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hotwings0203 · 3 years

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I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.

Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?

In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.

But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.

Or so he tells himself.

“Slut”

“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him

“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”

Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.

“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”

It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.

“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”

But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.

He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.

You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.

The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.

You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.

He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.

It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.

But then, he speaks.

“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”

His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.

Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.

“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.

He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.

A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.

You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.

It drives Dabi crazy.

He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.

But your silence is something he’s not used to.

Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.

You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.

You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.

So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.

“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”

Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.

“And Dabi?”

“What about him?”

She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”

“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”

“He likes you.”

You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”

The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.

“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”

You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.

“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”

No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.

You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.

“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”

“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.

“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”

Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”

“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”

And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.

You were fucked.

And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.

“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.

You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.

No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.

He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.

“After you.”

You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.

A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.

Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.

You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.

“Dabi.”

“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”

He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.

You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned

“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“

“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”

In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.

But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.

So he does exactly what one does as a villain.

Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”

You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.

“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”

You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.

“Why?”

“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”

Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.

He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.

So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.

Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.

You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.

He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.

Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

“Dabi, wait, please stop-“

But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.

“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”

He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .

Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.

But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.

You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.

And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .

#dabi imagine #yandere dabi x reader #dabi smut #bnha imagines #bnha smut #mha smut #yandere dabi #tw: noncon #touya #bnha touya #touya todoroki #Dabi #dabi x reader

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potatoes-is-are-food · 3 years

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Demon Shit [part 6]

Warnings: foursome, threesome, blood, dubcon(ish)

word count is ~8600

This isn’t the end for the series but it is the end of the initial adventure before everyone was present!

Tomura demanded to carry you again, slinging you onto his back effortlessly and letting you cling contently to him as you wound through streets yet again, leaving Dabi to carry the bag of supplies. The journey was much shorter this time, though, and it was only a few minutes before he was setting you in front of another creepy back-alley door and shoving you inside. That was where the similarities ended.

This room was much bigger than you’d expected, already lit by candles scattered around on various surfaces. Instead of a chalk circle on the floor there was an altar with chains dangling off it and a knife in the center that had you nervously looking to Dabi. He ruffled your hair and snorted,

“Don’t be stupid, I’m not gonna hurt you or anything,” he pinched your cheek, “It’s not for you, little sacrifice,” he began setting the engraved candles he brought on the floor around the altar. The smell made you grimace and Tomura pinched your side teasingly. He joined the raven-haired demon, scattering most of the red feathers in a pattern along the altar and haphazardly flinging the rest to the floor.

Dabi turned his attention back to you while Tomura lit the candles, an odd scent slowly permeating through the room and making your skin crawl and head spin. You started to lose your balance as you inhaled the smoke, stumbling into his arms and almost drunkenly leaning into him. He removed all the outermost clothing from your pliant little body, cradling you when you slumped against him in only your dress and stockings.

“Feel good?” he chuckled, brushing his fingers against your warm cheeks. You hazily beamed up at him, a floating sensation making your skin tingle and bringing a dopey smile to your face as you nodded. He kissed you and you moaned freely into it, inhibitions growing smaller and smaller by the second. You wrapped your arms around his neck and when he hoisted you into his arms your legs immediately locked around his waist, hands roaming his shoulders and chest more than you’d allowed yourself before, trying to seem polite despite how stupid that seemed in retrospect.

He groaned when you forced your tongue into his mouth for a change, desperation having replaced all traces of shyness as heat started to build in your body. You cradled his face, gently trailing your fingers along his stapled skin as he held you. You felt feverish, close to delirium and unable to hold onto any thoughts other than an incoherent string of “Dabi, fuck, Tomura, fuck, kiss-” his tongue pinched yours between its split, toying with you for a few more moments before he pulled away, steam practically rising from your lips as they parted. You panted, half-lidded and out of focus as he set you down on the altar, the cold metal nearly enough of a shock to your skin to make you regain some sobriety.

Tomura coaxed you gently onto your back, stealing his own small kiss from your lips before linking the cuff on the end of one of the chains around your wrist. He laughed as you whined softly, trying to reach for him and pull him back only to be stopped by Dabi repeating the action to your other wrist. They each cuffed an ankle as well and Tomura held the knife out over your body, taking Dabi’s wrist in his free one.

The second the knife touched his disfigured skin, every candle aside from the ones carved in runes on the floor went out. You couldn’t see much at all with all the smoke clouding your vision and almost no light. You could hear the slice and feel Dabi’s blood hitting your abdomen, a drop and then a light splash, hot liquid instantly seeping through your dress and nearly burning your skin. You whimpered, feeling several more drops trail up your chest before registering the sound of the knife being passed and another sickening slice.

Blood seeped through your dress all the way from your shoulders down to the tops of your thighs. You heard wet, sloppy drinking sounds and what seemed to be an equally messy kiss before a pair of rough lips sealed over yours, tongue parting your lips and forcing the unexpectedly sweet liquid down your throat. You choked, not expecting the volume that flooded your mouth, swallowing as much as you could but still feeling some dribble down the sides of your face. You gasped as he pulled away and it happened again, Dabi’s lips this time forcing demonic blood into your mouth.

Then they were gone, the last of the light from the candles snuffed out in their absence and a chill biting into your skin. You shivered, instinctively trying to pull your arms back to your body but being unable to, shackles clanking against the increasingly cold metal of the altar. You struggled despite knowing it was in vain, mind still a mess from whatever that smoke was. Your eyes strained in the dark, feeling a presence but unable to perceive it any tangible way. Your breaths came out in panicked bursts, chest heaving slightly as adrenaline pumped into your veins. Then you felt the breath blowing back on you. Directly from above your face.

“Boo,” he whispered. You screamed, kicking weakly and struggling against the heavy chains anchoring you down. The druggy haze made your body feel heavy and your meager movements took enough effort to leave you exhausted after just a few seconds.

“Dabi!” you cried, although it sounded much more like a moan than you’d meant, as the figure above lowered his face to your neck before stopping abruptly. The lack of movement stilled you, tears rolling down your face as you hyperventilated and sobbed quietly. A long silence passed and then you got to properly hear his voice,

“Dabi?” His voice sounded lighter, somehow sweeter than the ones you’d become used to. You didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, when light blinded you as all the candles reignited, making you clench your eyes shut for a brief moment until they settled back into a dim glow. The being hovering over your shaking body was unlike anything you’d ever seen. Ethereally beautiful; his golden eyes pierced into yours. Every angle of his face was sharp, as though he’d been carved from a precious stone into the form of perfection. In a strange way you couldn’t place, he reminded you slightly of Dabi.

He terrified you a little. More than Tomura had at first. A hand came from behind, gripping his blonde locks and jerking him back and off of you. You noticed the rest of him was perfect, too, but his wings were what made you stare. They were brighter than the feathers Tomura had scattered around, shimmering variants of red visible even in the low light. He swiftly ripped two of them out, holding them like swords as they stiffened in his hands. Tomura had pulled him off you, baring his sharp teeth at the winged demon, who seemed to calm at the sight of him.

Dabi was suddenly beside you, releasing you from your chains. You sat up, immediately flocking to his arms and cowering in his chest. He trailed a thumb along your cheek bone, collecting the lingering wetness on your skin and licking it off. Despite fear flooding your veins you sill found yourself resisting the urge to stroke his skin under his shirt. Tomura came to your other side, pulling you from Dabi as he started slowly towards the blonde.

“Kei…” he started, holding up his hands in an attempt to seem nonthreatening. Tomura pulled you to sit in his lap, head resting against his shoulder as he pet up and down your back. You shifted slightly, nervously watching the exchange. You shivered, burrowing closer into the white-haired demon whose touch also seemed to set your skin on fire. You nearly purred when his hand came up to stroke your hair. If the whole situation didn’t have you so scared you’d have been pawing to get his clothes off.

“You… fucking… asshole,” Keigo spat, fury tainting his perfect face.

“Fuck, man, get over it already,” Dabi sighed, “it was forever ago! I said I was sorry!” Keigo lunged, knocking him on his back and hovering dangerously close to his face.

“He was mine!” he shouted, rearing back and punching him in the face. You gasped, lurching forward only to be held back by Tomura. He hit him again. And again.

“Please stop!” you screeched, managing to get one hand free and frantically reaching. Keigo looked up at you and in the second he was distracted Dabi got loose enough to kick him, sending him into the wall and making him cough from the impact to his chest. Their fighting was oddly...sexual? There was certainly a lot of tension in it that wasn’t just fueled by anger, but you wondered if the smoke was making you imagine it.

“It’s fine, doll,” he gave you a wink, making another obvious swing Keigo easily stopped. He grabbed his arm, twisting it behind Dabi’s back and using his other hand to pull his head back by his black hair. His lips ghosted the seam held together by his staples as he muttered something you couldn’t hear. He gripped his hair harder, pulling his head back further while Dabi’s free hand made its way to one of Kei’s wings. You expected him to set it on fire or something, but instead he gave it a tug.

The moan that slipped past Keigo’s lips was divine, sending a throb directly through your core. Your eyes went wide as you watched them struggle, still hurting each other as they wrestled to the ground. You looked to Tomura who just shrugged and made you stand so he could untie his shoe and pull it off.

He grumbled to himself for a moment while he worked the laces before throwing it at the two writhing on the floor. It hit Keigo in the back of the head and he glared up at Tomura before seeming to remember you were there. He swatted once more at Dabi and shuffled to his feet, approaching you as though he was trying not to seem too eager. He took his time eyeing you up and down, taking in the blood on your dress, dried tears on your face, and lack of shoes.

“I thought you said you were gonna take care of your next sacrifice,” he scoffed, “What the hell is this?” He turned to give Dabi a snide look, only to be smacked again with the same shoe from the opposite direction. His feathers bristled and he shot one at him, lodging it in the side of his face and smirking as he pulled it out with a grimace.

Keigo stooped to your level and let his eyes roam your face. Your brows furrowed and you started to sink back towards Tomura, but he stopped you with a firm hand on your back, forcing you to stay up for inspection while he took his shoe back. Kei reached up and trailed his fingers along your cheek, eyes intensely focused on yours. You trembled, feeling small and cold and messy after his comment. You could also feel warm wetness seeping through your panties from the effects of the smoke and would rather die than have him see it drip down past the hem of your dress. If he could tell, he pretended not to.

“So you’re actually gonna share for once, huh?” His golden eyes locked onto Dabi behind you. You assumed he must’ve nodded, because Kei set them back on you again, “Don’t think this makes up for what you did,” he leaned closer, prompting you to unconsciously do the same. His lips were soft when he finally closed the distance, almost unsettling after how used to rough textures you’d gotten. He kissed you like you were made of glass, gently wrapping his hand around the back of your neck to draw you closer as his tongue breached your lips. That too was weirdly normal with no added length or split down the center.

You kissed him back stiffly, wringing your hands nervously despite every cell in your body screaming at you to throw yourself at him. Dabi hadn’t encouraged this like he did when you met Tomura and it felt weird. Not that you could deny it felt good too, though. The sensation made you shake and feel as though you might collapse. When he pulled away he sighed,

“Relax, baby, I don’t bite,” he trailed kisses along your jaw, gripping your neck loosely with his thumb over your artery, “...too hard,” he muttered, nipping one of the many hickeys littering your neck. It hurt less than when the other two did it since he lacked fangs or an entire mouth full of pointed teeth, but you yelped nonetheless, reaching a hand back to Tomura. He pulled you out of Keigo’s hold and into his lap when you stumbled and fell back. You were at least grateful the fabric of your dress could soak up some of the copious amounts of fluid threatening to drip onto the floor.

“Ease up, pretty boy,” he grumbled, stroking your arm. The contact made you nearly moan, but you stifled it. Tomura scoffed at Kei, “Since when am I the responsible one?”

“Do you not remember your first interaction with her?” Dabi snickered. You turned to look at him, feeling more secure the second he glanced at you. He’d been wiping the blood and feathers up, shoving everything back into the bag he’d carried it in before and flinging it to the side when he was satisfied. Then he came to you, stroking his thumb along your cheek as he looked you over before tilting your face back towards his friend. The gentle yet authoritative action only worsened the growing problem between your legs and it was all you could do to stifle another whine threatening to fall from your lips.

“C’mon, Keigo, look at her,” he cooed, “Isn’t she pretty?” Your eyes flicked back to Kei, watching him appraise you again as he grumbled. You could feel the lust hazing across your eyes as you gazed at him more openly than you’d intended, making his expression soften.

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“Pretty enough to stop being mad at me?” he teased, showing off how eagerly you responded to the lightest of his touches, “Sorry about your boy toy but I promise you’ll love her even more.”

You squirmed a bit, discomfort growing by the second. He sighed,

“I’m still fucking mad at you,” he sneered unconvincingly, expression softening further as he helped you to your feet again. Dabi handed him Tomura’s long jacket and he put it on you, closing up the entire front to cover the mess made of your dress. It drew your attention to the fact that he was naked. You’d been scared before, much too confused, and it was still pretty dim so you hadn’t really looked. With only candles lighting the room the light flickered against every rigid curve of muscle. You forced yourself to keep your eyes up, only stealing a glance when he turned to grab your shoes.

You weren’t surprised it was big. You nearly sighed, thinking how good and warm it would feel if you reached out and touched it. How heavy it would be and how much your body would ache when he was done with you. When they were done with you. A small shudder ran through your body as Dabi offered his hands to you. You held them for balance as Keigo slid your shoes onto your feet.

“I saw that, dove,” he smirked, pinching your thigh as he stood up, “You got my clothes?” he asked Dabi. Tomura threw a pair of pants at his head,

“Hurry up,” he grumbled.

While Keigo got dressed Dabi fixed your hair and wiped off any remaining blood from your face, making you presentable enough to go back through to the portal home. Whether it was part of his powers or not, he certainly had a knack for knowing exactly how you felt at any given moment, reassuring kisses being placed to your cheeks just how you needed it. You leaned into his touch, focus still evading you as you tried to hide your desperation.

“Be sweet to Kei for me, yeah?” You nodded, both of you knowing you’d give into any request he gave you if he kept stroking your head and letting you cling to him.

You didn’t watch Keigo get dressed, opting to turn back when he at least had pants on. It was weirder with him, he wasn’t as ...unhinged as Tomura or as familiar as Dabi. He struggled getting on his shirt, groaning as he tried to stuff his wings through the slits in the back and awkwardly thanking Tomura when he halfheartedly helped out.

Dabi stuck Kei’s jacket in your hands and nudged you forward to where he sat, lacing his boots. You stumbled slightly, nearly bumping into him and then trying not to stare as you handed it to him. He ruffled your hair and thanked you, practically beaming when you offered back a small smile and “you’re welcome.” When he was finished struggling to get that on too he slung an arm over your shoulders, the touch enough to make you squirm as your panties finally became unable to contain your arousal. You pressed your thighs together as you took notice of Keigo’s hand closest to your face. For a second you couldn’t place what seemed strange about it.

“This doesn’t make up for what you did but damn she’s cute,” he pinched your cheek, smiling at your flustered face. That wasn’t really what concerned you, though.

“You don’t have sharp nails,” you noted, peering at his hands. He grimaced,

“Er, yeah, I wasn’t born a demon or human,” he ran his fingers through his hair, “I was an angel before I met Dabi,” he chuckled.

“Tomura’s the bad influence here,” Dabi shot back, “Don’t try to blame me,” he laughed along. Tomura just shrugged,

“Not my fault you two make terrible choices.”

You looked between the three of them before Dabi elaborated,

“I was originally human but Tomura was always...like that,” he smirked, poking his side. Tomura gave a half-smile back. Their friendship fascinated you. It was kind of nice to see them interact like this, you thought as you rested your head lightly against Keigo. You were eager for more contact with the three of them, struggling to keep it together as tears began to well in your eyes. Your blood seemed to burn in your veins from how badly you needed to be touched.

You had questions, but it was hard to hold onto thoughts about anything other than getting home and to bed. Dabi gathered up the bags on the floor and started ushering Tomura towards the door, Kei putting a hand on your back to prompt you to do the same. When you got back outside it was dark, thunder rolling in the distance and rain softly falling onto the pavement. You didn’t see which, but one of your demons flipped your coat hood up for you.

The rain quickly soaked you to the bone as you walked, clothes sticking to you and the others as you held Kei’s hand tightly, trying to control your shaking. Eventually your knees gave out, buckling as your cunt throbbed almost painfully. Keigo tried to catch you, pulling you up by the hand he was holding so you didn’t fall too hard on your knees. You could still feel them scrape on the pavement, though, the small amount of pain an almost welcome distraction from the sensation between your legs. It was so intense and unbearable you couldn’t contain the tears anymore.

You sobbed as he lifted you back onto your feet, but crumbled again, unable to support yourself as tears spilled down your face. He looked shocked as he lifted you into his arms, looking you over for injury. Your knees were slightly discolored and your stockings had ripped but it wasn’t anything someone would normally be so upset over. You cried into his neck, clinging to him as your chest heaved. Dabi’s warm hand ran down your back,

“The smoke doesn’t usually make it this bad,” he mused, encouraging you as you sank further into Keigo’s neck. They picked up the pace but you kept your face buried against his skin until you felt the rush of snow from your pocket surround you. The walk up to the house was brief and you were placed on one of the downstairs beds almost as soon as you entered.

“I wouldn’t have spent so much time trying to hurt your dumb ass if you’d told me you used bone candles for the ritual,” Keigo said through gritted teeth, kicking his shoes off and shaking out his wet hair. Tomura wrung his out, letting the water fall onto the floor and earning him a glare from Dabi. The black-haired demon looked you over, wiping tears from your cheeks before kneeling and removing your shoes. When he stood he inspected the damage to your skint knees, ignoring your pouting until you reached out to grab him.

“Have you ever summoned a former angel? Shit’s more work,” he shot back, giving you his full attention after.

Your fingers gripped his shoulders tightly, pulling him closer until he got the hint and kissed you, allowing you to practically suck his tongue as he started stripping you, pulling Tomura’s wet coat off your trembling form. You lapped along the insides of his mouth, the sweet flavor of demonic blood still vaguely present. He halfheartedly chuckled against you as he pulled away, immediately being replaced by Keigo so he could undress himself.

When you reached out to touch Kei’s unblemished skin you found it bare again, his shoulders and neck pleasantly warm as you glided your fingertips across them. His hair was silky when you threaded your fingers through it and you sighed against his lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. He cradled your face in his hands, brushing his thumbs against your cheekbones before trailing lower and wrapping loosely around your throat and squeezing gently.

You gasped at the restriction to your arteries, moaning softly into his mouth as you felt arms wrap around you from behind. White hair spilled over your chest, still slightly damp as Tomura worked the back of your dress open, nipping and kissing along your shoulders as he worked the fabric down. You pulled back one of your hands from Kei to hold his hand, rough texture and claws calming you down as the former angel rattled your nerves.

Tomura and Keigo lifted you together as he slid your dress down your legs, letting it drop to the floor. You shivered as the air contacted your bare skin, the slight draft in the house adding to how real the pocket felt and making you wonder if that was something that had to be added. Your nipples pebbled and you felt sharp teeth ghost against one, followed by Tomura’s mouth latching on and suckling. You whined into Kei’s mouth, stroking his and Tomura’s hair as he finally broke the kiss, panting softly against you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, trailing his fingers along your jaw, “Yeah, she’s pretty sweet,” he gave Dabi a smug grin before winding his fingers into his black hair and pulling him in, kissing him an inch from your face and nudging you forward into his disfigured neck. You obliged, sucking and kissing at his skin while they made out, Tomura still toying with your breasts.

Dabi slipped a hand under the side of your panties, ripping the fabric and doing the same to the other side so they fell off, leaving you in torn stockings and drugged-away bashfulness. You continued to kiss his neck, trailing your lips lower until you passed his staples and latched onto some of his normal skin, sucking until you were certain you’d left a mark.

He groaned into Keigo’s mouth and the two parted, strings of saliva connecting them before he wiped them away, setting his sights on you again. Tomura pulled away with a parting kiss to your chest and suddenly you could feel your face heating up as three pairs of demonic eyes stared you down. You felt like fresh meat lain before a pack of starving wolves. And then they pounced.

Tomura sank his teeth into your neck, just painful enough to make you cry out as Keigo swallowed it, kissing you deeper than before and exploring your mouth with his tongue without any regard to your need for breath. Dabi pushed everyone back so you were lying down and he could dive between your legs, teasing you with his unnaturally hot breath and making you squirm under Keigo. You writhed, already overwhelmed before they’d even really started.

Your body was already so riddled with splotchy bruises and bite marks, but that didn’t stop Tomura from adding to them anyway, sharp teeth drawing blood out of your still-fresh wounds. You whined into Keigo’s mouth and he pulled away, dragging his tongue along your skin from the corner of your lips to your jaw, planting wet kisses and bites on your neck. His lips eventually met Tomura’s and the two shared their own sloppy kiss just above your skin.

Dabi finally closed the distance to your twitching pussy, continuing to torture you with feather- light flicks of his tongue to your swollen clit. You groaned, reaching for his hair to pull him closer but being blocked by his hand catching yours and pinning it to your side. He finally obliged you, slipping his long, hot muscle into your drenched cavern and lapping at your insides greedily. His lips unevenly kneaded at the rest of your folds as he stroked along your thigh. You bucked against his face, whimpering just as Tomura released Keigo and your mouth was smothered once more with his.

He defaulted to his preferred method of kissing and shoved his long tongue down your throat until you sputtered, gagging slightly but reciprocating nonetheless. Your free hand came up to tangle in his pale hair, sharp teeth just grazing your tongue as you held him close. Keigo moved his lips along your ribs, kissing and biting indiscriminately as his hand trailed downwards. Two of his fingers found your clit, rolling the swollen bud as Dabi fucked you with his tongue, filling you enough to feel nice but not be what you needed.

You moaned as Tomura pulled his tongue from your mouth, air finally filling your lungs. You pulled him closer when he tried to lean back, planting several soft kisses along the corner of his mouth and cheek. He smiled but broke from your grip and moved behind you, letting your head rest against his chest. With the new angle you could see Dabi’s face between your thighs, his warm hands curled around the limbs and resting softly against your skin.

His eyes were closed, his focus entirely on working his tongue against your g-spot. He looked up and gave you a wink just before Keigo straddled you and blocked him from view. When he moved back Dabi took the hint and parted from your heat with a few light kisses to your thighs, allowing Kei to slip back. The blonde settled his hips between your legs, letting his heavy cock rest on your stomach to see how far it’d reach.

You squirmed slightly, holding onto Tomura’s arms as they wrapped around your shoulders and crossed your chest. Dabi slid his hands up along Keigo’s sides, murmuring something into his ear you couldn’t hear. The sight of them together made heat rise to your cheeks, and you wished they’d go further. They didn’t, though, instead Dabi pressed a lingering kiss to the side of his neck and joined Tomura behind you.

Keigo lined himself up, stroking along your folds with the head of his cock before pressing inside tortuously slow. Your mouth fell open as he stretched you open, gritting his teeth just as his tip bumped against your cervix. Your head fell back against Tomura’s chest as you groaned, eyes clenched shut and writhing a bit trying to get him to move.

When the initial shock wore off and he continued to lie still inside you, you looked up to see him smirking down at you. His gaze made you clutch Tomura’s arms tighter.

“What’s wrong, sacrifice? You look flustered,” he teased. He leaned forward, hovering over your trembling body until his face was centimeters from yours, “If you want something, you can ask for it.” You stared up at him with wide eyes, feeling a few tears gathering in them. You wondered if he could tell, but as his shit-eating grin widened you knew.

“Please,” you said softly, voice trembling. He intimidated you, his beauty and the lack of more demonic traits made him feel too familiar. He quirked an eyebrow as though he didn’t understand what you meant. You sighed in defeat, shifting under him in discomfort, “Please move.”

He gave you a single, leisurely thrust; pulling out nearly all the way and slowly filling you again. Then he stopped again,

“Please what?” he taunted, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips. You hesitated, unsure if he wanted you to use his name or tell him exactly what you wanted.

“Please fuck me, Keigo,” you whispered, looking up into his golden eyes. You finally released the death grip you’d had on Tomura, timidly reaching forward to ghost your fingers along his cheek. His taunting expression softened, and he kissed you properly, soft lips gently pressing against yours as he gave you several shallow thrusts.

His hands roamed your form, squeezing at your hips and stroking along your stomach. You moaned softly into his mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair. You heard a scoff from behind,

“You can do it for real, she’s not gonna break,” Tomura said boredly. Keigo pulled away, cupping your face and looking more angelic than ever.

“That’s a shame,” Kei smirked again, trailing his thumb along your cheek. He kissed you again, softly cupping your face as he increased his pace, working you both up steadily. Two of his fingers encircled your clit, making you gasp against him. He took advantage, slipping his tongue between your lips.

Tomura fidgeted behind you and you felt his cock press into your back, twitching as you assumed he jerked it. He pulled you further up his body, lying back so you could rest on top of him. Your head fell back against his shoulder as Kei broke the kiss, leaning back to hold up one of your ankles as he pounded you harder. Moans fell from your mouth as you clenched around him, both of you throbbing and twitching as you got closer and closer to your ends.

