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dabisqueen · 2 years

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Falling in Love Chapter 4

Rockstar Dabi (Touya) x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: roughly 5.9K

⇢ series plot: after receiving a VIP ticket to a concert of the most popular rock band, you go and it proves to be a life-changing event.

⇢ current plot: after seeing Dabi cheating on you live on television, you ignore him completely. Until you're invited to a party by Tenko and meet up with him again.

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, drug abuse, gay sex (Dabi receiving), alcohol consumption, mentions of blood, some violence (against inanimate objects), kissing

Personal note: hope you all like Rockstar Dabi again and he apologized enough. This is just a lot of dialogue. More smut in the following chapters, I promise!

series masterlist

It was yet another town, another gig for the band, giant speakers on all four corners of the venue blasting music to keep the crowd entertained while the stage was set up and the band was getting ready.

The chanting was deafening, even audible in the lower level backstage rooms, even in the small bathroom next to the Dressing Room.

It didn't diminish the chud chud of skin hitting skin filling the small space though. Dabi leaned over the lidded toilet seat, his pants pushed just below his butt cheeks, while Keigo’s dick was buried deep inside of him.

A low growl reverberated from his throat, “Hurry up already, Keigo, we're up soon—”

Taking a big gulp from the bottle filled with amber liquid, Keigo placed it back on the bathroom counter before his hand laid on Dabi's back, stroking its palm along his spine before finding purchase on Dabi’s hips again.

“Yeah, I know—” Keigo huffed, placing a foot on the garbage can, levering himself while he kept thrusting his dick into Dabi’s tight hole.

Rolling his hips a few times, he felt his bandmate shudder as he brushed along his prostate and keeping that position, he started increasing the pace.

“Oh fuck,” Dabi groaned, sweaty palms pressed against the cold tiled wall, trying to steady himself against the deep thrusts Keigo was giving him.

His thick cock, glistening with precum, bobbed heavily under his own weight with each push forward and his eyes screwed shut as he felt his abdomen tighten up.

“Keigo—,” he groaned again, the man behind him shoving his cock repeatedly deep inside of him.

“Shit yeah, m’close,” Keigo's bruising grip on Dabi’s hips loosened as he snaked one hand around his waist to circle around Dabi’s thick pierced girth, squeezing it once before starting to pump it, the metal barbells sliding with, increasing the friction on Dabi's cock.

The groans that simultaneously fell from their lips were obscenely loud as Dabi’s head fell forward, the feeling of being so stuffed and Keigo's hot palm stroking his cock being too much.

“Gonna –fuck– cum,” he gritted his teeth as he felt his balls tighten, his dick starting to twitch.

Keigo's thrusts became erratic as he pressed his chest flush against Dabis' back, his breath hot along his ear when he groaned, "Me too."

With a few more deep strokes Dabi came undone, thick ropes of cum shooting from his tip, splattering against the toilet seat and the wall.

“Shit, I–I love…” Keigo the rest of his words trailed off as he slammed his hips flush against Dabi’s ass and stilled while he came, filling his colleague's tight cavern with his own hot seed.

Both men stayed like that for a few moments, trying to catch their breaths. Keigo savored the warmth of Dabi around him, against his chest. His still hard cock in his hand, cum drooling out its pierced tip, off the metal ring and onto the puddles on the toilet seat.

Dabi didn't move. His eyes lay hidden behind his long raven bangs hanging into his face. Reluctantly, Keigo let go of his cock and grunted when he slipped out with a wet squelch, stepping back and starting to tug himself away.

Dabi straightened up, quietly pulled his pants over this bare ass, stuffing his semi-hard length in his pants the best he could, and buckled his belt with a clanking sound.

Raking one hand through his messy, blonde strands, Keigo grabbed the whiskey bottle with his other and turned to open the bathroom door.

He glanced at Dabi over his shoulder with his golden eyes, “You coming?"

“Just gimme a minute,” Dabi didn't look up, just nudged his head towards the door and Keigo nodded, slipping silently out of the room.

