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dabisqueen · 1 year

Text

virgin call

Incubus!Dabi x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: roughly 5.7K

⇢ plot: unknowingly, you summon an Incubus. Just smut, no plot.

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, the reader is a bit under the influence of incubus aphrodisiacs, oral (m receiving), throat bulge, deep throatpie, oral (f receiving), size kink, belly bulge, cum kink, breeding (kink), loss of virginity, mentions of blood, kind of consensual unprotected sex (maybe dubcon) an*l sex, overstimulation, multiple creampies, double-dick

⇢ personal note: it just came over me because an anon mentioned this… thank you! Submitted to the "ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔣𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔰" collab by @/nymphoheretic

Thanks to @/blankexpressions-and-falsefires for being my beta again– you're my writing-soulmate! 😘

Your attempt at conjuring a spirit went– let's just say, it was pretty unspectacular. After having set up everything, and singing the summoning chant—

—nothing happened.

So here you find yourself kneeling on the floor, trying to scratch the spilled wax off the cheap linoleum tiles with your chalk and salt-stained fingers. The only thing spectacular about this summoning is the mess it had produced.

If only you had summoned a cleaning spirit.

You sigh. It is just another sign pointing to your miserable life. This project has been a disaster– like everything else in your life. You have no friends, can't keep a single plant alive in your apartment, only have a low-paying job as a cashier and—

—you're still a virgin at age 22.

So much for not being pathetic.

You exhale in frustration, finally managing to clean up everything and pull the faded rug back into its place.

After disposing of the remnants of your failed invocation, you take a quick shower and go to bed. Turning off the light of the crooked bedside lamp, you sink your head onto your pillow and close your eyes.

So precious. I want to make you mine.

You sit up in bed, taking several heaving breaths, sleep still fogging your brain as the echoes of that voice continue to linger in your ears. Confusion washes over you as you come to realize that it's night and you are in your room, having just woken from a dream.

So sweet—

That low sultry voice speaks again, close to your ear– and you jolt. You swear you can feel the warmth of a breath on your skin. You spin, panic rising in your stomach. Yet, as you look around you, the full moon outside only casts its dim light on the scarce pieces of furniture that you own.

There is no one in the room with you and no evidence that there ever has been. Still, you swear you heard a voice. After your beating heart calms down again, you convince yourself that it was just a vivid illusion, caused by your earlier attempts at spiritualism. You lay down, tucking yourself in again for the night, until sleep finally takes over.

It starts like feathers on your skin, traveling up your exposed arms, your inner thighs. It makes you squirm in your sheets when more of them trail up your naked stomach, tracing the fullness of your breasts before grazing your hardening nipples. They feel like fingers, dozens of them, sliding over your body, making you squirm in your bed, an unknown heat starting to settle in your core.

The fingers are reaching for you, their tips ghosting over the skin of your naked body. These sensations take over your mind when they start running over the points of your body that are most sensitive, concentrating their effort on heightening your growing pleasure. You feel wetness pool in your underwear, dripping down your thighs.

You can barely process these sensations, your mind lagging, clouded. All these fingers on your skin– you are overwhelmed by how good it feels, each touch more intense than the next. They graze over your nipples again, perking them into sensitive little nubs while you get wetter and wetter. It is so much that the pleasure converges, sparks starting to ignite in your core.

The fingers continue to touch — so eager on your skin, heightening every little jolt of pleasure. A little shock runs down your spine and you whimper. This feels too real as if it isn't a dream at all. You are so close. If only a few more minutes—

Do you want to cum?

The voice is there again. Too taken up by pleasure, your mind is starting to float somewhere above your body, far away. You writhe and gasp between moans, “Yes.”

The voice chuckles. The fingers intensify their ministrations and you arch.

What will you do for me to fulfill this wish?

You are succumbing to a fog of heavy desire. Before your pleasure peaks into a white-hot light, you scream, “Everything!”

You wake up, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body, the afterglow of your orgasm still rippling through you, making your soaked pussy throb. Your heart is pounding loudly in your ears

Yet, not solely from the pleasure– it's also from the feeling that something is off.

A dark, silky voice breaks through the darkness– the same voice that spoke to you in your dreams.

"Did you enjoy that?"

Your eyes widen, the mental fog clinging to you slowly dissipating. As they adjust to the darkness, you see him standing at the side of your bed. He is strikingly handsome, sensually carnal. His great black wings unfurl and span the width of your small apartment. Patches of gnarled purple skin adorning his face and body are complemented in color by horns protruding from the top of his head, nestled amidst inky black windstrewn hair.

But his most breathtaking feature isn't the wings or the horns. It is his piercing blue eyes that seem to glow in the darkness. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver up your spine. That and the fact that he is–

–completely and shockingly naked.

Your gaze drops instantly, yet not without having peeked at his massive flaccid cock, hanging heavy and thick between his thighs.

He tilts his head down at you imperiously, his lips upturning in a mockery of a smile. "Like what you see?"

You gasp and blink, trying to ignore the rising blush on your face. He steps closer, smirking down at you, looking every bit sinful. He radiates such sexual confidence that it has you taking shallow breaths, chills of pleasure arise in your body as wetness resumes pooling in your underwear.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you try to ignore your body's reaction, mumbling dazedly. "Who are you?"

He tilts his head, drawing attention to the set of horns on his head. You stare as piercing blue eyes take you in. "You summoned me, sweetheart. You should know."

His seductive, low voice surrounds you, floats through you, and seeps into your brain.

"I w-what?" You ask, dumbly.

He just smirks. It takes you a moment to realize what he is saying. But then it hit you.

The conjuring.

"I didn't think that—" Blinking slowly, you stare at him. "I mean, I wanted to summon a spirit— not a demon."

“You don’t even know what you’ve invoked, do you, little human?” He purrs, his husky voice so pleasing to hear.

“N-no,” you admit.

He moves faster than you anticipate, the mattress dipping under his weight as he suddenly hovers above you.

"Sweetheart, when a virgin is calling a spirit, you know there's only one creature answering her calls." His face aligns beside yours, his lips brushing the rim of your ear as he whispers, "An incubus."

Your heart races a million miles a minute as you clench your thighs to suppress the throb between them.

"And now that I am here," he straightens up and grins down at you devilishly, "I'll have you take responsibility for stirring up a thirsty one."

The way his voice sounds through you causes your core to pound with pleasure. Goosebumps rise on your skin and even more wetness pools in your panties. A sinful moan rips from your mouth as he chuckles, low and seductive.

“What is happening to me?” You ask.

“You're in the presence of an incubus. Your body is reacting–" He tilts his head, deep azure irises tracing the features of your face. “Cause it knows it's mine."

“It's– I'm not…" you whisper, clenching your thighs in an attempt to keep the heat at bay.

"Aw, little thing," A low chuckle rumbles through his chest. "There's nothing you can do about it.”

You slowly scramble backward in an attempt to get away from him– until suddenly you can't go any further and your back is pressed against the headboard.

His smirk never breaks as the demon moves, one large, claw-tipped hand closing in on you. You inhale sharply as it hooks under the seam of your shirt, pulling it down and taut– before you hear the fabric rip. His claws keep slicing your shirt to pieces across your front, making your breasts spill out.

"You will only come for me," he muses, "on my cock, from now on."

Oh god…

You have no thoughts, the chill of the cool air drifting over your skin making your nipples bud up. You suck in a sharp breath, another surge of heat rippling through your body.

"I fulfilled my part of the bargain, now it's your turn—” his eyes rake down your body like a caress, stopping at the point where your legs converge. "You will be bred, filled with my seed."

Despite the ominous threat, you can't help a moan from bubbling up your throat, your pussy throbbing at his words.

“I-I don't want that!” You stammer, swallowing thickly.

“Oh doll, your body is telling me otherwise.” he chuckles, deep blue eyes twinkling. “You're aroused just by the thought of it. I can smell your slick, feel the heat of your cunt.”

Oh boy is he right.

He moves close and, looking down at you, leans forward, one hand supporting his weight on the side of your body while the other traps your jaw underneath his clawed fingers, propping it up, forcing you to make eye contact with him. The sharp horns crowning his head loom over you and block out the dim light of the moon, making the demon's eyes gleam.

"You will beg–" You can see his azure irises swirl, drawing you in, "–beg me to fill you up, over and over again."

At his words, the ache in your core grows even more intense. Your pussy pulses with desire, releasing another surge of slick. You feel it dripping out and down your ass while he chuckles deeply.

"N-No—" You lie– obviously.

An unreadable expression crosses his face, then he gives you a wicked smirk before he dips down, hovering his mouth over yours.

"Oh, you will…" You can feel his hot breath fanning your lips, seeping into your lungs like an aphrodisiac.

You inhale deeply, his scent intoxicating. It has your blood buzzing in your veins and brings a pleasurable fog rolling into your head until it spins. Your pupils start to dilate, the heat inside your core burns unlike anything you have ever felt before and a deep moan erupts from you. Totally delirious, you can't stop the drool from spilling past the corners of your mouth, your core getting wetter by the second.

You realize that you want this– you want this so badly. His presence, his scent, his voice… all about him just makes you feel pleasure– yet you want to feel more than that. You want to feel everything. It's then you know that he owns you.

“Please…" you moan.

"Please what?" Knowingly, his soft lips brush yours, sending fiery-hot sparks through your body.

"Please pleasure me." You sob, desperately.

He sits back on his heels, smirking, the cock between his thighs now fully erect. You blink as you stare at it. It is huge, the thick crown of it a reddish hint, leaking so much precum, it trickles down its underside, dripping onto the sheets.

“Come here.” He crooks his fingers.

Part of you wants to fight it– the pull you feel toward him. But your body reacts on its own, crawling –no– gravitating toward him without conscious thought. He palms the erection standing proud and stiff between his legs while watching you from above, eyes heavy with lust. His free hand rises to wrap around your throat.

“Open.” He demands, the other hand holding the base of his thick cock.

Obediently, you open your mouth, sticking out your tongue. The head of his cock, hot and heavy, slips between your lips and sits thick on your wet muscle.

“Close.” He growls and you do, wrapping your lips around him.

The incubus' scent is intoxicating down here, the taste of his precum delicious and salty. Without conscious thought, your eyes flutter shut as your tongue swirls around his cockhead, greedily dipping into the slit.

The demon grits his teeth, baring his canines. His hands go to the sides of your head, long fingers tangling into your hair to shove you down his shaft. A whine rips from your throat and you gag the first time his cock touches the back of your throat.

“Suck it,” he commands, tilting his head.

You raise your hazy eyes, misted by tears, to see the demon staring down at you with hungry eyes while his hips start to move forward and back slowly, restlessly.

He's gentle, yet commanding and you love it. You've never felt so wanted or needed. With your lips coated in a mixture of precum and spit, he starts thrusting forward harder now, his clawed hands holding you in place. Each time you sink even further down on his cock, swallowing every inch that fits into you.

He goes deeper with each thrust, making sure his size hits the back of your throat every time. And even though you're being painfully stretched, all you feel is pleasure, delicious and intense, and a pooling between your legs. Still, the incubus gazes down at you with a frown, despite your best efforts.

“You can do better,” he coaxes. "Relax."

With that, he bucks his hips forward, holding them there, as you gag and sputter around his length. His grip on your hair tightens, and with a final desperate breath of air, you relax your jaw and his cock slips into your throat with ease.

“Such a good girl,” the demon purrs as your nose grazes the unruly patch of hair at the base of his cock, your throat bulging.

Tears spill down your cheeks as he starts moving again, the wet slap of his constant thrusting filling the otherwise quiet room.

With his slow yet steady rhythm, you get used to his length sliding into you, learning how to breathe despite his intrusion.

“You’re taking me so well.” His brilliant turquoise eyes gaze down at you, your throat tightening around him at his praise.

Your lips stretch around the thick girth of his cock while warm spit dribbles from your mouth and covers your chin, building a sticky mess at the base of his cock. Your fingers grasp uselessly at his thigh while he uses you to chase his high. In that moment, he, his scent, and his heat become your very essence.

Looking up at him from beneath wet lashes, you distantly feel his thrusts becoming more erratic, turning into a rough grinding in your mouth, when he orders. “Now, swallow.”

It takes one, two thrusts before he stills, the obscene bulge in your throat proof of how deep he is buried inside of you. You don't taste it, just feel him spill his hot seed down your throat. His cock continues to twitch, unloading into you, filling your belly until you feel it stretch obscenely.

“Take it like the good girl you are," he purrs, "Take all of my cock.”

You obediently do, struggling not to gag around him, trying to take short shallow breaths through your nose.

Eventually, his cock slides heavily out of you, leaving a glistening string of saliva and cum connecting you. Sputtering and coughing, you try to catch your breath. The demon looks at you before one hand comes up to cradle your head, the other brushing soothingly over your hair. “You've done so well for me, little human.”

His thumb trails over your chin, wiping the drool off before he dips down, kissing your cheeks, lapping up all the salty tears that wet your face.

"Ah– virgin tears are so delicious," the incubus croons.

You let out a soft sob, leaning into his touch before he retreats, taking you in with glowing blue eyes and you shiver at the hunger you see in them.

Without warning, his mouth crashes on yours, hungry and demanding. He knows what he's doing– devouring your lips– and you can't help but moan, making his hot wet tongue slip into your mouth. The fire in you keeps burning as you lean into him, his lips dancing against yours. One hand raises to the side of your face, his fingers curl into your hair, angling your face to meld your lips deeper against his. He kisses with so much fervor now that he almost consumes you. You shudder against his kiss, your mind heavily clouded and you moan into his mouth, making him groan. He releases you, pulling back.

“Fuck, you’re too delicious." His eyes glow bright, filled with lust. "Now, it's time to fill you up, my little human."

His palm lays flat on your chest and he pushes you back until you drop on the mattress. He eyes your heaving breasts hungrily before leaning down to take a nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly, then soothing over it with his tongue.

“Oh God,” You let out a choked breath, half delirious.

"You can just call me Dabi." The demon chuckles against your skin, his scorching tongue swirling around your nub.

He casts you a darkly amused look and continues his ministrations until you are a writhing mess underneath him. Slithering down your body, his large hands grip your thighs and shove them further apart. He nuzzles your inner thighs, closing his eyes to inhale the scent of your arousal.

“Doll, who knew– you're at your peak.” His dark eyes rise to your face and he gives you a sharp smile. “My seed is gonna take perfectly.”

You pant heavily as he hooks a claw through the top of your panties and, pulling down, slices the fabric open, his eyes drifting to your exposed cunt. Dabi licks his lips and with a pleased purr, he bends his head, sliding his raspy tongue along your folds. It's hot and wet, as he gathers your slick on it, tasting your reaction to him before he fastens his mouth over it to suck at your soaked pussy.

You nearly keen off the bed, mouth falling open in a gasp of shocked pleasure, writhing in his firm grip. Dabi keeps tasting you, licking from the source of your heat all the way up to your clit, sucking your tender bud into his mouth as you squirm on the bed.

You whimper and squeeze your eyes shut– but all of a sudden, the sensation is gone, replaced by a sharp sting as Dabi spanks your clit.

“Eyes on me, doll,” the demon growls, baring his teeth.

Your eyes instantly shoot open, not wanting to disappoint– and a satisfied smirk spreads across his face.

"Good girl," he intones huskily, running his hand soothingly over your hips.

His voice is lust-saturated, sending hot arousal pooling in your gut, making your body thrum with need. It is a feeling you've never felt before. His eyes never leave yours as he drags the flat of his tongue up and down your core before nibbling and sucking at your over-sensitive nub. His palms trail up your sides to cup your breasts, squeezing them, like he's anchoring himself. Taking your nipples between his claw-tipped fingers, he rolls them between them, as he starts alternating between sucking and lapping at your swollen clit.

You are so overstimulated, the pleasure you feel a mix of ecstasy and agony. You sob and beg– yet your pleas go ignored. Dabi continues eating you out, sending desire running down your spine and pooling in your core. You start bucking into his face, needing more of this. Then a white heat flares up in your core and your thoughts are cut off by the force of your orgasm. You can't stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your skull, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan as the blinding pleasure rips through your body like lightning. The incubus pulls back to look down at the mess he made of you, how you lay below him, your body slick with sweat. Pleasure still rolls through your limbs, fogging your brain and vision and you barely register the demon as he hovers above you,

"I'm gonna fuck you until my cock is the only thing you can think of." His words send shivers up your spine.

You can't suppress it, your body wants just one thing– him. Your legs fall open, sinfully, and he slowly slots his body between your thighs, a claw-tipped hand running affectionately over your hair. He dips down, eagerly latching his lips on the pulsating vein on your neck, and pleasure floods your limbs, making it seep out of you. You feel his warmth pressed against you as he starts to gather your essence on his shaft. He grinds his hard dick against your swollen folds, mixing it with the copious amounts of precum that leak from his tip.

“This pussy– this body– they are mine,” he growls against your skin. "I'm gonna breed you now, claim you as mine."

"Dabi, please—" you sob, writhing in heat below him., "I-I can't."

"Yes, you can, my little human," he looks down at you with cerulean-colored eyes, "And you will."

A moan breaks from your lips, becomes a shudder as the pleasure intensifies with him thrusting along your folds now, spreading precum all over you. The endorphins flooding your system heighten your desires, overwhelming your doubts, and the urge to have his massive cock deep inside you becomes unbearable.

As if he can read your mind, he purrs, lazily, “Want my cock?”

"Yes please–" you whine, needily.

"How badly?" His voice is seductive, low, and husky.

"I need it!" It feels like you're burning up inside.

You gasp heavily when his hands sneak around your hips, pulling you up to align his throbbing cock at your entrance.

Dabi's smoldering blue eyes snap up to meet yours. "Are you ready to be bred?"

