignores you, ignores his dick that wants nothing more than to fuck you into oblivion again and instead curls his fingers inside you.

You’re done for - the pressure that his fingers bring makes your hips jerk up and down, twitching and moving uncontrollably. Dabi groans as you squirt all over his wrists, hips jerking as weak spurts follow the big splash.

“Fuckin’ love this hole” he places a kiss on your dick and you’ve half a mind to push him away. Especially when he licks it. But Dabi’s not done yet, your fucked out whispers fall on deaf ears.

“One more time, baby, let me feel you around my cock”

“S’too muh...muhhh”

“Shhh, just stay like that. So fuckin’ pretty for me, so good” his cock is inside you again and you’re crying out, reaching to wrap your arms around his neck.

Dabi grabs your ass and you lose the sticky leather. Now you’re in the air as he fucks up into you, the friction of your bodies rubbing on your swollen cock has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your tongue slips out, going a bit cross-eyed. Not that Dabi could see, your face was tucked right between his shoulder and neck.

The camera’s red light was blinking but you couldn’t give a damn.

Dabi’s bringing you up and down his dick. His piercings stimulate your gummy walls, making your breath hitch every time it slips in and out of you, catching on the rim of your cunt. You babble, right into his ear.

“Daddy! Fuh! Fuck!”

Dabi plants his feet firmly to the ground, his back wet with sweat.

“S’too buh-big! Can’t! Ngh!”

“Yeah, you can. Take what Daddy gives you” he grunts and you’re sure your ass is gonna have the imprint of his hands so you leave scratches on his back.

He gives one last thrust and cums, the condom fills up inside you and you shudder. He hears you trying to catch your breath, sniffling in between every pitiful intake of air that have you hiccuping.

The sharp sensation of the metal can Dabi presses against your neck makes you flinch. You murmur that he's an ass and he just laughs. The both of you are in the waiting room, Dabi laying you there for a comfier seat and letting the AC dry you off while he was cleaning up the room. Now that he was done, he was sipping beer with you. The atmosphere was casual, laughably so considering how he just fucked your brains out 10 minutes ago. You pull out your wallet after you're halfway through but Dabi walks away from you. He gets behind the counter and pulls out his card making your eyes widen. "Don't sweat it, think of it as a thank you" the card machine beeps and you honestly couldn't even stand up without your thighs and back going all weird so you weren't gonna win this anyways. Still, you pout. "That's the first time someone's pissed I pay" his blue eyes dart to his phone that's hidden from your view, ignoring the middle fingers you throw his way and the stuck-out tongue. [ Shiggy: His hole's that good? ] Dabi glances at the camera behind the counter, licking the back of his teeth as he saw the red light. [ Shiggy: Think he can take two of us at the same time? ] [ Dabi: Fuck off, he's my bitch ] Tomura sends a screenshot of your fucked-out face nuzzled into his neck. Dabi's dick twitches to life. [ Shiggy: Just wanna test out his head game, think I can teach him a few tricks using that new piercing ] Tomura grins when Dabi tells him they'd have to wait for it to heal, moaning as he squeezes his cock. He goes back to the replay of the feed, of you getting your first orgasm and throws his head back as he cums into his fists just as you came all over Dabi's cock.

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