His moans were so pretty, like his face and wings and the look on his face as he papped his hips against yours. The blush dusting his cheeks got more intense as he went, building speed. He got rougher with your clit, giving it a couple of light smacks as he lost himself in pleasure. You jolted at the hit, yelping and throbbing around him.

When he spilled inside you he forced himself as deep as possible, pinching your clit just hard enough to both be painful and make you climax. You spasmed, crying out as you fell limply against Tomura. The demon under you wound his arms around your waist and pressed his lips into one side of your neck while Kei bit the other. The blonde broke your skin with his teeth, making you cry out and cling to him as he marked you. You whined as Kei slipped himself out, leaning up and admiring the sight of his cum dribbling down to your ass.

Tomura lined himself up from underneath you, smearing himself in yours and Kei’s cum and spearing you unceremoniously fast. You gasped, feeling his massive girth stretching your walls. He only thrusted a few times before pulling back out and lining himself up with your ass, the immense amounts of fluid spread over his cock making it slippery against your puckered hole.

Your eyes widened and you squirmed, panicking slightly, “Tomura, wait-” He shushed you, cooing softly into your ear as he started to press against your tight back entrance. Dabi held your hand, letting you squeeze it as he pressed several light kisses along your face and lips to hush any protests. Keigo watched intently, already filling back out at the sight. You whimpered against Dabi as he started to press in.

You choked, feeling like you couldn’t breathe as his gigantic head penetrated your tight ring of muscle. Tears spilled down your cheeks as he continued, slowly working more of himself in with surprising care. He stroked along your sides and cheeks, swiping away your tears and trying to get you to relax.

“Stop clenching,” he said through gritted teeth, trying to restrain himself, “I’m not even half way in yet.” You tried to do as he said, relaxing as his hand snaked between your legs to paw at your throbbing, leaking cunt. More of the lubrication dripped down, helping keep Tomura wet enough to continue.

He thrusted shallowly, getting more and more in with each cant of his hips. When he finally bottomed out you were out of breath, leaned back into his shoulder and panting. He groaned, unable to stop himself from moving as he bit your neck. You could tell he was holding back, but he was really bad at it, his whole body twitching with pleasure as he gently thrusted.

A soft sob left your lips and Dabi hushed you with his lips again, softly kissing you as a distraction.

“Damn,” Keigo breathed, still engrossed in the show. Your face burned at the realization he’d closely watched the whole thing. It seemed to spur Tomura on and he got rougher, holding your hips and bucking up into you. You groaned, letting your head fall back away from Dabi who snickered slightly and gave your cheek a peck.

He whispered with Kei some things you couldn’t make out over your gasps and sobs or Tomura’s grunting in your ear and the two started positioning themselves between your legs. Tomura held your thighs apart as they worked out how to approach you from that angle. They bickered for a moment and settled on Kei up top and Dabi behind him, the former giving himself a few strokes before plunging back inside your pussy.

You caught on, whimpering but unable to form a coherent sentence with Tomura ravaging your ass. Dabi pressed himself against Keigo’s base, easing himself into your already stuffed hole until he passed the tight entrance, drawing a scream from you. The stretch hurt, even more intense than when Tomura and Dabi took you together last time. Your eyes rolled back into your head and your scream ended in a choked whimper before you went silent aside from gasps and occasional broken moans of their names.

They didn’t move in any kind of rhythm with each other, each choosing their own pace at which to destroy you. Tomura continued kissing along your neck and whispering mostly creepy but occasionally sweet praises into your skin as he reached to toy with your clit some more. Kei groaned and pulled Dabi into a kiss, one hand stroking your hip and thigh and the other gripping Tomura’s. Dabi’s hands were occupied with stroking Keigo’s chest and your leg respectively; you weren’t sure when you’d let go of it. You gripped at whatever you could, out of focus and barely recognizing that the strangled groaning and choking sounds were coming from you.

Tears streamed down your face an unknown amount of time before you noticed them, only realizing when Tomura licked them up and said you were pretty when you cried. The pleasure was just as white-hot, if not more, than the pain. It drove thought from your mind just as the initial wave of that smoke had. You could swear the room was spinning when Kei leaned down and kissed you, moreso playing with your tongue than actually kissing due to how out of it you were.

Dabi directed Tomura’s fingers around your clit, knowing exactly what to do to send you into an intense orgasm. You clenched around the three of them, a slightly painful feeling for all of you as your muscles contracted. Keigo hissed and Dabi and Tomura groaned, the latter biting into your shoulder to muffle it.

Tomura finished first, angling his hips up to ejaculate inside as deeply as possible. He fell limp under you after, his whole body twitching now and again and drool seeping from the corner of his mouth. He kept his arms loosely around you, occasionally gasping as he felt the others moving inside you and overstimulating him. He must not have cared, since he didn’t bother to move, choosing to stay buried in your walls.

Dabi was next, but the overwhelming heat of his semen made Kei finish too, both their cum mixing and filling your cunt until it overflowed, joining Tomura’s in the puddle beneath him. He shivered at the contact, but otherwise stayed still, still attempting to plug your ass. One of them – you weren’t sure which anymore – rolled your clit past your first orgasm and into the next, making you convulse.

Kei shuddered as his high ended, slumping forward and lying his head on top of your heaving chest. Dabi pulled out from behind him, leaving Kei’s dick to lie in the mess they’d made. He crawled up, hovering over the blonde so he didn’t crush his wings or your body any further, and kissed you. He brushed a few lingering tears from your cheeks.

“You did well, little sacrifice,” he said, his breath already level. You continued to pant, holding his hand to your face. “Think you can handle a little more?” he kissed your forehead, grinning wickedly when you gave him the tiniest of nods.

Kei rolled off you, his still semi-hard length slipping out and making you whimper. He sat up and fluffed his wings out, letting them stretch before he stood up, dragging Dabi up and forcing him on top of you. You both looked at him and his eyes narrowed as he leaned in, whispering to Dabi despite how you and Tomura could both hear,

“I told you earlier,” he growled, “I was gonna fuck your sacrifice and then fuck you.”

Dabi gave him a look you couldn’t see as Kei stood, positioning himself behind and kicking your legs further apart. He gripped Dabi’s hip, reaching around to line him up with your entrance and forcing him inside. You both groaned and then Dabi’s eyes widened and rolled back and you heard him make a noise you wouldn’t previously have thought he was capable of.

Tomura wriggled underneath you, pulling himself out of your stretched hole and crawling out from under you. He kissed your cheek and got out of bed, fluffing out his hair as he went for the door. He muttered something about watching “Staples” get wrecked and you turned your attention back to Dabi, watching his expression.

His face twisted as Keigo started thrusting, rolling his hips roughly against his ass and forcing him in and out of your abused cunt. The blonde easily kept his composure, occasionally landing a slap to Dabi’s ass or your hip with a cocky expression. Dabi, on the other hand, looked how you felt as he got pushed around for a change. His eyes glossed over and his forked tongue flopped out of his mouth, cheeks pink as he drooled for it. He’d never looked so pretty.

You licked his saliva from his face and took his tongue in your mouth, making him groan as Keigo forced him in and out of you. The two of you moaned against each other, one of his hands gripping the sheet and the other bruising your thigh. He moved his grip to your shoulders and then your neck, trying to regain some form of control.

Your moans came out as hoarse cries and pants, almost no sound coming out anymore as he bumped against your sore cervix with every press of Keigo’s hips. He came faster than before, flooding your already filled pussy until his fluids gushed out around his base. Kei didn’t stop, though, pounding Dabi’s ass until he got hard inside you again and he collapsed on top of you. His face rested in the crook of your neck as he panted and groaned, releasing your neck in favor of clinging to you.

You came again next, the friction from his pubic hair on your clit sending you over the edge. You openly sobbed at the overstimulation that followed, reciprocating Dabi’s hold as he shuddered and pumped another load into you. As you felt it taper off he was shoved forward onto you harder, Kei’s wings bristling as he finished.

With no regard for you already being crushed under Dabi’s weight he fell forward, sandwiching the black-haired demon and pressing your sweaty, barely conscious form deeper into the mattress. You groaned, but almost no sound came out. Dabi continued to pant into your neck for a time until his breathing slowed, but he stayed still. He relaxed his grip on your shoulders, finally letting his entire body relax on top of you. You felt him go soft inside, more cum flowing out without his full size to block it.

Keigo pressed several light kisses along his back, paying special attention to where his staples separated the distinct separate colors of his skin. He fluttered his lips against yours softly and then withdrew, leaning back and standing to admire the view. Dabi stayed still, and you stroked along his shoulders gently while you waited on him to let you up.

“Too much for you, Dabs?” he teased, ruffling his hair. Dabi groaned softly, his words muffled by your skin and the blankets. He seemed to curl in on himself as you petted him, almost like he didn’t want you to touch him. Kei gave his thigh another light smack and said he was gonna clean up, heading off to look for a bathroom and leaving you alone with Dabi.

You squirmed slightly after a while, starting to feel sticky and needing to pee. He kept you pressed down, buried in your neck. You gently nudged him, kissing the side of his head and trying to coax him up. He groaned again and finally relented, sitting up and immediately turning away from you. Your eyes immediately went wide as you reached for him, convinced you’d done something wrong.

“Dabi?” you softly called, voice barely above a whisper. He winced when you said his name. “What’s wrong?”

He looked at you over his shoulder so you couldn’t fully see his face. His eyes looked a little red.

“I didn’t really want to do that in front of you,” he turned away, “or inside you,” he trailed off slightly. You leaned up, trying to ignore the pain that shot through several joints and various other places on your body. You reached out and took his hand.

“I-I liked it,” you muttered, averting your eyes as blood rushed into your face. He looked at you, and his eyes seemed brighter than before. “I like seeing you with Tomura,” you admitted, “and Kei.”

He cupped your face, his usual serene expression present on his face now. You shifted slightly, both physically uncomfortable and waiting on him to say something.

“What a sweet little sacrifice you are,” he cooed, stooping down to your level and pressing his lips to your sweaty forehead. He tilted your chin up and you looked at him. “Guess we’re both a little dumb for demon dick, huh?” He laughed, and you joined him, still smiling when he kissed your lips.

You threw your arms around his neck, opening your mouth when his tongue prodded at your lips. His warm hands caressed your back, trailing down to briefly squeeze your ass and then support under your thighs. You rested against him as he carried you, a hand over your weeping holes to stop you dripping on the floor. You hid your face in his neck, heat rising into your cheeks.

“Hm, maybe we could get you some plugs to keep it in,” he mused, chuckling when you gripped him tighter in embarrassment.

He set you down in the bathroom and let you go take care of your bladder while he got the bath running and set the shower temperature. You felt so weird pissing in front of him since you were pretty sure he didn’t even do that himself, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention to you. You finished up and he sat you on a stool in front of the shower head, detaching it and rinsing out your hair and all the cum off your skin.

“You’re getting used to it,” he said, tending to your hair, “Interacting with demons and moving through pockets and such. You didn’t pass out this time,” he noted. You winced, remembering how brutal it had been with Tomura the first time.

He shut the water off, kneeling in front of you and looking you over for injuries. Tomura’s teeth marks were the worst since all his were sharp. The wounds from that and the countless bruises and hickeys the three of them had left littered your skin, splotches of irritated skin all over your body. None of it needed any specific attention, though, and Dabi just sighed and helped you into the tub.

He sat down behind you, coaxing you into his arms and stroking you as you snuggled into his chest. You intertwined your fingers with his and raised his hand to your lips, kissing the back of his hand and the staples along his wrist. He hummed softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You like the routine, doll?” he asked, resting his cheek against your head. You nodded, sighing contentedly. It wasn’t long like that before the door cracked open and two pairs of eyes peered in at you.

“Got room for two more?” Kei asked, pushing the door open and entering without bothering to wait for a response. You reflexively brought your knees up to your chest, blood rushing into your cheeks despite the fact everyone was still naked. You noticed his wings were much smaller as he climbed into the thankfully large tub, facing you as Tomura entered without a word behind him.

“Someone’s shy,” he teased, giving your leg a poke, “You know I saw everything earlier, right?” You curled up tighter, only relaxing slightly when Dabi leaned up and put his arms around you.

“This is the usual when she’s not tripping on those candles,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“Cute,” Kei pinched your cheek. He leaned back against Tomura, making him grimace but embrace him nonetheless, “You’re pretty lucky, man, aside from the whole skin thing.”

They chatted for a while and you relaxed, leaning back into Dabi and resting for a bit. You woke up, not realizing you’d fallen asleep, just as they were getting out. Kei wrapped a towel around you and kissed your forehead.

“Why are your wings smaller now?” you asked, letting him dry you.

“Oh, I used some feathers to get rid of those sheets and then left them lying on one of the couches,” he shrugged. He summoned them back as a demonstration, his wings filling back out as he let a few stray feathers fly around. You watched with wide eyes and he chuckled, pulling you into his chest and squeezing. You wrapped your arms around him in return, fingers just barely brushing where his wings attached to his back.

He tensed up, pulling away and petting you, “They’re kinda sensitive,” he smiled, “Probably not a great idea to touch while you’re sore.” You nodded, slightly embarrassed. He seemed unfazed quickly, though, excitedly asking Dabi about what you guys had been doing so far. The last of the tension between them dissolved when he explained they’d been trying to summon him for days, making preparations and such.

You watched them kiss, a small, content smile on your lips as Tomura took your hand, muttering how he still wanted to explore the pocket with you. You rested your head against him and nodded. Dabi and Kei separated, the four of you heading out to get dressed.

You sat on the edge of a bed in a different room while Keigo and Tomura rifled through your clothes. Dabi dressed himself and started fixing your hair, watching with amusement as they argued over whether or not to give you panties.

“There’s no point, one of us will just take them off,” Kei reasoned, eyeing over the white lacy number Tomura was clutching.

“But it’s fun to make her take them off,” Tomura pursed his lips, glaring at him.

You pulled Dabi closer and he leaned in, offering his ear if you wanted to whisper. You took the invitation, cupping your hands and quietly asking,

“I thought Keigo would be angrier?” He pulled away with a snort, stroking your head reassuringly.

“He was, but he’s really just a soft bird that likes the sound of his own voice too much,” he smirked as Kei flipped him off, “Little sacrifice likes panties.”

Tomura grinned, setting the ones he’d picked aside as Kei groaned. You giggled at the exchange and Dabi gave your head a pat to signal he was done. You leaned forward to watch them select your clothes. Occasionally they’d give you options when they disagreed and you’d get to choose, but it was all so similar it didn’t make much difference.

They got up and got dressed, sneaking glances at you as Dabi pulled your towel off and started dressing you. He kissed every nasty bruise or bite mark he came across, gently moving you to get some relatively tame lingerie and stockings on you followed by another white dress that reached just past your knees and had sleeves you really liked. He didn’t put any shoes on you, though, and you stood there for a moment waiting before you realized he wouldn’t.

Tomura and Keigo headed downstairs, playfully insulting each other and talking about what games they were going to play. You felt slightly uneasy, like you had something to do. Or maybe something was supposed to happen. Dabi snapped you out of it,

“Relax, doll,” he gave you a soft smile and ruffled your hair, “There’s nothing else you have to do. Just be a good girl, yeah?” You nodded and he kissed your cheek. His hand took up yours and he lead you downstairs, starting to explain more in-depth how the pocket worked and what stuff he’d put in it for you to be entertained.

When you got into one of the sitting rooms Kei and Tomura were already there, sitting on opposite ends of the same couch and scrolling through options for movies on the TV. Dabi sat between them and pulled you into his lap where you happily rested against him. You grazed your fingers along his cheek and he kissed you, holding you just how you liked. It really felt like home.

@krystalwithakay @soup-forthesoul @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love @vermeilies @babayaga67

616 notes · View notes

90stvshowgoth · 3 years

Text

— BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: dabi is on the run from the cops when you just happened to leave your window open.

tags: drunk sex, creampie, overstimulation, dubcon but not really,

wc: 6729

a/n: this is my first dabi fanfic so i’m worried i might’ve made him a bit too ooc but tbh i don’t care. soft dabi is what i want and soft dabi is what i will get. huge thanks by the way to @a-monsters-love who beta read this story and made it a lot less sucky!

my requests are open by the way!

What woke you wasn’t the explosions or the screams, but the sirens. The mechanical moans echoed through the streets of Musutafu, and that sound pulled you up out of bed, looking out your window in a bleary state of half-asleep fear.

‘What was going on?’ Goosebumps ran up your arms as you peered out your alleyway view window, overlooking the fire escape to the siren that had recently been installed in your neighborhood a few months back. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you tried to recall when the Pro Hero Association had brought it, and that same chill sank to your bones as you remembered just what they were for.

A villain had attacked the prefecture. A dangerous one.

You tried to calm your breathing, slowly walking backwards from the window to think rationally about the situation.

‘There’s no reason for somebody to attack a random apartment building, they’re off fighting heroes,’ The reasonable side of your brain said.

Despite that the siren was still wailing across town and it began to set you on edge. You certainly weren’t falling back asleep any time soon. If you couldn’t go back to bed you thought you’d might as well make some tea to calm your frigid nerves. You smiled when you saw your well-loved cardigan hanging next to the door and hugged it close, otherwise wearing nothing but your bra and leggings.

When you stepped into the main room you breathed in the warm scent of the candle that you’d accidentally left burning. Cursing yourself for your lack of fire safety, you shrugged and used the wick to light your path to the counter. After filling up the kettle under the sink you left it under the lit stove to boil, taking a moment to admire how the burner’s low flames were almost purely blue.

From here you could see the small television beside the couch and with a press of a button it came to life before you. The harsh glare made your eyes wince before they adjusted to the unfriendly light.

You were drawn to the red index near the corner that blinked the words ‘breaking news.’ This made your sleep-addled brain finally connect the dots between the sirens and the reporter. The screen cut to a newsman outside of what used to be a ten-story building when all that remained was a smoking husk. Hesitantly, you increased the volume to hear what happened.

“—before fleeing the scene. We have reports that say the hero fighting him was put into critical condition following the attack, and is currently being taken to the hospital. A video was taken by a nearby woman who sent it to the authorities. We believe this clip to be of the suspects,” the journalist paused, and a low-quality film began to play. Whoever was recording had badly shaking hands so It was difficult to make out. Your eyes widened at the sight of the building you walked by every day for work, the Shishido hero agency, razed by a torrent of blue wildfire.

Escaping from the crumbling building were four or so figures, too far away to see with any accuracy, but each had an unmistakeable silhouette. The League of Villains.

They were something of a modern socratic dialogue. Whenever someone brought up their name or the hero killer Stain’s it was always just to be a contrarian towards whoever was on the opposing side. Fanatical opinions would spark heated arguments online but you tried to keep your thoughts to yourself.

Although, if you’d have to pick a side, you would choose the League’s. After Stain’s video had spread through Japan you dug deeper into the shady histories of some of the Commission’s most well-respected heroes. Whatever standard you held those pros to crumbled into dust under miles of ‘collateral damage,’ and omitted crimes that were swept under the rug by police. So when the faces of the league went up on the screen you couldn’t help but smile at their victory.

The whistle of the kettle pulled you from the television. You rushed to take it off the stove before it could get any louder, and routinely began to fix the tea just the way you like it. You hummed, smiling as the first sip of the warm brew spread down your body, fending off the cold.

You threw the remote onto the couch that sat across from the small kitchen. Moving back to your bedroom and getting cozy with the tea, you reveled in the way that the mug loosened the frozen joints of your fingers. But before you could relax and block out the sirens with some music, you noticed another chill rush through the small room. Groaning over-dramatically, you set the tea down to retrieve another blanket from your pile; but your eyes widened when you tracked down the source of the cold.

Your window was open.

That caught you off guard. You were absolutely sure you closed it before bed knowing how low the temperatures would drop, though with growing panic you noticed how you specifically don’t remember locking it. There’s only two ways it could’ve been open now. Either you simply misremembered earlier that night and forgot to close it...

Or someone else broke in.

The tea’s warmth was long forgotten as you reached shaking hands to close the window. But before you could slide the panel shut a calloused hand clawed itself around your mouth so you couldn’t scream.

Fear gripped your lungs as you struggled to breathe, thrashing desperately against the second arm your assailant had snaked over your waist to keep you still. Your leg banged painfully on the side of the windowsill as you struggled but it didn’t deter you from opening your mouth wide enough to bite down on the attacker’s hand.

“Fuck!” He cursed when your teeth drew blood around his thumb and practically threw you to the ground. As you were about to use your newfound freedom to scream for help, the man lunged towards you with one outstretched hand.

His flesh was suddenly engulfed in a hissing blue fire and you winced at the wave of heat that flared so close to your face. From here you could easily make out the assailant’s features from the illuminating glow of his flames.

He had deep scars circled under his eyes using what looked like piercings to hold the tattered skin together. His lips quirked after realizing he’d caught you for good, making his charred skin pull against the metal in his cheekbones. Panic hadn’t altered your memory, you knew exactly who was standing over you. Dabi of the League of Villains.

Before either of you could make another move someone banged on the front door. You turned to look towards the sound but the heat close to your reddening throat kept you from doing anything stupid.

“Ma’am this is the police, open the door.” You and Dabi stared at each other from the implications and you could already see a plan forming behind his eyes.

He leaned far too close, keeping his lit hand still hovering over your neck as he whispered his words into your ear, “Listen to me nice and close, doll,” you couldn’t bring yourself to breathe underneath the searing tension. “You’re gonna answer that door. You’re gonna smile and say that nobody’s home. And if you give away fuckin’ anything,” Dabi’s flames somehow stoked themselves, the heat so intense that your teardrops evaporated before they could leave your eyes, “I’ll set your hair on fire first. So you can feel your brain cooking.” He spoke with a dripping malice that made your blood run cold despite the flames creeping up his arm. You nodded, too terrified to form words as he pushed forward; telling you to get up.

The brief walk from your bedroom to the front door had never felt so long. Your legs felt like the static emanating from the television, all shaky and unstable. Once your hands curled around the handle you decided not to spare a glance back.

‘What do I do?’ You didn’t want to die, at least not by immolation of all things, so you’d have to play along. You cupped your feverish face in your hands and took an unsteady breath. ‘As long as I can fool these cops, I’ll be fine. I can do this,’ At least, you hoped.

Opening the door caused the hallway’s lights to flood through your darkened doorway. Once your eyes flinched with discomfort you saw the unmistakeable uniforms of two police officers, both middle-aged and looking much more disinterested than you would’ve thought.

“Is there a problem?” You could lie smoothly enough but your voice was still feeble from Dabi’s strain on your neck.

The one who had called out earlier answered your question, “A member of the League of Villains was seen climbing in through a window to this apartment building, but the witness didn’t remember exactly which floor or room. Is anyone else with you?”

You feigned confusion, going so far with the act as to tilt your head slightly to the side. “No, I’m sure I’m alone, sir.”

At that moment a painfully loud squeak echoed from your bedroom and your eyes widened at the audible gap in your story. There was a loose floorboard right beside your bookshelf that creaked under even the slightest weight. You’ve learned to avoid it over time but Dabi had no idea.

That bored expression on the cop’s face shifted and you scrambled to come up with a explanation. “I thought you said you lived alone?”

An idea popped straight from your brain to your mouth, “My cat! His name is—“ you thought of the old, lovable house-cat your family had kept while growing up, “Byron. He like to get into my plants.”

“...Alright then, Ma’am, just keep yourself safe.” It seemed to just barely convince them.

You almost couldn’t fight back the elation as you waved off the oblivious pair, heeding their words by locking the door behind them in a rush. Pressing your back against the wood, you tried to settle the adrenaline pounding through your chest. Unfortunately as soon as you started to calm down, Dabi strode from the bedroom with a curious look in his eyes.

“Not bad, lady. Didn’t think you’d give it your all like that,” he must’ve kicked himself for making that noise and thought you would’ve used it as a way to give him up, “especially for a villain like me.”

The tension in the air had noticeably lessened, and you started to think you had a good shot at surviving the night. “I mean, I didn’t want them to find you either.”

Dabi paced around the living room, turning on one of your floor lights in his path towards the couch, “And why’s that?” He asked, flopping unceremoniously onto the secondhand loveseat.

Sure, you were still half pissed at the guy for breaking into your apartment and threatening to kill you, but it was clear that everything he did wasn’t personal. He just needed to escape from the police, but since they were gone what would happen now?

“Because...” you wanted to find the right words to convince him, “because I hate heroes too.”

Under the dim glow of the lamp you caught a glimpse of a half-handsome smile from that answer. Now that there was none of the malice from before you could appreciate just what he looked like under the warm lighting. Especially his eyes, which turned out to be a truly stunning shade of blue.

He kicked his feet onto your coffee table and patted the seat next to him. You’d have to deal with whatever dirt or soot he’d tracked inside tomorrow morning, but for now you found yourself accepting his invitation.

“Lucky me, huh?” Dabi asked rhetorically, and you found yourself almost smiling back at him. The couch was still cold underneath you but you painfully realized that Dabi was emanating heat like a goddamn generator.

‘It must’ve been from his quirk.’ you thought bitterly, shivering despite yourself.

Dabi drew a pack of Newports from his coat pocket and slid a cigarette out with his teeth. Instead of using a lighter a thin blue flame ignited on his index finger. He held it to the tip and drew in a deep lungful of smoke.