Part of you still screams no, yet your body desires otherwise. Your core is dripping, the sheets below you soaked. Your skin is hot, sweaty, and sensitive– and it feels like molten lava flows through your veins. You need him inside of you. It feels like a deeply seeded instinct to have this man– this demon– fill you up. Through teary eyes, you look at him. Dabi is so incredibly breathtaking– his chiseled features and captivating aura, his piercing blue eyes that are trained on you.

"Please, fuck me." You sob deliriously. "Fill me up."

"Good girl." The demon chuckles, his posture dominating as he begins pushing his hips forward.

The bulbous head of his dick presses against your passage before it pops in. You cry out, the stretch of his girth immense. Dabi quickly hits resistance but with another quick roll of his hips, it gives. Your cries turn into desperate moans as the demon keeps shoving himself further inside, slowly disappearing inside of you, inch by inch. His massive cock spreads you apart, forcing your walls outward. The stretch feels amazing and you can't stop yourself from succumbing to the intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure all in one. The second he bottoms out, you almost pass out.

"Ah– virgin pussy is simply the best," he groans, watching how your eyes roll back, his cock outlined in your tummy as your pussy keeps quivering around him.

After a few much-needed moments for you to adjust to his size, he pulls out. He looks down watching how his cock comes out, covered in your slick mixed with the color of crimson. Nudging the tip at your entrance, he spears into you with one swift thrust and you cry out again. The sudden sensation of being filled sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body. He’s so big, so long and thick– the feeling so intense. The demon smirks at your reaction and starts to thrust into you now, drawing sweet cries of pleasure from your mouth as you writhe beneath him.

“Such a fine cunt.” he inhales a sharp breath from between gritted teeth. “All mine.”

Your pussy is dripping onto his dick, lubricating it as he fucks you– hard, deep strokes that bring you closer and closer. You keep tightening up around him with each move, pleasure and pain wrecking your body and mind.

Dabi’s face moves close to yours, as he stares at you with lust and hunger, a predatory smirk on his lips that makes your belly churn. Every thrust is so delicious, amazing. You want more. Your incubus keeps whispering dirty nothings about breeding you, punctuating his words with powerful thrusts, all while his essence keeps sloshing around in your belly.

It's so obscene—

—yet so good.

He’s still sneering down at you when the tension builds up so high that you can’t take it anymore. It bursts, sending waves of pleasure shooting through you. Dabi continues to pound into you, your eyes rolling back, your walls clenching up around his cock again.

The incubus hisses, feeling you tighten around him. He keeps pleasuring your puffy cunt, balls slapping against your butt every time he sinks in, impossibly deep. The grip on your hips tightens, sharp claws digging into your flesh, piercing through skin until small drops of blood appear. But you're too out of it to feel pain– you just feel bliss.

Lifting your ass, his cock starts stroking along a spot inside of you that has your vision turn white. Dabi seems delirious as he stares down at where you both are connected. The wet sounds of him drilling into your pussy fill the room as he keeps impaling you on his cock over and over again. The little brain you have left working properly knows you’re a mess below him— drool running down your cheeks, tears cascading down your temples, dampening the pillow beneath you. And yet here he is, smirking down at you with no sign of exhaustion at all. It's quite the opposite to you– he seems to glow, a blue aura surrounding him that seems to flicker around his body and wings like caressing flames.

His hands slide to your thighs, pushing your legs back against your shoulders. You feel him slide his cock insanely deep, deeper than before– in a way that didn't seem possible. Each stroke into your convulsing hole is more intense, pouring more overwhelming sensations into your body. You’re moaning obscenely, with your insides stuffed impossibly full.

"I'm going to cum, precious." He warns. "Gonna fill you up. Are you ready?"

"Yes!" You moan needily.

"Yes, what?" He asks again.

"Come inside of me," you gasp for breath, struggling to think clearly, "Fill me up and breed me!"

"Good girl." He growls sensuously, sultry and low. "Gonna fuck my seed into you—"

He thrusts deeply one more time, and you shatter into a million pieces. Your pussy clamps down on his length almost painfully, milking him, and the incubus hisses. His wings extend fully, spanning the width of your small apartment bedroom as he throws his head back in ecstasy. His cock seems to swell before he releases rope after rope of his thick hot cum into your waiting womb.

"Ah yes," he groans. "Take it all— carry my offspring."

You hear his words but they're drowned by your pleasure, unable to comprehend the consequences of them. You are too far gone, head lolling and drool dripping from your mouth. Dabi stays buried inside you, copious amounts of cum pooling out at the base of his cock. The blue glow emanating from his body intensifies from all of the energy he's drained from you. You feel him, still hard, still ready for more and it sends sparks shooting in your brain.

"That's gotta do it," your incubus leans down to whisper against your ear, "But better to be safe than sorry, right?"

And with that, Dabi grabs you by your hips and flips you over. One hand clutches your neck to press your head into the sheets, the other lifts your ass up. Between one heartbeat and the next, he is looming over you. In your lust-fogged mind, you feel the heat of not just one but two dicks as he rubs them along your seam, coating himself in the ample mixture of your slick and his release.

"W-what…" you murmur, exhausted, face half buried in your sheets.

"Didn't know incubi could change form, huh?" He intones and you feel the pressure at your holes increase.

"Dabi—" you whine and try to wiggle your ass away from him. "It won't fit—"

He grips your hips, holding you in place, dwarfing you in your attempt to get away from him. Your breathing stutters as you tense up.

"Shh, doll, it's ok," Dabi soothes in his deep voice. It causes your pussy to quiver in anticipation despite the fear lacing your mind.

He dives forward, his canines grazing against the supple skin of your neck before he shifts closer to your ear and whispers, "Relax and give yourself to me."

At his words, you allow yourself to loosen up and he begins to press himself against you in earnest. With a grunt, he breaches your virgin asshole while his lower cock slides into your gaping pussy. You cry out in an exquisite mix of pleasure and pain and your hips flex in his hold. He holds you there, keeps you stretched around the fattest part of his cockhead, while you bite into your bedsheets, tears breaching your lash line.

Slowly, you get used to the stretch and the pain gradually changes into something else, something more pleasurable. Then, with one swift thrust, he drives himself fully into you, sheathing his two cocks into you at once. It sends tremors throughout your body before another rush of endorphins hits you like a wave. It's unlike anything you've ever felt before, and you moan his name as he withdraws and pushes into you again.

Dabi sets a demanding pace, and all you can do is fist the sheets as he rides you, pumping both dicks into you with vigor. The way he fills you feels obscene, his two cocks hitting you so deep. He's hitting spots that feel more amazing than anything you've felt before. You can feel the pressure building inside you and arch, pushing back into him. His pace quickens, and he fucks you with such force the bed creaks. This would normally concern you– if your brain were properly functioning.

"Your holes feel so perfect, little one," he groans, as he pulls out and drives into you again, hard, turning your whimpers into broken moans. "The best ones I've ever had–"

Your brain is shut down, little hiccups escaping you as your body moves solely on instinct. On lust. Another gush of slickness gets you even wetter, the messy slick sounds of your holes sucking him in echoing through the room. His hands close in on your neck, pressing you down as he pumps into you, your ass clenching around him as your pussy tightens around his cock. Your cheeks burn, your mouth opens in a silent moan and in the back of your head, you feel a powerful orgasm building.

"I'm gonna cum, doll." Dabi groans.

He lightly circles your swollen clit with the tip of his clawed finger, pushing you beyond a point you've never been before. With his next thrust, you feel your core convulse with a force unbeknown to you. Your mouth opens in a silent cry, no longer able to speak as the pressure throbbing between your legs releases and you feel yourself come undone. Clear liquid gushes from your core and drips onto the sheets below. Dabi lets out a low growl when he reaches his climax, driving himself in to the hilt, pumping his cum into your pussy and asshole. Your belly starts pudging outwards as his burning hot release floods your insides and you topple over the edge yet again, your holes milking his cocks for all their seed. His pace staggers and slows until eventually, he pulls out, glancing down to scrutinize the mess dripping out of your two holes onto the drenched mess of your bed sheets.

"I have to admit," he pants, the corners of his lips quirking up, "You're the best I've ever had."

He finalizes his statement with another solid plow forward.

For the rest of the night, the incubus plays with your body, making you cum until you lose count of how many times he shattered your world. Your holes are left creamy and white from every load he unleashes into you. Your eyes are stuck permanently in the back of your head from the constant pleasure wrecking your body. Your brain is non-functional, and your body is completely and utterly overwhelmed by the sheer number of times you came. The sun is just beginning to rise when he finally retreats and you slump bonelessly onto the bed, your entire body aching. The sheets beneath you are drenched with your sweat and your combined release. Dabi watches you intently, alternating between stroking your hair and your cheek. His wings come to shelter your body, their warm leathery skin gently caressing your form.

"You did well for me, little one." Leaning over you, his lips brush your ear as he croons seductively into your ear, "I think, I will take you with me. I sense that my seed has taken and I can’t bear to part with such a perfect little human."

You should be upset over these final words, retaliate against their implications. Yet all you feel is drowsiness and absolute bliss. Being filled with his warm essence, your lips pull up into a soft, satisfied smile and your eyes slip closed, exhaustion finally taking over.

thank you for reading! comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

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ectologia · 3 months

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BEAUTIFUL IS BORING

TOMURA SHIGARAKI, TŌYA TODOROKI (DABI), KEIGO TAKAMI X FEMALE READER

CONTENT ♱ COLLEGE AU, QUIRKLESS AU, PROFANITY, MISOGYNY, DRUGS, SEXUAL ASSAULT (DABI ON TOMURA), BULLYING, PUBLIC MASTURBATION, MALE MASTURBATION

THIS IS AN UNFINISHED PROJECT, AND PROBABLY WILL NEVER BE FINISHED but here it is anyway ;p

“Can I sit here?”

“I dunno’ can you?”

You draw back at his harsh tone and grating voice. He glares at you with the hint of a smile playing on his chapped lips. He was a peculiar looking fellow. His skin was pale enough to appear almost translucent like moonstone, while his hair sat a muted blue of kinked wave’s across his forehead and partly down his neck just reaching his shoulders, it would be easy to mistake him as albino if it weren’t for his leaden brows and eyelashes. His attire, bland, a black hoodie dusted in lint and white hair, his jeans sported the same but with ominous white stains sat flaking on the denim fibres.

You recollect yourself. “That’s my seat.” You gesture to the chair bowed beneath his tattered sneakers.

“You think?” He places his feet back on the ground with a simper, allowing you to settle down.

You catch how he scoffs at your colourfull stationery, murmuring something about “Women.”

“Why the fuck are you so close?” He hisses, scooting his chair to the left. You turn to him with your mouth agape, preparing to challenge his accusation with a remark of your own before the abrupt slam of a door has you both snapping your heads up to the front.

“Late again, Mr. Todoroki” Your teacher emits a long, audible breath as he pinches the bridge of his nose, turning to his computer.

“Traffic was bad.” He snickers feigning an apologetic pout as he greets a blond man sat at the front, grasping his fist in a tight hug and clapping him on the back while they laugh obnoxiously.

His hair, although dishevelled, glossed in a velvety palette of stygian, the thick locks dancing like silk ribbons against the light as he bounces. His skin is decorated in swirls of black, the tantalising illustrations streaming from his jaw, down to his neck and across his arms, sleeving him in a coat of ink. The contrast of the man’s overcast appearance pales in comparison to the bewitching cerulean of his eyes, placed amongst his pierced metal features.

You find yourself gazing at the man for an exceedingly long while as he saunters to his desk, slumping down into his chair with spread knees.

Shigaraki glowers at your shameless ogling, muttering complaints.

You ignore his mumbling, instead turning to him with a keen interest. “Who is he?”

He groans at your curiosity, turning back to face the front without responding.

“Hey, who is he?” You persist, leaning over the desk to garner his attention. From this angle, you’re able to behold every inch of his features. You notice the swathes of scarlet and flaking skin along the path of his neck and surprisingly angular jaw.

He glances to the side at your hovering form. From this angle, he notices just how your plush tits spill over the rim of the desk as you curl over it, the pliant flesh moulding and squashing as you stir.

His tongue writhes in his mouth, licking over his teeth before speaking. “Dabi.” He has to refrain from visibly recoiling, not only from how you beam at the information, but at the contemptibly stomach-churning taste of his name.

You turn back to the man in questionon, brilliant half-lidded sapphires hypnotising you. He licks his lips, the metal ball of his piercing clinking as he sends an intoxicating smirk your way. You watch as he leans over to his flaxen companion, the two conversing as their eyes flicker in your direction.

“Who’s the blond?” You ask, your eyes locked on the two.

“Keigo.”

The curt answer satisfies you. You take one last look before holding up your pen, a playful smile hidden beneath your hand. Shigaraki sees this, livid at your display before speaking once again. “I’de stay away from him, if I were you.” He trails of by the last few words.

“Who?”

“Both of ‘em.”

He takes his pen back up, turning away after his ominous declaration.

“Why?” You push, intrigued by his distinct contempt towards the two men.

He doesn’t answer. Collecting his belongings, he chucks his books haphazardly into his shoddy backpack before tossing it over his shoulder. “Just stay away from them.” He leaves you bewildered as you watch him filter through the crowded exit of the classroom, the group of students parting through the middle for him as if he were a disease ridden mongrel, his static waves flouncing against his face as he shoulders past the cluster of frowning pupils.

A cold sweat accumulates on the small of Tomura’s back. Travelling down across his taint and underneath his heavy ballsack as he pumps himself feverishly — stimulation his tip with his thumb and two forefingers, massaging the swollen glands as he humps the air. The subtle, wet fap of his cock echoes within the stall he had chosen to lock himself in. Chucking his head back, intoxicated by the pleasure. He braces himself, planting his feet on the tiled floor of the bathroom as his hips speed up, stuffing his chubby dick into his palm, fisting the overstimulated appendage to climax. “Oh shit, shit, shit, shit, shit..” He was entranced, spell-bound by you. The image of your glossy doe-eyes curtained by your long black lashes set on him, how you leant over the desk — how your fat tits practically spilled over onto his paper as you spoke to him, how you smiled at Dabi. He wanted it all to himself.

If it wasn’t clear, Tomura was not exactly popular, let alone with the ladies. You were the first ever female in his life time at this shit-hole of a school to actually give him the time of day, and not just to glare and snicker at his appearance and disturbed demeanour. He wanted more. He wanted you, dangerously.

He pleads to nobody, the hem of his hoodie clamped between his teeth while his jeans are shimmied to his mid thigh. Normally when he’d choose to masturbate in public he’d only ever expose himself as much as necessary, pulling his hardened cock out from the slit of his zipper to pump himself.

He couldn’t risk blowing his load all over the place, but then again..

“Come on, come on. Cum. Cum.” He chants to himself in a frenzy as though he was motivating the arrival of his orgasm, one harsh stroke after another.

“Yo! Tomura!”

The harsh crash of a fist swinging against the flimsy door startles Tomura, the abrupt spike of adrenaline causing ropes of milky white shooting from his puckered slit across his lap, squirting onto the floor. He grasps onto the side of the toilet seat, hitting it for relief as he twitches in a disturbed state of orgasmic euphoria. Squeezing his eyes shut as he grinds his teeth into the cloth of his hoodie.

“Stop jerking off your little pencil maggot and get out here.” Tomura flinches at the husky voice of the man stood outside, no doubt with his vexing accomplice.

He quickly tucks his softening member into his boxers, zipping his jeans up over the pudgy bulge of his cock and balls while he clumsily slips and slides in his own semen, the rubber sole of his sneakers squeaking in the slippery mess.

“Tomur—aaaa.. come out, come out.” Keigo sing songs, joining Dabi in his endeavour to beat the bathroom door down before Tomura has a chance to open it.

“Fuck, just a wait a second you pricks, I’m coming!” Tomura growls, cringing at the milky sheen coating his fingers as he mops the floor clean with the cheap, school grade toilet paper hung from the wall.

Dabi and Keigo halt in their ministrations, turning to each other with equally foul grins as they chuckle to themselves at his miscommunication.

“Yeah, I bet you are.” Dabi sniggers.

Tomura groans, roughly swinging the bathroom door open, missing Keigo by an inch as he jumps back, curling his brows. He shoulders past the two, his nose wrinkled in discomfort after having his orgasm ruined. He makes no effort to acknowledge either of them as he looms over the sink, scrubbing at his hands beneath the tepid stream of water. His eyes flicker up to meet Dabi’s fiendish stare, flinching as he sees a tattooed hand raise from his side.

“So..”

“You got the stuff?”

A heavy arm slings itself around Tomura’s boney shoulders, jostling his frail body side to side. Keigo stalks nearer to the scene with an equally hedonistic smirk plastered across his handsome face.

“Yeah, yeah. Just gimme’ a second, fuck.” Dabi is shrugged off as Tomura rummages through the adjacent slot of his backpack, carefully pulling out a miniature zip-lock bag stuffed with a snowy white dust.

“Holy shit.” The plastic is swiped out of Tomura’s pinched fingers instantly. Keigo raises it in the air, squinting at the powder through the rays of artificial white light.

While Dabi leaves Keigo to his drug-addicted, junkie shenanigans, he saunters closer to Tomura’s hunched form, staring at him through slitted eyes.

Tomura shifts under his scrutinising gaze. “What?”

“Who’s your new girlfriend then, Shiggy?”

“What?”

He sounds like a broken record.

Dabi chuckles, popping the joints in his fingers. “Don’t play dumb with me, Shigs.”

“She’s not my girlfriend, I don’t even know the bitch.”

Keigo appears on the scene like clock work, weaselling himself in next to Dabi, still clutching the non licet packet in his fist. “Woah, Tomura finally got a girlfriend?” He claps him on the back, a little to roughly for his liking as he’s almost sent forward on his feet. “Congrats man! I always knew it’d happen one day.” Keigo grins. “Now you can stop fuckin’ your fist ev—”

“She’s not my fucking girlfriend!” A set of crooked fingers raise to claw at his slender neck.