As the door fell close again, Dabi’s hand slipped into his pant pocket to retrieve a small package with white crystalline powder in it.

Ignoring the mess they had made, he turned towards the sink counter, emptying the package onto it before forming two lines.

The weeks after that fateful live broadcast had been like a blur to you. After a day of silence, Dabi had contacted you, but every message of his you deleted, every call of his you rejected.

They had become fewer and eventually stopped, but it had not helped with the pain in your heart, which kept on throbbing thickly through your veins.

If it hadn't been for your roommate, you would've laid in bed all day, crying – she had comforted you through this challenging time – still, you lost your appetite, sleep becoming rare for all the bad dreams ripping you from it. So, the sorrow started to show. Dark rings were formed under your eyes and your cheeks hollowed out.

It took several weeks for your heart to stop aching, the wounds on it to crust over.

It was then when your phone rang and looking at its display, it took you by surprise to see Tenko’s name on it.

As soon as you picked up and held the phone to your ear, his raspy voice asked, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

“Hey, Tenko, nice to hear from you,” you snickered, being used to his blunt ways.

“Yeah yeah,” he grunted annoyedly, continuing to repeat, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Uhm, nothing, work I guess, why?” your voice turned curious.

“Take off,” he stated with an irritated sigh.

“What?” you sucked in a deep breath.

“Yeah, take off of work.” he scoffed, “You're going with me.”

“Tenko, what's going on?” You let out a sigh.

There was a brief silence before he continued, “Do you own a dress?”

“Yeah, why– what?” your slight confusion grew by the second, “Tenko, what is going on?

There was a short pause before Tenko sighed, “Ok, told you I'm bad at this but you're the only woman I know who's – well - normal.”

“Tenko, tell me what is going on.”

“I want you to accompany me to a party.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it's a party to celebrate the success of your tour,” he explained. “And I want you there. So – take off.”

“Damn, Tenko, that comes pretty sudden, you realize that right?” you knew you never really stood a chance.

“I’m gonna pick you up at noon. Don't forget the dress—” and with that, he hung up.

Startled, you stared at the black phone screen and weren't quite sure if that conversation just happened or not.

You sighed and screwed your eyes shut. Fuck. Turning to walk into the shared living room, you approached your friend.

“You'll never guess what just happened,” you groaned as she cocked a brow at you.

“If it was that dumb motherfucker again, I'm gonna kill him—” her expression grew stern.

“No, not him,” you raked your hand through your hair, taking a deep inhale, “Tenko just called and invited me to an LoV Tour celebration.”

“You're kidding, right?” Her face went taut, catching herself not to become too loud.

She bridged the short distance between you, placing her warm hands on your shoulders, staring at you with, “If it's an LoV party, Dabi is gonna be there.”

“So what, I'm over him—” you tried your best to avoid her gaze, knowing well that you both knew better.

"I know you aren't, but—” she looked you over with no small amount of concern, “Will you be ok?”

“Yes, I think so,” you assured her, “I'm gonna be there with Tenko, remember?”

“Fine, I’ll let you go,” she raised her hands to cup your face, “But if that fucker so much as touches you, he's dead, ok?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you giggled, poking your tongue at her, “Gonna help me pick out a dress now and pack my bags?”

At noon the next day, the doorbell rang. Your friend hugged you goodbye saying to call her any time if the need arose.

Pecking a kiss on your cheek you turned, grabbed your bag, and went to the door. The chauffeur held open the door to the black SUV. You entered and the man put away your luggage, resuming his place behind the steering wheel.

And then you started driving through the city and onto the highway. When you inquired where you were going he didn't reply, continuing to thread in and out of traffic.

You started having a hunch when he turned towards the airport. But rather than dropping you off at the terminal, the driver took a turn and through a security gate heading out onto the tarmac.

You gasped when you saw it –the Gulfstream GV private jet with the stark blue logo of the LoV across the fuselage.