“So, what’s your deal, anyways? You got a thing for villains or something?” He wondered out-loud, teasing another blush onto your face as you shook your head.

“No, I just— I mean not like that,” From the look on his grafted face you could tell he wasn’t convinced. “The Hero Commission is corrupt, I agree with the league on that at least. Stain’s video kinda affected me, you know?”

Another small grin graced his lips and a small part of you decided that you wanted to see that expression more often, “What’s your name, doll?”

The question put you at ease; When he repeated it back, rolling the syllables over his tongue, you couldn’t wait to hear him say it again. Wordlessly, he extended his hand towards you, offering the lit cigarette between his fingers. When you took it all you could focus on was how warm his hands felt against yours for those brief seconds.

Wisps of smoke danced in the air as you inhaled, coughing a bit after the dry tang started to sting the back of your mouth. He smirked at your reaction before taking the cheap cigar from your fingertips.

Dabi saw the remote you left laying on the couch and mindlessly turned on the TV across from you. The news station was once again playing, this time an interview with one of the heroes who fought at the scene. This hero in particular was an older man with a receding hairline and an honestly ridiculous outfit that looked somewhere between a scuba diver and a 70s golden-age comic book character.

Beside you, Dabi groaned at the sight of him, “This fuckin’ guy...”

“Were you the one that fought him?” He nodded without breaking his attention from the screen.

“His quirk was such a pain to deal with. He controlled all the oxygen in the room— made it hard to set his ass on fire.”

There were a surprising lack of injuries on Dabi as far as you could see, aside from a few scrapes alongside the bruised scars that crawled below his loose shirt. You couldn’t help but wonder how far down they went, but quickly turned your attention back to the screen to ignore those ideas. The hero he fought looked far worse for wear, skin marred with fresh burns that singed holes into the costume; His legs shaking similarly to how yours were just fifteen minutes ago. Dabi seemed to have that effect on people.

Before you could ask him how he’d won his fight he was off the couch and walking towards the kitchen. He casually searched through your apartment with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

You sighed, a bit annoyed at how he helped himself to your fridge, “Dabi, if you’d tell me what you’re looking for I could show you.”

“Nah, already found what I wanted.” He dug open one of the drawers and smirked as he pulled a chill bottle of wine from the fridge.

Dabi tracked down two nearby glasses and a corkscrew before returning to your side and started to twist the metal tip into the pliant seal. It pulled loose with a soft pop and he filled each of your cups with the cherry wine you had been saving for a special occasion.

As you raised the rim to your lips and breathed in the fermented smell you paused. Were you really about to drink wine with a villain? A wanted criminal who broke into your apartment? His hand had been around your throat as he whispered about how he would burn you alive less than half an hour ago. There had to be something wrong with you to even consider it. Beside you he nearly emptied half the glass in his first sip before going back to enjoying his cigarette and you found your resolve crumbling at his lazy half-smile. Making possibly one of the dumbest mistakes of your life, you followed his lead and took a long swig from the bittersweet drink, intent on letting the alcohol relax your nerves.

The effects were slow to come, it was only wine after all, but as the night carried on and the two of you kept drinking you started to notice the effects taking hold. At the very least, conversation between you flowed easily, trading questions about each other that never grew too inquisitive. He didn’t try to pry too deeply, he didn’t even ask for your last name, and you were sure to never bring up his scars. You talked for what must’ve been hours, and as the bottle emptied, the space between the two of you grew smaller.

Dabi could handle his alcohol, but you couldn’t, clearly. To be fair, he was tipsy, but the way you unashamedly leaned your head on his shoulder when you grew tired was anything but sober.

“So, doll, got a boyfriend or something?” He asked, testing the waters. You leaned up and sighed at the question.

“No, nothin’ like that... I haven’t had the time.” You tipped your glass back but the wine never reached your lips. You groaned at the sight of the empty cup and leaned up to grab the bottle from the table. Unfortunately, Dabi’s hand held onto yours before you could reach the vice; You felt him pull you back towards the couch by your wrist until you lost your balance, falling back against his shoulder. If he minded he didn’t show it as his arm rested around your hip.

“I think you’ve had enough for tonight,” The condescending tone in his voice was annoying but it wasn’t enough to make you move from his comfortable grasp.

You scoffed, messing with your hair to avoid looking at his face, “God, who are you, my dad?”

A shit-eating grin stretched across his face, “Oh, so you’re into that Daddy shit, huh?”

The comment took you so off-guard that you broke into a fit of giggles that did nothing to temper the blush returning to your face. Dabi loved how much of an effect he had on you; the simplest words turning you into a flustered mess.

“Nah, not my thing-“ ‘Unless you’re into it,’ You barely kept yourself from saying that second part out loud. From this angle Dabi had the perfect view of your tits pressing against his chest and he stared shamelessly. You barely noticed, too focused on how warm he was while holding you close to his side. It almost looked like something a boyfriend would do, but you knew better.

It was a strange feeling, to be so under Dabi’s influence. Every lingering touch, every heated stare... It was driving you crazy. And he knew it. He was toying with you and you couldn’t believe how much you loved it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a chill running down your spine, only realizing that you were so caught up in your time spent with Dabi that you forgot to close the very window he had snuck through. As the night carried on it somehow got colder and you cursed the thin cardigan you found yourself wearing that did nothing to shield away the biting air.

“You cold, doll?” Dabi was surprisingly perceptive, noticing the trail of goosebumps that ran down your arms. Although, perhaps it was the sensation of his hand trailing over your skin that caused it rather than the wind.

Nodding hesitantly, he wasted no time in wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You couldn’t have held back the relieved sigh that left your lips if you tried. Because when Dabi wrapped his arms around your back, pulling you to his chest, it felt like heaven to your frigid bones.

As you curled into the embrace he couldn’t ignore how you felt on top of him. The pressure of your ass sitting on his dick drove him crazy, and it took damn near everything in him to not push you down face first and take you then and there.

“Dabi, you feel amazing,” His eyes widened, your slurred words almost making him lightheaded, “so warm...” You trailed your hands up and threaded them through his coarse dark hair. The faintest of groans left his lips as you got comfortable and accidentally dragged yourself down the front of his jeans.

All at once he took hold of the skin of your thighs, stopping you from moving and damn near shaking with effort to keep still. “Doll... cause’ you’re drunk, I’ll ask you this one time—“

“—Please, Dabi,” You didn’t budge under his bruising grasp or struggle like before, instead holding eye-contact, resolve heavy in your voice, “I want this- want you so bad,” It was enough for him, and he didn’t hold back.

He was ravenous when he finally pressed his lips to yours, leaving you tongue-tied and moaning into his mouth. The alcohol only added fuel to your desire, easing the tension on your clit by grinding against him. He broke the kiss in a choked gasp, his hands cupping you around your ass and fondling you through the thin material. When he stood up from the couch gravity somehow felt heavier, but it must’ve been from the wine. His hands still held you by your thighs and while he backed the both of you towards the bedroom his lips never left yours, even when he went to rip your cardigan off your shoulders, leaving it behind along with his coat, you in only your bra and leggings.

The loud bang from Dabi kicking the door open startling a squeak out of you and he chuckled into the kiss, running a stapled hand through your bedhead and pulling hard enough to make you keen into his touch. Rather unceremoniously he threw you onto the bed, briefly disorientating before you could make out Dabi’s alluring figure ridding himself of his clothes. Once he pulled over his shirt you saw his maimed chest covered in taught muscles and scars. As he broke your gaze to turn his attention to his jeans, fumbling with the cheap zipper, you couldn’t help from crawling towards him slowly on your knees before whispering, “No—“ He looked up from his trance, wondering if you’d changed your mind before you quickly perished the thought by pulling him towards you by the loops on his jeans. He raised an eyebrow at your show but didn’t make a move to interrupt the adorable way you took care of him.

So you began, looking into his eyes as you kissed down his deformed chest. It seemed a miracle he was even standing before you, with haphazard staples barely holding him together. You couldn’t resist giving the seams of his wounds special attention, pressing light kisses to the metal as you made your way down.

You unhooked his jeans easily, eagerly reaching to feel him through his boxers. His nails dug into your scalp when you finally eased his shorts off, breaking your eyes away to look between his legs and—

You couldn’t’ve stopped the needy moan from your lips if you tried, too attracted and nervous about the shiny bridges of metal through his dick. “Fuck, Dabi...” he had the most cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on his face as he watched you salivate over him.

“What’s wrong, baby? Never had a guy with piercings before?” You didn’t even hear him, instead responding with a dazed shake of your head; far too tipsy on the sight of him towering over you, reddened head leaking against his stomach.

He pretended to come to a decision, “Guess I’ll have to take my time with you before fucking that cute pussy,” his words sent heat straight to your core, slick pooling in your ruined panties, “but then why am I the only one naked? You’re gonna make me embarrassed you know.” The amused look on his face put you at ease and you laughed a bit at the idea.

“You? You’re the most shameless person I’ve ever met.” The smile he brought out was enough to ease the nerves that came with being so vulnerable to a man like Dabi.

The foe-offended look on his face wasn’t any less ironic, “You wound me, doll,” when his attention fell back to your clothes he didn’t hesitate to snake his hand below your arched back and unclasp your bra. Before you could think of covering yourself he’d already raised your arms up and thrown the lace material into some corner of your room.

He was on you in an instant, biting and sucking on the plush skin of your tits with abandon, enjoying every small tremor it brought from your shaking lips. To him your body was a blank canvas just begging for him to bruise, and he would take his sweet time carving teeth marks into your chest.

But while he had his fun you had yours, running your hand along his collarbones and carefully worrying the stapled hem of skin. You weren’t sure how the stitches would hold up otherwise. But before you could worry about it too much you felt him pull away, a deep hickey left in his wake.

“You don’t have to be gentle with them,” he looked up at you with an unexpected sincerity.

With that there was nothing to hold you back from dragging your nails down his chest, the villain groaning as you felt his solid stomach beneath you. From a distance he looked like a patched rag-doll that was barely holding itself together but up close the wiry muscles that clung to his calloused body couldn’t be ignored. Dabi practically hissed when he felt your soft fingers wrap around his cock, only spurring you on further. The piercings weren’t as rigid as they appeared but they were scalding to the touch.

His breathing stuttered around you as you picked up your pace, the heat of his breath pulsing on your cheek as you took in every sinful expression on his face. He cried out, squeezing his eyes shut at the pleasure. You stared unabashedly, taking note of how peaceful he looked above you. Like for the first time that night his body wasn’t wrought with chronic pain.

When you pulled your hand away his eyes shot open. “I didn’t tell you to fuckin’ stop.” He sounded pissed but before you could lose confidence you shifted your weight to the side, locking your arms together behind his to roll him over, leaving you on top.

“I wanna make you feel good, Dabi,” Thankfully he seemed to be curious as to what you had planned, letting you stay on top for now. You crawled down his body until you reached his painful hard-on. Wrapping your hand back around him you gave him the most doe eyed gaze you could manage before taking him into your mouth.

“God, that’s fuckin’ good,” He cradled your head and set his own pace, not too rough but far from gentle as you fought the urge to cough. The metal of his piercings were hot against your tongue, the heat unlike any other experience you’ve had before. Wrapping your tongue around him you intentionally hummed, the keening moan it brought from him more than worth the burn. Tears crowded near your eyelashes as he chased his own pleasure, breaking his gaze to crane his head back in ecstasy. His neck bobbed with the effort and the sight made you almost proud.

It was over far too soon and once he pulled away you almost missed the weight of him in your mouth. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you, hear me?” His words made you all too aware of how badly you needed him, but he continued to run his mouth as he pushed you up the sheets and took his place back on top of you, “Gonna fill you so good, babydoll,” He caged you beneath him and you whined at the feeling of his slick cock heavy against your thighs.

His hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me, which do you want?” His blue eyes looked black in the feint light, staring at you with such an amused intensity that you didn’t even register what he said.

“What?”

Dabi tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before leaning closer and whispering, “My mouth? Or my fingers?”

You normally wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye after he said that but liquid courage still ran through your veins and you leaned forward until you could nestle into the crook of his neck.

“Your fingers, Dabi,” You groaned as you felt his grip around your jawline move until his left hand curled around your neck and his right tore off your leggings before slipping below the waistband of your underwear. As soon as he touched you his eyes widened, a feral glint in his eyes.

“Fuck— Doll, you’re so fucking wet,” He squeezed your neck experimentally and the rush of endorphins sent to your head felt divine. It wasn’t to be outdone when you felt him circle your clit with his thumb, rushing into such a fast pace from the get-go. The onslaught of pleasure made a scratchy cry slip from under the grip of his hand. Wrapping your hands around his shoulders, you were almost thankful for the immovable grip around your neck. It served almost like an anchor to ground you underneath him.

He pulled a startled squeak from your throat when his two fingers pushed their way inside. It barely hurt, but the maddening feeling of his long fingers curling and stretching your walls was one you wouldn’t forget. Dabi shushed your eager cries with an endless stream of filth whispered into your ear, “Can’t wait to fuck my cum into you, dollface. You want that? You gonna be my good fucking slut?” He was downright mean as he took his time stringing you like a bow. “You wanna feel me drip out of you like a street whore?”

“Yes, Dabi, I’ll be good, I promise just please—” You were too far gone at that point, grabbing fist fulls of dark hair to yank him to your mouth, the kiss muffling his groan from you pulling on your hair. His index finger curled so slightly into you, the pace on your clit turning soft once he added his third finger. The sound he brought out of you was somewhere between a dying choke and euphoric moan, each sensation coaxing you into his touch. Feeling him move so easily within you was almost enough to bring you over, your whimpers increasing against his lips, only for all of it to be taken away.

Dabi left you grasping around nothing when he took his hands away, no doubt enjoying the desperate way you tried to rock yourself back onto him. Only when you did, you were met with something far bigger than his fingers.

“Come on...” When he called you by your name it brought you back to earth for a minute, “I want you to beg for me,” looking to see his heavy length pressed against you as he rubbed the glistening tip onto your clit. “You’re gonna beg for a villain to fuck you,” The promise of pleasure was so enticing that it was worth lying to the cops, worth risking your safety, and enough to toss your pride out the open window.

Grabbing him by his hair, you forced him to look at you. “Dabi, please, I need you... Need you in me ‘til you cum,” desperation and lust coated every sinful word you said, but Dabi wasn’t satisfied. “I wanna be good for you, Dabi, want you to fuck me, fill me up, ple-“ your words were cut off by the intense stretch of your walls trying to take him in. You’d never screamed someone’s name so loudly before in your life.

“Oh, fuck-! Shit... your pussy’s so fuckin’ tight,” As each inch sunk deeper you couldn’t speak or even breathe.

He wasn’t wasting any time, mercifully toying with your clit as he filled you. The air felt thin in your bedroom, like you were hundreds of feet from the ground, drawing short, shallow gasps beneath him.

“Da-bi!” His hips ground slowly against yours and you were suddenly thankful for his prepping, unable to come to grips with just how full you felt.

An overwhelmed laugh fell from his burnt lips as he slowly pulled himself from your dripping sex, “What’sa matter, babe? Can’t take it?”

The pout on your face only made him grin, the childish indignity adorable to him. But his teasing was starting to push you to your limits. He might’ve been a powerful villain and you a civilian, but it didn’t mean he had to treat you like glass. Hooking your legs around his waist you forced him forward. Dabi’s eyes shot open and both of you choked at the sharp friction. Any trace of playfulness died then and there, his knuckles turning white from the grip on your hips.

He kept your legs tight around him as he surged forward, your mouth caught open in a daze. You weren’t sure what his piercings would’ve felt like inside of you but god, was it good. The metal spokes impressed into your body with fervor, constantly dragging against your sensitive walls.

Tomorrow you might say that the wine was what drove you so crazy for him, but you knew you’d be lying to yourself. He was by far the most intoxicating libation you’d ever tried. The sound of skin against skin was almost deafening, only broken by the dulcet groans from the man above you and the siren that still echoed outside your widow like white noise. In the back of your mind you wondered if they were still searching for him.

Dabi leaned his head into the crook of your neck, revisiting the marks he’d already made. His teeth bit down your chest all the while abusing your aching clit. It was all too much. You couldn’t help clawing at his broad shoulders, leaving inflamed tracks in your wake. When your nails made contact with the scorched seam on his back Dabi moaned, the loud whine in his voice got you to realize something crucial. The motherfucker got off on pain.

His touch turned ravenous after that, pulling you tight against him until there wasn’t any space between your bodies. The rough texture of his skin-graphs and the blistering heat of their staples pushing against your breasts just made his brutal pace feel more intense.

Your voice was higher pitched than you’d ever thought you could manage, squeaking out small moans with every quick pulse of his hips. Your ankles were sore and locked together— he couldn’t have pulled out if he tried. The legs that were still wrapped around him twitched involuntarily as you felt the string inside your core about to snap.

“Fa.. fuck, Da—bi I’m—“ you stuttered against him, crying into his shoulder when you felt his pelvis grinding so perfectly onto your clit while he railed you, screaming his name one more time as he pulled you overboard, being sure to scratch at his back as you thrashed futilely against him.

All at once his teeth were buried into your throat, digging in so hard that you mistook his spit for blood; his bite only sharpening the orgasm that sent waves of heat coursing through you. Against your dented skin he groaned and cursed, his voice coarse but dripping with pleasure as he cursed expletives onto your shining skin. The wetness of your climax dripped down your legs, making him somehow push faster against you, but despite the blinding orgasm he’d thrown you into he couldn’t stop until he’d finished and the overstimulation burned white hot through your entire body. Just as the drive of his cock bordered on painful, Dabi shoved you down onto him, stilling above you and choking on a groan.

Twitching inside your cashmere walls you felt the warm rush of his cum paint your insides as his hips jerked into yours. His heart beat wildly against his chest— you could feel it over yours, his eyes still glazed with pleasure. Dabi was sure to pull out slowly, through the dim glow of your room he could see his cum seep out of your glistening pussy, and he couldn’t help but push his fingers inside you one last time. He might’ve liked pain, but he was an asshole who enjoyed the uncomfortable keen it brought from your trembling lips.

Thin moonlight shone through your window, illuminating the maze of blemishes that razed against his alabaster skin. It might’ve been because of the bleary tears that still half-clung to your eyelashes, but above you, with a winded smile on his torn-up face, he looked half a corpse and half a god.

“Still with me, baby?” He noticed your staring, teasing you by waving his hand in front of your face.

You felt almost high, all drowsy symptoms included, only responding to his question with a feint grin. The wine and the rough sex both made you exhausted in more ways than one, but before you could complain Dabi had shifted his weight off the bed.

“Nooo...” Admittedly you felt a little childish but you couldn’t help but pout as he grabbed his briefs and went to leave your bedroom.

Through the open doorway he’d said, “Just getting a towel, stay put.”

His absence gave you a second to think, staring up at the ceiling with a thousand opposing thoughts bidding for your attention. You just slept with a villain— a murderer. You might side with what he stands for but Dabi was still dangerous. He could’ve killed you tonight, after all. And yet, the only thing you could wonder was what was taking him so long.

Soon he returned wearing his boxers, carrying a heavy towel that he ran under the sink with warm water and took to cleaning the dribbling mess between your thighs. You cooed at his touch, the afterglow of your orgasm cleaned away until Dabi read the alarm clock on your bedside table. 4am.

“You know I can’t stay, right?” He asked bluntly, and you nodded, trying not to let the disappointment show too badly on your face.

“Villain stuff, huh?” You shrugged, curling up into your pillow. Dabi had to continue hunting down the rest of his shed clothes while he mumbled some kind of agreement.

He flashed you a grin while he zipped up his tattered jeans, “Doesn’t mean I won’t break in some other time, doll.” Relief spread through your fingertips once he said that, the weight disappearing from your shoulders.

Your content smile followed him as he threw that thick coat around his shoulders, walking up to your bedside and leaning low. You grinned, leaning forward and trying to catch him for one more kiss, only to be interrupted by the sound of something below you.

Looking down, you saw Dabi slapping a handful of crumpled bills on your end-table, that smug grin from earlier evident on his face. Without bidding you some kind of goodbye kiss he made his way to the open window, sparing you a glance before saying, “Buy some plan B, alright?”

You hadn’t even thought of it, grinning and waving him off as he swung himself onto the fire escape. The sounds of metal clanging against his boots faded away into the distant echoes of the city, and you brought your hand to your throat. Softly you traced the deep blemish his teeth had left behind, your smile turning giddy as you thought about his promise of another visit, but unfortunately the wine was still simmering through you and without Dabi to keep you awake your eyelids started to feel heavy.

Under your plush covers, you continued to cup your hand over the mark he left as you faded off into sleep, the siren that still echoed through the streets acting almost like a lullaby.

#dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #smut #my hero academia #mha #dabi #touya todoroki #ao3 repost #touya x reader #mha headcanons #lov x reader

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hoe-imaginess · 4 years

Text

a helping hand (or two) | dabi

Dabi x fem!Reader

summary: Dabi is suffering from an aphrodisiac quirk. Now he’s got a dick that just won’t quit, and you have to take care of it.

word count: 10.4k

contains: almost dub-con, handies, bjs, dick riding, dirty talk, slight violence, a very stubborn Dabi who has to be restrained

a/n: self-indulgent & vaguely crack-ish. my idea of an aphrodisiac includes an overload of the five senses bc...idk I wanted to play w/ descriptive prose. my kink is describing Dabi’s horniness in paragraphs ok. meaty intro before the smut, hang in there

⤰⤰⤰

Dabi entertained the alley-dweller’s angry outbursts with sadistic patience. The man yelled at him, threatened him, boasted of all the ways in which he was going to make Dabi suffer for attacking and underestimating him—

Then, finally having decided that the fodder was no longer amusing him, the flame-user extended a glowing palm in preparation to finish the job.

When you read the intention in Dabi’s movement, you fidgeted where you stood and calculated the risk of opposing him.

“You can’t just keep burning everyone you don’t like,” you said, calculations made, deciding that you might as well attempt to be a voice of reason while you were paired up with him on this job.

It was a voice he happily ignored. The white-hot glare of his palm smoldered into the bursting blue of his flames as they lit up his fingers.

“Says who?”

Trash was trash. If you couldn’t see that, then oh well. Folly on your part for thinking the tedious task of recruiting didn’t require this sort of disposal; what better to do with underwhelming candidates than permanently remove them from the talent pool? You shouldn’t have tagged along if you weren’t prepared for his methods.

When the alley-villain realized that Dabi’s patience for his empty, arrogant threats had been spent, his dirt-stained face colored with fear, and his wild eyes darted in every direction of the alley to seek refuge from the imminent flames. He started to plead—which Dabi found grimly amusing given that the man had been spouting insults about his patchwork skin just moments before—then he shrank back against the alley wall, sinking to the ground in fear.

“The more bodies you leave the easier it will be for the police to track us.” You’d taken to your persuasions again, fruitless though you knew it was.

“And?”

“And you’ll be compromising the entire League.”

“If all you’re gonna do is complain then you don’t have to tag along, ya know.” He spared a glance your way, with that drolly exasperated look on his face he always gave when he felt you were speaking out of turn.

But his diverted attention proved costly: the alley-dweller suddenly went berserk, and was rushing at him with a final, rogue desperation to escape.

The charge, surprisingly swift as it was, was also uncalculated, and Dabi narrowly side-stepped to avoid a blow. With an indignant sneer, he rounded his hand and kindled his flames anew: no more games, it was time to kill. But before he could retaliate, the lunatic was on him again, barreling toward him.

Though fatally seared by the sudden discharge of flame that Dabi released, the derelict’s bulk was still sufficient to topple into Dabi and throw him off balance. He might have fallen from the impact if not for the way the man gave a wailing, pained shriek and threw himself away from the flames.

Torched and agonized as the man was, his mounted attack hadn’t been a complete failure: though Dabi’s flames had mostly protected him, there was an unmistakable sensation of damage in him which left him suddenly rigid with alarm.

Had he been wounded?

He looked down at himself, saw no injuries from which the bodily distress might have been roused. After a few moments the distress was gone, and he decided it was just adrenaline. Then, there returned the enervated frustration.

“Trash,” he muttered indignantly, glaring at the steaming heap of the man, who’d stumbled over a litter of aluminum trash bins and capsized with them onto the ground. He wasn’t moving. But he was still whole, and not the pile of burning ash he could have been, should have been, now, after that little effrontery—

Your arm was on him before he could pursue the murderous thoughts.

“Are you alright?” you asked, inspecting him carefully.

Instantly and fiercely, he shrugged away from your touch.

“Fine,” he grunted out, straightening and stiffening his limbs to convince himself of it. But that odd feeling was still there, burgeoning slowly at the sight of the man’s body fuming on the ground, at your own body standing so close to him. “If you hadn’t been running your damn mouth—”

“Sorry,” you conceded, more concerned with his demeanor than with defending yourself. In all likelihood he didn’t even realize how ruffled he looked. “Did he… are you hurt?”

“I said I’m fine,” he insisted firmly.

While you stared at him in doubtful concern, an energetic heat crept up his spine. Slow, like an insect bite bringing its stinging warmth to a crawl over his skin, skin both scarred and unscarred alike.