“Ah, we’re just messing with ya’ Shigs.” Dabi exhales. “But she’s pretty cute, no? Nice tits.”

Tomura grumbles and huffs under his breath, slowly sinking into the cotton of his hoodie. “I don’t care..”

“Sure ya’ do.” Keigo hovers in-front of him like a pesky fly while Dabi shadows him from behind, hooking to thick forearms underneath his.

“Bet’cha dicks all hard just thinking about it.” The two howl with boyish laughter as a tattooed hand comes down to squeeze Tomura’s bulge, jiggling the sizeable package in his palm.

Tomura thrashes in his hold. “Fuck off!”

The moment Dabi retracts, he’s cupping his crotch defensively. “Prick.”

By time Tomura’s managed to cool himself down from the direct assault, both men are slinking out of the bathroom with a curt flick of Dabi’s wrist.

“See ya, Shigs.”

Dabi stops in his tracks, allowing Keigo to glide past. “And don’t go talkin’ to any bitches without my permission, yeah?”

The way his figure slumps into the seat with a zealous glide has you perking.

“How come you’re so hap—”

The mismatch of red to yellow has you frowning.

“Hey, there.” Keigo props an elbow onto the desk, and with that, a chin in his palm, sleazing a lop-sided smile.

“Oh. It’s you.” You twirl and twist your pen in between your fingers.

His tongue darts out to wet the rosy, plumpness of his lips. “Disappointed?” Golden eyes squint at you from the creases of his seemingly never-ending grin.

“No, I—”

He shifts closer with a chuckle. “Excited?”

The corners of your mouth quirk up into a curt smile at his incessancy. “I’m not supposed to talk to you.”

He cocks his head like a raptor.

“According to who?”

The way you drift, scanning your surroundings as you attempt to think up a valid answer has his brows slanting.

“Come on, I ain’t gonna’ bite ya.” He leans forward, spidering a hand across the spine of your chair. “Unless you’re into that kinda’ thing.”

Warmth prickles the surface of your cheeks at his bold innuendo and proximity.

You can’t help but admit it makes you feel hot under the collar, being practically cornered and squished and squeezed between the ridge of your desk and Keigo’s pumped, muscular arms snaking around your back.

You’re unaccustomed to the scent of heavy sandalwood and spice. You’ve been sat next to Tomura in this god-forsaken class room for so long. You forgot what it’s like to be in the space, in the company, of a real man. A handsome man, a good-looking, charming, athletic, lady’s kind of man.

You trace his sharp features, where an exotic, smooth tropical caramel replaces rough, pale milky-white skin. Where sunset streaks of thick, flaxen copper and wheat replace threaded, creeping white tresses of silver locks. And slitted, rusted golds of pooling honey over-shadow deep, blood-red crimson rubies.

He’s handsome, that’s a given. He probably has women of all ages fawning, falling, tripping all over him. Begging to be taken out on a date just to be seen with him, or at the very least, to suck on his cock, for that teensy bit of stardom.

But he’s definitely not him.

“Get out of my seat.”

Two sets of eyes snap up to address the raspy croak. Shifting to meet Tomura’s stoic gaze.

“Oh, hey there Shiggy.” Keigo’s still smiling with those pearly white teeth, even making a point to slouch back even further into Tomura’s chair. “How’ve you been? I was just talk to your g—”

“I don’t care. Move.”

Keigo’s expression is unwavering, despite the sudden gloom that creeps behind his eerie grin like a dark storm-cloud.

“Now.”

Keigo unravels his crossed legs and leaps from his position within two beats, tutting.

“Sure thing, buddy.” A lazy hand rests atop the frail bones of Tomura’s shoulder, gripping and digging into the delicate surface. His petalled lips move to whisper into Tomura’s ear with a hushed growl. “Was just keeping it warm for ya.”

Tomura rolls the balled joint, shaking Keigo’s clawed hand off of him before collapsing into the chair with an incoherent grumble

“Hi, Tomura.”

“What?”

You click your tongue at his shifty antics, opting to turn back to the front.

“Why were you talking to him?”

“I wasn’t, he came ov—”

He scoffs, not even sparing you a second glance. “I told you to stay away from him.”

“Yeah, but I—”

“Just don’t talk to him. Or Dabi, they’re bad.”

“Bad, how?”

“They’ll hurt you.”

“And how do you know?”

The way his boney fingers tangle themselves into the cotton of his hood has you frowning “I just do.”

You find it best to just leave it there, as is. “How come come you’re late?” The way you cock your head has him feeling queasy.

“None of your fuckin’ business.” He grunts, adjusting the pudge of his crotch before folding his arms against his stomach and sinking down into his seat, the length of his spread legs completely encompassing the space beneath the desk.

You’re addled by how large he really is in comparison. Were is thighs always that thick, or had his pants just shrunk? He never takes his hoodies off so you’re in the dark about what kind of big, bulging muscles he could have under there. All it takes is a quick glance to your right to notice those veiny bear paws gripping his pen for dear life. His fingers are lithe and crooked, like they’d been broken again and again, whereas his knuckles were bruised all the same. A wall puncher perhaps? You already knew he had a bit of a temper.

UNFINISHED.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha smut #dabi #hawks #keigo takami #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut

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ghostbeam · 8 months

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Tomura shigaraki x reader, tomura is an art student, takes place in the same universe as my charcoal artist!dabi stuff, tomura is like very insecure in some of this, if the writing feels pretentious and flowery and unnecessary that’s because it is<3

His hair is getting long.

Running your fingers through the ends, you notice how it’s nearing his shoulders now. His head is in your lap, staring up at you as you lean against the mountain of pillows on your bed, clad in a pair of underwear and the tee shirt he arrived in. His jeans are stained with paint, hanging low on his hips, unbuttoned and quickly thrown on so he wasn’t naked and vulnerable in your lap. You thumb at the scar by the corner of his mouth and he kisses it, then your palm, then your wrist. Tomura takes your hand in between three careful fingers and places it over his heart.

Love is not how they told you it would be.

The two of you were assigned to the same group in painting iii, formed so that the students could give one another critiques independently. Only, you couldn’t find a single thing to critique in his work.

Tomura worked with oils—or Tomura lived and breathed and died for them. He painted people, always caught in a moment, in the middle of talking, or yelling, or drinking, or sleeping. His attention to detail was unlike anything you’d ever seen before, colors you’d never realized could appear in skin tones, shine on limbs and cheeks that made his subjects both more alive and human than any real person. His work felt sort of dirty, sweaty, perpetually damp. But it was beautiful. You couldn’t say a thing about it.

He’d confronted you about it one afternoon, stuffing handouts from the professor into his bag, which looked to be filled with more loose paper and no text books.

“Do you hate it that much?” It was the first time he’d ever talked to you, actually talked to you and not just about your work during a critique. “You never have anything to say.”

It stuns you for a moment, his anger and annoyance, how he’s decided to aim it at you instead of the group of people clamoring for issues with his painting all class period.

“I’m supposed to point out flaws, tell you where you could have done better, explain how I wasn’t moved,” you explain, staring down at your shoes, “but I can’t do that. There’s not—I don’t see how I could possibly tell you how you could do better.”

“That’s bullshit.” He mutters, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t just say what I want to hear. I won’t like you any more for it.”

He leaves you standing alone in the classroom. Like you? He thought it was about being liked? You’re in such awe of him that you can’t speak, and he thinks you’re just trying not to hurt his feelings.

During the next class, when he stands before your group for critique, you don’t say a word. And he keeps looking at you like he’s waiting for it, like you’ll be angry enough at him for last week that you’ll rip his painting apart. But your silent, once again. Nothing’s changed.

He’s the first one out of the class once you’re dismissed. He walks fast, and you’re out of breath by the time you catch up with him, resting a hand on his shoulder that he flinches away from. Your breath comes out in quick puffs that you can see, wrapping your coat tighter around yourself as you fix him with a glare.

“You’re wrong.” You say once he’s turned around. “I don’t care if you like me or not after critique. It’s not about sparing your feelings. I’ve never seen anything like what you do. And I watch you in class, and you paint like something is clawing it’s way out of you, like you need to do it or you’ll die.”

“You’re honest with everyone else but me.” He argues, unable to accept your words. You have real things to say to your peers. You don’t hold back with them. You make them better. Why couldn’t you do that for him?

“You are not everyone else.” You watch his eyes widen at your words, and if you had any shame, maybe you wouldn’t have said something so bold. “You’re leagues above all of us. Everyone knows it, and that’s why they’re harsh on you.”

Where you say nothing, your group rips into him, picking at each and every detail until there’s nothing left. He takes it all in stride, accepting their words like it’s absolute truth, and returning to his canvas with sunken shoulders and furrowed brows, concentrated on how he could be better. It’s exactly what they want.

He opens his mouth the say something, but stops, feeling a drop of something fall on his cheek. He looks up at the dark clouds above the two of you, and it begins to rain. He curses, taking a hold of your hand and leading you underneath the front of the design building.

“They’re harsh because I deserve it.” He points out, still holding your hand. You could say a million things right now, tell him in detail how moved you are by every piece he makes, but his hand is still in yours, and you don’t trust yourself not to trip over your words because of it. You can only shake your head.

“Why can’t you accept that you’re brilliant?” You question, exasperated. It makes him laugh, his smile being something you’ve never seen before. It makes you think of all the people who have seen this smile before, the stretch of his lips, the creases by his eyes. Had they felt this lucky?

“I think you’re crazy.” He tells you, knocking his knuckles against your head.

“Do you wanna go out?” You ask before you’re able to stop yourself. He leans away from you, surprised.

“What?” You can’t find the words to speak, to tell him you’re sorry, that it was uncalled for, that you’re a total creep. His face is red, you notice. He speaks a moment later, “yes.”

Rising from your lap, he leans over you, kissing your lips with as much tenderness as he had your palm. Your lips are his favorite thing to paint, second only to your thighs which he grips tightly as he wraps your legs around his waist.

When he’d met you, all full of hope and belief in him of all people, he’d thought of you as such a faraway thing. Unattainable. If you couldn’t talk about his work, there was no way you’d ever talk to him. But he was wrong, something he rarely ever is, your faith in him changing how he viewed his own art forever.

He paints you. He paints you a lot. He even paints the two of you together, though your faces are never in those ones, just bodies tangled together on one canvas. He’d call you his muse if you didn’t hate it. And besides, he knows you’re so much more.

If there had been something inside of him clawing it’s way out, you had noticed it, freed it, kept it safe with you so it wasn’t so agonizing to carry on his own.

No, it’s not how they told him it would be at all.

#tomura shigiraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #bnha x reader #ghost.drabble #ghost.writes #sorry was suddenly consumed by art school au thoughts #oil painter tomura u will always be famous #in my brain his work reminds me of Malcom liepke btw #soooo yeah #anyways it’s 4am I’m gonna go sleep now byeeeeee

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ailawritesfics · 1 month

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✎dabi, shigaraki x reader (separate)

✎cw: 18+ minors dni, spanking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, use of doll/slut/brat, 1 pussy slap

Poor little slut, whimpering and sobbing as you lay across his lap, Dabi's hand landing another resounding smack on your bare ass, making you writhe in his hold. "seven," your voice trembles, the stinging pain a contrast to how your fingers dig into your palms. His smile is sardonic as he looks at you through hooded eyes. Your ass red with his handprints was a beautiful sight to him, and each sob, each whine, each whimper sends ripples of pleasure straight down to his cock as he revels in the control and power he has over you. How he loved seeing you like this.

"eight," you cry out when his rough hand hits your ass once more, tears streaming down your cheeks. Eight is nowhere near the actual number of times he's spanked you, each time you did something he didn't like or because he just felt like it, he'd make count from the start all over again.

Then the torture continues, and you count just as he instructed you to: nine, then ten, then eleven, until you reach higher numbers and then, finally, he speaks with a smirk, voice low and dangerous,

"start counting from one again, doll, you missed a number."

You didn't. You know you didn't. But he's doing it on purpose. Just to prolong this little game of his, to see how much more you can take until the pain is too much.

But you do it anyway. You count as he spanks your ass raw again, and again, crying out for his pleasure.

You want it to stop, but you can't bring yourself to say anything. Not when his rough hand soothingly runs across your ass with the promise of release and pleasure when you listen to him and continue counting, the only problem is that you don't know how high you need to count before he decides it's enough.

"D-dabi, please..." you turn your head to peek at him, and the thread of his self-control almost breaks at the sight of your tear stained cheeks and your cute little pout.

He brings a hand to your face, wiping stray tears with his thumb before carding his fingers through your hair.

For a moment you think he'll show you some mercy. But then he pulls on your hair, keeping your head in place, making you look at him then he coos at you, a smirk on his lips, "Pretty doll, we're done when I say we're done. Now keep counting."

He has you bent over the mattress, face shoved into the pillows as Shigaraki's hands explore the expanse of your back. Dragging his hands over your shoulders, down to your thighs then back up to your hips, the texture of his artist gloves sending shivers down your spine as he kneels behind you, taking in the sight before him. Your fingers curl into the sheets as his hand lands hard on your ass once more. The choked sob that leaves you makes him grin wider. He's enjoying this. Enjoying seeing you writhe in his hold, reduced to a sobbing mess just from his hands alone and the pain he brings you.

You gasp in pain, bracing yourself on your arms when Shigaraki's hand hit your skin. You try to pull yourself towards the bedframe, grab on to anything to ground yourself.

You can't even remember how long he's been at it, and even if you try to form a coherent thought, his continuous spanking smacks the thoughts right out. You'll never admit it to him how you take some pleasure from the way he hurts you just as much as he does from seeing his handprints on your skin and hearing the sobs and whimpers slip from your lips. “Stay still,” he tells you, grabbing your hips roughly with both hands to keep you from crawling away.

He suddenly flips you over on to your back, a gloved hand landing a harsh smack on your cunt. He keeps his hand there for a moment, "you're just itching for another punishment, aren't you? you're such a brat." He revels in the reaction he received from you, that tearful expression he loved seeing.

He moves to unbutton his pants. He's all for punishments but he's not the patient type.

#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha imagines #mha smut #dabi smut #dabi imagine #dabi x reader #shigaraki smut #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki imagine

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thesakuragarnet · 4 days

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The Nightmare (Reverse Comfort Dabi X Fem!Reader)

Summary: Dabi’s outburst causes you to stir in the bed beside him, your vision blurred from heavy sleep, but you can make out Dabi’s form in the darkness, sitting up, hands raking through his hair. You can feel the bed getting warmer…the heat emanating from his body as his Quirk feeds into his emotions.

Tags: Dabi X Fem!Reader, Reverse Comfort, Second Person POV, light angst, bl00d, kissing, cuddling, established relationship, swearing

Word Count: 1,291 words

Tumblr Original <3

Touya Todoroki shrieks, pulling at his hair as he wakes up in an overwhelming fit, overheating and crying...or at least, crying as much as he can with burnt tear ducts. He grits his teeth so hard he’s worried they might crack. His fingernails catch on the scars under his eyes as he claws at his face, wincing as a small yelp of pain bursts from his lips as fresh blood streaks down, sullying the staples that should’ve been cleaned earlier in the week. Truthfully, he couldn’t feel a thing…physically…the small noise of agony was rooted in his heart. He hadn’t been doing well whatsoever; ever since the number one hero spot was just handed to Endeavor after everything he’d put them through…everything he’d painstakingly carved into Touya’s heart, Dabi couldn’t take it. It wasn’t fucking fair. None of it was fair. It proved that hard work meant nothing. All the training on the mountain…burning himself…hurting himself just to prove he was worth a shit. It meant nothing. It was all for nothing.

Dabi’s outburst causes you to stir in the bed beside him, your vision blurred from heavy sleep, but you can make out Dabi’s form in the darkness, sitting up, hands raking through his hair. You can feel the bed getting warmer…the heat emanating from his body as his Quirk feeds into his emotions.

“Dabi?” You yawn, rubbing your eyes as you try to sit up. “Are you okay?”

“I’M NOT CRYING!” He shouts angrily, whirling around, making you flinch at the roughness and desperation in his tone. His eyes widen when he watches you shrink back, blood pouring even more down his face as he starts swearing at himself. You know he has anger issues, but this is the first time he’s lashed out at you. His eyes are distant, brilliant turquoise glazed over, and the familiar smell of burning flesh permeates the air as thin plumes of flame begin to slide out of the left side of his face.

“Dabi, you’re burning up,” You mutter, your tone hinting at your panic.

He seems dissociated for a minute, acting confused…as if he doesn’t know his own name. He blinks before registering the dull burning sensation that he can barely even feel at this point. He barely registers that the side of his face caught fire.

“Shit,” He grunts, the corners of his eyes scrunching and his eyebrows furrowing as he takes in a shuddering breath. Ignoring his obvious breakdown, you get on your knees and approach. Your Quirk is Fireproof; it’s one of the main reasons you and Dabi had learned to click so much. You were the only one that could quell his flames. Tentatively, you cup the side of his face, pressing your palm into his skin and snuffing out the azure fire instantly. He closes his eyes, shoulders rolling, breaths staggered and shaking as his chest rises and falls. Your hand moves to run through his tangled black hair, fingernails gently scratching at his scalp, hoping to ground him in some way. Your heart twists at the rivulets of blood seeping down his face, staining the sheets beneath him as it drips down his chin. You can’t stand seeing him so broken like this…especially when he puts up that cold and callous front all the time. It’s such a stark contrast to the persona you’re used to.

“It’s okay…I’m right here,” You whisper softly, aware of how silly it might sound. Silliness aside, Dabi takes another deep breath, deliberate and slow, as if he’s breathing you in. His hands drop, shaking as he tentatively wraps his arms around you, burying his face into the top of your head. He mumbles something that sounds halfway between a curse and an apology.