When the SUV stopped at the foot of the steps leading up to the plane, the driver leaped out to open the door for you to walk up the airstair. Inside the cabin, a uniformed captain and steward were there to greet you and show you around before assigning you to your seat.

The lavish interior was kept in turquoise gray colors. The muted tones, gleaming wood, and comfortable seats were seamlessly integrated and visually appealing. A mirrored ceiling made the room appear both lofty and spacious and the curving plush couches to each side as well as the translucent partitions made the jet’s interior exquisite.

It all seemed very distinctive, luxurious, and tranquil. After being seated and getting clearance, the jet rolled over the runway and lifted off swiftly.

It was one of the smoothest flights ever with little turbulence. Time flew by with the steward bringing some delicacies and a glass of chilled champagne. In no time the jet descended again, and after landing and moving to a waiting SUV again, you drove off to your hotel.

After arriving in your suite and settling down, you received another call from Tenko asking if you made it alright. He continued saying that he would have you picked up in a few hours, giving you enough time to freshen up and get ready.

After not being satisfied with any of your wardrobe choices, you and your roommate had gone out shopping for a nightgown. The result of that spree was this ridiculously expensive, long satin silver dress. You stared into the mirror, admiring how it hugged your curves perfectly, the thin straps hooking over the shoulders and the low cut at the front revealing almost too much.

The high heels were matching silver in color, with strass straps snaking their way up and around your ankle. You left your hair natural and just added some smokey eyes and lipstick.

Tenko met you at the entrance to a private mansion on a hill overlooking the bay area, staring at you from under his unruly pale hair hanging into his face. A cute flush spread across his cheeks as his hand rose to scratch his neck, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips. He was dressed casually, just a black shirt and tight pants.

You were kind of surprised by his toned physique, which he usually hid behind baggy clothes.

Knowing too well that his nervous scratching would result in, you gently pried his hand off his neck, saying, “Let’s go, Tenko, and have some fun, ok?”

He just nodded, jerking his head as to scratch that itch, and moved to lead you through the lobby of a vast mansion. Offering his arm, a shy smirk played along his lips as you luckily accepted his offer and you both walked into the stunning living room.

A spectacular jaw-dropping sea view opened up in front of you, a stretch of enormous bay windows blurring the lines between indoors and out.

You stopped dead in your tracks, Tenko turning to give you an inquisitive look.

It felt overwhelming.

Taking a deep breath and holding onto his arm even tighter you started moving again, approaching the vast luxury buffet – buttered lobster and truffled scallops just a sample of its exquisite selection – in hopes of finding something to drink to calm your rattled nerves.

Dabi was standing across the room with Keigo at his side. He wore his usual dark tank top and used-look jeans. Keigo next to him was similar in appearance.

Dabi lifted the glass he held in his palm to his lips, letting the amber liquid pool on his tongue before swallowing it. Leaning against the wall, his lazy-lidded azures roamed the crowd with growing disinterest and annoyance.

A movement across the room caught his interest, his sapphire eyes flitting towards the huge glass door when they suddenly grew wide. It was you, walking in with Tenko at your side, in a dress that hugged your figure like liquid silver.

Glossing his cerulean eyes over your appearance, he forgot Keigo beside him, his half-finished drink in his hand, the crowd, the music.

All he saw was you.

It was hard to focus on anything else as he could barely think about anything else but you. His eyes focused on your lips – painted red with your bold lipstick choice. He didn't want to admit it, but you looked stunning.

And the dress. It hugged all of your curves just perfectly and his cock pulsed hot with desire inside his pants.

“What the hell is she doing here,” Dabi couldn't avert his eyes from you, as you leaned against Tenko, shoulders brushing against his arm. The way you looked at his bandmate with your genuine smile, your eyes lighting up when he said something to you.

“Fuck, she never even replied to my messages or calls,” he pressed out between tensed lips, a wrenching feeling spreading in his veins.

Chugging his drink, he grabbed the nearby bottle to refill it, hoping that it would ease the tightness in his chest.