There was a smell, then, when he took his shallow breaths: something sweet, like lingering perfume, or fragrant incense—

Fairly quickly he realized the smell was coming from you, and glared at you in puzzled indignation, like the fact that this scent was yours and that he could smell it now—why could he smell it so profusely now, when he hadn’t before? What the hell?—was somehow offensive. Worst of all it smelled damn good. Had you always smelled that good?

“...What is it?” you asked carefully, not quite able to place the look on his face, but considerably unnerved by it, nonetheless. “Dabi…?”

Your voice—it held such particular tones that he hadn’t before noticed until now, as though he’d been deaf to what you really sounded like; how sleek and enticing your words were when they came out of your pretty mouth.

Oh, and your mouth: lips parted fretfully in preparation for another concerned inquiry on his well-being, objectively innocent but suddenly, and infuriatingly, looking very much like they were tempting him for a kiss.

Then when your pink tongue came to wet your lips in anxious trepidation, that too he saw as a maddeningly teasing gesture that made his hands feel hot. Then it was his feet; then his whole body.

He began to fidget where he stood.

Then, at the sudden onset of warmth in his head, he slid over to the alley wall, a splayed hand against the brick keeping his balance while he hung his dizzy head low.

“What the hell,” he muttered to himself woozily.

“Dabi?” You went to inspect him cautiously. You couldn’t see his expression through the curtain of black that had fallen over his face, but you knew something was amiss. “Are you okay?” you asked again.

“I’m fine,” he huffed out, and you’d been oblivious to his hoarse breathing up until the moment you stopped in front of him.

“Dabi,” you begged his attention now that his eyes had closed shut, his features pinched. “What’s wrong?”

His eyes, dizzied by the heat, began to play tricks on him. Even behind the closed lids he saw sparks flying, and swirls of white-hot passion dancing.

When the heat in him turned to a near-burning sensation, he opened his eyes and stared down at his body. Was his quirk activated? he thought confusedly. Or was the heat that licked his skin just a hallucination: flames that failed to consume him wholly? What the hell was happening? What was this—

The heat finally centered—mortifyingly—between his legs, and what had been confusion before was now full-blown bafflement.

“Dabi,” you were saying again.

The sound of your voice inflamed him not in aggravation, but something else.

“You don’t look good,” you said. The way his breath had thinned to long, rough pants put anxiety in you. “...I’ll call Kurogiri.” You fished your phone from your pocket with the intention of doing so.

A grunt was his response; he couldn’t coherently pick his words. Then, the anticipation of your voice again, on the phone, speaking in those tones and that sweet melody, made him shudder.

“No,” he muttered.

You looked at him, the phone to your ear, the line ringing. “What?”

“Don’t,” was all he could say, lower this time, almost in a growl.

“But Dabi, you—”

Suddenly, at the thought of hearing your voice for even another second, the fire overtook him.

First he slapped the phone from your grip. Its screen broke against the pavement and the voice that answered the call—too late, you thought fleetingly—stuttered on the line. Then he slammed you against the wall.

Winded and bewildered, it took you several seconds to find your bearings. In that time he’d pressed against you, his breath so hot and so angry that it flushed perspiration over your skin.

Gaping, your lips trembled. “Dabi, what—”

“Shut up,” he seethed quietly, teeth baring.

You recognized the wild look of violence on his face, but the lust in his hazy eyes wasn’t anticipated. Nor was the erection you felt pressing against your leg. You stared wide-eyed as the sinking realization came over you.

In desperation you pushed at him; he pushed back, corralling you against the wall even harder.

The air was knocked out of your lungs, and with it, a dying protest, “Wait—”

He clamped a too-warm hand over your mouth, and pressed his face against yours. His forehead on your own felt feverish and sweaty; his eyes, like blue-burned coals, pierced into yours. You could smell the heat smoldering off of him.

He loosed a shaky, unhinged breath. “Shut. Up.”

Unthinking, your hand tugged at the one on your mouth, inadvertently digging into his staples. But his wild passion lent him a worrisome insensitivity to the hurt, and his other hand was going for your waist, squeezing into your shirt and wrenching you impossibly closer against him.

The pain which erupted from his compromised staples only fanned the flames of his arousal. He didn’t know why. Of course he fucking didn’t. He didn’t even know why his body was moving the way it was: rutting against you, seeking friction for his aching dick.

His mouth went to your neck but applied no kisses or intimate caresses; he just pressed against the skin and breathed in pants. He put his free hand to your breast, the movement not a calculated one, more like he was seeking leverage to his imbalance. The stuttering beat of your heart was palpable under his palm.

"Fuck,” he sputtered out angrily, disoriented, and dug his fingers into your chest. You moaned behind his palm, both in shock and pleasure.

All he needed to hear was the latter.

The sound made him hiss a low and dangerous curse, and when he peeked his head back up, his pulsing eyes shone with something beyond just lust now: pure hunger.

Just as he moved his hand away from your mouth with the intent of crashing his own against you in a bruising kiss, there was a sound behind him.

In the back of his mind he recognized it: Warp Gate.

Kurogiri, and possibly someone else, had answered your call for aid.

Dabi utterly ignored it.

It had nothing to do with him.

He was only concerned with the heat. All he felt was the heat; all he saw was your lips: parted in dumbfoundment, dry, and begging to be wetted by his tongue–

There was a commotion, and then an angry voice that Dabi distantly recognized as Shigaraki’s.

Then a blow to the back of his head took everything away.

⤰

A subtle transformation had overtaken his body by the time he woke.

No longer was the heat excruciating, but it was still there, nevertheless: a curling medium beneath his skin which he felt the instant consciousness came back to him. With it, the dizzy ache in his head and the haze in his eyes. Then, finally: his limbs refusing to move when he tried to stretch them.

At once he realized he was back in the bar, confined in a chair, with people gawking at him from all sides.

He blinked his vision back to clarity, then scowled. “The hell?”

“Do you remember anything, Dabi?” That was Kurogiri somewhere to his left. Looking, Dabi confirmed his usual station behind the bar.

Delaying an answer, the flame-user glanced around. Not all of the League was there, he saw. Besides Kurogiri, only Shigaraki and you were audience to the spectacle.

You tried to avoid his harsh eyes when they landed on you, when they flitted across your features as if in an elaborate struggle to put pieces of a disoriented puzzle together. Solved, apparently, as his memory came back, his confused scowl worked into a realizing frown.

“Shit,” he muttered in annoyance.

Shuffling uncomfortably in the chair, he surmised it was rope binding his wrists behind his back, and his ankles to the chair legs. But the movement also brought attention to the hot pressure in his gut.

Or at the least, he thought that’s where it was—until he glanced down and realized that despite the abatement of the wild heat, his erection still peeked proudly underneath his jeans.

Now he was scowling again.

“What the hell,” he spat out, and suddenly, with his frustration flourishing, the heat was returning in slow order.

He cursed under his breath. He looked up and glared at the first onlooker he set his eyes upon: Kurogiri.

“Get me out of this shit.”

“I can’t do that,” the man replied regrettably. “When I came to retrieve you from the scene we had no choice except to put you down when you refused to listen. Given the nature of the quirk that you’ve been struck with, we have to take precautions until we know it’s out of your system.”

Dabi listened with steely suspicion. “What quirk?”

“An aphrodisiac—” You almost bit your tongue once you’d started, because the quick and fierce glance he gave you suggested he wasn’t entirely happy with you, and even less happy to hear your voice.

“It’s an aphrodisiac quirk,” you stated, more calmly now.

Dabi blinked, brows knotting in concentration. Spoken plainly that way, it seemed absurd, stupid.

He scoffed dryly. “You’re joking.”

“Really fucked up this time, didn’t you?” came Shigaraki from a spot at the bar, his arms crossed. “Serves you right, searching the alleys for trash. I told you to stop doing that shit.”

“Fuck off,” Dabi spat. “How was I supposed to know the guy’d have such a stupid fuckin’…”

Dabi tsked and shuffled uncomfortably in his chair again. The bitterness he felt for his confinement was quickly gaining, and so was the returning arousal. A sweltering, uncomfortable warmth on his skin made him hyperaware of his flushed face, and he could practically feel the sweat teeming on his unscarred flesh.

“I’m serious,” he muttered, glaring at Shigaraki. “Get me out of this.”

“So you can go ape shit again? No. It’s disgusting.”

“I’m not gonna do shit, relax.”

Dabi was aware then that focus was being pulled in the room, pulled directly to you: the victim of his unbidden arousal.

With a roll of his eyes, he huffed a frustrated breath and gave you what might have passed for an apology, if he’d even bothered looking at you. “My bad, and all that.”

Shigaraki’s arrogant snort derailed whatever amendment you might have transpired to make.

“You’re lucky the guy was still alive when we got there—barely,” your leader went on. “Told us a bit about what to expect from you in the next few hours though, once we promised we’d let him go.”

Dabi gave him a flat look of doubt.

Shigaraki scoffed. “Didn’t keep that promise, obviously.” Then he was scowling behind Father. “I don’t like having to clean up your messes. Shouldn’t have to finish off your fodder for you. You can’t even do that right, can you?”

Dabi’s frustration was in full bloom now, despite reason persuading him against it; he’d gathered enough at this point—at the expense of his own body—to know that agitation of any kind would feed the quirk’s effects.

Heat pooled low in his stomach when he demanded again, “Let me out of this shit right now or I’m gonna get mad.”

“Supposed to be a 24-hour thing unless you take care of it, to put it plainly,” Shigaraki responded.

“I assumed as much. So get me outta this shit and I’ll fuck off for a while.”

“Nah. Don’t need you going and causing a scene somewhere because you don’t know how to keep your pants on.”

You could feel the conflagration of tension in the room. Maybe it was Dabi’s quirk, maybe it was the alley-dweller’s mixing with it, making it dangerously palpable. Regardless, Shigaraki’s snark seemed to bring Dabi’s attention back to his body, to the insufferable bulge between his legs that demanded relief.

“This is stupid,” he declared bitterly, and tugged on the knots tied at his wrists, the throbbing heat in his lower-half lending itself to his quirk as it activated in licking flames along his arms. He was tired of this shit. He lost his temper all at once. “You’re damn crazy if you think I’m just gonna sit here—”

Then there was blue flame torching the back of the chair, blackening the rope which bound him and making the tethers frail enough to tear apart under a strong tug. He was freeing himself.

From there, it all happened relatively swiftly.

As he went to work on the binds at his feet with newly liberated arms, Shigaraki was in a conniption of angry protests, and Kurogiri fluttered nervously between taking action or remaining an onlooker.

Then there was you, probably the least equipped to do much of anything to alleviate the situation, but nevertheless skipping to your feet the moment the chaos ensued. There was arguing, cursing, insults—then your voice, attempting to wedge some conciliatory reason into the room.

It did the exact opposite.

Dabi had apparently forgotten of the trigger in your voice that sent his body into a frenzy. When you spoke up, your voice just loud enough to cut above the rest of the uproar, his aspiration to free himself tapered off as his sharp eyes honed in on you.

His arousal came back with a vengeance; in his pants, his dick twitched angrily for relief, and that frenzy took over his thought process again.

His flames burned the rope at his feet and he came at you, so close, so very close, not knowing why he was doing it but only that he needed to touch you—

You were frozen on the spot. But Shigaraki was reaching for something along the bar, and Dabi’s world went black again soon after.

⤰

When he woke this time, his rope bonds had been replaced for something cold and metallic, something stronger to withstand the vehemence of his flames. Even the chair to which he was bound had been swapped for something sturdier than wood.

“You fuckin’ serious?” he spat out, even before his vision had centered. He knew where he was, and why he was there. No need for context clues.

“You gave us no other choice,” Kurogiri amended carefully, the black vapors that composed him flitting about anxiously.

“Told you that you’d lose it,” Shigaraki said, anger having replaced all his snarky tones of condescension from before. “You’re like a damn animal.”

Dabi hissed and put his head back, feeling the soreness at his nape from consecutive blows. If he weren’t so presently occupied with the curl of heat welcoming him afresh, he might have simmered on the idea of burning his relatively recent—but entirely disagreeable—boss to a crisp when this was over.

Then for the first time Dabi realized you were absent, and glanced around as if in search of you. Good, he thought, when he confirmed that you were missing. You just... complicated things.

“I’m fine now,” he insisted, as placidly as possible as if to give stock to his lie. The respite had done nothing for the arousal harassing him; the longer it having gone unsatiated, even in unconsciousness, making it all the more demanding.

Mellowing his urgency to a non-existent degree was almost impossible, however. Dabi knew the way the soles of his shoes twisted and flattened restlessly into the ground below was anything but inconspicuous.

“Just warp me outta here, Kurogiri,” he implored.

“No,” Shigaraki answered. “Shut up. Consider this a lesson. No more rummaging for allies in shithole parts of town. This is what happens when you go dumpster-diving for recruits.”

“You want me to burn this place down?” Dabi threatened, testing the strength of his bonds. A flicker of blue teased along his jawline. “‘Cause I got no problem doing that.”

Shigaraki shrugged. “Sure. You’ll just burn up with it, since you’ve got no way out of that chair.”

He knew it was true, and worked his jaw. “For all you know the damn guy was lyin’,” he said as a final act of contempt, and gave his leader a leery, side-long glare. “And this shit might not go away on its own.”

“Guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

Dabi sneered. Foiled, but regardlessly frustrated by the truth of it, he put his head back with an angry sigh and resigned himself to an attempted calm.

⤰

You’d lingered in the bar’s back rooms for the better part of an hour before emerging.

Shigaraki had instructed you to make yourself scarce, but you were drafted to stay by some guilty—and admittedly curious—sentiment.

It was awfully unfair, you agreed, to keep Dabi chained up like he was—even in spite of the danger he posed under the quirk’s influence. But you must have overlooked that danger when you decided to slip into the main room where he was being held, long after you had been assured that Kurogiri and Shigaraki were gone.

His back to the door, Dabi didn’t glance over his shoulder at the sound of your footsteps. It seemed he was sour enough not to offer greeting, and preferred to be left alone in his turmoil.

He especially didn’t want your company, which he made clear by way of a harsh frown when you came into his peripheral.

He tsked and readjusted uncomfortably in his seat at your arrival. “The hell do you want?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Never been better,” he muttered.

You were aware of how he avoided your gaze, and couldn’t know whether it was in an effort to stave off the arousal your presence had so viciously wrought before, or because he simply didn’t appreciate your company. The latter seemed just as likely as the first, though neither stopped you from taking a seat in one of the room’s couches so you could sit across at him.

Your eyes were trained on his face, on the agitation creased into his expression. It was almost indecipherable under his otherwise cold demeanor. Clearly, the quirk was still in effect. If his tried composure wasn’t enough, there was a subtle tent in his pants that hadn’t gone away, not since its first appearance hours ago, you imagined.

You didn’t realize you were ogling until he noticed. He tsked.

“Take a picture,” he offered spitefully, immediately dissuading your eyes away from him.

“Sorry,” you let slip, embarrassment flushing your cheeks, and in response he only lulled his head back again and shut his eyes.

All was silent for a while, and might have remained thereby, if not for the way that the curt apology brought back the weight of guilt you’d felt to see his sorry state.

“And I’m sorry for bringing you back here,” you spoke up. “Or at least, sorry that I called the others. I didn’t realize you’d be held up like this–”

“Stop talking,” he muttered.

Mouth opening, then closing again, you almost swallowed down your next words. But again, they refused to stay unspoken.

“I wouldn’t have called them,” you insisted, “if you didn’t—if you didn’t come after me like that. I was confused.”

No response. Only another uncomfortable shuffle in the chair while his eyes remained shut and his mouth a thin line.

They’d put his hands in a sort of metallic sleeve since you last saw him, to discourage any more pyromania, you guessed. Though they weren’t visible, you could see how his arms shifted, how his tendons worked, and could imagine his fingers flitting anxiously inside the restraints.

“Is… me being here making it worse?” you chanced to ask.

He scoffed, and finally gave you his attention. “What?” Then, fully understanding your train of thought, rolled his eyes, and resigned them shut again while he relaxed into the chair. “Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart, but that dumb look you got on your face all the time isn’t exactly alluring.”

You frowned, and it was almost with cross touchiness that you argued, “But you came after me—”

“I’m guessin’ the point of the quirk is to make anything look fuckable. So don’t flatter yourself.”

Despite all your caution, you couldn’t help but give the man a sour look. “You’re rude.”

He shrugged, the movement impeded considerably by his restraints. “Whatever. Anyways, you just gonna sit there and watch me? I’m not exactly in the mood for company.” He moved in his seat again, fighting the heat between his legs the best he could. “Unless you’re gettin’ off on my suffering and what not. Kinda twisted of you, if you ask me. Didn’t peg you as the type.”

“That’s not it,” you insisted quickly. “I just wanted to…well—”

“To what? Check in on me? Nice of you. But you can fuck off now.”

A sudden twitch in his legs took the tension from the repartee. You looked down at the limb as he did.

The burning heat in his veins took away practically all control he had of his extremities, rallied them into unconscious servants of the damn quirk until they were twitching, then relaxing, then twitching again.

You noticed this, too, and though his efforts to conceal the struggle were commendable, they left you in a state of shame, as if it were you bound in the chair with your arousal on display. Seeing someone so normally composed as he was in such a state was distressing, and admittedly, absorbing.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and let your rampant thoughts form to words. “Will it go away if you…”

“If I what?” Then once understanding, the smallest of smirks twisted his scarred lips. “Rub one out? How the hell am I supposed to know?”

You ignored the heat that dropped down your spine to hear him say it so unabashedly. “I don’t have the key to your locks,” you explained. “So I couldn’t let you out even if I wanted to.”

He gave no response, just looked away from you again.

And here now was the adrenaline pulsing nonsense out of you, making you think crazy and debauched thoughts that would in any other situation be put down immediately by rationale.

“But…”

He glanced at you when you tapered off. “But?”

Your silence annoyed him, now that he was interested. Before he could hound you to continue, you sputtered out your proposal:

“Do you want me to do something about it?”

He looked at you, an eyebrow raised, as if demanding clarification. But you had a resolute feeling that he was toying with you by choosing silence.

“You know what I mean,” you asserted.

The blank, cold stare you received in kind made you wonder if he actually did know what you meant. Maybe he didn’t understand—

“No,” he then said.

The defeat you felt was utterly uncalled for, you knew. But you felt it anyways: a wash of humiliation plummeting down your body and swelling up again in frustration.

But you let it be, knowing anything more you had to say would probably earn you tenfold embarrassment.

Twenty minutes must have passed—though he wasn’t counting, and he wasn’t so sure that the affliction in his body wasn’t twisting his sense of time—each entailing another dredge of painful heat in his groin that worsened the longer his arousal went unattended to.

All the fail safes he’d practiced in his adolescence to ward off unwanted arousals were utterly useless now. He might as well have been on cloud nine when he filled his head with repulsive concepts: the smell of antiseptic, the smell of fish—fucking disgusting fish—even images of roadkill and dead bodies, putrefying and blackened.

The thoughts themselves were off-putting, as promised, but it wasn’t thoughts at all that fueled his libido: it was a completely physical and natural arousal.

Even shuffling his legs around, as meager of friction as it gave, made his hips inch forward in search of more when the fabric of his jeans teased his hard cock. It was fucking humiliating.

He looked at you. You were too occupied searching the floor for an answer to your anxieties to notice the way he studied you.

You weren’t bad looking, he decided. Not that he’d ever really thought of you that way before. Not thoroughly, anyways. In this little group of delinquents he’d surrounded himself with—a grand mistake on his part, he thought, especially during times like these—you were the only fuel he had for his imagination on nights he needed to let off some steam.

There was no intimacy behind it, no real passion for you that extended beyond the time from when he shoved a hand into his jeans, to when he was cleaning thick ropes of cum from his knuckles afterwards.

You were only ever given credence in his brain then, when he was giving his cock hard and angry tugs to the thought of you on your knees for him, or against a wall with his hand curled around your throat, and sometimes bent over his knee while he spanked your ass raw (a more recent daydream now, ever since that time a few weeks ago when you’d bent down in front of him to pick something up off the floor).

Suddenly aware of an alarming change in his body, he paused his thoughts to immerse himself back into his too-hot skin again.

He felt a wetness against his swollen cock, and after squirming covertly, frowned, realizing with loathing that the stickiness chafing his briefs was pre-cum.

He stubbornly decided that it was just an inevitable response to his body’s raging war with arousal, and not—not at all—because he’d been thinking of you.

Letting his body endure until his pants were dampened with pre-cum was an unwanted solution. Or even worse, until the sensitivity in his cock went haywire and even the tiniest of movements might make him cream his pants.

A frustrated breath whistled out from his nose and he grit his teeth. Goddamnit. This was fucking stupid.

“Fuck,” he said aloud, shaking his head as if to condemn the words he was about to say, knowing how they would haunt his ego later, “Fine. Come here.”

You glanced up, and, unable to fulfill the request with your mind suddenly racing, simply stared.

That insipid look of failed registry on your face irritated him, and he scowled. “Are you deaf?”

“You want me to—” A sweep of your eyes down to his crotch elucidated what you were too hesitant to say.

“You offered,” he reminded you, and decided that in order to make this even a fraction less humiliating, he’d need to emphasize your culpability. “Kinda been thinking it’s your fault, anyways. If you hadn’t been such a dumbass back there I would’ve finished the guy off like I wanted to. But you were too busy spouting your nitpicky bullshit.”

There was a guilty look on your face now, like you’d been considering the accusation in your own time. Now having it confirmed, you were more susceptible to the reasoning, and even more willing to rectify yourself.

Still, you struggled to swallow down hesitation. “You’re sure that you want me to—”

“You’re gonna start pissin’ me off if you get all shy,” he said, trying as hard as his dancing nerves would allow to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Since yielding to the ludicrous idea, his body had apparently taken up a premature celebration at the thought of your hands on him. His balls were tight and his dick was throbbing hard enough to make his legs tense with each pulse.

“I just want to make sure,” you insisted. “I mean, if you really–”

“I’ll make it easy for you then. Either get over here, or piss off.”

He was relieved, pleased, and somewhat amused when the hesitation left you and you obeyed. When you came to stand idly in front of him, he glanced up, watching your confusion.

Your eyes flicked from his face to his crotch, where the dim light of the room caught the curve of his hard dick pressing against his jeans.

“You gonna stare at it all day?” he asked.

You looked at him. “What do you want me to do?”

“When you offered to do something about it I assumed you already had some ideas. You need me to give you an instruction manual?”

Your silence frustrated him again, and he tsked, glancing away from you as the reality of what you two were doing finally set in.

“Take it out,” he muttered.

So you did, reaching numbly down and carefully undoing his pants. The bulge that awaited underneath his jeans gave you pause. You stared at it, and a shot of adrenaline pumped through you when it twitched in his briefs, as if feeling your eyes ogling it and begging you to give it attention.

You tried to clear your conscience. This was Dabi, Dabi who treated you with such disregard that you sometimes wondered if he even knew your name; Dabi, who was letting you even breathe next to him without trying to scorch you.

A trickling, somewhat fatally comedic thought entered your mind: was he going to light you ablaze the second you touched him? Or maybe after, once you’d relieved him, as a way to permanently silence you against ever speaking a word of this to anyone?

Shivering at the morbidity of your own creation, you reached for his briefs and pulled them down carefully until his cockhead showed itself, pink-hued and shiny with an excess amount of pre-cum.

You worked a hand underneath the briefs instead of exposing him completely, thinking he might want some semblance of modesty during this. Your convictions were rattled from their mounts when your fingers wrapped gently around the tip of his cock and gave a firm squeeze.

In response: silence.

You’d thought with how viciously his arousal had seemed to harangue him that he might give a stronger reaction: a moan, a sigh, a grunt, maybe even an audible breath.

He just stared at you, looking as utterly bored as he usually did.

Then your fingers decided to retreat, and the sound you’d been displeased to be robbed of came finally as a frustrated grunt when your grip left him.

“Seriously?” he huffed, staring at you. The irritation left its first but considerable split in his composure. The rest was quickly chipping away. He couldn’t pretend to be aloof about this for much longer. “You got cold feet now?”

“That’s not it.”

“What then? Never seen one before?”

“I don't know… how you want it,” you explained.

“The hell does that mean?”

“Do you want me to use my hands?” you clarified hesitantly. “Or…”

The little huff of derisive laughter that fell from his open lips made an eerie picture of his otherwise blank face.

“Or what?” he taunted. “You got something else in mind? You been dyin’ for a taste of it or something–”

“No,” you finished, and that flustered look of anger on your face was pissing him off again, instead of amusing him like it might have under another context.

“So then cut the shit and do whatever.”

With a frown you went to your knees, unwilling to get further embroiled.

When you started to stroke him, more pre-cum squeezed from the tip in generous pumps. You didn’t bother asking him how hard or fast he wanted it—you started hastily, hand gliding quickly over his cock, urgently enough that pre-cum eased the motion and made wet, sharp sounds with every stroke.

His knee twitched like he’d been checked for reflex, which you took as encouragement to keep going despite his loyalty to silence.

The veins along his dick pulsed needily and you swore you could feel the throb under your palm. The throb became more palpable as time went on. You thought you were doing well. But apparently not.

“Harder,” he muttered, not a minute after you’d started.

You glanced up at him. He wasn’t looking at you, but instead had shut his eyes in concentration. It looked to you as though he was trying to find the pleasure in your pace—which was apparently too soft for his likings.