“Can I ask what’s wrong?” You tentatively mumble, and Dabi’s hold on you tightens, his fingernails slightly digging into the fabric of your sleep shirt, just barely grazing your skin. He pulls back.

“Nightmare,” Dabi admits after a brief moment of silence, the word tasting sour on his tongue. A nightmare rooted in memories was the real truth, but he wasn’t ready to disclose that. You gently wipe the blood off his face with your fingers, cradling his jaw in your palms as his cerulean eyes glow at you in the darkness. You decide not to pressure him any further, letting the tense quiet wash over you as you hold each other. His arms are still firmly wrapped around you, eyes flickering from in the moment to staring far away.

“You wanna go back to sleep?” You yawn, well aware that it’s the middle of the night. Dabi simply shrugs, sniffling. Another beat of silence passes between you two. Carefully, your arms fall, draping around his neck in a gentle hug, awkward but tender. Gradually, Dabi softens in your embrace, melting toward you, body heavy and heart sinking as he lets his exhaustion settle inside him.

“C’mon,” You whisper, gently falling backward onto the mattress, Dabi’s full weight resting on top of you, arms still vice-gripping your body as he hides his face in your shoulder. Your hands explore further, delicately rubbing his back, being careful not to catch on any staples. Dabi sighs, heavy with unspoken sorrow. It makes your heart pang…you wish he gave you more leeway into his psyche. You so desperately wish you could help him…not fix him. He didn’t need to be fixed; he wasn’t some broken toy that you sought to change. But it was clear that he desperately needed to heal from something…something that was gnawing at his insides until it bled raw. Either way, you were going to stay by his side. You’d already made your decision. You were in love…embarrassingly enough, and, as far as you were concerned, so was Dabi.

You listen to the sounds of his breathing, intense and quivering, feeling the pressure of his chest expanding against yours. His breaths seem to calm the longer you trace your fingers along the length of his back, grounding him and tethering him to you…to the world…to his world.

“I love you…I don’t want you to think I don’t…I…I don’t know why I freaked out on you,” Dabi speaks, his raspy voice barely audible, straining as if he’s having to force the words out…as if he’s speaking against his will.

“I love you, too. It’s alright,” You smile solemnly, turning your head to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. He goes stiff when your lips connect with the thin strip of healthy flesh on his cheek, a shiver rolling down his spine before he relaxes once again. Dabi pushes himself up , looking down into your eyes before sweetly connecting your lips. You don’t cringe when you faintly taste the blood. You were used to it at this point. Dabi could keep up the charade that he was a monster, but you knew better…or at least…you were starting to. You were beginning to chip away at the harsh facade. You saw a side of him no one else got to see. The broad smiles. The light in his eyes and the ecstatic repetitive tapping of his feet when he got excited. He let the facade slip around you…but no one else.

Dabi keeps kissing you, one of his calloused hands brushing against your cheek, the cold staples in his wrist sending a shock through you. Finally, you separate, taking careful note of the way the corners of his mouth just barely twitch upward.

“I’ll be right here,” You promise as Dabi rests on his side beside you, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. You bring him in to cuddle, draping an arm over his shoulder as he hides his face in your chest.

“Goodnight, Dabi.”

"Goodnight."

#dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x you #reverse comfort #dabi my hero academia #ao3 writer #my hero academia fanfiction #fanfic #mha dabi #touya todoroki #touya todoroki x reader #todoroki touya #toya todoroki #dabi x y/n #mha touya #dabi todoroki #dabi angst

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crushmeeren · 4 months

Text

Art by @birf__ on X — link to their account here.

Warnings; Mentions of injuries, Cursing, Kissing, Marijuana Use, Vaginal Sex, Dirty Talk, Squirting, Fem Reader

Or: You just want to spend one more easy night with Dabi before the entirety of Japan goes to hell.

Note; this is a completely re-edited, revised, reworked version of my previous Dabi/Reader—I deleted the previous one.

MDNI

It’s almost funny, you think, as you lean against the wall of the Leagues newest hideout. The reason you were convinced to join the A team in the first place—to go a long with Shigaraki’s convoluted plans.

It wasn’t Stain. Hell, it wasn’t even Shigaraki himself. It sure as fuck wasn’t All for One.

No, it was the scarred, absolutely deranged, blue eyed psycho that has daddy issues. The man who creates flames that burn over 2500 degrees celsius at their hottest, higher than Endeavors. The bastard.

To be fair, you didn’t know he had daddy issues when you saw him on TV for the first time. Yet, you saw the emotion in his eyes. Rage.

It flared, crackling brightly—hotter than the flames he produces himself.

It forced something to melt and seep into your bones, making your skin feel too tight, itchy, in an all too familiar way. You recognized another emotion on his face, one you were well acquainted with. Revenge.

You stopped at nothing to seek him out after that. Inevitably, you found him.

Now here you are, watching Dabi make, what equates to, a self-introduction video.  You’ve heard the story from him multiple times, you’ve seen him make the video over and over again. He’s shared his past and you’ve shared yours. You know people say Dabi may not feel much, hell even he says that. They say he’s heartless, cold, insane.

And—he is, but he’s also much more than that to you.

He’s kind to you, in his own twisted way, but he loves you, as much as he’s able to.

Which compared to “normal people” is actually quite a lot. Some would place him on the level of obsessed, unhealthy.

Although, who are you to judge? You act the exact same way towards him. Both of you would incinerate the world for each other, literally.

You also know he wants this video to be his own version of Dantes Inferno, about his journey navigating through hell since he was a kid.

You’ve had many conversations with Dabi about how much of a toll this takes on him. As if he’s weighted down by concrete tied to his ankles. Usually he gets so worked up that smoke ends up seeping through the seams of his staples by the end of it.

Nevertheless, he’s releasing the video tomorrow—whether it’s time for Shiagaraki to wake the hell up or not. No matter what, it’s going to rock the hero society. It’ll crumble the facade they have worked so hard to maintain. You’re lucky enough to know who he really is, the rest of the league, and the world, doesn’t. Yet.

You’re here for support, to make sure he actually gets the video fucking done, before you’re heading off for the day. Doing some sort of asinine errand for the Doc to help keep Shigaraki’s ass alive while he soaks in that vat.

You already decided that later tonight, you’re going make sure Dabi remembers he’s got you to come home too. No matter what happens after the world sees behind the veil.

After some time, you’re still leaning against the wall on the side of the room. Letting little flames ignite from your fingertips, just playing around, having one flame dance from finger to finger.

It’s another thing that had attracted you to Dabi. Even though flame quirks are a dime a dozen, and his flames burn hotter, it made you feel like you were similar, in a way.

Noticing that he’s stopped talking you look up, putting out the flame with a wave of your hand. You watch him walk to the camera to turn it off.

He was shirtless for the video. It shows off how lean he is, but it also shows all the burn scars that cross his chest and torso, up his neck and under his eyes. His hair is white right now and the staples holding him together shine under the light from overhead.

For a beat you remember how cool they feel pressing against your skin when Dabi pins you face down on the bed.

Your body flushes, warmth churning in your belly.

Being in love with a man like Dabi means he takes up most of the space in your brain, running wildly through your thoughts constantly.

To add on it’s not just Dabi you love, it’s Touya too.

You’re desperately aware of the fact that you’re not doing a very decent job of hiding the way your eyes trail his body when he speaks up. His smooth, smoky voice rumbling from his chest.

“You know, it’s rude to stare baby,” Dabi murmurs, inclining his head slightly to look at you. His gaze is sharp but his lips are pulled into a lazy catlike grin.

Embarrassment shoots through you, burrowing into your cheeks. A swarm of butterflies ravages you.

Using your hands, you set them behind you and you push off the wall, trying to form a response. Nobody else but Dabi makes you act like you’ve swallowed your tongue whole.

“Maybe I just like what I see,” you tease, trying to ignore the obvious flush of your chest and neck. Dabi turns to face you as you walk up to him.

You can’t get over the way he looms over you, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. The grin never leaves his face. He tugs playfully at a lock of hair that had fallen from your bun, making it seem as if you’ve swallowed cotton balls.

“Oh? You’re one to talk. I could fuck you where you stand and you’d let me,” he flirts, looking oh so casual the whole time.

Dabi twirls the same strand of hair around his finger tightly, before letting it go.

The man radiates fucking heat and it’s a bit like standing too close to a bonfire. It toes the line of too hot, as if your skin would start to melt if you got too close.

Your eyes flutter shut from the familiar warmth, and you taking a deep, steadying breath — willing away the lust that threatens to turn your insides to ash.

You desperately try to remember that now is not the time to let Dabi fuck you silly.

You reluctantly take a step back, only now realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Later, you remind yourself, trying to cool down.

Dabi pushes out his lower lip, pretending to pout.

“Dabi, c’mon, you know I’ve got to go soon. I just wanted to make sure you got this finished today,” you say with hesitation.

Dabi rolls his eyes, no doubt irritated they have you doing bullshit errands. You get it, you feel the same, but you know it’s just less of a hassle to get it done.

It’s not like you don’t want Shigaraki to wake up soon. The crazy, itchy fucker has grown on you.

Besides, you want to get the plan moving and all. Dabi knows this, yet it still pisses him off. He waves a hand dismissively, before turning back to the camera.

“Whatever, go on then,” he bites coldly. Your lips press into a line, the sting of hurt pulsing in your chest briefly.

You shove your hands in your pockets and turn to leave without saying much else. You’re not willing to get into it with him right now, the video has clearly already got him riled up.

Before you can take a step, a blistering palm grabs your forearm, turning you back around. You raise an eyebrow as you meet his intense gaze.

“Yes?” you bite back. Dabi stares down at you, hand trailing down to grip your wrist, wrapping his fingers around as a bracelet. His expression stays sharp, blue eyes piercing.

“Just come back to me tonight, okay?” Dabi demands, an underlying note of concern lacing his tone.

You can’t hold back the smile that pulls at your lips, previous hurt washed away by your adoration for the deranged man in front of you. You nod.

“I will Touya,” you whisper softly.

You tend not to use his real name often, only when you need him to know you’re serious.

It makes his eye twitch, his stomach more often than not twisting in fury when he hears it.

Not with you though. The way his name falls from your lips—he’d be remiss if he didn’t admit it soothes the open wound it’s left behind.

Without another word, Dabi bends down, brushing a kiss over your cheek, letting your wrist go. Your skin tingles where his lips were, the rough texture of his lower one always tickles. You smile softly.

Swiftly you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth in return.

“Love you too, dickhead!” You call out playfully, letting the door swing shut behind you. Dabi scoffs watching you go, but he wears, a small, loving smile at your jab.

He already wishes for the night. As long as can be with you again.

————————————————————

You’re covered in soot and ashes. Smelling like a fucking bonfire gone wrong. The flesh of your hands is singed, stinging, and you curse internally when you curl them into fists.

Generally, it happens when you overuse your quirk. The skin sizzles, steam rising from the reddened flesh. You shake your hands out as you walk, thanking God that it looks worse than it is. It’ll heal relatively quickly.

You’ve managed to procure only a couple bruises though, so you count yourself even luckier. You know Dabi will be fucking pissed either way.

You always have to talk him down from eviscerating the Doc when you wind up coming home banged up from one of his errands.

To top it off, it’s way later than when you normally return from these idiotic missions. It’s well past midnight and you’re sure Dabi is close to committing arson.

The job was a waste of your time. Granted, you admit you may have been a little distracted. You couldn’t stop thinking about the night that lay ahead of you and Dabi.

It’s hard to burn down that many buildings, discreetly, when you’re not focused 100%. You almost got caught at the last building.

Hence the new dark purple splotches covering your left bicep. They throb slightly when you accidentally brush your fingers over them. It’s a miracle you made it out, but you’re not telling Dabi that.

Walking into the front door of the, more or less mansion that is the hideout, you notice it’s quiet in the living room.

None of the usuals that hang out are down here. You look around quickly, thinking maybe you’d catch a glance of Dabi. You scowl when you don’t see his spiky white hair anywhere. You swiped something on the way home, an item that will help the two of you relax. It sits heavy in your back pocket.

You desperately want the two of you to enjoy the night before the world explodes into chaos tomorrow.

You slip your hand into your pocket, just to make sure it’s still there. Your finger tips trace the pre-rolled joints you snagged. You smile coyly to yourself, feeling your heart beat harshly against your rib cage.

A pleasant shiver rolls down your spine as you recall the last time you and Dabi had sex higher than a kite.

Smoking weed isn’t necessarily something you and Dabi do often, but when you get the chance you certainly take advantage of it.

How could you say no? Your body feels relaxed and warm, like your joints are made of butter. The pleasure is always dialed to a 10.

You know Dabi fucking loves it, the one chance he gets to truly relax. You make your way to the stairs as you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over your thoughts.

You’re hoping that once Dabi sees you’re okay, and that you have joints, he won’t be too tempted to set the mansion on fire.

You walk swiftly to your room. You pass by Mr. Compress on the way, the two of you wave in greeting. The sound of your combat boots echo on the wooden floor as you round the corner, stopping at your door.

The door is closed but that’s not unusual. Eagerly, you turn the handle and push open the door. It’s pitch black inside. That…is odd actually. Your grin quickly fades as you step inside, curious, you flip on the low light to the room.

Dabi’s not here. You feel an unwarranted flash of irritation at the realization.

As cliche as it sounds, recently you’ve been finding him playing some sort of game on his desk top computer. You’re not sure he’s ever played one before now and he seems to thoroughly enjoy it. Your chest warms as you think about him getting to experience some sort of normalcy.

However, he’s not at the desk. He’s not anywhere in your room. You shut the door behind you and walk in further. Shoving the feeling of annoyance down your throat, you remind yourself that the villain has got to be somewhere around the hideout.

Hoping he’ll pop up soon you decide it’s best to take a shower. To wash off the layer of disgusting ash you’re covered in.

Setting the joints on your dresser, you strip your nasty clothes off and throw them to the side. You grab one of Dabi’s shirts, one with a skull on it and nothing else before making your way into the en-suite bathroom.

As you stand under the spray of the scalding water, it feels unbelievable. The water acting as a much needed massage for your sore muscles.

You scrub yourself clean, hissing as the soap causes a burning sensation in your hands. You examine the newly pink, sensitive skin of your palms and flex your sore fingers.

The curtain suddenly rips open halfway and you scream loudly, arms flailing wildly. Your head whips to the side, heart in your throat as you see a smug looking Dabi. You place a hand on your chest, pulse thundering.

“You fucking jack ass! You scared the shit out of me! Where the hell have you been?” you shout, angrily flinging water at his face.

Dabi laughs as he brings his hand up in surrender, covering his face from your retaliation. You let out a frustrated noise, quickly turning the water off to face him. You push roughly at his chest, wetting his shirt and he grips the shower curtain with one hand for balance. He’s still fucking laughing.

“I got restless waiting for you. I was with Spinner, who wouldn’t stop yapping about some new video game. I saw Compress and he told me he saw you on your way up. I wanted to fuck with you.” He grins wolfishly, pretending to wipe a fake tear of amusement from his eye. The staples near the corner of his mouth tug at his skin.

You scowl, glaring at him playfully.

“You’re the biggest dick I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting, ya know that?” you chastise him, unable to stop yourself from grinning widely at his relaxed demeanor.

Truthfully, you know nobody else sees this playful side of Dabi. The fact that you’re privy to it, it’s like knowing the world’s greatest secret. You want to put it in a box and keep it safe forever.

“Is that right? And yet, you’re the one who continues to stay with me, princess. I’ve just got you that cock drunk for me, don’t I sweetheart?” You blush violently at his teasing, but there’s absolutely no denying it.

Dabi smirks, taking the chance to let his gaze lazily trail up and down your wet, naked body. Slowly appreciating your form, and biting the tip of his tongue.

You wiggle your eyebrows playfully, popping your hip out, placing your hand there. It pulls an amused laugh from him and he winks at you. The sound of it sets your nerves alight.

Suddenly, you feel Dabi go stock still. The air raises a few degrees as his expression distorts into something feral, his happy mood vanishing.

Your stomach knots up and you shift your weight from foot to foot. You know he’s found the new, rather large, bruises peppering your left bicep. Delicately, he trails his fingers over them with his free hand. You wince.

The sickening scent of burning plastic starts to flood your nose. You glance over, panicking slightly when you see Dabi’s melting the shower curtain in a death grip.

“Touya!” You gasp. “I’m okay, really, I’m fine. Please, look at me baby,” you soothe, gripping his wrist to try and yank him free, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. You place your free hand on his cheek, forcing his manic gaze to meet yours. “It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention,” you continue in a gentle voice, running your thumb over the scarred flesh under his left eye.

His snowy white eyebrows pinch together, and he lets out a pained sound, hesitantly letting go of the curtain. You swiftly take the opportunity to lace your fingers with his.

You take a peak at the curtain again, noticing a hand print has been permanently melted into it. Touya tugs on your hand harshly, asking for your attention.

He stares intensely at your face, pupils tracking back and forth rapidly, looking wild. When he speaks, it’s as if he’d swallowed a handful of gravel.

“Those goddamn idiots!” He snarls. “Sending you out, letting you get fucked up. If I fucking see that Doc again before Shigaraki wakes up, I’m incinerating him,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth. He’s furious, tone low and menacing.

It definitely does not turn you on.

Touya tangles his fingers through the wet hair at the nape of your neck, squeezing painfully. Your breath catches, scalp tingling.

A torrent of warmth rushes through you, pussy clenching eagerly around air.

It never fails to turn your brain to mush when he’s like this. Protective, possessive. It makes syrupy heat drip down your spine.

You shiver, not just from the chill of being naked, when you realize you’re still dripping wet. Unfortunately, you need a towel.