“Dabi, c'mon,” Keigo stepped closer to him, “Forget about her, you can have any pussy you want.”

Keigo's gold orbs flicked up and peered at Dabi. He was displeased by the way Dabi kept stealing glances at you, the way you stole Dabi's attention from him.

As the night progressed, he grew more and more frustrated. Dabi followed your every move with his eyes, attempts to engage him in a conversation by Keigo as well as other party-goers were intentionally ignored/shunned.

"Look man, you've been staring at them the entire night.” he eventually said, frustration weaved thickly into his voice.

Dabi growled, his gaze never straying from you, finishing yet again another glass of whiskey, refilling it instantly.

“Seems to me they are very happy with each other." Kei paused to accentuate his next words, "So why are you still giving her the looks?”

“Shut up, Keigo,” Dabi snapped, his icy blues still fixated on your figure across the room, “Not helping.”

“Man, c'mon, I know a way of cheering you up,” Keigo's hand trailed down Dabi’s back, coming to a rest on his firm ass, leaning in, as his lips brushed his colleague's earlobe, “You know I can make you forget her—”

But Dabi ignored Keigo's advances, chugged his drink, and slammed the glass on the closest surface, "I'm gonna go talk to her—"

Kicking off the wall with his shoe, he started his way through the crowd towards the other side, ignoring several flirtatious advances from other women along the way,

As Keigo watched him leave, his expression darkened, his jaw clenching as his narrow golden eyes wandered to where you stood.

Tenko and you were in the middle of a conversation when a hand caught your wrist.

“Man, will you excuse us for a second,” and with that Dabi pulled you away from him.

"Dabi, let go of me!" You tried to stop him but he wrapped an arm around you, weaving with you through the crowd, down the hall and into the next private restroom. Locking the door behind him, he spun around to glower at you. His turquoise eyes flashing dangerously from underneath his bangs as he approached, making you involuntarily back up against the wall.

"What the fuck you think you're doing?" he bridged the gap between you, his hands slamming against the wall, caging you in.

This close, you could feel his hot breath on your face as he glowered down at you.

"Let me go," you tried to push past him, heat peaking in your face.

"What the fuck are you doing, not answering any of my calls,” ignoring your complaints, his words came out as a hiss, “Only to be running around with Tenko?"

"I'm not yours, Dabi, what do you want from m—" but he interrupted, his voice high-pitched as he almost yelled out "The fuck you are!"

You both looked at each other, viscid silence spreading between you.

Releasing his hold on the wall, he closed his eyes, raking his hand through his hair, taking a deep inhale before looking back at you. "Look, I'm really bad at this–” he gestures with his hand between you and him, "–thing!"

Crossing your arms, you cocked your head, "Well, what thing?"

He groaned and closed his mouth, pressing his lips to a thin line, his stare fixating the wall to avoid your gaze. A few moments passed and you straightened up.

"Excuse me, I need to go back to Tenko, who's not bad at this" you mockingly imitated his gestures from before, "–thing" and you started pushing past him.

Dabi's hand caught your wrist, stalling you, "Please."

Turning around to face him again, you could feel your patience wearing thin, "Please what?"

"Just –Christ– hear me out." His deep azures flicked back to yours.

"Oh, just like you heard out that girl at the concert?” The words slip out almost too fast, too aggressive for your own taste. “The one you promised the night of your life to?"

He froze.

The air turned so heavy, it felt like you were suffocating, slowly but steady. Silence surrounded you in which your eyes didn't avert from each other and your gaze grew stronger, sterner – while his face grew paler.

"You watched the concert?” His voice turned frigid and he swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing as he did. “You said you don't… I thought you wouldn't—”

"That I wouldn't watch?" It was then that your patience faded, your tension snapped and you yelled out, hurt and betrayal written on your face, “God dammit, Dabi, what were you thinking?"

His teeth worked at the inside of his cheek, averting his gaze from yours.

"What did you expect?" you ripped your wrist from his hand, "Do you even have anything to say to that?"