You did as instructed, nevertheless: you tightened your grip a fraction, fingers curling and making your strokes face slightly more resistance as they worked more pre-cum from the red tip.

Another twitch in his leg, then a deep exhale that ended in a shiver; you saw his toned stomach shudder with the motion beneath his clothes, and fleetingly considered inching his shirt up a bit more out curiosity: how far did the burnt skin go down his body?

But then he was grunting, and breathing more stiffly than before. You thought that was another sign of a job well done, when his eyes peeled open and looked down upon you with such emphasized frustration that you realized you were not, in fact, meeting his standards.

“Harder,” he demanded again, more rigidly this time. Despite the command, your hand slowed. For that, he frowned at you. “Can barely feel that shit. You gotta do better than that. I like it rough.”

A flush of humiliation put purpose back into your rigid fingers, and you were moving your hand again, albeit slowly as you tested the new grip, this time with such purposeful pressure that you were tugging his dick now more than stroking it.

“I thought it might hurt,” you started meekly.

“It doesn’t. Keep going.”

You did, picking up speed again. The adrenaline put some more initiative into you, and you made a purposeful attempt to drag your thumb down hard on his swollen cock with every jerk of your hand.

A croaky hum from his throat brought your attention to his face; his eyes watched your hand stroking him with fuzzy scrutiny.

“Yeah,” he breathed thinly, his eyes fluttering closed again, finally satisfied. “Just like that.”

That made your chest tight with excitement and your legs fidget beneath you. Your own arousal was wetting the inside of your thighs by now, but you were able to ignore it momentarily in favor of serving his.

At some point his hips stuttered up to start meeting your hand, but in a much slower rhythm than you were stroking; lazy pumps up into your grip. Every synchronic motion when you jerked up and his hips rolled down, there was an amazing tightness on the head of his cock that made his breath catch every time.

You decided on using both hands (he was big, unexpectedly big, so much so that it was staggering and you decided you would think about that later when he wasn’t filling your palms so generously) and started twisting your grip in time with your strokes. It was then he finally loosed a low and breathy groan.

Then his hips were pumping into your hands roughly, fucking himself in slow but hard thrusts—so hard that you had to steel yourself and tighten your grip to keep from getting bucked off.

Another low moan from his throat. “Shit…” Then, when a surge of confidence urged you to quickly run your tongue along the head of his dick, his breath caught in a hard grunt.

“Shit,” he hissed out, and spread his thighs wider, pushing them up eagerly in demand that you give him more.

To the best of your ability you tried, spreading your tongue underneath the head and rapidly swiping it back and forth. That got his hips stuttering, and his body jolting in its confines.

“Fuck,” he bit out. “Yes, fuck.... Just like that.”

Without prompting your lips came into the fold, closing tightly around the tip and sucking in time with the hands that fisted his cock until you were lavishing every inch of him in some way.

The feeling alone was ridiculously good, but watching you made his jaw go slack and mouth open as he panted. Maybe it was just the stupid quirk making him delirious, but you looked a hell of a lot hotter doing this than what his fantasies had led him to believe. Fuck. You weren’t half bad.

A particularly hard thrust into your mouth had one of your hands slipping loose, and his next thrust, unimpeded by the length of one your fists around him, shoved his dick to the tight heat at the back of your throat.

He grunted hard, “Fucking shit—” Then arched up quickly, jumping at the opportunity to sink his cock deeper.

Without a pause to steady yourself you had little choice but to oblige, and his cockhead shoved in, cramming itself against your hot tongue, pumping farther back inch by inch.

The hand still jerking him off covered what your throat was too inexperienced to swallow down, and the rhythm of your tight mouth and vice-like hand made him moan deeply.

But it might have been too much, and a strength lent to him by the quirk’s desperation made his hips lift off the chair forcibly, driving his cockhead to the very back of your throat until you were sputtering and choking.

“Fuck.” It made him dizzy with pleasure, and he shut his eyes to keep them from rolling as he frantically pumped his hips upwards to get you gagging on him again. “Yeah, fuck, fuck, fuck–”

But then you were pulling off completely with a gasping breath.

His eyes opened, wild with exasperation. “The hell–”

You coughed wetly and started to plead, “Don’t choke me–”

“Fine—fine. Hurry the hell up.” His hips jutted up impatiently in search of your mouth again, his swelling cock bouncing and twitching urgently. “Put that fuckin’ mouth back on it right now—”

You obeyed, and his hips shuddered down into the chair, following the motion of your lips as they tightened over his length—only to start thrusting up into the hot and wet cavern again once his cockhead hit the roof of your mouth.

It was like a fire had been kindled underneath him and was rapidly boiling all his thoughts to a vapor. It was stupidly good, so damn hot and tight and wet he couldn’t remember a mouth on his cock ever feeling this amazing. He wished his hands were free so he could fist them into your hair, so he could push you down more, get you gagging and sputtering on his cock.

His eyes squeezed shut, face flexing with occasional twitches. His lips pulled back into a desperate grimace and long, shaky breaths whistled out through his clenched teeth.

With his vision released of the sight of you on your knees, his mind was free to give the hot wetness on his cock another name, and he instead imagined that it was your pussy he was shoving into, gripping him nice and tight.

He felt his quirk stirring underneath the pleasure; every vein in his body warmed at the mere thought of shoving into you raw, and until that very moment he hadn’t itched to break through his constraints like he did now, hadn’t wanted to be free of them so he could wrestle you to the floor and fuck you like he needed to.

You were doing something particularly creative with your tongue on the underside of his cock, and a full body shudder brought him back to present. He watched you in your task: your eyes were shut tight in concentration, your brows furrowed as you struggled to accept his dick while it rammed against the back of your throat. Even your hand’s grip on his cock was a little tighter, he noticed appreciatively.

It would have been fucking fantastic: a real goddamn sight to see that he might have honestly applauded you for later—if he wasn’t suddenly so absurdly enraptured with his fantasies.

Dabi wanted more. Something deeper and hotter, something to bury his cock into and relish the velvety grip, something he could ravage and fuck away the ache in his body—

The thought of pounding his dick inside of you suddenly encompassed all other thought; it wasn’t a notion his frenzied mind would let remain as a fantasy. He wanted nothing else. Your mouth on his cock, your throat curdling around him, choking on him in a way that made his legs shake...

It was all insufficient now. He needed to be inside of you. As soon as fucking possible.

“Shit,” he spat out. It was a curse different from the others, not breathed on arousal, but frustration.

You looked up at him, and read him to be just as disgruntled as he sounded.

“This ain’t doin’ it,” he said, and slowed his thrusting hips, which was a more hard-fought task to complete than he imagined; he may have been getting greedy with his fantasies, but his cock was still more than happy to use your mouth as a warm sleeve.

When you slipped off, you must have been giving him one of those dumb looks he hated, because he frowned.

“You hear me?”

You nodded, licking the wetness from your lips as you caught your breath. You were lightheaded. The taste of him lingered on your tongue, and you swore you would smell the smoky salt of his skin on you for days. But now there was more?

The heat pooling in your thighs demanded your attention again, and you fidgeted on your sore knees. “Well... what do you want me to do–”

“Sit on it.”

You gawked at him. “Sit on it?”

That got him smirking just a little, his tongue peeking out to wet dried lips as he slowly panted. He cocked his head.

“Worried it won’t fit?”

Your body surged with wild ambition. “That’s not it, but—”

“Bet you’re nice and tight, but you can work it in. I’d offer to stretch you open a little, but my hands are tied.” He flexed his fingers and arms in his binds for show, then grinned to see how flustered his words made you. “Besides, looked like you were enjoyin’ yourself. I’m sure you’re wet enough.”

God why couldn’t he shut up and let you think for a second? The teasing was horribly nauseating; his voice even worse, spoken with his smirk seeped into it. You realized the very sound of it would probably make you shiver now in all the wrong ways after this, even in casual conversation.

“I… don’t have condoms,” you said by way of reply.

He shrugged, the gesture lacking his usual languor now that he’d been worked up without release. “Me neither. They’re annoying.”

He noticed you were frowning at him, and scoffed. “What, not on the pill?” He didn’t wait for a response; maybe that was the heat making him forgo on better judgment. “Well, guess it’s a good thing they got me pinned down, then. You’re free to pull off when I’m about to bust.”

The way in which he spoke it made your stomach queasy, and the first true lick of doubt ruined your mood as you stood up. “Fine. Just… tell me before you’re about to.”

He grunted in response, inwardly absorbed with impatience.

You took off your bottoms and pushed your panties—yes, very wet, you confirmed—down, then hiked a leg over and climbed somewhat clumsily onto the chair.

Only when you’d awkwardly positioned yourself over him did you notice that his eyes were fixated down below, where your hands steadily worked his dick against you. A raspy sigh passed his lips, and it was then you noticed his body teeming with eager spasms.

Awkwardly, you sank down onto him, staring between you two the whole time and watching his thick length press tightly inside.

The binds on his feet jabbed sharply against his ankles as they shuffled for leverage, desperate to rut up into the tight heat that welcomed him—but your legs resting on his thighs kept the movement to nothing but shallow thrusts.

Whatever this fucking quirk was had a ridiculous effect on his sensitivity. You felt good—fucking amazing, even—though he couldn’t decide if that was just the quirk deluding him into thinking your cunt was the best he’d ever had, or if it really was: if you really were just that fucking incredible.

Normally he would have managed that with stilled hips and practiced control; just sat back and enjoyed the ride. But shit it took a monumental effort not to fuck up into you, especially with how damn... slow you were going.

Your pussy was gripping him so nicely, and that tight look on your face as you seated yourself onto his lap, accepting him fully and staggering from the size of him, was thrilling. But when you finally started to move your hips, you were going about it so cautiously, so boringly, that his patience all but thinned in a matter of seconds.

“Could you go any slower?” he muttered.

The words guilted you. “I thought it might… hurt?” you explained.

“How many times do I have to tell you? I’m not in pain, dumbass. I need to cum. Which ain’t gonna happen if you keep this up.” He shuffled his legs, widening them so he could better press up into you. The pressure made him grunt, and you shiver. “C’mon, you were putting on a real good show before. Ride me like you mean it. I know you can.”

And there it was again, the words and the voice that threw repose out the window and made you all the more eager to see this through.

With arms linked around his neck you started to roll your hips. He didn’t seem to mind the contact, helpful as it was in balancing yourself on his lap.

You weren’t entirely surprised when the first sighs and grunts came from your own lips. Every time you thought a new angle of your hips or a quick thrust of his own had finally hit that one pleasurable spot inside, you would sink down harder on his cock and gasp when his thickness dragged over another.

It made you go faster, turned the fluid rolling of your hips into quick grinding, then finally when you’d adjusted to his size, a steady bouncing on his cock.

“Fuck yes...” he muttered, then moaned low, licking his lips; that was what he needed, feeling you sink down over and over, lifting yourself a little higher each time then dropping so hastily that his hips started jutting up to meet you.

“Shit.” Lolling his head back he breathed heavily, deeply. “Ah shit...”

It encouraged you to circle your hips with every motion, which garnered a throaty growl in response. A string of curses under his breath accompanied it, and you pressed your face into his shoulder, keeping careful of his staples, and moaned along with him.

Only when you started getting noisier did you think of anything except what you two were doing: what if Shigaraki or Kurogiri were to come back now? What if any of the others decided to waltz in?

You bit your lip to keep your next few moans low, but you swore Dabi must have had a sixth sense for your timidity, and didn’t at all appreciate the way you were holding back.

He shifted his hips on the chair in a precise motion, and suddenly his cockhead shoved against the right spot over and over again as you bounced on top of him. All your logical thoughts were fucked into the back burner immediately.

All you could hear was your own panting and the slap of your thighs against his. He would give his heedy approval in an occasional growl or moan, rasping it against your ear. It made you shiver uncontrollably.

You lost rhythm soon enough and took to grinding again, the chair scraping along the floor beneath you. His thick cock drove you crazy, until you were panting and moaning and whining. If that wasn’t enough to signal an orgasm, he could feel it, could feel your pussy gripping him in a desperate flutter.

“Oi,” he got your attention, turning his head, his breath thin at your cheek, “You serious? Are you actually gonna–”

And you did, legs stretching and contracting, tightening around his thighs as you came hard. He cursed and dipped his head low when you squeezed around him, panting through the ridiculously good pressure on his cock.

Your body jerked and shivered in any way it could, anything to expel the white-hot pleasure that shot up your spine and then back down again. You couldn’t breathe, shaking on top of him so violently he was sure you were going to keel over at any second and start convulsing on the floor.

“Hey shithead,” he snapped after he’d let your shivers die down. Using what little leverage his tied legs allowed him, he pushed his shoes off the floor, bouncing you impatiently in his lap and jarring you back to awareness. You gasped in hypersensitivity, his cock digging against you.

“I’m flattered you like my dick that much,” he went on, your body languid and slouched against him. The heat was nearing again; his cock twitched miserably inside of you, desperate for release and so damn close to getting it. “But you’re not the one in need of attention here, in case you forgot. Keep it up. I’m close.”

With a moan you pushed yourself up, sucking in breaths of renewal through parted lips. Legs tensing and aching, you tried your best to grind on him again, but the task left you oversensitive.

He needed to finish, you reminded yourself. He needed to cum, like he’d said. You were sure, so blissfully sure you might be rewarded with more of his unhinged reactions that you forced your muscles to be ignorant to their ache, and started to ride him in earnest.

That was when you noticed it: the heat wracking you wasn’t just your own, it was his. His skin too hot, too hot to be normal, furnace-warm to the touch.

You lifted your head from his shoulder and peered over at him. His eyes were screwed shut, his lips pulled back into a tense snarl. Perspiration dewed on the portions of his untainted skin, dampened his brows and fell in droplets along his temple.

You felt his body heating rapidly against yours—the clothes keeping your skin apart might as well have been paper-thin. His chest, rising desperately with heavy pants, was concerningly feverish. He felt it too.

Fuck, he thought. Not fucking now.

“Damn it—” he sputtered out, body going suddenly rigid, craning his neck away from you. “Move,” he warned you.

“What—”

“Move your damn head—”

Just as you did, your eyes stretched in shock as flames broke out from his jawline. Their angry blue reflected threateningly in your eyes, made you come to a shivering slow on his cock as the dry heat blistered out over your skin.

The fire was out in a second, forcefully extinguished with his frustrated grunt; smoke puttered out from beneath his staples instead. He breathed out an angry sigh from the effort of combating his own quirk.

You hesitated to put your hand out and touch him, hovering over his face. “Dabi, your skin—”

“Shut up it’s fine,” he breathed raggedly, turning his head away from you. When was the last time that had happened? Fuck. He made himself believe it was just the quirk. Just the quirk. And not you. Not because you felt so fucking good.

His legs jolted up in desperation to make you move on top of him. “Don’t you fuckin’ stop—shit—I’m almost there—”

You didn’t know whether to be frightened or exhilarated by the display of fire, but you were moving again regardless, bouncing on his lap for all you were worth until your legs were begging for mercy and your lungs ached.

He sucked in tight breaths through his teeth, then exhaled them as gravelly moans. You pressed against him, arms wrapped about his frame, ignoring his sweltering skin and abandoning any fear that his quirk might disobey his control again. You bit your lip and whined excitedly when you felt him bow his head against your shoulder and pant heavily against the clothed skin there.

The heat was fucking blinding now. And it was loud: a numbing and seductive beat in his chest that made his heart stutter to keep up. Every slam of your hips down onto him, and every one of his thrusts up into you in turn, made the heat louder, ache more, and burn.

“Now,” he grit out against your ear, body seizing in warning. In his enclosed binds, his fingers clenched into fists, so hard that the joints popped in protest.

A whine in your throat was the response. You were ignorant to much else except the wetness making a mess of your thighs, of his searing skin against you and his belt buckle digging harshly into your legs.

“Right now,” he sputtered hurriedly, hips rising from the seat. All he could do was shove up into you once, violent and hard, digging his way as deep as he could as his balls went tight and fiery pleasure raced up his body. “Right fuckin’ now move, I’m gonna—goddamnit… fuck!”

He wasn’t prepared for the way you slammed your hips down as you came again with a cry. He stiffened hard, body bowing down into yours as much as the restraints allowed, shoving his face into your neck.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped out, “fuck—” You shivered wildly around him and in an instant he was cumming hard, legs jolting in their restraints, shaking under your thighs.

“Fuck!” he shouted again, the exclamation muffled against your skin. “Motherfucker—fuck—” His voice puttered off into a series of strained, frantic groans. Unthinking and delirious on pleasure, he closed his mouth around the soft flesh of your neck and bit hard.

You gasped, tried to wriggle free, but his hips were desperately snapping up into you, effectively throwing off your balance.

Your hips hadn’t stopped their determination either. They had a mind of their own, rutting fast to squeeze him dry. All the while, he growled hotly against your skin, teeth leaving deep marks, sucking blemishes into the flesh despite all restraint that told him otherwise.

After the last, hard spurts inside of you, he sank back into the chair, utterly wasted. Little spasms harassed his body and made him shiver weakly. Only his mouth persevered, teeth still digging into the soft flesh of your shoulder.

The pleasure ebbed into raw sensation, and you could feel the marks his incisors left in you, the heated metal of his staples singeing you.

“Dabi,” you stuttered out, a shaky hand coming to push at his forehead in protest.

It shook him back to reality. He brought his dizzy head back to look at you through hooded eyes, then down at the wound he’d left on your neck.

Shit, he thought fleetingly, but not very regrettably. That was gonna bruise.

He put his head back against the chair and heaved, shutting his eyes to dispel the lightheadedness.

“Told you... to get off,” he muttered.

You knew it was a mistake you would dwell on later, but you could barely move now, let alone think.

When you shifted your legs, wanting to move and put some blood back into your limbs, it set off a chain reaction of oversensitive-pleasure; dwindling sparks went off inside you and you shuddered, making him jerk and grunt in tandem.

“Don’t move,” he chided, his head still bent to the ceiling. “Just gimme a minute... Fuck...” he breathed. “You fuckin’...” He shook his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that you’d been the one to give it to him.

Then he thought: he wouldn’t need to conjure up fantasies of you anymore when he was getting himself off. He could go by memory now.

Once he’d regained partial composure, he shifted, glad to find his dick was going limp—fucking finally—inside of you.

“You got a way to take care of that?” he asked, leaning back and looking down at the wet mess between both your thighs.

You blinked, hazy. “What?”

“I’m not tryna knock you up just ‘cause you’re too horny to listen,” he said disdainfully. “You on the pill? Gotta get one of those morning-afters otherwise–”

“It’s fine.” You nodded. “Don’t worry.”

It was easier said than done, he thought to himself sourly. But he was having trouble thinking of much else besides how fucking fantastic it was to feel the arousal leaving him in blissful waves.

He took a heavy breath. “Now get off and get me outta this shit.”

“But you might still be…” You wriggled a little on top of him, felt him soft inside of you. It was uncomfortable, but even if you’d wanted to move, your muscles were spent. “What if you’re still… ”

“Still what? Still horny? Bet you’d like that, wouldn't you?”

You wouldn’t let the comment fluster you, and obeyed as a way to prove him wrong, slowly lifting yourself off of him. The ache of your insides as he slipped out was raw and hot and wet, but unmistakably satisfying.

“Let me out,” he demanded again. “Now.”

“I told you I don’t have the key.”

He sighed in frustration, blinking sweat from his eyes. “Then go get Kurogiri. Go get someone. And at least be nice enough to cover me up. Don’t want my dick hanging out.”

It was shiny, wet, and red from stimulation. When you went to tuck it back in his pants, it twitched.

“Oi, clean it first,” he snapped.

You glanced around. “With?”

“Whatever the hell’s lying around. Shirt, rag, your mouth.” He scoffed when you put on a frown. “Don’t give me that look. This is your mess on my dick, ya know.”

With barely contained insolence you went down shakily on your knees, ready to go about the particularly humiliating task, when he laughed dryly under his breath.

“You’re a real slut,” he muttered, looking down on you with a cheeky smirk, “aren’t you?”

That guaranteed your spite, and you stood up just as quickly as you’d gone down, then nudged his still-messy dick into his pants and zipped them closed.

“Oi, oi—” The wetness squished uncomfortably underneath the fabric and he shifted awkwardly, glaring at you. “You fuckin’ serious?”

“You’ll be fine,” you muttered, turning away from him in search of your clothes, hiding an indulgent smile.

As you redressed, he sneered and pulled at his bindings. “Don’t get smart with me.”

“Or what?”

You were too exhausted to wrangle with his temper, or your own self-preservation; you knew it was a dangerous game to tease him. But you couldn’t help it. Your mind was foggy, your body teeming with giddy pleasure. Not to mention, you were free. He wasn’t. And that was remarkably funny.

Now he was scowling. “You little shit. Letting it all go to your head now, huh?” When you didn’t answer, when he caught a flash of your teasing smile, his frustration started to run rampant. “Not gonna be so funny when I’m out of this shit—”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

In response, he just glowered, and despite the front you were trying to put up, it threw an excited shiver down your spine. You were perilously tempted to egg him on, but decided against it.

You pulled your shoes back on and breathed, looking at him with something that resembled soft smugness. “I’ll go find Kurogiri.”

“Yeah, you fuckin’ better,” he muttered under his breath, keeping his critical eye-contact with you up until the very moment you disappeared out of his line of vision.

When he heard your footsteps finally dwindle down an adjacent hall, he let out a long-suffering sigh and tilted his head back. “Fuck.”

The quirk had gone, the heat and arousal with it.

But what hadn’t gone were the thoughts of you.

Angry thoughts, confusing thoughts, and most of all, intriguing thoughts.

#dabi x reader #dabi imagines #bnha x reader #dabi

3K notes · View notes

get-shiggy-with-it · 3 years

Text

Ch. 6 - Epilogue

18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: nudity, smut but make it softish, oral reader receiving, praise cause Shigs is such a good boy, but he's still an asshole, he's just your asshole, Shiggy likes to fall asleep suckin those tits

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6

Summary: In which the crusty disaster roommates both get into something much better than each other.

AO3 Mirror

Taglist: @dillybuggg @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @narcolepticroses

Tomura woke about an hour later, dick finally soft and tangled in a knot of limbs with you on his bed. You’d stretched and let him kiss you without asking, accepting his tongue on yours just as easily as you had before.

After detangling yourself from him, you left to take a shower and Tomura found that he couldn’t bare the notion of being apart from you for more than twenty minutes now even more than he couldn’t fucking stand showering, so he’d joined you anyway.

You didn’t talk much and neither did he, but it was that same comfortable silence you’d formed in your little study room hideout. He let you drag him under the spray just long enough to wash most of the jizz and spit from his thighs before he stepped back to lean on the tile and watch as you rinsed yourself.

Only once did you mention the rough, scaly skin on his neck and face. Your hand was gentle, roving over the cracks and asking him if he’d tried any soap for sensitive skin. That yours was like that too and you’d let him borrow some to try out. He blushed at the implication of seeing you again after this.

It was well past midnight when you toweled off and dried him as well. He lent you one of his few clean t-shirts and you wore it without any underwear. Tomura shameless stared at your bare ass when you bent over to strip the ruined blanket with his favorite character's trademark smiling face from his bed.

He thought about burying himself in you again, and because he hadn’t dressed yet—and you didn’t push him away when he pressed against you—he did.

As naturally as anything, Tomura gripped lightly at your hips, kneeling between your legs to lap lightly at your folds. It was a new sensation but it lit a fire in his gut. You painted his face with that delicious fucking slick that spilled from your cunt and Tomura couldn't help but stand and start grinding against the cleft of your ass.

You moaned for him again when he fucked you from behind, just as rough as before—a hand in your hair, yanking your neck up so he could litter kisses and bites across your skin—but it all came easier the second time around.

You came easier too, helping him along still and cumming hard with your back to his chest and your cheeks pressed together.

While he panted against your newly dirtied skin, he breathed you in, and as that fucking familiar ass scent washed over him, he knew he’d never get tired of it.

You told Tomura, later—when you were both exhausted again and stained with release—that he was kinda a natural at this and something about the praise really got to him.

“You’d fucking know,” he snipped at you, curled on his side with his face in your tits.

This was his new favorite position, he’d decided and he snickered at the thought of planting his head right in your chest while you were both in class. He’d pay money to see the horrified look on your prim fucking face.

“Yes I would,” you hummed into his hairline, mouthing softly at the baby curls around his crown. “So, when are you gonna take me out?”

Tomura felt the loading circle of death spinning in his brain for a moment. Like a 404 error had occurred somewhere in amongst his neural pathways.

“I thought you said you were a slut?” he asked and almost immediately wished he could quit the game, even if it meant he had to replay all the scenes before this moment.

But you didn’t pull away.

You really never do.

He thought idly that you both must have some weirdo bug making you enjoy all the disgusting bits of the other.

“Well yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t take me on a date if that’s something you’d like,” you chuckled and he felt your chest rise with it and the breath on his forehead.

He nestled his face deeper into your tits, “yeahsurefinewhatever.”

The lips pressed to his head smiled, but you didn’t say anything again for a long time. Not until both of you were drifting off for the second time, falling into the trap of shared body heat and the odd human craving of skin against skin.