“I know Touya,” You laugh shakily , wanting to redirect his anger. “ I won’t stop you, promise. Let’s not allow those dumbasses to ruin our night, okay?” You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I brought a surprise for us to share! So can you be a good boyfriend and please hand me a towel?” You plead, looking at him through your lashes.

Touya doesn’t move for a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly as considers your words, before his expression mellows out. He sighs heavily.

Touya releases his grip on your hair, trailing his rough fingers over your jaw and patting your cheek twice softly. He frees your other hand and turns to grab a towel from the cabinet.

You lift up your arms, very relieved, and wiggle your fingers happily as you wait. Touya sweetly wraps the cloth around your back and crosses it over your chest, tucking it into itself so it stays in place. You beam at him, letting your arms fall to hold it in place.

“Fine. You’ve convinced me not to commit murder tonight. Show me the surprise,” Touya concedes, catlike grin settling into his expression once again. You breathe another sigh of relief, stepping out of the shower. You balance with a hand on his arm.

“I got us joints! I figured some good weed would help us relax and,” you trail your finger over his jaw, biting your lip coyly. You lean in, whispering sensually to him. “I was hoping we could have some fun later, if you know what I mean.”

Standing up straight, you smile smugly, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself, watching his reaction. His head tilts back in delighted laughter.

“That’s the best idea you could’ve had. Let’s go get high out of our minds baby, and then I’ll fuck you into the mattress,” he purrs, grabbing the shirt you left to change into and tugging you along out of the bathroom.

You watch his lean frame from behind, admiring him as he walks. Your man is stupid hot, and you don’t just mean literally.

Once you’re near the bed the two of you release each other. He hands you your shirt and you let your towel unwind, tossing it to the side.

Touya’s hand comes out of nowhere to roughly smack your bare ass. The pain flares, making you yelp.

“Touya!” You scold. “Fuck off for a second will you?” you joke. “Let me at least put my shirt on.” You slip the clothing over your head as you speak, gathering your wet hair into a braid.

Touya snorts. You look at him with a raised brow as he’s taking his own clothes off. Your eyes linger for a moment on the V shape that disappears into his underwear. He winks at you in return when he catches your stare, but you just roll your eyes.

“Why are you even putting clothes on? You know I’m just going to get you naked later,” Touya complains as he crawls onto your shared bed. He leans his back against the headboard. Touya looks at you expectantly, patting the spot next to him as he shoves his long, pale legs under the blanket.

“Yes I know, but I still get cold sometimes, plus I like this shirt, it’s soft,” you reply, picking up the joints from your dresser, turning the overhead light off, and shimmying up the bed to him.

You make it a point to sit so your thigh and arm are squished against his as you recline next him. You use a pillow to support your lower back.

“You know I can keep you just as warm baby,” Touya coos, pulling up the soft fuzzy blanket that covers your bed so you can get your own legs underneath. He lets it rest at your waist.

Touya gently warms the space beneath and you swallow a moan. It feels amazing. Turning your head to look at him, you smile lazily. He wiggles his eyebrows as you hold up a joint to him, urging him to light it.

“I know, and later on you’re gonna make me sweat,” you tease, watching as he smirks.

He doesn’t even pay attention as he uses his finger to light the joint. A little blue flame that instantly eats the paper, setting it alight.

You kiss his cheek in thanks, selfishly taking the first drag. Fuck, it tastes like heaven. A twisted version of lemon flavor bursts across your tongue. It’s sweet, but also bitter.

You let the smoke swirl in your lungs while you hold your breath. Letting it out in a long exhale, the smoke ghosts across Touya’s face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, groaning as he breathes out.

After a joint and a half in, you’re feeling the perfect level of high. You’re leaning your head on Touya’s shoulder, studying your fingertips.

You’re something akin to the warm butter that melts on top of pancakes. Your head feels fuzzy and you know Touya is in the clouds.

”Baby,” Touya softly calls for you, smooth like whiskey. His honeyed voice sends a shiver down your spine. Your head feels heavy when you lift it, looking at him with a dopey grin.

“Hmm?” you try to ask. Managing to giggle in response. He tilts his head down towards you. He’s wearing a matching lazy grin, his eyes half-lidded.

“Let me shot gun that pretty mouth,” he murmurs, taking the last large inhale from the joint. He holds his breath and puts out the joint on his palm, laying the roach on the bedside table.

You nod happily, stomach unbearably warm as you lean towards him. You let your mouth fall open obediently.

Touya looks sly, meeting you halfway. His different textured lips pressing to yours easily, slightly opened as he slowly pushes the smoke out of his lungs and into your mouth.

Your eyes flutter closed as the tendrils of smoke roll into your mouth. It makes you feel a bit feverish and everything feels like it’s rolling in slow motion.

You inhale equally as slow, taking your time, pulling it into your lungs. It makes you feel dizzy. You hold it for a moment, until your chest starts to burn and then you break from the kiss.

Turning your head minutely, you let it all out in one breath. Your tongue slips out to lick your lower lip, the aftertaste from the joint making your mouth water.

You slide your gaze to Touya’s. He brings his hand up, letting his fingers rest on your jaw as he runs a thumb over the lip you just licked. His eyes burn with a low heat, like embers.

“Feeling high princess?” he whispers, leaning a bit closer, lips only a couple centimeters from yours. He’s gentle, holding your jaw, fingers pressing in on both sides now.

Your eyes are lidded and it feels like his rich voice physically melts through your skin, into your veins. You admire how pretty his face is, feeling your pussy throb. You bite your lip and nod, tickling a hand over his collarbone. He shivers.

“So high,” you giggle and whisper your next sentence, as if you’re telling him a secret. “Will you fuck me now Touya?”

Touya’s fingers twitch before they slide down to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. The staples on his wrist scratch at your neck. He’s studying your face, letting his lips pull into a wicked grin as he inches forward, brushing his mouth against yours.

“With pleasure baby girl,” he rumbles, pressing the words into your lips. You moan into his mouth, kissing him slowly over and over.

You’re just starting to lick into his mouth when he puts pressure on your windpipe and you get the message, breaking the kiss with a whine.

He laughs softly as he releases your neck and you shift until you’re lying down flat on the bed, head resting on the pillow.

The change in position makes the room spin and you blink your eyes slowly. You’ve planted your feet on the bed, letting your legs fall open. Moving around makes your shirt rise up to your hips, slick pussy on display for Touya.

You’re vaguely aware of how wet you already are, and it’s too hot in the room, your face heats again and sweat trails down your temple.

The only light in the room is from the TV you had turned on absently. Yet, you can still see Touya’s chest. He has his own light sheen of sweat covering his skin, nipples stiff and perky.

The white haired man maneuvers to get in between your thighs. He sits back on his calves, palms resting on the tops of your knees as he takes a look at your soft pussy.

The sight makes his cock ache, straining to be free from his briefs. He feels his tip positively leaking, sticking to the soft material.

“C‘mere Touya,” you whine softly, reaching your arms out for him. His expression is relaxed, loving as he bends to your will, resting his forearms on either side of your head.

You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss. Your lips slide together eagerly, the heat between you blazing.

His bottom lip is rough but the texture makes you moan every time. He easily slips his tongue inside your mouth, rolling them together, and you bite the delicate muscle briefly.

A husky moan pushes past his lips, causing him to break the kiss.

“Goddammit baby, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he groans, voice wrecked as he sucks dark marks in a line up your neck, gripping the hem of your shirt.

“Please,” you beg, the word sticking to the roof of your mouth. Touya doesn’t hesitate, sitting back momentarily to free you of your shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him.

The air brings a slight chill, making your nipples harden. Goosebumps erupt along your chest and you whine. Touya rests his hands on your soft belly, dick jumping, drooling as he takes in your naked body. His large, warm palms cover most of the skin there, fingers splayed on your ribs.

His eyes are red and glossy as they trail over your tits, noticing your nipples are pretty little pebbles. God, he’s so hard he could cut diamonds.

He quickly shoves his underwear off, the urge to be naked swallowing him whole. His cock bobs free as it catches on the waistband of his briefs. You watch, catching sight of the curly white hair resting just above the base.

He settles again between your legs, gripping his shaft and squeezing briefly for some relief. His own touch feels electric and he moans through his teeth. He knows you’ll feel a thousand times better than his hand.

He’s quick to swipe his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he drags it up to your clit, starting to massage slow circles there.

You choke on an inhale, head feeling heavy. Your limbs feel like jello, warmth flowing through you. You hum, reaching out to wrap a hand around the silky smooth skin of his shaft. He lets out a broken moan when you pump his cock, letting his foreskin pull back.

“Touya, c’mon, pretty please? Don’t wanna wait,” you say with breathy sigh. You keep stroking his cock, twisting your wrist upwards and he groans again, sounding breathless.

“You don’t have to ask me twice baby, you know how much I love fucking you,” he purrs, looking exactly like the Cheshire Cat.

He places a hand on each of your inner thighs, spreading you open a little more. You tilt your hips up a little, so you can guide his thick cock inside of you. You tease yourself, sliding his tip over your swollen clit. You let out a low curse as it sends electricity up your spine.

A short whine slips through Touya’s lips as the head of his cock presses in smoothly. Removing your hand, you give him the reigns to do the rest as he stretches your pussy completely. You tilt your head back on the pillow as you start clenching around him.

“Oh,” you say as if you’ve been sucker punched. “Touya, you feel so good!” you cry out, thoughts disjointed. You tremble at the overwhelming pleasure, white knuckling the pillow under you.

You’re sure you could cum just from the stretch of his cock alone, your sensitivity at an all time high. You chance a look at your boyfriend, panting.

His eyebrows are scrunched and he’s gritting his teeth, eyes locked on where he’s disappeared inside you. Warm pussy wrapped around him perfectly.

“Shit,” he curses lowly. “You’re so fucking tight,” he laughs incredulously rocking his hips shallowly.

His own mind is fuzzy, body high so intense he could sob. You lay there and take it beautifully as he starts to fuck you for real, slow and deep.

Your limbs are like lead, and you’ve all but become one with the mattress, the pleasure all you can focus on. The sound of your skin smacking together makes your ears burn. You’re watching the way his fingers grip your thighs, the way the muscles in his lower abdomen flex with every thrust.

“You’re so fucking hot Touya, God - I can’t,” you all but sob. You can’t focus on anything else but the way his cock drags in and out of your pussy. Touya hums softly and leans forward, bracing his hands on the bed, caging you between. You look up at him through your lashes.

“What do you want baby? Hmm? Tell me,” he pants, voice smoldering. Your entire body flushes even hotter. Quirk raising up just below your skin and you keep your hands from the sheets for fear of turning them to ash.

Letting out a low moan, you grip his forearms, he can take the heat of your quirk. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your scalding palms make contact with his skin.

You’re able to keep it under control for now. You take note of the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. He watches them, eyes almost unfocused, unfazed by the blistering heat of your palms, before his gaze locks with yours when you start to speak.

“Want you to fuck me from behind, please,” you mumble, words blending together as you try to keep your eyes open. The pleasure is making your brain feel thick.

“Fuck yes, turn that pretty ass around,” he agrees, leaning back and pulling his cock free. It bounces slightly and you notice he’s glistening from your slick, notching your arousal up by a few degrees.

You don’t waste a second, rolling over onto your belly. The sensation of moving underwater is what you would compare it to.

You raise up on your knees, showing off the curve of your spine as you rest your cheek on the mattress below. The sheets are soft, caressing your skin as you nuzzle against it, distractedly.

You’re gripping the sheets by your head when you feel Touya’s palm crack harshly against your ass,forcing you to jolt forward.

“Ah!” You whine into the sheets. He must’ve heated his hand, because you can feel your ass almost blistering from where he spanked you.

You assume that’s some sort of revenge from what you did to his forearms earlier. Not that it matters, the pain and pleasure mix together even better.

“Look at you, so obedient. You want me to fuck you like a dog, don’t you?” He teases, words sitting heavy on his tongue.

He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head between your lips, parting them easily.

You open your mouth to answer but you’re cut off. He’s already bullying his way back into you without abandon.

Touya grips your hips tight enough you worry he’s gripping the bone. His cock throbs, your pussy feels tighter this way.

It’s making his head spin, watching himself pull out, cock shiny and slick, before filling you once again. His heart thumps hard in his rib cage, thinking about just how much he fucking loves you.

“Oh god.” You shove your face into the mattress as Touya starts to move hard and fast. His cock filling you out perfectly with each thrust.

The friction is blistering, pleasure burning through your limbs. He presses his hands into your lower back, pushing the arch in your spine to its breaking point and he uses his weight to fuck you.

His cock bullies your sweet spot again and again, ripping muffled screams from your throat and into the mattress.

You’re starting to squirm under him, overly sensitive while he pushes you closer to your peak. You unconsciously try to crawl away from him, but he notices. You’ve started to fist the sheets again, for any kind of leverage.

“That’s the spot, isn’t baby? You’re so cute, trying to crawl away from me. You’re not fucking going anywhere. Be good, baby girl,” he demands, huffing lightly. He leans forward to brace one hand on the back of your neck, pinning you down.

He lets his other hand rest on the middle of your lower back, pressing down there too. How you’re able to keep your knees under you is beyond you. The first heavy thrust after that has you wailing, eyes stinging with tears.

“Fuck! Touya, right there, don’t stop,” you beg, feeling small underneath him. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s not long at all before a knot starts to wind up taught in your lower abdomen, and you struggle to try and warn him.

“Go ahead princess, I’ve got you. Cum for me, I want to feel it,” Touya purrs, bending forward to brace one hand by your head. The other still pining you down by the back of the neck.

The staples adorning his wrist feel cold against your overheated flesh. Oddly enough, the difference in temperature is what pushes you over the edge.

You cum, brutally. Pussy fluttering, gripping Touya so tight you can’t believe he’s still sliding in and out of you. Heat gushes through you in waves, curling your toes.

“Oh!” you gasp, a pressure building in your bladder. “You’re gonna make me squirt,” you say in surprise. Fingernails bite into your skin, warm breath is against your ear.

“Then fucking do it baby,” he breathes, never slowing his pace. A thrill runs through you, fingers curling in the sheets.

Pleasure ripples through you as you squirt. Soaking the sheets and Touya’s inner thighs. Your mouth stays open in a silent scream.

Touya moans in your ear, whispering words of encouragement as he works you through it. You notice his cock start to twitch inside you as you come down from your high.

Touya murmurs sweet nothings against your ear, letting you know he’s about to cum.

You tell him just how much you want it, how much you need to him to fill you up—and he does just that. Pressing all the way in until his balls fit snugly against your pussy.   Touya cums with a noise that sounds like it’s been punched from his chest. Panting as he nudges your knees out from you, so you both collapse to the mattress.

You both catch you breath for a moment, Touya letting himself go soft before he makes a move to pull out.   Touya rolls off you gently, onto his back. You breathe a sigh of relief, turning your head to see if his face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, cheeks flushed from the strenuous movements.

“I’m great,” you laugh, poking his ribs. He chuckles, giving you a half smile. “Can you get me a towel? Seeing as it’s your fault I’m a mess now,” you tease. Touya rolls his eyes playfully.

You flip over onto your back as retreats to get a towel, returning swiftly.

”Thank you,” you hum, cleaning yourself the best you can, not bothering to put clothes back on as you get under the blankets.

You sigh happily, turning on your side as the bed dips. Touya settles down facing you, snaking an arm around your waist to tug you closer.

“I love you,” you whisper, trailing your fingers down the side of his face, stopping to press on one of his staples under his eye.   “I love you,” he replies, just as softly.

”I’ll follow you to hell, you know that, right?” You say, raising an eyebrow. He sighs, leaning forward to brush a kiss over your forehead.

“I know. I’ll incinerate the world for you, you know that, right?” He teases, placing his forehead on yours. You laugh gently, nodding as you kiss him once more.

#dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha smut #touya smut #todoroki touya x reader #touya x reader #todoroki touya smut #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #mha x reader #mha dabi #mha todoroki

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vampyrsm · 2 years

Text

An Ode to Lost Love.

✞ — Synopsis: What was that quote about another's silence? “Be leery of silence. It doesn't mean you won the argument. Often, people are just busy reloading their guns.” Right. You should’ve seen this coming, really, it was a little stupid of you to believe he just forgot all about you.

✞ — Warnings: MDNI. Dark content, implied stockholm syndrome, mentions of murder, the reader receives death threats, yandere behaviour, violence, blood, injuries, asphyxiation, the reader is knocked unconscious, concussion, heavy manipulation, preying on the reader, dumbification, objectification, gaslighting, non-con, dubcon (but hardly, it's a very grey area), disassociation, minimal/no prep vaginal sex, burning/marking in detail, reader vomits once due to injuries, creampie, breeding kink, baby trapping, Dabi flipflops a lot between emotions.

✞ — Word Count: 7k

✞ — Notes: This is a Dabi x female!Reader. This is my first real dark content fic. If this is not your cup of tea, please do not interact. Please take care with the warnings, it's very much a dead dove: do not eat. Posted over on AO3 too for ease of reading. I definitely do not condone anything that has been written here, I'm also not romanticising noncon or any of the warnings. Thank you for taking the time to read it, remember to take care and enjoy :)

Living in the aftermath of someone's destruction was just as you would expect; chaotic, and lonesome. You had signed up for this all those years ago but you hadn’t expected it to turn out quite like this. You were never going to get used to the stares when someone recognised you in the store, or the smashed windows of the local youth who wanted to shame someone who was tricked with the promise of something more.

Though you didn’t feel ashamed for what you had done, nor did you regret it – for the most part, anyway. Sure you had regretted keeping silent when you saw a man lose his life because of a simple mistake, you should’ve left when you realised that you were being lied to. That the man you had fallen in love with was not a misunderstood young man but rather a cruel and deceiving criminal.