“Your freaky roommate isn’t going to walk in right?”

Tomura grumbled, lifting your shirt to mouth at your nipple and suckling softly, “No, you’re mine now, he can’t have either of us.”

You signed contentedly for a moment, moaning lightly as he swiped his tongue over your sensitive skin before the words caught up to you.

“Wait, what?”

“Nothing, go to sleep.”

You didn’t push it any farther, or try to remove Tomura from his sucking at your tits. It was quite possibly the most peaceful night of sleep he’d ever gotten, which only ensured the fact that you would never be allowed to sleep anywhere else ever again.

This was your responsibility now, after all, and you fucking loved responsibility so he didn’t see any problems with it.

Shockingly, Tomura did let you leave the next morning to grab some things from home and change clothes. He watched you walk down the sidewalk from his window and only meandered back into the kitchen when you turned a corner out of sight and the front door slammed open.

Dabi was plopped on the couch when he ventured out, shirtless and absolutely covered in hickeys. Tomura would have commented on it, but he knew he didn’t look much better and didn't want to invite the comparison.

“What the hell got into you, creep?” Dabi asked incredulously, leering from the cushions, looking him up and down.

“I got into bitch (endearing),” he cupped his hands to form parenthesis in the air and grabbed a Monster from the fridge.

Dabi gaped, pushing himself up and not so subtly limping over to cage him against the counter, “No you fucking did not.”

“Did so,” Tomura shot back, knocking his shoulder roughly into Dabi’s chest so he could stalk back into his room. “Looks more like someone got into you.”

You’d put him in such a weirdly pleasant mood, he really didn’t want to give that up, but Dabi was persistent, the bastard.

“We got into each other,” Dabi said, flopping down on Tomura’s bed and ruining your scent on his sheets, “No fucking way you had the balls dude.”

Impulsively—in part because he really needed the ego boost of proving Dabi wrong and to convince himself as well that last night (and this morning) had really happened—Tomura whipped out his phone, flashing the pretty picture of you choking on his dick right into that smug asshole's face.

The fucking grin only grew wider.

“I’ll be fucking damned,” he stood from the bed to get a closer look, but Tomura locked the screen quickly and shoved it back in his pocket. “How much did you have to pay them?”

“I don’t know what you have to do to get some,” Tomura scoffed, “but mine was free.”

Dabi looked like he had something smart to say back to that but Tomura didn’t want to hear it.

“Get out,” he called over his shoulder as he took Dabi’s place on his bed, inhaling the little wisps of you left over on the cotton.

God he was never gonna wash these.

“Aw, don’t wanna give me all the details?”

He peaked up at Dabi, leaned against his doorframe.

“No, I have to get dressed,” he paused before the next words that left his mouth, hiding his face in the pillow so Dabi wouldn’t see the furious red of blood rushing to his cheeks. “I have a date later.”

#tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura x reader #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #bee.writes

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kirishibi · 4 years

Text

The L Word | Dabi

Summary: Dabi’s scared of the big bad L word

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Warnings: cursing, vulnerable burnt boi, soft angst, fluff, one (1) butt touch, one (1) nose boop

Word Count: 1.3k

a/n: the first fic ever written on my brand new laptop woohoo!! sorry I'm writing angst once again, but it gets cute and shit at the end I'm not out to break hearts tonight i promise!💕

p.s. this fic hits harder if you subscribe to the dabi is a todoroki theory js

“I love you.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Five simple words squashed what little courage you had built up in order to make that confession.

Calloused fingers flicked a still-lit cigarettebutt onto the ground beside your feet. Bright orange embers faded out to nothing, drowned in the same icy puddle that soaked through the cracked soles of your shoes and chilled you to the bone. Chattering teeth found your chapped bottom lip and bit down hard enough to taste iron. Your eyes fell to the worn concrete beneath frigid feet, but not before Dabi’s disappointed gaze burned itself into your memory.

“Way to kill the conversation.” He tsked, annoyed, his weight shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. You studied his footprints in the autumn leaves lining the pavement, hoping any distraction could dry the tears burning your eyes.

You learned that day that Dabi hated the L word.

----------

Dabi’s warm arm wrapped around your torso, pulling you flush against his chest. Your apartment’s heater had decided to break on the coldest night of the year. Even bundled up in a hoodie and two blankets, you were shivering. It wasn't all bad, though. The bitter cold gave you an excuse to glue yourself to your lover’s side.

“Ya know, if you had a fire quirk or somethin’ I wouldn’t have to do this,” a gravelly voice muttered into your ear, hot breath warming nearly-frozen skin. Though he feigned irritation, the way his soft lips peppered kisses along the nape of your neck betrayed his words entirely.

“Hmmm,” you pretended to ponder for a moment, “you're right, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t have an excuse to hold me so closely either.”

The arm around your waist tightened. Sharp teeth clamped down onto the supple skin at the crook of your neck, hard enough to leave a mark but not to hurt you. Dabi knew your limits well and, while he loved to toe the line, he never overstepped. You felt a deft tongue dance along the fresh indents left in your skin, then a final kiss before he spoke again, “Guess it’s better this way then, huh?”

“Guess so.” The springs of your one-person mattress whined as you rolled over to face him. A smirk had already seated itself on your lover’s lips by the time you settled beside him, resting your head on your shared pillow. He took full advantage of your new position, two large palms snaking downward and grabbing greedy handfuls of your ass. You rolled your eyes halfheartedly, but made no effort to swat them away.

One hand carded through inky black hair as your other began tracing Dabi’s features. A year ago, at the start of your relationship, he would have swatted them away, harshly scolding you about personal space. Now, though, he couldn’t get enough of your touch.

Your index finger drew a line down the mild curve in the bridge of his nose, stopping when you reached the tip and lightly ‘boop’ing him. He forced a frown at your playful gesture, but the slight upturn at the corners of his lips told you it was superficial. Your fingertips travelled along pallid cheekbones, lightly dusting over worn staples as you traced the outline of his scarring.

Half-lidded cobalt eyes watched your expression intently. He waited patiently for a grimace, a wince, for any sign of the disgust he’d grown accustomed to seeing when people looked at him so up-close. You did none of those things, though. Your gaze was soft, expression blissful. The way you looked at him conveyed only adoration. There was a hint of something entirely foreign, yet incredibly kind behind your eyes, and it made him uneasy in the best way possible. In moments like these, you almost made Dabi question the bitter way he’d viewed the world until that point. Almost.

“I love you.” Your soft voice pulled him back to reality like a dagger to his heart. It had been months since your first and only attempt to tell him how you felt, and deep down, you had hoped that during that time his answer may have changed.

“Don’t do that to yourself.” He pulled away from you completely, standing from the bed. The absence of his touch and harshness of his tone left you feeling empty, dejected. Dabi covered his face with his hands in exasperation, cursing under his breath behind scarred palms as he stepped away from the mattress.

Your heart sank.

Before, you hadn’t wanted to press the topic further. His words had cut you deep, his subsequent anger only serving to salt the wound. Now, though, you couldn’t help but ask, “why not?”

A long sigh resonated from somewhere deep within your lover as he lowered his hands from his face, roughly shoving them into his pants pockets. Indignant eyes glared at you as he propped himself against the timeworn, brick wall across your small mess of a room. Dabi’s angry gaze was something you very rarely found yourself on the receiving end of, but when you did, it shook you to your core.

“You’re just gonna get let down in the long run,” he stated, as if the words were a simple fact. “People are disappointing, and good things fall apart.”

Scooting to the edge of your mattress, you allowed your legs to dangle from the side nearest to him as you processed his words.“You have a really pessimistic view of the world, you know that?”

The fire in Dabi’s eyes softened, if only for a moment. “When you’ve seen what I have, you learn pretty damned fast that being happy means being vulnerable, and if you love someone, they’ll leave you.”

Hearing the man you cared for so deeply utter those words devastated you. You felt your brow furrow, your frown deepen. One question burned at the forefront of your mind, though you were terrified to hear the answer. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced it out regardless. “Are you going to leave me?”

His lips pulled to a thin, flat line as he pondered for a moment. It didn’t look as if the decision itself required much thought, but rather that he was eliminating any doubt. He hadn’t expected to find his response so immediate, let alone entirely uncontested. After a brief pause he shook his head ‘no’.

“So, why can’t you just accept that I love you? Even if you don’t feel the same way-”

He cut you off.

“I do. That’s the problem.” His gaze turned downcast, shoulders slumping in defeat. He lowered himself to sit on your water-damaged wooden floor, his back still pressed against the wall as his elbows rested on bent knees. Never before had you seen him so unguarded, so vulnerable.

Your heart shattered, even as you heard the half-confession you’d been yearning for so desperately. You slid off the bed to kneel in front of him, and took a large hand into your own. His eyes didn’t budge from the floor, but his fingers gripped yours tightly.

You didn’t know what to say, but that was okay. The silence was filled for you.

“Life was so much easier when everyone was just a pawn and it didn’t matter whether I lived or not. Apathy was the best drug I’d ever tried until you came along.” Dabi’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, expression charged with a soft sincerity you’d never seen from the man before, but absolutely adored. “Promise me that you’re here to stay. Anybody else could bounce in a second and I wouldn’t give a fuck, but with you… I don't know what I would do.”

“I’m never leaving you, Dabi. Never.”

He lowered his knees and pulled you into his lap, your thighs straddling his. Patchwork hands cupped your cheeks as he gently leaned his forehead against yours. “I fucking love you, (Y/n). Don’t ever forget that.”

#dabi #league of villains #dabi x reader #dabi angst #dabi fluff #dabi sfw #dabi bnha #bnha x reader #bnha fluff #bnha angst #mha x reader #dabi mha #kiri writes #angst #fluff #lov x reader #lov bnha #lov

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harveywritings92 · 3 years

Text

MHA/BNHA: They get severely injured and you heal them

You're recovery Girl's granddaughter you have a healing quirk called Angel's Glow, which requires skin on skin contact to work, small wounds, bruises and bone fractures are healed in seconds just by placing your hands on the injured area which will glow blue and repair damage, however wounds that are near fatal are different story. In that case, it’s kind of embarrassing, but you treat it how you would hypothermia, stripping down to your panties (or naked) and lay down holding that person close letting your healing aura cover them, of course you've never been in a situation where you've had to do that, pretty much keeping it reserved for your romantic partner, So when you got a call that your boyfriend was severely injured in a fight and his chances of survival aren't looking to good.

__________________

Fatgum/Taishiro:

Reader's age 26.

The last thing Taishiro remembered was fighting this crazy strong villain with an equally strong quirk! So, one can imagine his confusion when the last thing he remembered before blacking out; was fighting as Fatgum and then waking up after who knows how long as Fitgum and in a stranger's bedroom hooked up to a very annoying heart monitor that would not. stop. beeping! Taishiro slowly sat up; with a grimace expecting to feel pain shooting all throughout his body the second he moved, but to his astonishment nothing happened...

He was sure his left leg was broken during that fight! he cautiously wiggled his toes and jerk his left leg around, nothing no pain... in fact he felt great; giddy like he had just eaten an entire buffet of his favorite foods! But how did... His train thought was cut short when he felt an slender arm around his waist.

Taishiro suddenly became hyperaware of the other person, a woman. laying in the bed next to him! His heartrate spiked causing the monitor to start beeping rapidly!

The blond carefully reached over and gently pushed the woman's hair away from her face, the BMI hero felt a wave of relief wash over him upon seeing the calm sleeping face of his girlfriend Y/n starring back at him. But the relief quickly shifted to befuddlement, why was she here? he then noticed their apparent lack clothes, His yellow eyes widened and felt his face burn; Taishiro swallowed hard as he checked under blanket... why were they just wearing boxers and panties?

Spotting a some of his spare clothes in Y/n's closet, Taishiro quietly and carefully got out of the bed; unplugged the Heart monitor before taking it off, and got dressed in his track pants and T-shirt, then careful got Y/n dressed in one of his hoodies before tucking her into bed, Just as Recovery-Girl popped her head in to check on them as she couldn't hear the monitor beeping anymore, and got worried she smiled seeing her *hopefully* soon to-be Grandson-law alive and healthy.

"Oh thank goodness you're awake..."

"Yeah, I jus' woke up. Sorry for intruddin."

"It's nothing to be sorry for, though I'm sure you're confused how you aren't in a coma or dead."

"...What happened to me?"

Recovery-girl gave him the run down after he was put out of commission, Taishiro was in pretty bad shape, the out come was looking grim when Y/n ordered the ambulance be redirected to her private-practice which also doubled as her home, they got got one of her intern's to use their quirk which could burn off his fat, they cleaned his cuts and got him stitched up then the y/ht woman told everyone to go home; save for her grandmother and Kirishima who refused to leave his mentor until he was sure hew was going to be alright.

it was only when he saw Y/n taking her clothes off did the flustered teen ask about those guest rooms, she offered and recovery- Girl lead him out of the room, the y/ht woman slipped into bed next her her unconscious lover and activated her quirk, Tai's whole body was soon surrounded in veil of blue light that slowly started to repair and heal his broken body.

Taishiro smiled gently as he caressed Y/n's cheek making her wince in her sleep. "The poor thing must be exhausted over using her quirk for two days." the pride the tall man had felt to shifted into concern. "two days?!" he croaked he remembered Y/n telling him that her quirk can also transfer her patients pain onto her to the lessen their burdens, and if he was in really bad shape as recovery-girl described... "Is she gonna be okay?" he asked voice cracking, the old nurse frowned knowing that her granddaughter told him about her quirks pain absobtion. "Well, the next couple days won't be very pleasant for her, I may have to keep her sedated." the blond eyes started to burn as he watched Y/n sleeping soundly, vowing stay by her side and to take her on very nice vacation when this was all over, they could both use it.

_______________________

Shoto Todoroki:

Reader age 21, Shoto: 19

This poor touch-starved child was so confused and flustered when he woke up in a strange bed, wearing nothing but his boxers and y/n clinging to him very intimately, all while alarm-bells were going off in his head as part on his mind was still in fight or flight mode as he cautiously scanned his girlfriend expecting this to be a dream, and the villain that attacked him to pop-out at any moment...

After a few moments of waiting for the dream to end, Shoto cautiously used his fire to burn himself he winced feeling the pain burn his wrist, then the pain went numb the bi-colored haired man's brows furrowed before seeing the familiar blue aura from [y/wt] woman's quirk reverse the damage on his wrist, Shoto's stomach churred as realized what she had done, he carefully removed himself from the warm embrace of her bed and looked around the room for something to wear before spotting some a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt left out for him, he changed then carefully got his girlfriend dressed into her PJs and her tucked in.

Shoto was the picture of calm as he kept a silent vigil over the [y/hc] woman carefully playing with her hair, but internally he was freaking out! Wondering how long had he been out for? and how long had Y/n been healing him? was she going to be okay?! he grimaced at he saw her wince in her sleep; even a blind man could see she was already suffering from the effects of over using her quirk! "Why would you do something so foolish?" he sighed using his cold half to keep Y/n's forehead cool he felt her temperature spike. "Love makes you do very rash decisions." Shoto jumped to see Recovery-Girl behind him and the dual quirked boy immediate bowed his head to her in forgiveness.

"Don't do that Todoroki, you don't need to apologize."

"But because me Y/n is..."

"It's not you're fault dear, Y/n knew the risks as soon as she heard you were in critical condition."

"How long were we like that?" he asked asked dreading the answer Recovery-Girl frowned as she checked her granddaughter's vitals over. "Four days, I won't lie the next couple days won't be kind to my Granddaughter." She saw Shoto wince knowing the guilt eating at him. "But knowing she has a handsome young man looking after her, should help her make a speedy recovery.~" the room's temperature suddenly spikes as a blush adorned Shoto's cheeks Recovery-Girl giggled jubilantly as she left the room leaving Y/n in Shoto's care.

____________________

Touya/Dabi:

Reader age 25 (note you're quirk can't heal his scars (you've tried) you were childhood friends with him, he kidnapped you and keeps you in his safehouse!)

Dabi woke up that morning with a splitting headache, crap how much did he have to drink? he growled taking a sharp breath as his eyes adjusted to his dimly lit bedroom, trying to piece together what happened last night, when he caught something blue in the dim light at first he thought it was his quirk acting up, but then he noticed some of his staples were missing around his stomach...

The it all came flooding back to him one of the Nomus had gotten lose before it could be "trained" and went on a rampage the villains and a couple heroes on the league payroll stropped it, but not without consequences, the beast managed to take a bite out of Dabi's waist, the scarred man somehow managed to make it home... walking through the front door was the last thing he remembered before blacking out, then he felt his stomach drop when he realized that this blue glow wasn't his flames!

Dabi quickly turned the light on above his bed and found a sleeping Y/n hugging his waist her quirk overworking itself trying to fix his scars, which weren't healing because the tissue was to damaged to fix, "You idiot!" he barked getting out of bed, then paused when he felt a rush cold air on his everything, his teal eyes looked down... Yep, naked as the day he was born, he cussed and checked under the thin sheet Y/n had covered them in, same story.

He check her temperature she was freezing! "Tch" Dabi quickly readjusted the sheet around his girlfriend's shivering body then went and put on some black sweat pants, he quickly went to drawers and grabbed a pair of boxers and a t-shirt and put those on his y/ht girlfriend, then grabbed the discarded blanket from off the floor covering the couple.

Dabi used his quirk to boost up his body temp while rubbing Y/n’s arms trying warm her up. the last thing he needed was her getting sick, however he paused his ministrations and checked his burner phone... shit it been 2 days since the incident! He had a lot of messages from the league demanding to know where he was, He should probably get around to telling them he's alive... meh, maybe after Y/n recovered those f-ckers will live.

#boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #fatgum x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #dabi x reader #boku no hero x reader #my hero academy fanfiction #Healer! reader

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guro-giri-letters · 3 years

Note

imagine... the dabi hair dye scenario but one of the league finds/sees him and decides to help? my heart

(SO, I totally meant this to be shorter but I got a little in my feels. Plus the lowkey Dabi and Mr Compress friendship is so underrated, I adore it. Anyway, here it is, a little comfort fic.)

The Boy Can't Cry - By Guro. ♡

/Dabi gets overwhelmed dying his hair to cover up his past and Mr Compress comes to his aid. Any fics like this where it’s just the league interacting together I’m going to lovingly tag ‘League of Family’. Hope you enjoy! ♡/

/Tags l Tw ; Dabi being emotionally unstable, some cursing, Mr Compress being fatherly, friendship, league of family. ♡/

“How can a man head a group of villains…” Sako murmurs aloud to himself, pulling another card from the messy pile upon the small table between his knees. Sighing, he flicks it into one of several other smaller piles he’s made around the main one, tsk-ing to himself quietly. “...but he can’t keep a pack of cards together. Really.”

Pure boredom, and an inability to get himself over to sleep, is what inspired one Mr Compress to take up and look through Shigaraki’s deck. It’s late in the night now, maybe early morning, and he’s sorting each of the cards into their respective groups by lamplight. It’s a comfortable, mindless task, the showman dressed down to his shirtsleeves and balaclava. In the rare quiet he lets his mind wander, and wonders where Shigaraki had gotten the cards from.

Had he stolen them? Or were they given to him? Gifts from his master, maybe. Either way dearly cherished, he decides, running his thumb over the faded face of an ace of hearts. He’s pondering still when the quick tip-tap of feet on metal steps reaches his ears.

“Mr Compress!”

Blinking, he lays down his hand and turns to find Toga halfway down the rickety staircase, hand cupped around her mouth dramatically as she whisper-yells. Her eyes are big and wide in the dim light, uncharacteristically appearing almost… frightened? What? Right away Sako is on edge, cards forgotten. “What is it dear?” He asks, lowering his own voice in response to her whispers. His worry only grows as Toga’s lips seem to tremble, looking over her shoulder before back to her elder.

“It’s Dabi…” She replies quietly, hugging her arms around her nightdress-clad self. “Somethings wrong with Dabi.”

Sako isn’t sure what he’s seeing at first as he nudges in the bathroom door. Toga is at his back, gripping his sleeve and peering around his side as the door falls slowly open. The old tiled room is lit by dim, yellowed light, and he can just make out Dabi’s shape hunched over the tub at the far end. “He keeps talking to himself-” She murmurs, only to jump at the sound of an open growl, Dabi’s form twisting to glare over his shoulder in their direction from the shadows.

“Get out, Toga.” The burnt man snarls, sending the girl flying away without hesitation. Sako watches her go, a little shocked at her fear in the face of her own comrade. Dabi doesn’t even seem to be looking right at the doorway, stark blue eyes wide and lost. Vacant. Thick, inky black lines run down his face and throat, dripping off of his chin. What the hell is he doing?

“What’s going on, man?” Sako demands, crossing the threshold and approaching Dabi where he kneels. “What’s gotten into you? You’re scaring Toga.”

“Fuck you.” Dabi snaps back, fingers digging into his hair. The same black sits in smudges over the back of his neck, staining his pale fingers. In the dark it almost seems like the villain has been infected, taken over by some dark, miasmic mess. Squinting up, Sako reaches and with a gloved hand, twists the hanging bulb around in it’s socket. Suddenly the room is filled with brighter light, everything coming into focus, and he looks down at Dabi.

His eyes widen a fraction.

Dabi’s coat lies discarded on the dingy floor at his side, the villain kneeling, almost unnaturally bent over the shallow bathtub. His body is shaking, chest expanding and falling rapidly as he scrapes at his own scalp. His hands are trembling, veins visibly risen up on their backs. It seems like he’s working the blackness into his hair almost desperately, hushed words falling barely audible from his lips. “-away. Get away.”

“Dabi?” Sako tries again. And this time he gets a reaction; Dabi’s head twisting to glare in a manner almost animalistic. The black has run in streams down his face and into his eyes, scleras bloodshot deep red and burning. He can’t even see right now, Sako realises, without the ability to produce tears to get rid of the chemicals. Being so close for the first time, he takes note of the sparse, white hairs appearing in his league-mates' thin brows. Oh.

“Get out, Compress. Get out-”

“Do you need help?” He ignores Dabi’s demands easily. The young man isn’t himself right now, and his voice is hoarse, even more gravelly than usual. In response to his question Dabi’s hands clench in his hair, tight, tendons bulging as his knuckles turn white. Sako can hear the strands tearing and grabs for Dabi’s quivering hands. “Good God, man. Stop it!”

“Get off of me!” Dabi practically howls, twisting out of the older man’s grip and slipping, slumping shoulder-first against the side of the tub. He seems to deflate all at once, his head hanging low. Sako can only stare at him, his heart pounding with adrenaline and hands still outstretched, Dabi’s breath comes quick and loud, his own hands coming up to cover his face. He’s an utter mess, what Sako has now deduced to be black dye staining his hands, shirt. Everything. A stretch of silence passes between them, and then Dabi makes the last noise his companion expected to hear.

For a moment he thinks Dabi is laughing, finding some kind of twisted amusement in all of this. But then it starts coming louder, his shoulders shaking, chest and throat convulsing uncontrollably. A dry, hacking cough leaves his throat before he presses his palms harder against his face, knees pulling in close to his body. A noise like barely concealed sobbing reaches Sako’s ears.

He’s crying.

Well… no, the boy can’t cry. He knows this; Dabi’s tear ducts have been damaged beyond repair for years now. But his body still betrays him, shuddering through bouts of broken weeping, dredged up from somewhere deep inside of him. It feels almost wrong, Sako thinks, to see him so vulnerable. It’s clear he’s witnessing something deeply personal. A moment of distress so jarring that Dabi holds fast onto his own arms and curls in on himself, almost like he’s trying to comfort himself.

Almost like he’s done this a hundred times before.

The feeling of Sako’s arm wrapping around his shoulders makes Dabi jerk, looking up with bleary eyes as he stoops down to his level. “What are you doing?” He snaps weakly, but there’s no real conviction in it. His nose is running, his voice broken up. Whatever kind of mental breakdown Dabi is currently having, the older man simply can’t bring himself to leave him. Doesn’t want to leave him to fall apart on his own.

“Quiet.” He admonishes, crouching before Dabi and pulling him closer bodily, so that his head comes to rest on Sako’s shoulder. Still breathing raggedly, Dabi stares at a space somewhere on the wall beyond Sako’s shoulder for a while before his eyes close, a worn out sigh leaving his lungs in pieces. No attempt is made to shove him away this time. He gives in.

At one point in his life, another entertainer had told Sako that when a child hugged them, they should never be the first to let go. ‘Because you never know how badly they might need it’, they had said. Keeping his arms around Dabi and remembering that message, he tightens his grip a touch, resigning himself to remaining in a crouch and getting sore knees. Not that Dabi is willing to be held for very long. He pulls away with a sniff, hand on Sako’s shoulder to keep himself steady. “Fuck- my eyes.”

He’s not wrong. His eyelids are irritated and swollen, both his regular skin and the grafts beneath. Sighing, Sako loosens his grip and lets Dabi lean back, against the side of the tub. “Put your head over.” He advises, straightening to his feet and pulling off his ruined gloves.

“Why?” Dabi rasps.

“To wash the chemicals out of your eyes, Dabi.”

Dabi considers this with a glance at the dirty tiles then nods his head once. He looks, to put it in a word, drained, straightening himself up and turning to rest his elbows on the tub's edge. Sako watches him as he finishes rolling up his sleeves, shaking his head slightly.

“Where on earth do you young people find the energy to get so worked up?” He chides, not cruelly, turning the faucet and cupping his hand beneath the sluggish flow of water. With his free hand he brings Dabi’s head over the lip of the tub with a nudge, and brings his cupped hand to the fire-user's face. Dabi hisses but doesn’t recoil as Sako rinses the remnants of dye from his face and eyes, pausing only to say; “I’ll do your hair.” and washing the remainder from his unruly mane. His skin will stain for a while, but it’ll wash away in time. He’ll be alright.

To his credit, Dabi has stopped shuddering and seems to be slowly coming down. Slumped against the lip of the tub he lets out a long, slow breath, sniffing and wiping his nose on his forearm. “I feel like I’m gonna throw up.”

“Hold it, I’m almost done.”

With the sting in his eyes finally dulling, Dabi cracks them open halfway to watch the blue-black water flow down the drain. His throat feels suddenly raw, aching. His face hurts.

“Compress.” It hurts to talk. Jesus.

Sako shuts the water off when Dabi’s hair is running mostly clear, a brow arching beneath his balaclava. “Yes?”

“...don’t- Don’t go telling them.” He manages, fingers twitching where he holds the edge of the tub. “I don’t-”

“I understand.” Offering the cleanest looking towel in the room, Sako gives Dabi a faint smile, nodding when he pulls it from his grip. “It’s not for us to know… Are you alright?”

Dabi rises slowly, using the ledge to pull himself up before rubbing at his freshly dyed hair. There’s a moment of hesitation, then; “Yeah… thanks, Compress.”

Sako smiles fully now, spreading his arms and giving a short bow. “I do what I can.”

Dabi snorts, pulls the towel down around his shoulders. “I owe you, I guess.”

“Well… how do you fancy aiding my endeavours to organize Shigaraki’s card collection?”

“No thanks.”

“Understandable.”

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yandere-mha-blog · 3 years

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Part 19: family dinners are awkward

A funny yandere story that i have no idea where it is going

“Well this was nice, I'll see you guys soon.” you said to both of your parents before heading out, Keigo was already in the car and waved to both of them as you walked back over to him and got in.

Your dad closed the door and let out a sigh

“I don't trust him.” he said

“What, why?” your mom asked “he drove her here, he was nice ,why don't you like him?”

“I never said I didn't like him, I just don't trust him, something about the way he look at her is too familiar about how he used to look at her.”

“I think that is your paranoia, I'm going to turn on the tv, when you are done staring out the window you are free to join me.”

Dabi was poking at his plate, everything tasted way too bland for him. A packet of spicy noodles had more flavor than this.

“You going to eat that.”Shoto asked

“Eat all you want.” Dabi said pushing it over to him

“Toya.” Rei said “Shouldn't you eat something? It took Fuyumi and I a lot of time to get everything made.”

“Well maybe Enji should have helped, he wasn't doing anything.” Dabi said “At least I helped set the table.”

“Ahem, anyways Toya we haven't seen you for a while, what do you plan on doing now?” Fuyumi asked

“I don’t know.” Dabi said, man this dinner was dragging on forever

“Well, have you thought about going to college?” she asked

“No.” Dabi replied, man he wanted to be excused from this seat so bad, what could be worse then forced small talk from your estranged family, who were trying so hard to pretend like nothing happen

“Well don't you have any passions you would want to get into?” She kept digging at him

“Dose setting people on fire couldn't.” “TOYA!” Enji yelled,and Rei jumped a bit in her seat, Dabi rolled his eyes.

“I'm going out for a smoke, I promise not to set anything on fire.” Dabi said getting up and going outside, it was coming down hard now, he lit a cigarette from his pocket and inhaled it all in one long drag.

“Does Toya hate us?” Shoto asked

“What Shoto of course not why would you say something like that?” Rei said

“I don't think he wants to be here.” Shoto said as he finished off the rest of Dabis plate

“I'M sure he is just adjusting.” Rei said Shoto was unconvinced, looking over at Enji and slowly slurping up more noodles.

Dabi was still suffering in the cold when Natsuo came though the games

“OH toya what are you doing out here?” he asked

“Waiting for dinner to be over so I can sneak back into my room and avoid everyone.” He said “Where have you been anyways?”

“At my girlfriend's parents house, I am late, mom isn't gonna let me hear the end of me being late.” he said walking past Toya and heading inside and explaining to everyone that he was home.

Dabi went back inside as everyone was cleaning up their dishes and he snuck back up to his room and face planted into his bed.

“Life is so fucking duel.” He mumbled to himself as he alarm went off, saying it was time to take his medication, he grabbed the white bottle and unscrewed the lid, before he took one out, he closed the lid again and placed the bottle back one

“Screw these.” he thought “ever since i've been on these i can't feel anything, no anger, no joy, nothing, besides i feel better why should i continue to take something i don't need.”

The long car trip was finally over

“Thanks again for driving me Keigo.” you said stepping out of the car

“So can we hang out tomorrow?” Keigo asked

“...is this your way of asking me out on a date Keigo.”

“Maybeeee.” he said “So what do you say, you wanna go on a date with me tomorrow, around 3.”

“I’d love to.” you said

“Great! I'll see you tomorrow at 3 then!” he said, the look on his face looked like he had just won a million bucks.

You liked Keigo, and you thought enough time had passed from the sheer bullshittery that was Dabi that it was about time to start getting yourself out there and be with someone you actually liked and that wasn't a completely deranged individual.

Kent on the other hand was looking at what remained of his eye in the mirror, doctors said that his eye would improve over time, but it would most likely never return to 20/20 vision, he put a new eye patch back on.

Still he couldn't remember the look on Dabis’ face as he did it, the sadistic smile on his face as he was screaming out in pain, how Dabi was able to pin him down so easily and he couldn't defend himself whatsoever, there was a little pain left in the area from the burn, doctors said the pain could be present till it is fully healed.

He picked up his phone and made a quick phone call, it rang for a while before she picked up

“YO Kenny, how's the eye?” Rumi asked

“Uhh still healing, but Rumi, you said you run a dojo right.”

“Yup got it from my dad, why do you ask?’ “Well I've been thinking about what happened with Dabi that night, i really had no way on how I could defend myself-”

“Oh you want me to teach you some moves, get it, swing by tomorrow ill squeeze you in.”

“But tomorrow's Christmas?” Kent said

“So what doubt you got Christmas plans or something, doubtful since you've been bedrest for a while, anyway come by tomorrow or i will hunt you down and bring you here myself.” Rumi said and hung up, then quickly sent him the address, well at least he had something to do tomorrow.

#yandere ex au #yandere dabi #yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere dabi x reader #yandere hawks x reader

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yandereaffections · 3 years

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Do be aware that it has been a good few years since Dabi celebrated someone else's birthday or even his own, with that said his chill and laid back behavior really seems like he forgot or just doesn't care but as you two get ready for the day, still slowly getting past the sleepy haze of waking up Dabi will pull you back into bed rather lazily, commenting how his special birthday baby should be given extra hours of sleep

He doesn't do anything grand, doesn't have the money to buy a nice little goody for you nor the agility and carefulness to steal a whole cake for you, unless you're ok with getting a messed up crumbled cake of any kind Dabis not even gonna bother. Instead he'll manage to set up something of a surprise party in the bar kurogiri maintains, ensuring there's multiple drinks for you to choose from along with cupcakes he managed to 'borrow' from the store in bunches, frosting slightly off center and smeared onto the container but that's ok, the candles lit with blue fire will take your attention from that.

From childish party games to a intense game of drunk uno you'll end up having a lot more fun with Dabi than you'd expect. And he may have lied a bit when he said he couldn't get you anything nice, while yes he is indeed broke as fuck Dabi made a good plan with using the cupcakes as a distraction for he did manage to get you a nice little necklace. He doesn't care about how masculine or feminine you come off to be it was something he caught in the corner of his eyes and thought you would like, a shiny blue pendant, possibly sapphire, maybe if he stopped to observe what the price was he could assume how genuine it was but nevertheless it certainly looks well on you, a clear making you belong to him.

A small peck on the cheek spreading heat from his lips, hoping he did well enough to give you a decent celebration of your birthday and if not there's away the option to unwrap him at the end of the day if you want, if you get what he means.

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hitoshisbabygirl · 4 years

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Authors Notes ♡: WHEW I LOVED THIS I had a time trying to come up with an idea and then it hit me : a princess being saved by fantasy au! Dabi. I’m still nervous with my smuts but heh I enjoyed this a whole bunch to write . Dabi is my favorite villain and I just love him so much, I tried to make him a soft inside and hard outside man in this , I Had fun for our free for all collab and I hope I help give it just a fun twist to fantasy and Halloween spirit ~ I hope you enjoy reading this and much as I did writing it ~ bunny ❥

Warnings :UH NSFW! Demon dabi has two dick (and their thick) , pet names, unprotected sex , a tad bit of a size kink? , a bit fluffy at the end but I think that’s it!

Word count : about 2k give or take!

Paring(s) :Dabi x F! Reader

Even with this being NSFW I had to make it a soft fluffy ending I’m sorry ♡

———————————————————————

Enchanted flames

Dabi

“If you have found this letter the Princess of Yuei needs your help. Meet me in the Enchanted Woods tomorrow night. Ill escape with you if you can save me from the proposed wedding - Princess [ ]”

With a sigh [. ] dropped the letter out of her window hoping someone, anyone , could save her from the doom that awaited her from an arranged marriage that had been planned from her kingdom to be to the neighboring ones prince, a smaller and very...purple hot headed boy by the name of Mineta who was unsavory for a lack of words. Sighing as she watched the paper fall she secretly wished her type of prince would come save her from this hell she expected.

As the night approached she slipped past her guards, telling them she was going out for air in her garden. The two towering men who looked down at her agreed, moving at the way to let the young woman past them and out into the halls, her dress dragging behind her as she headed out the giant doors to her garden. Taking in a breath she climbed over the perfectly managed hedges andddd off into the forest adjacent to the castle, roaming through the woods to her chosen spot to hopefully meet someone who could save her.

“Hello there little sheep, you called for help, correct?” A low, raspy voice called out as [ ] turned around , looking into the dark abyss in front of her. “ Hello? Helloooo? Who's there?” the girl called out as she heard something heavy land behind her. Turning to her right she saw bright blue eyes look back at her from the shadows. Before she could react a rather warm hand covered her mouth as the person or thing dragged her throughout the woods , the two of them slipping into the night. As soon as [ ] woke up her eyes adjusted to a dark but brightly lit and beautiful chasm, cyan and turquoise crystals of all types surrounded the room as she felt intense heat from everywhere around her. Standing up on shaky legs she felt eyes on her from behind. Letting out a deep breath she turned only to run into a barely covered chest.

Looking up from the revealed purple and pale skin , she saw those same blue eyes , lit with curiosity. “Ah you're awake..welcome little sheep to my...well..living quarters” The mystery man spoke as [ ] blinked at him, a grin spreading over his face as he continued to speak “Well i guess the princess doesnt know she isn't in her little castle anymore. Haven't those guards of yours realized they can't leave royalty alone or guys like me come along and take them out of their cute little homes” He said as [ ] gave him a suspicious look , her own thoughts taking over her face as a sense of calm rested over her features “Ohhh so you're the one who found my note..” She said as he gave her an unreadable look , soon walking away to leave the girl in her own world. “I guess he did” she thought to herself as she heard the male come back, a pile of things in his hands. “Here; a change of clothes and something to eat. I tried to be gentle taking you out of those dreaded castle grounds and through the woods but your dress isnt the smallest thing in the world” he said as [ ] let out a giggle , picking up the dark shirt and skirt he had given her along with the meal : some type of rice and meat with soup. Before she could ask the man answered “No i didnt steal it, i told you this is my home , its only natural id have something in this god forsaken place to eat.” He said as he pointed down the cave. “Theres a waterfall ahead if youd like to freshen up there.” And with that [ ] walked down the empty carved walls, finding the waterfall he was talking about.

Once she was finished getting cleaned and dressed she headed back the way she went, seeing the male now cloaked in a dark cape , fiddling with a pile of wood before setting it ablaze with a bright blue flame. “Ah i see you're finished , ILl be heading out , i'm gonna find us some more wood so you don't get cold. Theres a pot over there where you can reheat your food and get more if you like.” As he finished he proceeded to get up and head down another pathway, presumingly to the opening of the chasm “Wait!” [ ] called out as he stopped, turning to the girl with a questioning look back at her. “Yes princess?” he responded to her as she felt a unnatural wave of heat spreading to her face from simply calling her by her actual title. “What can I call you? And how long will you be gone?” She questioned. “Aw are you worried about me?” He cooed as she puffed out her cheeks “I was just curious” She lashed back as the male in front of her laughed , giving her a crooked smile. “ The names Dabi, and i won't be gone too long, an hour or so” Dabi said, giving her a smile as he started to leave again.

“Oh yeah , and there's a spare jacket in the back if you get too cold or that fire goes out.” and with that he left [ ] by herself as she finished up the dinner he had made which was exceptionally good, even better than what she tended to have at the castle. While she waited around for dabi to come back , [ ] looked at her royal dress, the red and pinks making her want to revolt as she pushed the fluffy tooled pile up into a blanket of sorts, covering her legs as she sat there thinking about her predicament “I really ran away...but what else can you do when youre gonna be married off to someone years older than you for land and alliance” she thought with a sigh as footsteps came from behind her , Dabi pulling his hood from his head as he smiled to himself at the girl in front of him “Im back princess” He declared as she turned to him, giving him a small smile as she stood up, dusting off her dress , coming up to Dabi “So...whatcha find?” She started as he pulled the bag from behind him , dumping out different goodies for the two of them. An array of food, wood and fresh buckets for water collections. “Here, this is for you too” Dabi said as he passed her a well woven balck dress, better than the two piece he had first given her. Taking in a deep breath he spoke up “I didn't want you to struggle with rags , so i got you something a little more comfortable and well...suitable for a run away princess” and with that she looked up to him and giggled which was heaven to his ears. ‘Why thank you Dabi..i'm flattered” [ ] said as she took the black dress , running to a hidden corner to change as Dabi smirked “Oh boy..what have i signed myself up for”

Weeks later and multiple posters for the lost princess later, [ ] had a rhythm living with Dabi. They cooked together and he left out to get things from shops ans out in the woods. Word spread that the princess had been stolen and the ugly grape himself had put a reward out for her safe return. Unknown to everyone she was quite content with the dark demon mage Dabi and his home in the woods. He explained the chasm as his work space, a place he could hone in on working with his flames and different elixirs that people needed. He was a half breed of human and demon, his father ridding of him to hide his affair with an otherworldly being, to keep the peace of his people and the overworld people as well. He really wasn’t a bad man, just someone who stayed in the shadows and kept to himself. And [. ] ‘s heart went out to him, as his did out to hers as she explained her own situation. ”Well damn sweetheart at least i saved you hm?” Dabi said as the two of them laughed together about their lives and what they'd like to change.

As the night drew on and they had their fair share of drinks and food that night “Thank you Dabi..for everything” [ ] said randomly as they relaxed by the fire he had started , [ ] wrapped into the oversized fur Dabi made her as the male laid against a log watching the tired girl mumble to him. She gave him a sleepy smile once he put his warmed hand on her face. “You're cute yknow...i'm not gonna let anyone get to you okay?” He said as she shook her head, moving herself closer to him , laying her head on his lap as he rubbed her head until she fell asleep, him soon realizing he was in love with the rogue princess in his lap.

As the next month rolled around , the princess and her demon mage had started a loving relationship, the two of them growing fonder and fonder of eachother. [ ] noticed that Dabi had tried avoiding being around her when she was fresh from the shower or even roaming too close behind her, he even took more time to come home with more ingredients or even sleep opposite to her. She didn't understand the switch from wanting to hold and hug her to avoiding her all day. One day she was able to catch and trap him with her. “Yes princess…?” Dabi ased as [ ] crossed her arms around her chest , the simple movement making him turn from her. “Did I..do something…?” She asked, her eyes bouncing between his as the turquoise she learned to love ignited with heat.

”Oh no doll...you haven't done a thing but make me want you even more..”

And with that comment her eyes widened. “What..?” She questioned. And with that Dabi picked the smaller girl up, pinning her to a crystal wall as she gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck.”Dabi…….?” [ ] called out as he started to kiss her neck ,running his rougher hands up the soft flesh of her thighs. “I think i'm in love with you doll..youve been invading my head or a while and all i can think about is making your cute little body want me the burning way i want you...I wanna make you cry out for me all night long...make you mines forever.....is that okay?” He whispered in her ear. With a shudder she agreed , letting him kiss the swells of her brest as he gave her a lopsided smile, picking her up and taking her to a pile of pelts and wool they made into a bedroom to rest in. Placing her down lightly he towered her , taking off his vest to reveal his toned and scarred body “Youre quite a beauty yknow...im glad you trust me…” He said with a smile as [ ] herself smashed her lips against his, cutting off his mushy talk. With a groan he pushed her dress up , letting her breast bounce out from the top. Pulling away from the kiss she helped him take off the dress over her head. With a shy smile [ ] covered ehrslf and laid back, spreading her legs lightly to expose her glistening lips to him

“Well damn, i havent even toughed you yet and youre this wet..what a little slut you are”

He growled out as he leaned back over to give her a kiss , pulling her lower lip as he licke dhis was down between her legs, giving her clit a hard suck as she whinned , closing her legs over his head as he slurped away at her pussy, making sure to watch her through hooded eyes, a tail whipping from behind him as a pair of horns appeared from atop his head, one mangled and cracked the other long and curled “Surprise” Dabi called out as his voice dropped octaves, it coming out as a low rumble as [ ] felt her walls clench at the sound , a chuckle coming from him. Going back to slurping and sucking on her labia and clit , Dabi watch with glee as the gilr under him started to shake, her hips rolling back to his mouth as he bit lightly down on her lips and pulled away from her , laughing at her pleas and whimpers “Turn sound baby and let me show you how much i love you” Dabi said , watching as [ ] rolled over arching her hips back as he smacked her ass, loving the moan she let out. Pulling down his pants he pulled his throbbing member out, rubbing it hard against her clit as she felt her heart jumped at the feeling of how thick he was. All of a sudden she felt hands pull her cheeks apart as a finger rub around the tight rings of her ass. With a gasp she looked back to see not one but two swinging dicks between the burning up male, a feral look in his eyes as he let a low rumble come from his chest “ Sorry babygirl..when I change there's more than just one of me to deal with, i promise i'll be gentle” He said as he rubbed her tight muscles just loose enough to put in the tip, her lower lips drooling as he slid his true size into her throbbing walls, moans and grunts tearing through the chasm as he pulled his hips back , starting to set a rhythm to his hips. While he picked up the pace, [ ] felt herself being full as the two dicks of his stuffed her. She could help the feeling of her walls getting tighter as she came once then twice and not once did Dabi stop, he laughed as he gave her more and more , pushing himself deeper in her as he let out what sounded like a howl of pain as he doubled in pace, reaching down to rub her clit as she screamed, soon feeling a hot and warm gooey feeling flood her senses. Dabi slowed his hips down as he pulled himself from her ass first, then from her pussy and cum started to leak from her holes.

“Shit...im sorry princess I didnt mean to go so rough…” Dabi breathed out as [ ] turned around giving him hr own lopsided smile as she saw him transform backto himself, those turquoise eyes softening as he saw the woman he had fallen for spent out from his own actions. “Geez when you said you were a demon i didnt think it was true…” She laughed as he scratched th back of his neck “Ive never transformed like this around someone….especially during sex but that means I trust you a lot….well doll..let me clean you up and then...we can go fro round two hm?” He smirked as he watched her pussy clench and relase more cum once he said that. “Mhm...clean me Dabi then we can have some more fun..”

#my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha x reader #the circus dome collab #dabi x reader lemon #dabi x reader #dabi smut

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2dmenenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Fire's Cool, Revenge is Better

Aizawa x Villain Reader, Dabi x Villain Reader

Listen I know I write for Aizawa a lot but I just love him :( But there's some Dabi in here to add a lil somethin somethin. ALSO I kinda kept this open in case ya'll wanted a part 2? There's no guarantees, but if enough people want it I might consider it

Summary: Meeting Shouta on rooftops was always fun and games until he thinks you're going to set him on fire.

Word count: 2.9K

Warnings/Other Info: Swearing, sexual themes, very small mention of assault, age gap, reader used to be his student but that was years ago and the reader is an adult in this so don't worry lmao, reader is kept gender-neutral, reader's quirk is spontaneous combustion (they can set things on fire just by looking at it)

This fic is intended for adult audiences, so minors DNI

The breeze felt good against your face, eyes gazing at the night sky as you sat on the edge of the roof of some random corporate building you couldn’t remember the name of. You briefly looked down at the street below, watching pedestrians walk along the sidewalk as cars drove by, and you idly swung your feet as you rummaged around in your jacket pocket before pulling out a pack of cigarettes. The sound of traffic at night was always relaxing to you, having lived in the city most of your life. You didn’t know if you’d ever be able to sleep without the distant noise of a car honking. The idea was honestly kind of unsettling, and you thought maybe a part of you liked it because the bustling of the city was comparable to the constant racing of your thoughts.

Letting out a huff, you checked the time on your phone as you placed a cigarette between your lips, looking at the end of it and feeling a slight pressure behind your eyes before it suddenly lit up and you took a drag. He’d be here any minute now, having memorized the schedule for his patrol. You’d been thinking about what you should say to him when you finally saw him but realized there was no point. There was no “preparing” when it came to Shouta Aizawa. You knew whatever you wanted to say would be thrown right out the window when you saw his piercing gaze, so you decided you’d just wing it. Not like that was unusual for you. You’ve been winging it most of your adult life, purely acting on impulse.

You heard a soft rustling behind you, smirking as you knew exactly who it was by how quiet they were. If you hadn’t committed his habits to memory, you probably wouldn’t have heard him. You heard him take a few steps towards you before suddenly stopping, and you let out a soft chuckle as you took another drag from the white stick, blowing the smoke into the air and watching it slowly fade.

“Took you long enough. Almost thought you wouldn’t show,” you said, a playful lilt to your voice as you stood and turned to face the erasure hero.

The city lights illuminated his shocked expression, eyes slightly widened as he took you in before his gaze narrowed.

“Y/n… what are you doing here?” he asked, the low timbre of his voice sending a pleasant feeling up your spine.

You shrugged, that familiar mischievous look in your eyes as you swiveled on the heel of your boot and began to pace. “Oh you know, just thought I’d get some fresh air, get a good look at all the pretty lights.” You paused, eyes hooded and a smirk tugging at your lips as you glanced over at Shouta. “Meet up with a certain hero.”

He audibly sighed, clearly not interested in whatever game you were playing, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread over your face. You didn’t meet up like this often, but when you did, it was always fun getting underneath his skin. It had been almost a year since you saw him last, and you swore he always looked different when you would see him. Maybe it was the circles under his eyes getting darker, or the new scar he acquired between visits, but you knew none of it mattered. This was still Shouta, a man you grew close to during your years at UA. Though, it all seemed like a distant memory now.

“So, how’ve you been, Sho? Still catching bad guys and putting ‘em behind bars and all that?”

“I have half the mind to do the same to you.”

“Oh, we both know you wouldn’t. You like me too much to see me locked up,” you said, taking a few steps closer to him as he stared at you with a pointed look. “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to smile when you’re around me. You don’t always have to be so stoic and brooding.”

“What reason do I have to smile when being around you always gives me a headache?” he said, voice void of any emotion as you winced and placed a hand on your chest.

“Ouch, Sho. That actually kinda stung. I thought my presence was quite enjoyable.”

“You need to stop this, y/n.”

You raised an eyebrow, only a foot of distance between you now as you reached forward and lightly tugged at his capture weapon, feeling the fabric between your fingers before he swatted your hand away.

“Stop what? My general villain tomfoolery or annoying you?”

“Both. We both know you’re better than this.”

“Am I?”

You looked at him for a moment before letting out a scoff and taking a step back, shifting your gaze from him as you took one last drag from your cigarette. Throwing it on the ground, you stomped on it with the toe of your boot and turned to move back to the edge of the building, arms crossing over your chest.

“Fuck, hate it when you make me think about all this dumb, sappy shit. Can never let me have my fun, huh?” you huffed, tongue poking the inside of your cheek. “‘You’re better than this,’ fucking christ. If I had a damn dime for every time I heard that I’d be fuckin’ rich.”

You heard him sigh again. “Y/n-”

“Don’t ‘y/n’ me!” you yelled, spinning around as you felt your anger flare up, and your eyes landed on a red-eyed Shouta, his black hair floating in the air.

You both just stood there, gazing at each other until his hair eventually floated back down to his shoulders and his eyes stopped glowing, and you let out a humorless chuckle that eventually turned into a full-blown laugh, clapping as you doubled over.

“Oh, Shouta!” you cheered, arms out at your sides as you backed up towards the edge of the roof. “How glad I am to know that you have so little trust in me. What? Thought that I didn’t have my anger under control?” You took another step, heels peeking over the edge. “Thought I was gonna blow something up?”

“Y/n, don’t,” Shouta said, fists clenched as he stepped towards you.