The man in question? Touya Todoroki – also most commonly known as Dabi.

You hated this part of town, it was… less than decent. Run down and filled with low-life criminals who were on the run or simply just wanted to live a somewhat normal life. The walls of the buildings you pass by are decaying, unrepaired from when heroes did decide to pay a visit to the neglected parts of the cities and towns they were supposed to serve and protect.

What a fucking lie.

It’s not that you hated hero society, per se, but you also knew how disgusting some of the heroes still were. After everything Touya went through after he poured his heart out to you and the rest of the world – nothing fucking changed. Of course, it had pissed you off when they exhausted him to the point of near death before carting him off to Tartarus, they were sweeping him under the rug to be forgotten about. You attempted to reach out to the other members of the liberation but none of them wanted anything to do with you, you weren’t a villain. You were just attached to one.

The stairs up to your rundown apartment were practically crumbling with each step, you made sure to avoid the 8th step that was shattered entirely. When you first moved here, you thought it would only be for a short amount of time, just somewhere to lay low to avoid the probing questions of the heroes who wondered if you were compliant in any of Touya’s crimes. But the two-year timeframe you gave yourself quickly turned to three, then five, and now here you were eight years later. The apartment building looked the same as when you first moved in, the mysterious stain on the carpet leading to your apartment had never been removed and you’re pretty sure the world will end before it’s ever cleaned.

Your door opened with a creak, the old hinges were hanging on for dear life and you never worked up the nerve to ask the guy who let you live here to try and fix it. Of course, you would do it yourself, if it were not for the fear of breaking it entirely and having no door at all in such a shady neighbourhood. With a click of the door behind you, your entire body relaxes with a drop of your shoulders and you drop the keys in the chipped bowl by the front door.

Once free of your shoes, you trudge further into the apartment. Inside it was much nicer than outside, you had made sure to work hard to make yourself comfortable here. At first, you hesitated on decorating, the constant voice in the back of your head telling you that Dabi—Touya wouldn’t like it. But it became easier over time, as the claws he had sunk in your flesh had loosened with each passing day without him leering over you. Of course, he still lingered deep in your bones, scars like the ones he left on you would never truly go away.

You hadn’t realised you were quite so ‘damaged’ until after he was gone. When you were suddenly allowed to break the surface of the water Dabi had been holding you down beneath to see you squirm, it was jarring, to say the least. You struggled day to day wondering what to do with yourself, you had no one to direct your every move or to care for you the way he had. The first couple of years were the worst, a constant void in place of where your heart should be. You longed to have Dabi back, to card your fingers through soft snow-like hair, you missed his insufferable warmth. It had suffocated you at first until it became a comfort, something you needed to get through the day.

The letters you sent back and forth with him had helped some, the smell of smoke and ash when you’d open a new letter from him would get you through the darkest of nights. He had always had a way with his words, not many would think that of Touya, he hadn’t finished school and he most definitely didn’t have the support through his teenage years but he had taught himself how to read and write. And he was very good at it, very fucking good.

With each letter, you could practically hear his voice, the syrupy low tone that would muddle your brain and numb your nerves. Those letters had started to grow more erratic, it morphed from the loving Touya you had been privileged to know in the safety of his bedroom into Dabi, a cruel villain who wanted you to suffer just as he had. He didn’t take it easy when you told him you were starting to question the legitimacy of your relationship with the scarred man. He grew unkind with his words, the I love you turning into I wish you were fucking dead at the end of each letter.

He felt betrayed, you figured, everyone he had known had abandoned him and you were just the same as the rest of them. His final letter went into gruesome detail as to what he would do to you once he got out, how his hands may be made to burn but he would relish in watching the light leave your eye when he choked you to death. You didn’t need to read further to know he would’ve gone into detail about what he’d then do with your dead body. That was the last letter you had read, but they continued to come every fortnight like clockwork until they didn’t. You figured he might’ve gotten bored, or perhaps someone had taken him out on the inside. There wasn’t a shortage of people who would want Dabi dead.

The bag in your hand was heavy as you dropped it onto the counter of the tiny kitchen, the relief in your wrist was instantaneous and you could finally relax fully. Your eyes close for a brief moment, relishing in the quiet of the apartment with the distant sound of sirens from down on the street. It was good to be home, each trip was harder than the last with the fear of being recognised by heroes, or worse. With the safety of your home wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, you reopened your eyes to begin the trivial task of putting away the groceries. But as you step further into the kitchen, it’s as if your entire body is dunked into ice water.

There’s a letter. An open letter was pinned to the old wooden cupboard with one of the knives from the rack. You don’t need to get closer to know which letter it is, the paper is well-worn and the big hearts he had drawn at the bottom are enough of an indicator. It’s the one he sent you on your birthday. It was riddled with love confessions, how he missed you more than anything in the world and when he’d get out he promised your hand in marriage. A life you wanted but knew you’d never get with a man like Dabi.

You take a step back, hip bumping into the corner of the counter to startle you into action. You whip around, ready to run out of the apartment but instead, your path is cut off almost instantly. There’s a broad chest in front of you, wide shoulders and a head of snowy white hair that you would recognise in a crowd of a thousand people. When you meet his eyes, he’s sneering down at you with a heat in his eyes that you saw moments before he would burn someone alive.

“Hello, doll. Miss me?” His voice hasn’t changed in the eight years apart, it’s still got a timbre to it that you can feel deep in the pit of your stomach. He looks bigger, somehow, the muscles of his neck and shoulders look firmer. He had always loomed over you but now he seemed even taller, swallowing the room whole with just his aura alone. Dabi must be able to see the way you’re eyeing him up, not quite in the way you had in the past but rather in a way that makes him excited; you were thinking of running.

You’re horribly predictable, he realises as you dash to the other side of the kitchen to dart around the tiny kitchen island that really didn’t give you any sort of head start. You can hear him click his tongue, then huffing a sigh before there’s the loud squeak of his boots and the thump of his bounding footsteps as he chases after you. The apartment is small, you don’t have a whole lot of room to make your escape so you have to rush past him when he starts to corner you into the hallway leading to the bedroom and bathroom.

A big mistake, you realise. He’s always been quick, and lithe on his feet and it reminded you of when a snake would strike. Fast and precise. His hands grab at your ribcage, easily swiping you off your feet before you’re slammed against the closest wall with a bang of your head on the wall. The world swirls when you try to look at him, the blue of his eyes glowing with mirth at the fact you even tried to outrun him. You’ve never been able to do it before, so what made you think you could do it this time?

“Silly fucking bitch,” He snarls in your face, the heat coming from his hands alone makes you squirm uncomfortably, you can feel the sting of welts starting to form on your skin in the shape of his hands. “You thought you could hide from me, didn’t you? You really fucking thought I’d forget about you?” Your silence isn’t what he wanted, apparently, as he pulls you from the wall just to slam you against it once again before throwing you to the floor. The movement has your stomach churning, bile rising in your throat when your head impacts on the floor again.

“I’d never forget about you, never.” His weight is heavy as he settles atop you, his thighs effectively pinning you beneath him before his hands descend onto your throat. His eyes are wide, manic, his lips parted in a twisted grin that makes him look more like the Devil himself. “Remember what I said to you? Hm? You remember the letters I sent?” You choke against his hands when he pushes harder, your fingers instinctively trying to come up and loosen his hold on you. “FUCKING ANSWER ME!” The spit of his words hits you in the face, but your entire head feels numb and fuzzy, your lips hurt – everything does.

“Y–” He leans in closer, sneering in your face and it does nothing to relieve the pressure on your throat. You’re going to die, he’s actually going to do it. “Yes!” you croak, hardly an audible word but Dabi hears it loud and clear. He holds eye contact as if he’s waiting for something, you’re not quite sure. Maybe he’s waiting for you to die, he had wanted to see the life drain from your eyes—

His hands come away from your throat, a too-hot hand latching on the underside of your jaw and his blunt nails dig into your cheeks. You suck in a harsh breath, choking on the sudden reintroduction of oxygen but you don’t get much longer to relish the fact you’re still alive. Dabi looms over you, the outline of his body blocks out the dingy yellow light overhead, giving him a grim outline that you have to squint at when you look up at him properly.

“Yeah? Then why’d you ignore me? Why’d you make me think you were fucking dead, or that you were busy getting fucked by some other guy like the whore that you are.” There’s a warning in his eye that prompts you to reply.

“I–I was scared!” you clear your throat uncomfortably, the confession coming from your mouth unwillingly but it was the hard truth. You were terrified of him and the things he had said to you, solely because you knew he would go through with it. If Dabi was anything, then he was a man of his word. His fingers curl harder into your jaw, forcing your mouth to open with the pressure. The look in his eye terrifies you, you can’t tell what he’s thinking with the way his eyes bounce back and forth between your own. He’s searching, you belatedly realise, searching to see if you’re telling the truth.

“Good,” he finally says, “You should be fucking scared.” He pulls your head from the floor just to smash it back against the floor in a blink of an eye. Everything falls into inky darkness.

There’s a distant sound of water running, but it sounds like it’s miles away. Your mind starts to slowly swirl back to life, the pain at the back of your head blossoming into something fierce that has a pained groan coming from your lips.

When you open your eyes, you’re no longer looking up at the ceiling of your hallway but rather at the ceiling fan in your bedroom, you’re not sure if it’s actually on or if your vision is still swimming. Nothing is quite adding up, how did you end up here? You were on the floor, and a ghost of something heavy atop of you had your mind jogging to try and catch up. But you weren’t always on the floor, something had put you there — no, someone had put you there. Dabi.

He’s not here, as far as you can tell, there’s no immediate warmth that comes with him when he steps into a room but there’s a distant smell of ash. He was still lurking. The shooting pain in the back of your head has your body jolting, muscles seizing up before they relax once the pain subsides just enough to let you breathe.

You were no idiot, you had hit your head a number of times, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you were teetering on the edge between life and death. Though that doesn’t deter you when your mind finally catches up with you, you have to get out of here. If he’s not here right now, then you have a chance to leave. This might be the last chance you have.

With a great effort that has your face screwing up, eyes clenched shut, you roll yourself onto your side until your face is stuffed into the soft cotton of your bed sheets that you huff against. Your entire body felt like it was being weighed down, your muscles screamed when you slowly got your arms beneath you to push yourself up enough to stare down at the bed. Instantly your eyes lock onto the patch of still-wet blood, the stain was massive and the sight of it had your stomach threatening to empty itself. Or maybe that was the concussion.

Your feet slip on the floor when you try to find your footing, your knees colliding with the floor with a muted thud that you hope Dabi doesn’t hear. The feeling of your jeans against the skin of your knees is relieving, you knew Dabi preferred for you to be … conscious, but you wouldn’t put it past him to want something regardless of whether you were awake or not. Slowly, you get up onto unsteady feet as if you had never walked a day in your life before. Your vision swims again when you stand up straight, it feels as if your head is ten times the size it is as it lolls back in threat of toppling you over again.

But just as you’re about to fall, there are hands catching you beneath your armpits and letting your head land against a shoulder – a bare one, but your mind doesn’t quite connect the dots just yet. “You really are pathetic, aren’t you? You can’t do anything without me, no wonder you panicked when I wasn’t here anymore…” Dabi drawls into your ear, but his voice sounds like it’s submerged in water. He breathes in a heavy exasperated sigh, his body jostling yours. “C’mon doll, let’s get you cleaned up. You made such a mess.”

There’s no room to argue, not that you would be able to form one with how your tongue tingles and your throat burns. Dabi is anything but graceful with the way he drags you towards the bathroom, uncaring for your feet that slip or bang against the corner of the shoddy old wooden door as you pass by.

There’s a bang of a door and you’re submerged in sticky warmth, the steam from the bathtub filling the room to the point where you can’t quite see more than a few inches in front of your face. With a shove and a push, you find your hands pressed into the slippy tile of your bathroom sink, your mind still too foggy to control your extremities and you find yourself pressed against the cool glass mirror.

You can feel Dabi’s eyes on you as he watches you struggle to get your bearings, your forehead pressed to the glass is soothing against the deafening thunderstorm in your head. His fingers are long when they wrap themselves carefully around your throat this time, pressing into the bruises you weren’t aware had already formed from his previous attack. Your head slumps back against his shoulders and you can just make out the glowing blue of his eyes as he stares right back at you, it always felt like he had the ability to stare into your soul.

“Look at you…” He coos, voice a soft contrast to the harsh voice from earlier. His spare hand cards through your hair, brushing past the gash on the back of your head that has you wincing. “My poor baby, you did this all to yourself.” Had you? You supposed he did have a point, you did ignore his letters, and you did try to run when he always told you to never do it. If you weren’t so stupid you might’ve avoided this, you shouldn’t have turned your back on him.

His burning fingers slide up from your throat until he grabs at your jaw once again, angling your head to stare at yourself directly in the mirror. Even through the thickness of the steam you can see you look on the verge of half-dead, there’s no life to your eyes, no usual glow to your skin. It’s horrifying to see yourself looking like a different person entirely. You were no longer you, but rather you were reduced back to the role of being Dabi’s plaything. Dabi hums deep in his throat as if he can hear the sluggish thoughts rolling around in your mind, hooking his chin over your shoulder.

“Look what you did to my baby, my doll. She’s all broken and for what? Because you forgot your place?” He clicks his tongue, chin withdrawing from your shoulder until he’s drawn back up to his full height and you can just make out the look on his face. His nostrils flared, lips drawing into a grim line and eyes half-lidded. “Maybe I should do you a favour, remind you of your place.” Dabi spins you on the spot, steadying your whirling head with both of his hands before he takes a careful step back and you can’t help but wonder if he plans on reminding you of your place by finally putting you out of your misery.

“Strip.”

What?

“Don’t make me do it for you, you won’t like it.” It’s a very clear warning, blaring sirens and red flags. You have to blink hard, will your mind to work with your trembling hands that attempt to grab at the bottom of your shirt. It feels like an eternity goes by until you’re dropping the shirt onto the floor with a wet plop, your eyebrows furrow at the sound but when you attempt to look down your vision swims again – “Useless.” Dabi grumbles before his warmth is pressed to your front, the smell of forest fire smoke choking you.

His fingers are quick and precise when they undo the buttons of your jeans before they’re shoved down your thighs, pooling at your ankles and Dabi is at least courteous enough to let you hold his forearms when you climb out of them until you’re left in just your underwear.

As if appraising a piece of art in a museum, Dabi lets his eyes slowly trail over flesh that he had seen an endless amount of times in the past. His head tilts slowly, regarding the swell of your breasts in the cup of your bra and the softness of your stomach, the way your hips pudge a little from the tight elastic of your plain underwear.

Still engulfing your personal space with his heat, he lets a hand slide up along your side, pressing dangerously into your ribs to hear the sharp inhale of when his fingers brush into bruised skin and muscle. Cerulean eyes level with your own when he inches around to the back of your bra, his fingers seemingly hardly move before the straps slip down your shoulders and the cups slacken on your chest. He plucks it from your body, letting it drop to the floor before his fingers trail back around to your front.

He keeps his head tilted, gaze redirected down to your chest and he can’t help but wet his tongue in anticipation. You had always been his most prized possession, the most beautiful, a masterpiece that was all for him. Those same too-hot fingers trail along the underside of your breasts, feeling the weight of them before groping one much too hard in one large palm. His fingers curl cruelly, squeezing as if it were a stress ball and all you could do was take it, your face crumpling in pain much to his delight.

“I trusted you, y’know.” He all but mumbles, gaze not lifting from the way your tit spills between his fingers when he gives another squeeze. “I thought it would always be me and you, against the world or whatever the fuck they say.” His thumb and index finger mercilessly pinch your nipple, tugging on it harshly to pull a pitiful cry from your mouth.

The sound has his eyes flicking up to yours, watching the way your lashes clump with unshed tears and how you’re not even attempting to stop the saliva dribbling from your lips. You really were so pathetic. Dabi chews on his scarred bottom lip for a moment, tossing over a thought in his mind but instead he opts to move his fingers to your neglected nipple, pulling and tugging until you’re a snivelling mess.

“‘M sorry!” You sob, the volume of your voice makes your head throb and the tears falling in fat streaks make your head feel heavier. “I’m sorry, Touya! Please, I–I didn’t know what to do without you.” The use of his name makes his eyebrow twitch, jaw clicking in place when he glares at you. It’s a low blow, to use his name like that and he knows you know that. He had always forbidden you from using that name unless you were given permission.

“Last warning, doll. I’m being nice here. You don’t get to use that name when you betrayed me.” His words have your mouth closing, bottom lip wobbling in an effort to keep yourself from openly crying in front of your tormentor. He would only ridicule you for it, tease you and see how far he could go before you broke apart from his words alone. Dabi doesn’t wait to pull down your panties next, the material dragging and scratching at your skin until they’re pooled at your feet along with everything else. “Turn around.”

And you do. You wordlessly turn, letting your hands brace on the sink once again before you meet your own gaze in the mirror. You somehow looked worse, the snot and saliva made you look quite like the snivelling petulant child that Dabi spoke to you like. There’s a clink of a belt before it hits the floor, the dropping of your heart into your stomach threatens to tip you over the edge.

A boot kicks your ankles apart, uncaring for the way you flinch at just how hard he kicks you. You’re perched over the sink, your stomach twitching every time it touches the cold porcelain. Dabi had only ever forced himself onto you a handful of times in the past, at the start of your “relationship”, he always soothed your tears and hushed your refusal with false promises hidden in between his sickly sweet words.

Over time the lines blurred between him forcing himself onto you and you willingly opening your legs for him when he asked for it. It pleased him to see you listening to him, and he became ‘softer’ if that was a possible word to describe a villain like him. Time spent with Dabi got easier when he was softer, it actually felt believable when he whispered into your ear at night how much he loved you, how much he appreciated you and how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. It was hard to distinguish his lies and the truth when he looked at you like you hung the moon and stars.