“Don’t what, Sho? Jump?” You looked over your shoulder down at the street below, knowing that a fall from this height would certainly kill you. “Why not, huh? One less villain for you to deal with, right? One less inconvenience for you.”

“You really think that little of yourself? You think I want this?”

“It’s what everyone else believes. What the media spews out daily without any fucking semblance of the truth. The League… those guys are messed up, but they’re still people. People that society abandoned when they gained some gross fetish for heroes. You’re just their pawn, you know? They don’t give a shit about you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Maybe not,” you shrugged. “Maybe I’m still that naive student in your class, dreaming of being a big-time hero one day just like All Might.”

You moved your foot back, feeling nothing but empty space underneath it as you slowly let yourself fall back, your heart jumping up in your throat and your stomach in your chest. Your other foot was almost off the edge until you felt something wrap around you and you were pulled into a sturdy chest, and you looked up to see Shouta staring intently at you. Something between concern and confusion in his eyes, or maybe a combination of both. The corners of your mouth twitched up into a sad smile, reaching up to lightly trace the scar under the hero’s eye with the tips of your fingers.

“You’re not like them, Sho. You’re so much better. You don’t let the bullshit and lies cloud your judgment. You’re just… you. In all of your cynical and stubborn ways.”

Your hand moved to his stubbled cheek, feeling your eyes begin to well up with tears. He looked so tired, constantly burdened with the responsibility of being a hero and a teacher, dealing with rambunctious kids all day. And there then there was you, that same student that ran away all those years ago, just giving him more trouble than he needed. Maybe it was time to end this little “game” once and for all.

“I suppose I’ve never made things easy for you, have I? Always causing trouble in school… guess that attitude carried into my adult life, huh?”

It almost made you cringe calling yourself an adult in front of him. You half expected him to laugh in your face and remind you that you were just a kid, but he remained silent, gaze softening when he noticed the moisture build up under your eyes, and he removed his capture weapon from around you.

“I… I just wish I could run away sometimes,” you whispered, both hands holding Shouta’s face as a tear rolled down your cheek. “There’s nothing here for me. Though, I don’t think I’d be able to when you’re here.”

Despite how confident you were earlier, you felt like crawling into a hole at that moment. Your confession made you sound like a stupid love-struck teenager, which is the last thing you wanted him to see you as. It didn’t really matter what he was thinking, though. The way he was looking at you already made you feel like he was judging you. You sniffled and pulled away, arms wrapping around yourself as Shouta reached out for you, your name on the tip of his tongue. You shook your head.

“Don’t, just… I know I sound dumb. And I know it was stupid of me to think that…”

You sighed, memories of being in his class flooding your mind. You weren’t always so troubled. You had a few friends you got along with, but other than that you usually remained quiet. That excluded your outbursts, though. Something or someone would set you off, making some off-hand comment about how you didn’t belong in UA, and you would just vibrate with so much rage that something nearby would suddenly burst into flames, and it only made them tease you more.

That was until Shouta took you under his wing. He began teaching you how to control your quirk and use defensive techniques that didn’t involve setting anything on fire. It was the first time in your life that you felt like somebody cared about you. You were on your way to becoming a great hero. That all changed when you saw how corrupt hero society really was. Your mother worked at a pro hero’s agency, working her damndest to put food on the table for your family until there was an incident at her work with her boss, and his pro hero friends covered it all up to protect him. You remember how upset you were, blowing up the tv when you saw his smug face on screen talking to the press. It got so bad you almost destroyed a whole city block. You ran away before the police could find you, packing a bag and promising your mother you’d avenge her before setting off on your own, leaving before you could finish the second half of your third year at UA. Then the League eventually found you and took you in. No, you weren’t interested in destroying heroes like Shigaraki and his crew, but you were determined to expose them. Uncover all of the dirty truths they had all kept hidden away from the media so that they could keep their perfect image and have their fans worship the ground they walk on. It all made you sick, getting so angry and upset that you could practically feel the vomit wanting to crawl up into your throat you would get so nauseous just thinking about it.

Despite your different goals and his hate for pretty much everyone, Dabi and you got along quite well, surprisingly. Maybe it was only because of the similarities of your quirks, but regardless, you were glad to have a companion. While UA taught you how to control your quirk, Dabi helped you unleash it, realize the full potential of your powers, and your face would glow with wonder and exhilaration as you set the world ablaze. You ended up kissing him one night, so full of adrenaline and desperate for some sort of outlet for all of it that you found your lips firmly planted on his, and he was more than okay with it, gripping you tightly against him as he pried your lips open with his eager tongue.

You thought that’d be the end of your little transgression, but you were wrong. On more than one occasion, one of you would end up falling into the other’s bed, and you would be nothing more than a pair of tangled limbs and desperate touches as you both tried to feel something. You didn’t really view each other romantically, simply using each other when you needed a release. But despite that, you thought Dabi was beautiful. He would laugh whenever you told him that, saying you were too fucked out to think properly. But you meant it. Every time. Whenever you’d lay your head on his bare chest and lightly trace the edges of his scars, muttering those simple words into the air, and they would weigh heavy on him. You didn’t know, but he’d think about those words well after you’d retreat to your own room, puffing on a cigarette and trying to banish every and any thought of you. Besides, he knew your heart belonged to someone else.

You looked up at the sky, feeling Shouta’s gaze still on you before meeting his eyes with a smile, but there was no joy behind it. “I suppose you think I’m pretty pathetic, huh?”

“I think you’re troubled, y/n,” Shouta said, taking a step towards you. “I think you need help. Guidance.”

“There is no helping me, Shouta,” you muttered. “I don’t think I can believe in being a hero anymore after what happened.”

“I’m not asking you to. But believe in me. Believe that I want the best for you.”

His words made you pause, swallowing the lump in your throat as you shook your head. “I do believe in you… I just don’t believe in the society you represent.”

Shouta sighed, lips pressed tightly together as he regarded you with an almost unreadable expression, but you knew what that look was. It wasn’t disappointment, but regret.

“It wasn’t your fault, Sho. You were the only one who was ever really there for me, and you were the only person who went looking for me when I ran away. You cared about me. And that’s the only thing I could ever ask for. I know you might think that you failed me, but you helped me. You taught me how to control my abilities,” you paused, letting out a short breath. “but someone taught me how to use them. And until people know the truth… I won’t stop.”

Shouta looked like he wanted to say something when you heard a shout from below, walking towards the edge of the roof and seeing the League waiting for you on the sidewalk. Toga waved excitedly when she saw your face, and you smiled and shook your head before going back over to the older man. You reached forward hesitantly, hand brushing over his chest before bracing yourself against him as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth. When you pulled away, you swore you might’ve just given everything up for him at that moment. He looked so vulnerable, so open like you could reach right into his chest and rip his heart out and he wouldn’t care. But with another distant shout of your name, you were snapped out of your reverie and you moved away from him.

“Don’t come looking for me, Sho, and don’t try to stop me either. I don’t wanna hurt you, but if you get in my way, you’ll leave me no choice,” you said, giving the hero one last look as you turned to walk away, but stopped when you heard him call out your name. You glanced back at him, a brow raised in question.

“You’re making a mistake. This won’t change what happened.”

You hummed, slightly nodding as you smiled bitterly. “You’re right. But maybe I can stop it from happening to other people.”

Sparing him one last look, you took a deep breath and jumped from the roof. The ground rushed to meet you as the wind hit your face, and before you could hit the pavement, a pair of arms caught you and gently placed you on the ground. You looked into those electric blue eyes, letting out a small hum as you lightly punched Dabi’s shoulder.

“Thanks, sailor,” you said with a wink, and you playfully bumped your elbow against Shigaraki as you walked between the two men.

“So, how’d it go with lover boy?” Dabi asked, his hands shoved into his pockets, and a bitter taste filled your mouth as you thought about the mentioned hero.

“I don’t think we’ll be seeing him again anytime soon.”

If Dabi saw the way your jaw clenched or the flash of anguish in your eyes, he didn’t say anything, just simply threw an arm around your shoulders and let you stumble into his side. You didn’t know when or if you’d ever see Shouta again. But if you did, you wanted him to give you everything he got.

#shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa imagine #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi imagine #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha imagines #bnha imagines #aizawa x reader #aizawa imagine

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goblinwithaheart · 3 years

Text

Unexpected But Not Unappreciated

Dabi x Reader

18+

Word count: 3,500

Dabi's a smartass, and that's putting it lightly. He mouths off one too many times and you decide to do something about it. Unexpectedly for him, you take the wheel in this encounter, and he's all but along for the ride.

PWP/Plot what plot; light dom/sub; afab reader; dirty talk; choking; use of safewords; reader has established quirk

A/N: first fic posted to tumblr! find me on ao3 @ goblinwithaheart and this fic here

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Now, how did we end up here? Dabi thought, his back pressed against the plaster wall of the dingey hole you’d found yourselves in.

Your fingers curled around his throat, a controlled transformation causing sharp, black talons to dig into the scarred skin. You stared up at him, usually so small and demure, your pupils turned into predatory slits. Your grip tightened, and Dabi reflexively swallowed around the pressure you exerted. He felt his Adam’s apple bob against the strength of your palm.

At any point he could engulf the whole room in his hellish blue fire. Dabi knew this--it would be easier even than just batting you away, which was a far cry from difficult in the first place. But there was something about this moment, the feeling in the air, some sort of electricity in the atmosphere, that implored him to see where things were going.

Your lips quirked up, revealing sharp teeth. Every bit the predator, your countenance grew challenging, dainty jaw setting and head tilting. Dabi continued to stare down at you and take in the moment, the inherent threat failing to land. “Care to run that by me again?” You asked, your accent as terrible as always.

And shit--what had he even said? Something smartass for sure, that was a given. But… as he stood there, your hand around his throat, your soft, plush body pressed against him--and that fucking fire in your eyes. Dabi couldn’t remember. Couldn’t think of much beyond the current moment.

Beyond the bulge of his dick pressing against the zipper of his jeans.

Your eyes darted down. Shit, she noticed. Dabi cursed internally, but didn’t allow himself to outwardly express his reaction. He kept his expression level and disinterested, but when you turned your eyes back to his, your pupils dilated back to big, black circles. You must have been able to feel his pulse begin to beat a rapid tattoo under your fingers.

Your smile widened, sharp teeth growing dull. Dabi felt the sting of your talons fade, though your grip remained snug around the column of his throat. “You’re kidding,” you said. A breathy chuckle left you, and ostensibly, you were mocking him. But Dabi could hear the huskiness in your voice. “This does it for you, Dabi?”

Dabi remained steadfast in his silence. Partly because he wanted to be a huge bastard about it, partly because he wasn’t sure what would come out of his mouth. You took note of the man’s stubbornness and tightened your fingers more, your delicate digits pressing deftly into the arteries at the sides of his neck.

Dabi’s own hands flew to grip your arm, his large palms nearly engulfing your entire forearm. “Hey now,” he rasped, voice raw from the pressure and heady from the surge of lust coursing through his body. “We haven’t talked safewords yet.”

He’d meant it as a joke. Another smartass remark like the kind that got him into this situation. But the way your eyes practically lit up..

“Just say red,” you said. He felt your other hand brush across his thigh before you gripped the hard outline of his cock through his jeans. You pressed yourself even closer against him, your ample breasts squishing against his chest to create some positively tantalizing cleavage. “No reason to mess with the classics.”

Dabi smiled, one side of his mouth pulling against the staples in his face. “I always had you pegged for a freak.” He hissed a breath through his teeth when you squeezed his dick. But that smug smile came back immediately. “You fake good girls always are.”

“Fuck off,” you retorted before pulling him down to press your lips against his in a heated kiss.

Dabi was pulled forward and down, his bright blue eyes widening for the quickest second at his counterpart’s sudden action. But when his mismatched lips met your plush, soft ones, he allowed himself to sink into the moment. You pushed your tongue into his mouth and Dabi couldn’t help the groan that bubbled up in his chest.

Fuck, who could blame him though? It’s not like he hadn’t entertained the idea of fucking you before. At one point he’d even had a plan to make a move on you--at least he did until he found out you could transform into a seven-foot-tall demon monster and had way too much fun maiming jerk-ass guys who looked at you for too long.

But this? Oh, this was better than he even thought. Dabi moved his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh beneath his palms. You growled against his mouth, stopping your hand palming his hard cock to move his grip to your ass and guiding him to squeeze.

“Touch me like you’re going to fuck me, goddammit.” Your tone left no room for argument, and honestly, it made Dabi a little weak in the knees.

“Yes ma’am,” he answered, cocky as all hell, his large hands kneading into your flesh like he wanted to own it.

“Mm, good boy.” You purred, and the sound of your arousal-thick praise sent shocks of pleasure down his spine.

God, when he’d imagined it, he thought you’d be this submissive little brat. Let him do whatever he wanted to you. Your body was practically made to be tossed around and told what to do. And he always thought you’d look so good on your knees for him. But you were nothing if not a walking contradiction. Look one way, act another. Kept him more than interested, he knew that.

You separated from him with a desperate gasp. You looked so debauched, Dabi thought. Delicate hair a mess, lips kiss-bruised, cheeks flushed. With the way you were playing him like a fiddle, he was sure he looked much the same.

He didn’t get to ponder the sight for long, though. You had always been surprisingly strong, even in your un-transformed body. And the way that you manhandled him to the dusty floor was nothing short of hot as fuck.

You were on him again, thick thighs straddling his hips, your mouth nipping and sucking the scarred skin on his neck. Dabi grabbed your hips and ground against you, forcing a tiny sound from you. Good fucking god, that one sound really set him off. He wanted more of those. He wanted more of you.

He pushed his hands under your shirt, your hot skin jumping beneath his fingertips. Up and up he went, finally cupping his large hands over your breasts. The tips of his black-painted fingernails peeked under the collar of your tank top, low hem affording the view.

You batted him away impetuously, moving down to begin working on the unmarred skin over Dabi’s pectoral. “I thought--” Dabi hissed as you bit down “--that you wanted me to touch you.”

“‘M busy,” you replied. Dabi was going to pop off with another smartass comment, but the thought died as you moved further down, your fingers busy undoing his jeans. You wasted no time freeing him from the confines of his traitorous pants, your small hand wrapping around the hard, hot length of his cock. “Ooh,” you cooed.

Dabi raised himself to rest on his elbows and the most smug, shit-eating smirk split his features as he peered down at you. Dabi knew what he was working with, had been on the receiving end of more than a few astonished and impressed stares. And you were looking at his cock with absolute hunger, your hand gently stroking up and down, both your eyes and your fingers roving over the series of piercings decorating the underside.

“Never seen you speechless--ah!” Dabi’s sarcastic comment cut off as you quickly sank your mouth down onto him. You drew yourself back up before llicking a wide stripe from base to tip, taking care to run the tip of your tongue between the metal bars. You engulfed the head of his cock again and god, he could lose himself in that hot cavern, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked. “Fuck, angel. You’ve been holding out.”

You only hummed, reaching out to plant his hand into your hair, encouraging him to fist the soft strands and bob you up and down as he pleased. And he did, roughly gripping your hair and tugging, pulling your sweet mouth up and down his length. You squeaked at his rough treatment and then moaned in turn, the vibration feeling amazing as he pushed you down, the head of his dick pressing against the back of your throat.

Fuck, much more of this and he was going to bust, and he wanted nothing more than to pour his load right down your throat. Dabi groaned and the image conjured up in his mind: you peering up at him on your knees, tongue out with his cum dripping down your chin.

“Fuck, babe--god, your mouth is so good.” Dabi panted, fingers tightening in your hair. He could feel that pressure building, his lower abdomen flexing as pleasure ignited the nerves up and down his spine. You were taking him so perfectly, your tongue laving over his length, hands taking care of the rest of him that didn’t fit in your mouth. “Shit, I’m gonna cum!”

And just like that, you tore yourself away, leaving Dabi tethering just on the edge.

“Ah!--What the fuck,” the desperation in his voice was almost embarrassing. Dabi’s hips jerked on their own, but the weight of your body stifled most of the movement. You were clever enough to have also gotten hold of both of his wrists, your nails digging into the scarred skin there, preventing him from finishing what you’d goddamn started. He craned his head up, peering down the length of his body to see you grinning at him in utter delight. “You bitch,” Dabi panted, eyebrows drawn up and together in frustration.

“Shh,” you soothed, leaning down to give the head of his cock a tiny kitten lick. Dabi jerked again in response. “I’m not done with you yet.” You sat up once more and hungrily raked your eyes over him. If Dabi had still been familiar with the concept of shame, the sheer lewdness of your stare may have embarrassed him. “God, don’t you look so handsome underneath me. All desperate, wanting to cum so bad.” You flicked your eyes to his. “Color?”

For a moment, Dabi was confused. His mind was focused on the singular goal of getting off, all his thoughts hazy through the fog of pleasure coursing through his body, his desperate need to cum. Then he remembered, and dropped his head back to the floor with a dull thud. “All green,” he groaned, “just fucking touch me.”

You chuckled darkly. “Good boys get rewards, Dabi.” He felt you release his hands, and he peeked back down to see you run your hands up your thighs. His gaze zeroed in on the movement. Your palms caressed over your hips, across the dip of your waist, and rested to cup the globes of your breasts. Your hands kneaded the supple flesh through the material of your oversized tank top. “Show me you can be a good boy and I'll let you cum.”

Let him cum? Normally, Dabi would have scoffed, unimpressed with that little power play. He wasn’t in the habit of having anyone let him do anything. But this time… It was doing it for him. Maybe it was something to do with how he’d imagined fucking you more nights than not recently. Or maybe it was how he’d seen you mutilate men for looking at you wrong, but were doing this with him, of all people. Or, just maybe, the thought that you could give him a run for his money, give as good as you got and never, ever back down got him harder than fucking diamond.

But it didn’t really matter why, did it? Dabi reached out, leaning to grab you by the hips, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your leggings. “Come sit on my face,” he growled, “and I’ll show you how good I can be.”

Your eyes flashed in excitement, though it was quickly covered with a veneer of cool confidence. You rose and quickly shucked off your bottoms--no panties, Dabi noticed with a smirk--and situated yourself above him, hovering for a moment. But Dabi was not a patient man on his best days, and quickly wrapped his arms around your thighs, pressing you down and burying his face in your cunt.

Above him, you gasped as he began his onslaught. God, you were already soaking wet, he thought as his tongue dove through your folds. He struck the swollen nub of your clit with the flat of his tongue, eliciting a small moan from you. He wasted no time in wrapping his lips around it and sucking mercilessly.

“Ah!” You gasped, bending to grab a fistful of his hair. You rocked your hips against his mouth, and Dabi wasn’t sure if you were feeling too much or were chasing after it. “Ngh, Dabi, fuck!” You moaned obscenely, and the doubt quickly erased itself from his mind.

He lapped at you, alternating between teasing licks and pointed flicks. He felt every tremor that shook your muscles, the stinging in his scalp from your fingers twisted in his hair, and heard the filthy moans that he made spill from your mouth.

You were grinding against him in earnest now, panting Dabi’s name as you chased your orgasm on his face. He focused on your clit, manipulating it in the way that made you tense and frenzied above him. You ground down harder, and he was beginning to realize he’d need some air soon. But damn if suffocating between your thighs wouldn’t be one hell of a way to go.

“Yes, yesyesyes! I’m gonna cum--fuck, Dabi, I’m gonna--!!” Your words died with a sharp gasp, followed by a strangled moan as your whole body tensed above him. Your back arched and Dabi felt you trembling under his hands as he worked you through your orgasm. You pulled yourself up and away abruptly, yanking his head back when you teetered on the cusp of overstimulation.

Dabi looked up at you, your skin flushed pink, hair tacky against your sweaty forehead. Your chest was still heaving up and down as you returned his stare, eyes glassy.

Proud of the destruction he wrought, he smirked, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips, collecting your wetness to savor the taste. The pornographic visual must have reignited the lust in you, as your glassy eyes quickly cleared and your wicked grin returned.

“Was I a good boy?” Dabi questioned smugly.

You repositioned yourself in a flash, straddling your hips over his, your slick heat rubbing over the pierced underside of his cock. You fisted your hands into the collar of Dabi’s shirt, roughly pulling him up until your mouth crashed into his.

Dabi’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, never unimpressed with your aggressiveness, before kissing you back with equal fervor. Your tongue delved into his mouth, curling against his, and you groaned as you tasted yourself on him. That fucking sound--shit, all of you in this moment--was so goddamn erotic. Dabi felt his dick twitch under you, so close to what he knew was going to be an absolutely magical pussy.

You smiled against his lips, your hands smoothing over his collarbones to rest on his shoulders. “Oh, yes,” you said, “a very good boy.” You raised your hips, one hand reaching to grasp his cock, teasing the head against your soaking folds. “So very, very good…” You bit your lip and moaned as you sank down on him.

Dabi’s head lolled back as he was overcome with the feeling of your tight heat enveloping him. “Fuuuck,” he sighed, hands instinctively gripping your hips. “God, you’re so fucking wet.”

You giggled impishly, languidly rolling your hips. It was nothing short of a tease, Dabi thought. “Mm it’s all for you, my good boy.” A moan ripped its way out of his throat, that sweet little nickname heightening the fuzzy pleasure encompassing his body. “Ooh,” you grinned, picking up the pace as Dabi allowed his torso to slump back to the floor. “You like it when I call you a good boy?”

Dabi refused to dignify that with an answer, already feeling the unmarred skin on his face heating up with blush. You retaliated against his silence by stopping your movement altogether. He let out a frustrated groan and tired to thrust up into you, but you pressed down more firmly, stifling his attempts. “Just--fucking move,” he growled, fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

Quick as a flash, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around his throat, tiny digits pressing against the arteries beneath his jaw. Dabi’s eyes shot open, craning his gaze to carefully peer at the woman atop him. You smiled down at him sweetly, still managing to look positively debauched. You shifted a little, the small ember of pleasure forcing an inhale from him, not that it helped the fogginess that was slowly overtaking his brain.

“I asked you a question,” you said. You raised and lowered your hips so, so slowly, your plush, hot walls clamping down on him. “Do you like it when I call you a good boy?”

The stubborn, rational part of his brain absolutely railed against the entire concept. He was not a good boy. He wasn’t even a good person. But the way you were saying it, that it was you saying it…

“Yes,” Dabi rasped.

You softened your grasp on his neck and Dabi’s brain was flushed with oxygen. The sensation was heady, his body tingling all the way to the tips of his fingers. You returned to your slow pace, and Dabi moaned, grateful for any sort of friction, even if it was achingly slow. “What’s your color, good boy? Do you want more of that?”

“So--ngh--so fucking green, babydoll.” You seemed pleased, the tempo of your thrusts increasing. “God, your pussy is amazing; fucking riding me like that--so perfect.”

“Mm,” you moaned in response to his praise, pace increasing in earnest. You’d lift almost all the way off, until just his tip was still cushioned inside, then smoothly slide back down, taking him to the hilt, seating his cock so deep inside you. “Keep saying sweet things and I’ll let you cum inside me.”

Dabi’s eyes were half-lidded in pleasure, already he was approaching his orgasm, even more intensely than the first time. And with your filthy mouth saying such enticing words, Dabi knew he wasn’t going to hold out much longer.

“Choke me again,” he commanded.

Your expression was nothing short of delighted. “Now that is a sweet thing.”

Dabi screwed his eyes shut when you replaced your hand and squeezed, that pressure making his whole body figuratively ignite. You rode him with determination now, gasps and pants and little moans falling from your lips as you began to lose yourself in your own pleasure.

He could feel the molten heat pooling at the base of his spine as black dots began to crowd his vision. His fingers tightened into your skin, surely leaving bruises that would match the splay of his hands.

“Are you gonna cum?” You panted above him. “I can feel you’re on the edge. Come on, be my good boy. Be my good boy and cum for me, Dabi.”

Right at the precipice, you withdrew your hand from his throat. The rush of blood flow coupled with your breathless entreaty had him cumming harder than he ever had in his life. Dabi gasped as the pleasure overtook him, then settled into a low groan as you milked his cock of every last drop.

You settled on his lap, face the perfect picture of satisfaction. “Fuck,” Dabi cursed on a sigh, running one hand through the sweat-dampened locks at his forehead. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You giggled as you dismounted from him, nonchalantly stepping over to your discarded leggings, leaving Dabi to lie on the cold floor and resituate himself, feeling thoroughly used in the best way.

He tucked himself back into his pants and looked over in time to see you pull your leggings on, not caring at all about the drips of his cum painting the insides of your thighs. Fuck, if his soul hadn’t just left his body, he’d be up for round two after seeing that. But right now he was craving a smoke and a nap, and wasn’t looking forward to the trek across town to his bed.

Dabi sat, blue eyes fixed on you still, one elbow resting across his raised knee. His sex-addled brain was still trying to process what had just happened when you turned to him, your usual sweet, disarming smile in place.

“That was a lot of fun,” you said. “Maybe next time I can be your good girl.”

Dabi’s following smirk was entirely involuntary. “I think that can be arranged.”

#my hero academia #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #dabi x reader #NSFT #minors DNI #bnha x reader #mha x reader #y'ever wanna just ch*ke somebody when they're being a smartass?#and also f*** them?#here we are

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