A searing hot hand pressed to your bare ass has your mind jolting, bile rising momentarily in your throat until you lean into the coolness of the sink once again. Those same fingers that feel as if they had come from the depths of hell brush their way down over your sensitive skin until they find their way between your thighs. And much to your embarrassment, you’re wet. Biology was a cruel mean thing, your body was still hardwired to react to the man of your nightmares lest you want to face the consequences. Your bottom lip wobbles, thankful for the fact Dabi is preoccupied with his new discovery.

His laugh is loud and boisterous, almost manic with the way his eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re fucking wet. I knew it,” he breathes in hard, pushing his hips flush with your own and you can feel the twitch of his leaky cock between your cheeks. “I knew you missed me, I knew you still loved me. This pussy never lied to me, unlike someone.” His words sting, a jab directly into your heart.

He sounds hurt, upset that you’d actually try to lie and hide away from him. It has fresh tears pricking your eyes, how could you hurt someone like him? Someone who loved you so devotedly.

Long deft fingers prod and poke between your thighs, pulling your lips apart crudely to watch the strings of arousal snap and cling to your thighs. He’s still chuckling deep in his chest, elated with the newfound knowledge that you still want him in such a carnal way. He circles your clit in clumsy patterns, enough to have your thighs tensing up and hips arching into the pleasure you’re unwillingly receiving. But the thing about Dabi is—

He’s not a patient man.

The tip of his cock pierces your unprepared hole, the pain shoots from deep in your pelvis and ricochets up your spine until it tingles at the base of your skull. Your hands help brace yourself over the sink, your head drops down and you’re vaguely aware of the way your throat aches with a scream. His fingers find a home in hidden bruises, the sting of his metal staples heating against your skin is familiar. Dabi had always been big, thick and unforgiving with the piercings that he adorned. Each of the barbells digs into your velvety walls, his hips so flush with yours you’re not sure where you end and he begins anymore.

“Fuck, missed this too much. Thought I’d never get to feel your cunt wrapped around me again.” His words are vulgar, but they spark something to life in your brain. Something you hadn’t quite considered until now. Just how was he here? Last you heard Dabi was never getting out, he killed too many people and committed far too many crimes to just be let loose on the world again.

Though you never got to air the question, his hips drawback until they’re smacking back against your ass. The pace from there on out is brutal, the tip of his cock bullies itself into your clenching cunt until it hits against your cervix. Each tap feels like you’re being punched in the gut, your lips parted in a soundless scream.

The pain was too much, the ache in your head was getting steadily worse and the back-and-forth thrashing of your body was making you woozy. “D–Dabi…” You try to speak, the words slurred with the saliva that dribbles from your parted mouth and drips into the sink.

“What?” He snarls, grunting with the effort of how hard he’s fucking you.

“Hurts.” You reply with a gasp, his fingers instantly latching around your throat until you’re pulled up to face what you assume must be the Devil leering over your shoulder with the most disgruntled expression on his face.

You can smell the burning of flesh before the pain registers, the sizzling hardly audible over the sound of his hips slapping against your abused rear. “Yeah? Maybe it’ll teach you a fucking lesson. Next time you think about trying to leave me, you’ll remember how much it hurt.”

His fingers squeeze tighter around your throat until you can’t breathe, the horrid stench of marred flesh the only thing flooding your system when you desperately try to suck in air. Then you’re falling forward, your forehead plummeting with force against the mirror and you think you hear it smashing over the deafening ring in your ears. It feels like your head is being held under a pillow, like someone has pressed two large hands over your ears and held you there. Your throat burns, for a lack of a better word. The flesh bubbles and hisses with a reminder of Dabi’s words.

You’re not quite sure how much time has passed until you work up the strength to lift your gaze to the now-smashed mirror. The first thing you notice is the blood trickling down from a gash on your forehead, trailing down along the bridge of your nose until it meets the plumpness of your lips – filling the cracks with a metallic taste. Then you see it, the burn, it’s gnarly.

The flesh is hardly recognisable as flesh, it looks like butchered meat. It’s blistered already, layers of the skin open for the world to see and the sight finally does tip you over the edge. The bile doesn’t burn quite as much as the 3rd-degree handprint on your throat as you spill the contents of your stomach into the sink.

Dabi groans in anger, snarling as he retches you away from the sink and throws you onto all fours on the floor. “Disgusting fucking whore,” There’s something wet pressed to your mouth, a sponge you realise, as it drags roughly against your mouth until he forces it into your mouth. The scouring pad scrapes along your tongue, replacing the taste of vomit with soap. “Always making me clean up your messes.” Then it’s gone as fast as it came, your body being shoved and pushed until your back is against the bathmat and you’re staring up at Dabi who seems to be kneeling already between your thighs.

He wastes no time once again in pressing himself back inside of you, the stretch this time nowhere near as painful but it reignites the old ache of when he first forced himself inside. Your heart aches when you stare up at him, silhouetted by the flickering dim light of the bathroom bulb. It makes the white of his hair glow, angelic your brain supplies, but he was anything but an angel. His hands grab at your thighs, forcing them back until they uncomfortably press into your chest. The angle makes it hard to breathe, the furious pace he sets is agonising.

But your body is betraying you once again, the lewd squelch of your pussy is giving you away. A deep dark and twisted part of you has missed this, missed him. Missed the way he would fuck you like it was his last day on earth, like he had something to prove. It has an involuntary whimper leaving your throat, and of course, Dabi perks up at the sound – whilst he didn’t care much if you were silent the entire time, he always enjoyed the cute noises you’d make for him and only him. His eyes find yours, and you’re sucked into the endless expanse of the blinding blue Hellfire.

Dabi has a new goal in mind now, to fuck you the way he knows you liked to be fucked. His hips roll a little more fluidly, finding the old rhythm from all those years ago that surely would have your eyes rolling into the back of your head and your lips parting to sing him the most beautiful of songs with your moans. You don't disappoint him either, not when his thumb joins the fray and rubs languid circles against your puffy clit. The initial contact and stimulation have your hips jerking, fighting against the hold he has on you but it’s futile; he has you pinned beneath him much like a wolf would with its prey.

“There she is,” he grins when your fluttering eyes meet his, that contempt and confusion you had held onto for so long being replaced with a glassy look in your eye that must be lust. “There’s my fucking girl. Missed you so much baby, missed your cute noises. Y’gonna give me more, right? It’s the right thing to do, after all, you did hurt my feelings.” He still looks angelic angled over you like this, the shadows of his face almost hiding the glinting staples and scars that cover most of his body now. You can’t help but nod at his words, it’s the right thing to do, isn’t it?

Dabi groans at your assent, fucking into you somehow harder. The slap of his heavy balls against the rim of your ass is loud, the sticky sound of his hips meeting yours fuels your own impending orgasm.

Of course, Dabi knows it’s coming too, his thumb presses firmer against your clit and moves a little faster to edge you closer and closer whilst he drops his hips just enough to have the tip of his cock hitting that squishy spot that no one but him has been able to reach.

You can’t help but gasp and squeal, your back arching off of the floor until it slams back down when your orgasm hits you like a train. It’s violent, shakes through your bones like an earthquake would through a building. Your toes curl uncomfortably in the air, your thighs twitch in an attempt to close them to bar the man still torturing your clit from causing you any more pleasurable pain.

“Enough,” you try and push his hand away but Dabi never listens, he bats your hand away with a harsh slap that has your skin tingling in pain. “You’re gonna take it, like the good girl I know you are.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes you can,” He grapples your still twitching thighs until they tighten around his waist and then he’s diving down to your face. His breath is hot against your face, the smell of cigarette ash suffocates you.

“I know you can. Now kiss me.” He demands, and the fear of not obeying his command in such a compromising position has you indulging him. Your lips press against his, you work hard to try and keep yourself dispassionate but it’s impossible when he does the thing with the tip of his tongue – drags it along your bottom lip so delicately until he pries you open, lets the smooth expanse of his tongue coax yours out until he can suck on it.

The steadily rising heat of the kiss engulfs you, douses you in an indescribable warmth that you can’t help but lean into the familiarity of it. It’s intoxicating to let go of that fear, to detach yourself from the person you had become in the eight years of solitude and recede back into the one who was simply in love with a man who was willing to burn down the world at her feet. But you’ve never been allowed to live in the illusion you formulate to ignore the harsh reality of things, Dabi would never give you that luxury.

His lips part from yours with a wet smack, saliva coating your lips and he grins again. The staples in his cheeks almost look like they might split as he stares at you, splayed out with a faraway look in your eye when you stare up at him.

“Gonna cum inside this beautiful pussy,” he breathes, eyes coming to life when your eyes slowly start to refocus on him and the words he’s letting spill from his saccharine mouth. “Fill you up nice and good with my cum, get you pregnant so you can never fucking leave me.”

What? Is that what he wanted? You squirm in an attempt to get away from him, but he keeps you uncomfortably pinned in a deep mating press whilst his cock bullies itself deeper – you hadn’t even noticed the way it was twitching so harshly in the depths of your pussy until now. He was too close, he was really going to do it—

“Oh fuck, yeah, squeeze me like that baby. I knew you wanted me to breed you.” You don’t, you don’t want to be trapped with his child. It’s the ultimate thing he would hold over your head until the end of time, you could never escape him if you gave birth to a child that had the same dangerous eyes as his. “Aw, doll, don’t cry. It’s okay, I won’t leave you to raise the brat on its own. I’ll be there, always.” You hadn’t even realised you were crying until he mentioned it.

The groan that rumbles deep in Dabi’s chest and vibrates up through his throat is something you would never, ever, forget. It was a sound that meant only one thing; he was about to cum. You feel the twitch before the first spurt of molten cum paints your insides. That burn of your insides is something you had grown accustomed to after the time spent with Dabi, he had said it was because of his quirk. Everything about him was just hotter.

He holds himself balls deep in your dripping cunt, uncaring at the shuddering sob that shakes your body at the realisation that he’s going to keep his promise of making sure you get pregnant. The thought has your eyes closing, your head far too sore to think about what might just happen if you were to get pregnant with Dabi’s child.

Your body is limp when he effortlessly picks you up eventually, tucking his hands under your armpits before your feet are placed in something cold and wet. Your body starts with a jolt, your skin pricking with gooseflesh before you’re forced to sit down in the bathtub. Just how much time had passed for the bath to grow cold?

A warm chest is pressed to your back, pulling you effortlessly between long defined legs and arms loop around you like a safety belt. Dabi holds you there, his fingers stroking delicately along the skin he had bruised and marred not too long ago. You could almost fall into the allusion of him being a lover, a man who was simply giving you the aftercare you need.

The bath bubbles around you with the raising temperature, his skin is too hot for you to be laid up against like this and you can feel the staples burning their way into your flesh but you can’t find the strength anymore to fight back. He pushes you forward slightly to reach for a washcloth, dipping it into the scorching water and slowly but carefully dragging it along your bloodied skin. He doesn't go near the wound on your throat.

It feels like no time has passed at all since he left you and now, those eight years apart squashed into nothing when he noses his way into your hair and breathes in.

“How did you find me?” You speak eventually, Dabi remains silent for a moment and that only makes you worry more.

“I always knew where you were. You shouldn’t trust everyone you meet.”

And if that wasn’t the truth.

#tw noncon #cw noncon #tw baby trapping #cw dark content #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha x you #dabi smut #touya todoroki smut #touya smut #dabi x you

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dekuphilia · 16 days

Text

GROSS

Pairing: Touya (Dabi) Todoroki x Reader

Warnings: nsft content, piss, mostly just piss, degradation, typical dabi things really, gender neutral reader, super short sorry!!

You just cant hold it while you're in the car with dabi :((

note: all characters are aged up to 21+

nsft under the cut

you really should’ve held your bladder but dabi wasn’t a very good driver and it was so hard to focus as he hit every single bump in the road. maybe he was doing it on purpose, enjoying your cute whines, and the way you squirmed beside him in the passenger seat.

“hold it,” he rolled his eyes, a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, “don’t be such a baby.”

and you tried your best, tried to squeeze your legs together, tried focusing on anything else your brain may allow, but it crept up on you as more time passed.

“touya please— please just pull over,” you all but squealed, pleading eyes looking over at him as you squirmed in the seat.

“we’re already late, just shut the fuck up and hold it.” he seethed, knuckles turning white as his grip on the steering wheel tightened.

he sped up suddenly, a smirk covering his face as he glanced towards you for a moment. he's doing it on purpose now, seeing if you’ll break.

and you do, releasing your bladder within seconds, soaking through your shorts and the seat below you until you’re a wet mess.

tires screech, the car stopping abruptly as dabi vears off the dirt road, “i’m so sorry,” you whimper, tears staining your cheeks, “i didn’t mean to!”

“i don’t care,” he’d sneer, rolling his eyes as he got out of the car, slamming the door shut, “get out,” he opened your door now, tugging on your hand, “get the fuck out, now.”

you sniffle, snot running from your nose as you whimper, “what are you—“

before you can finish your sentence, he’s pulling you from the vehicle, not a card in the world as he pulled down your shorts, tossing them somewhere in the car.

“take your slutty ass shirt off,” he grunted, standing in front of you.

“what if someone’s sees?!” you looked up at him, eyes wide.

“you think i give a shit? take it off,” he demands.

you were quick to follow, discarding your top as you stood in front of him on the side of the road, almost fully exposed.

“get on your knees,” he spoke so nonchalantly, not even looking at you as he tugged down the zipper on his jeans, pushing them down until he had his cock in his hand.

without a word, you’d drop to your knees, feeling the rough gravel of the road dig into your skin, sure to leave a few nasty scratches.

“look at me,” he held his cock towards you, glaring down at you.

shamefully, you’d look up at him, eyes teary as you gasped.

“touya no!”

he didn’t care, ignoring your protests as he began to piss on you.

you whined, feeling the warm liquid splash against your you, “This is your punishment,” touya chided, eyes boring into yours as his stream continues, coating your exposed chest, “s’your fault for pissing in my damn car.”

you felt warmth between your thighs as the piss dripped down, coating the thin material of your underwear. you couldn’t help but shift, thighs clenching together as a soft moan passed your lips.

“are you— fuck, are you actually enjoying this?” his expression distorted to one of false disgust, “dirty fuckin’ whore,” he laughed, stream dying down, the final few droplets dripping down his cock head and falling onto the carpet.

“no— no, i wasn’t!” your face is flushed more than before, skin feeling warm and sticky, “y-you’re so gross,” you whimpered, pouting up at him.

“you’re gross, you’re the one enjoying it.”

#tw: piss #mha smut #tw: omorashi #tw: dubcon #dabi smut #dabi x reader #bnha smut #tw: smut

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harleys1nhawaii · 8 months

Text

"NOT TO ME, NOT IF IT'S YOU"

pairing: dabi/ todoroki touya x gn!reader

warnings: s3lf h4rm, blood, suicidal thoughts, mentions of blades, mentions of reader's family problems, self doubt, etc.

wc: 3k+

a/n: not proof read. also idk why i chose a plot like this to write on but i know it's not only me who suffers from these kind of addictions and know that wherever or whoever you are, you're not alone. <3

you're lying with your back pressed to the cold bathroom wall. you shiver, almost drop the blade in your hand.

why am i like this?

the house is quiet. the world also is. the voice of the tapping water sound of your faucet is all that catches your ears. but your mind's too blurry to care.

you're soaked in wet blood from your chest to your knees. its stupid is what it is, you think. what was wrong you? even though if you suffer you shouldn't give in your thoughts that easily. your self control felt way too far at the moment. the sore feeling of your arm made you drift into the heavy silence as your eyes closed shut.

the next thing you hear is banging. you jump awake from your sleep as you try to gain consciousness of the situation.

"doll? i know you're here, open the door."

you stood up as quick as you can and pulled down the sleeves of your shirt. your figure catches your gaze from the reflection on the mirror. you looked horrible, and the blood soaked clothes didnt seem to help you any better.

you quickly put on a jacket you tossed aside sometime you dont even remember when and thank your luck for it.

when you open the door, you see your boyfriend with a frown on his face.

"what took you so long?" he mutters as if he wasn't almost torning your door apart just a few seconds ago. "you got me worried."

you take a few steps back and turn your back to him. you didn't want him to see your drained face. "why are you banging the door like that? jeez, calm down, i'm here."

his gaze travels around your body and stops at a specific place when the little blood stain on your sleeve catches his eye. he frowns and and tiltes his head.

"what's wrong with you?" he throws. even though his voice comes out nonchalant, the worried look on his face gives him away.

"what do you mean?" you bite back. "i'm fine."

the tension in the room is poisonous. you're scared shitless that he might notice your situation and in the other hand he knows something is terribly wrong but he doesn't know how to throw hands.

so you both do what you two do the best, rage.

"you don't look fine." he hisses. you swear you see him clenching his jaw and giving you the look that sent shivers down your spine. you move your trembling hands in front of you so he wouldn't see how fucked up your situation was right now.

fucking christ, you thought. is it really the best time for you to be here?

when his question remains unanswered, he calls your name. however, you're convinced to not answer. you're scared for your life that if you say anything he'll notice it.

"touya, i'm sorry but i just want to sleep. if you're just here to rage at me then i'm afraid i won't be returning it bac-"

your words get cut when you feel the grip of his rough hands on your wrist. you hiss in pain at the sudden movement as he stands just a few inches away from your face.

"answer me, y/n. answer me when i ask you what's wrong." you feel your gut turning in your stomach when you feel his deep and serious voice hitting your face. you swear he hears your pumping heartbeat at that second.

"i did." you try to sound calm and perfectly fine. though, you knew you couldn't put an act. not with him. you knew incredibly well that whatever you were selling, he wasn't buying.

"i told you that i'm fine. why are you exaggerating?"

he lowers his head and his lips are now just in front of yours. his rough gaze never leaves your eyes and you desperately wish for a miracle to pull you out from your situation. "because i know for a fucking fact that you're lying."

when you don't answer, he shifts his grip from your wrist to the sleeve of your jacket to slide it up. the next thing you feel is a gut wrenching fear and pain when you pull your arm from his hands as hard as you can.

"the fuck you're doing?" you hiss. you take a few steps back but realize your struggles weren't working when he took the same amount of steps at you till you were captured between him and your window.

"get away." you spit out. "you're being fucking weird." he blocks you with his huge figure when you try to get out of the situation by moving out from the side gape.

"i said get away!"

"talk to me!"

you have tears in your eyes that are just waiting for your next move to spill on your cheeks. you cuss yourself, even despise yourself mentally. you couldn't cry here like that, not in front of him.

"talk to me so i can fucking understand what's going on! i can't just miraculously find out the issue!"

"nobody asked you to do it anyway!" you finally push him away with the last strength you found in yourself. "stop creating a scene and let me fucking rest god dammit!"

when you try to walk away to your bed, your movements are once again cut with another grip on your wrists. this time, you don't only hiss, but yelp at the sore pain of the cut he was squeezing between his hands.

"i told you to get away from m-"

this time, you're cut with an embrace instead of an another yell from him. your body shakes under his as your knees give in to his warmness. he keeps you like that till you silently sob on his chest with his hands caressing your scalp gently. he patiently listens to you spilling out your venomous drops of pain as he whispered quiet nothings into your ear.

"sshh, doll, it's okay. i'm here, alright? everything's fine. you're safe here, angel. you're okay."

when your tears subside, he gently pulls your head from his chest and look at your eyes with a bright spark of care and love in his' nobody has probably ever seen before.

"are you feeling better, love?" he strokes your cheek with his thumb carefully, like you were a brittle tea cup in front of him that could shatter into pieces by any second. all you can do is to nod tiredly at him and try to erase the pain in your chest that's been strangling you ever since.

he gently holds you from your waist and your wrists, this time more carefully. he leads you to your bed and sits you there. he pecks a kiss on your forehead. "wait me here." you hear him speak, but can't really keep up with his pace. by the time you turn your head to see where he went, he was already gone.

a few moments later with you sitting silently at the same spot he had put you, he came back with an aid kid in his hands and sit on the bed next to you.

what happened after was silence. you turned your face away from him in shame when he gently took off your jacket and revealed your torned apart arm. no words were spoken as he carefully wiped the dirty blood and patched up your fresh scars with bandages. he silently dressed you up in fresh clean clothes and tucked you into bed as he turned the lights off.

"are you mad at me?" you ask, after what feels like forever. he tightens his grip around your waist at that. "why would i be?"

"i don't know." you mutter, it's almost unable to hear. "i am insufferable."

he raises his face from the crook of your neck to your chest. no matter how dark the room is, you swear you see his azure irises looking at you right by your side.

"i'm mad at the world. for having you get so hopeless and done with your life. i'm mad at your family for wasting you and doing all of this with no spark of care. i'm mad at myself because no matter how long i knew you were on thin ice, i didn't do anything about it. i am mad at everything but you. i can never be mad at you. you have done nothing for me to be mad at you."

"im sorry." you whisper.

"and why's that?"

"i put you through a lot. i always create a problem and always get you worried about me."

your gaze once again turns back at him when he wraps his finger around a strand piece of your hair and tugs it behind your ear. his voice is soft and careful when he speaks. "you're all i have in this life, doll. you deserve every good thing in this life and every little thing that it brings to you. you give me everything i could ever ask for. you love me, not for who i can be, but for who i am. that's the least i can do for you."

you don't talk for a few moments after that. his thumb brushing on your cheek helps you just perfectly to slip off of your worries. his warmness was all you have needed.

"you don't have to do that though."

"but i want to." he's clear on what he's trying to imply and your words could only make him go harder on you to believe his words. he once again drops his head in the crook of your neck as he holds you closer.

"i'll take care of you." he kisses your neck.

"it's rotten work."

"not to me. not if it's you."

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inkykeiji · 8 months

Text

character: todoroki touya | dabi x fem!reader

genre: smut | dark academia au

notes: this was technically supposed to be for the ‘ravens and crows’ prompt but it grew and it grew and it grew and so!!! here it is! set in my dark academia au!

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, toxic relationship, rough and messy facefucking, semi-public, dubcon, dacryphilia, cum swallowing

words: 2.7k

The air in the library is sticky, humid and heavy with the heat of late summer. The casement windows, made of crystal and wire, are opened wide, letting streams of setting sunlight paint the aisles unhindered. It turns the library a hazy gold, highlighting the dust motes wandering aimlessly between the shelves, dislodged from their cozy homes of old paper and rotting canvas by curious hands.

The wind howls gently, gathering stray leaves in its gusts and hurling them in swirls at the bricks, disturbing the tap of the ravens and the caw of the crows; a warning.

Summer will be dead soon.

A breeze meanders through the window, cool on your damp neck, and you hum softly, fingertips trailing along the spines, looking for the gaping space to wedge this recently returned book back where it belongs.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice him; don’t hear his Balenciaga boots or his soft breath, don’t see his shadow creeping up behind you, slow and steady as it engulfs you, don’t realize anything until it’s too late, until one arm is wrapping around your hips and the other is slapping a hand over your mouth.

The sudden action startles you, a jolt of surprise coursing through your entire body and yanking a yelp from your throat, only to be muffled by the palm clasped tightly over your lips.

He’s laughing in your ear, low and smooth, dark and decadent, a sound that pours over your body like a slow, thick syrup, leaving trails of chills in its wake.

Bigger than you, stronger than you, smarter, faster, better than you, he spins you around with ease, trapping your body between his and the bookshelves, the sharp wooden edges cutting into your back.

“Surprise,” his breath wafts across your face, stained with cedarwood and smoke, word drifting through a lopsided smirk.

“Jesus, Touya,” you’re nearly panting out, chest heaving against his. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

“Why not?” he asks, a slight pout to his voice. “You’re so cute when you’re scared.”

“Very funny,” you roll your eyes, attempting to push past him and back to your book trolley.

“Hey, where you going?” his hips shove forward, forcing your legs to part, the jutting bones carving into your inner thighs, effectively keeping you pinned. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

And although his voice is amicable enough, the glint in his eye is sharp, shimmering as it catches on the setting sun, the ghost of a shiver climbing the notches of your spine, leaving each vertebra icy with dread.

“I don’t care whether you’re finished with me or not, I have to get back to work.”

“Aw, come on, you can hang out with me for a little longer.”

“Touya, I need this job. My father doesn’t own a tech company like yours does. If I’m caught—”

“Then I will pay for whatever you need, simple as that.”

“Yeah, right,” you snort. “And con me into being indebted to you for eternity? I don’t think so.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Sounds like hell.”

“I can think of worse.”

“I don’t think I want to know what goes on in that head of yours.”

That gets him to crack a smile; genuine, terrifying. Sapphire sweeps your face, slow and scrutinizing, gears of his brilliant brain beginning to shift in thought. A beat of silence passes before he speaks again.

“Gimme a kiss and I’ll let you go.”

“God, could you be any more cliche?” you struggle against him again, trying to worm your way free, and he pushes back hard, forcing a short, high pitched cry from your throat.

“I didn’t say on my lips.”

“Oh, fuck off—”

“You’re brave, talking to me like that.”

“Touya,” you say, and although it’s supposed to be a warning, firm and sharp, the name trembles on your tongue, wavering with fear. “If we get caught—”

“Look around you,” he says, eyes gleaming as he raises his brows in question. “Do you see anyone else?”

No. You don’t.

You don’t, because you’re in one of the furthest, deepest corners of the library; secluded, hidden, and utterly trapped.

He’s been waiting for this.

It dawns on you then, that he must’ve been following you, tracking you, stalking his prey and biding his time until the opportune moment to strike—when you were alone, unassuming, and entirely unarmed.

His smirk has grown into a grin, stretched unnaturally wide across his handsome face, tinged with a deranged sort of glee. His eyes are soaking it all up, every little micro-expression that morphs your features as you realize the full weight of the situation.

“C’mon,” he breathes, hips rutting against your inner thigh in barely there gyrations. “I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

“You have?”

And you hate the sheer desperation in your voice, the question breathed out in a single breath, quick and airy on your tongue.

“Of course I have,” he knocks his forehead against yours, malicious smile still in place, the words said like a slap to the face, like you’re so fucking stupid to think otherwise, but it’s so fucking precious how eager you are for the confirmation. “Don’t you want to be good for me and give my cock just a teensy tiny little kiss? It misses you, you know, can’t you feel how much?”

And he sounds so fucking genuine as he shifts his hips between your thighs and presses his cock, now hot and hard, into your core, grinding up against your clit. It forces a moan from your chest, soft and pitchy, lips pressing together firmly in a pathetic attempt to silence it.

“Don’t let me down now, sweetheart.” No, not after all the trouble he’s been through, all the watching and waiting.

Oh, you would never, could never, even if you wanted to—no matter how badly you wanted to.

Glowing sapphire watches as you slide down his body and sink to the floor, kneecaps on his toes, delicate fingers making quick work of his belt, picking at the heavy chrome buckle and tugging at the strap. It clinks together as you undo the zipper of his jeans, the weight of the buckle pulling his pants open further, denim folding over.

And God, his cock is so fucking pretty, dusty pink and smooth as velvet, save for that one big, thick vein that runs, almost perfectly straight, along the bottom of his shaft.

Your mind is already beginning to evaporate into a dense fog of lust, starved for his praise and eager to please, torrents of saliva beginning to collect in the cavities of your cheeks and pool beneath your tongue.

A thick bout of shame surges through your veins, but it isn’t nearly enough to dispel the hedonistic haze Touya casts over your brain.

He holds it steady for you, a slender hand wrapped around the base, pupils gaping and unhindered as he watches you inch forward, puckered lips pressing a sweet, sloppy kiss to the tip of his cock.

It’s open-mouthed, tongue swiping over the slit in a swift caress and collecting a weeping bead of precum, bitter and salty as it seeps into your tastebuds.

Pulling back, you stare up at him with desperate desire slapped across your face, lips parted with panting little breaths, a glimmering thread of precum keeping your mouth connected to him, and holy Christ, he’s breathing as he smears the sticky substance across your chin and your jaw with the steadily leaking head of his cock, painting you in stringy webs of him, that’s so fucking hot.

It’s being shoved past your lips and down your throat without warning—there never is any, not with Touya—and you sputter around the unexpected intrusion, a film of reflexive tears shielding your eyes.

“Good girl,” Touya breathes, and your jaw automatically stretches wider, peering up at him with a sort of insatiable devoutness. “Take it all for me.”

And so, you do.

Because he’s hypnotic, his presence an instant, addictive, irresistible pull, his praise and respect even more so. They’re drugs you gorge yourself on, drugs you vie and scratch and scream and claw for, drugs that make you feel pathetic, but drugs you can’t stop using nonetheless.

Because praise from Touya makes you feel like you’re on top of the fucking world. Praise from Touya is a hard, precious, valuable resource to come by, rare and not easily doled out. You have to earn it, he had once told you. You have to really deserve it.

“Yeah, yeah, s’it,” he encourages as you endeavour to swallow him more, to suck him down further. “S’a good girl for me. Go on, make me proud.”

It’s always speckled with a hefty dose of sugared degradation, cooed yet condescending. But the praise that falls from his mouth, cracking with sincerity as his head tilts back, strong jaw on display, the lines and ridges of his neck moving with his voice, soothes any sting his insults could bring. They make it all so worth it.

Because Touya has what you wish you had, what you want to have, what you will have, according to him, if you stay his good little girl. Touya has executive access to that exclusive, elusive upper class world; a place you’ve always been able to worm your way into with pretty smiles and batting eyelashes, but a place you’re consistently pushed out of.

Touya can make it permanent. Touya can find a spot where you belong, where you snap perfectly into place, cozy and comfortable as if you were always meant to be there—easy, effortless, effaced.

And, really, that’s all you want. That’s all you’ve ever wanted.

Acceptance, belonging, community.

So you take him down your throat with ardency, wretch your jaw open further, hinges straining with a dull, dense ache, doing anything and everything he says in an effort to make him proud, just like he asked you to.

You’re barely able to get a few good pumps in before lithe fingers are curling around your skull, palms pressed to your temples and thumbs digging bruises into your cheekbones as he grips your head tightly, holding you in place and wedging his cock down your throat.

The pace is brutal right from the start, the pounding of his hips so powerful that it has the tip of your nose repeatedly slamming against his pubic bone, swollen lips leaving crude kisses of saliva streaked across his skin.

The slap of your face against his groin is grotesque, paired with the sick squelching each thrust procures and the pathetic, embarrassing sounds oozing from the corners of your lips—choked off gags and snuffed out whimpers and those pitiful little sniffles, hiccuped with each hitch of your chest.

But they all feel so good around him, baby, you feel so fuckin’ good, so you don’t try to stifle them, borderline weeping around him, unbridled and unreserved.

Your fingers curl in the waistband of his jeans and briefs—a small comfort to hold onto as he fucks your mouth raw, hips snapping rough and fast and downright ruthless.

A condescending coo slips from between his lips, as if it’s precious that you need something to ground you while he ravages your throat, knuckles pressed firmly against flexing thighs as you cling to him, and he takes it as an invitation to speed up, movements turned vicious.

Your head thwacks off the edge of the shelf behind you, sending thorns of pain searing through your skull. A loud whine vibrates around Touya’s cock, the sound rammed back down your throat by the head, and he groans, deep and guttural, Adams apple quivering with the sound.

The sharp agony radiates, a deep ache that burrows into your neck, and you can feel the sore spot beginning to swell. It knocks against the wood again, your eyes snapping shut with a wince, tight enough to crinkle your lids, the motion dislodging tears from the corners, cascading down your face in fat, sticky streams.

“No, no, no,” he’s panting. “Keep those pretty eyes open for me.”

Your lids spring open again, an involuntary reflex, a zealous attempt to appease their master, lashes heavy and weighted with tears, sparkling crystal drops clinging perilously to clumped spikes.

Anything, anything, anything for him.

And, oh, how those eyes shine for him. Such pathetic, pious dedication.

“Fu-Fuck,” he nearly whines, the curse hoarse as it splinters in his throat, eyes voracious as they drink you in, soak you up, swallow you down. “Yeah, yeah, jus’like that.”

It hurts, but it’s over quick; only three more pistons of his hips before he’s holding you flush to his gut, his whole cock jammed down your throat as it spurts hot, thick cum, that one vein throbbing on your tongue.

You’re absolutely sobbing around him, strings of snot infused drool dribbling from your lips as you suffocate on his flesh, lungs beginning to burn, shriveling to ash in your chest. Instinctively, your head wrenches, desperate for oxygen, but he growls, the sound so deep, so dark you swear it rattles his ribcage.

“Hold it, hold it,” he keens, hips twitching a little as his fingers strengthen their grip, stamping bruises into the already puffy contusion, blunt nails carving deep crescent indents into the back of your scalp. Your struggling stops almost instantly, coughing harshly around his cock, and his hips jerk, a moan shattering on his tongue.

You can do nothing but take it, take it all for him, just like you were told to. What a good little girl he’s caught himself.

It’s only after he’s emptied his balls into your stomach, forced all his cum into your tummy, full and bloated, that his grasp finally lets up, tugging you off of him with knuckles rooted in your hair, groaning a little at the thick ropes of milky saliva tethering your mouth to his cock.

You’re sputtering the very moment he lets up, whole body shuddering as you gulp down razored air.

“You look so fucking perfect on your knees for me, baby,” he’s rasping out, collarbone shimmering with perspiration as it heaves. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a prettier sight.”

A whine slips from your lips, and he takes a moment to admire you, sapphire sweeping across your face in slow, deliberate motions, almost as if he’s cataloguing your expression, outlining it all—the tear-stained cheeks and the spit-slicked chin and the sheer devotion spilling from your lashes—and searing it into the fabric of his memory.

“You’re a piece of art all on your own, aren’t you?”

Maybe you are, with streaks of glittering salt soiling your bruised cheeks and crystal dewdrops suspended in your spiky lashes and his cum, ivory and pearlescent, oozing from the corner of your lips to roll down your chin in thick dollops of cream.

His pupils are cavernous, carnivorous, ragged little pants exhaled through parted lips, stare unblinking as he watches drops of his cum drip off the line of your jaw in sticky, viscous cords, mixed with your saliva, drizzling onto your bosom and soaking the unbuttoned collar of your shirt.

“What a fucking mess you are,” he breathes, thumb and forefinger grasping your chin and yanking, forcing you to look up at him. “What a fucking mess I’ve made of you.”

All you can do is whimper and nod, fingers clinging to his waistband as you paw at him, a pitiful attempt to get closer.

A masterpiece. His masterpiece.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Did I fuck the brains from your skull?” he tuts his tongue, mouth fashioned in a mocking pout, eyes shining with amusement. “Where’s that smart, snarky little girl now?”

“Wanna be good for you,” you drool out, looking up at him with lidded, bleary eyes, glistening with admiration, with awe, as if he’s the most magnificent sight you’ve ever seen, as if he’s a fucking god. “S’all, Touya, s’all.”

“Oh, precious,” he murmurs, thumb caressing a rapidly developing bruise, gaze following his movement for a moment before connecting with your own again. “I know. And you will be.”

He promises, you will be.

Outside, as the light dims, sun devoured by the rapidly encroaching darkness, the ravens and crows pick at carcasses and caw into the night.

#dabi smut #dabi x reader #dabi x you #todoroki touya smut #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya x you #weeeeeee yay

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