Still standing quietly, a dark frown was starting to form on his face, anger curling his hands into fists, lips twitching with frustration.

"I- I," he muttered, not knowing what and how to answer.

"Exactly. It's always just you!" You did your best to keep your voice level, proceeding to push past him, "Now if you excuse me—"

He stood unmoving, mouth pressed into a thin line, head hanging low. His dark bangs hung deep into his face, when his fists slowly tightened, knuckles turning white.

Just when your hand wrapped around the doorknob, you heard a savage roar behind you.

Spinning around, you saw Dabi angrily pulling on his wild raven strands, bowed over, as he stumbled back and hit the wall. His eyes darted up, his teeth grinding, seething at his reflection in the mirror.

With another deep, enraged scream, he jolted forward, slamming his fist into the mirror, cracking it into a thousand pieces.

Dabi, your words came out too faint, too much in shock as you watched the scene before you unravel.

"I hate you!" Dabi shouted, raising his hurt fist, slamming it into the mirror again, loosening the shards as they shattered all over the counter and floor.

"Fuck Dabi," you dropped your purse, ripped from your stupor as you took a shaky step away from the door.

Blood started dripping from his cut hand as he raised his fist again, about to slam it into the drywall.

"Dabi, stop!" Your words were shrill as you darted forward, throwing your arms around his chest, trying to pull him back.

"Get away from me!" He yelled, his broad voice deafening.

But you held on, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you yanked at his tall broad figure with your entire strength and body weight. He swayed, and his fist just missed the wall, sure to have broken his bones, as you both stumbled back and hit the wall.

The impact knocked the air from your lungs and stars appeared before your vision. You both sagged down to the ground, and you turned to pull him into a tight embrace, wrapping your arms around him.

You felt him exhale ragged breaths against your body when he growled like a feral animal, "Get away from me."

With both of you on your knees, he tried to wind out of your embrace, but you embraced him tightly, trying to calm his heaving body.

"I'm such a fuck-up" his hoarse voice came out just as a weak croak, with his face buried in your hair, "Just– so worthless."

And with that, he broke down.

A long wail clawed up his throat and he started crying, as his trembling hands circled your waist, clawing into your dress, holding onto you like a man drowning. Burying his head in the crook of your neck, his hot tears wet your skin as you continued to hold him tight, arms wrapped around his shoulders.

His entire body shook with each sob that rippled through him, swept away by emotions that he had bottled up inside for too long.

"I fucked up,“ he choked out between heavy sobs and hot tears, “I’m sorry.”

The honesty in his voice, the deep vulnerability he was showing you crushed your heart even more than seeing him with someone else. So you stayed like that, holding him close, whispering his name followed by a soft it’s okay, consoling him with your gentle words and touches.

Moments became minutes, minutes became first ten, then twenty, then what felt like an eternity. Dabi continued to cry until there were no more tears left, until his body was too exhausted to tremble, and you felt the tension drain from him.

His breath was hot against your skin as you stayed like that, two hurt people trying to seek comfort in each other.

“Touya.” His voice – so softly as if it was a whisper – broke the silence.

“What?” You leaned in to tenderly kiss his wet temple.

“It's Touya,” he breathed against your skin, "My real name."

And then his head tilted up to catch your gaze, his beautiful turquoise eyes bloodshot, tears hanging in his long dark lashes, mascara smeared across his cheeks.

“Touya,” you repeated, his name sounding like perfection coming from you.

He straightened up a bit, now eye level with you, "I– I haven't heard someone say that name in—"

As he trailed off, you waited when he moved to sit down against the wall, pulling his knees up. Crossing his arms on them, he rested his head against the wall, his gaze went to the ceiling.

"When I was thirteen, I ran away from home." He started and you mimicked his pose, turning your head to look at him directly.

"My dad wasn't supportive of me liking music," he paused, "He started punishing me, calling me worthless and a good for nothing."

"I tried pleasing him and hid my guitar," his hand rose to scratch at his nape, before resuming its previous position, "Practicing only in secret."

“But he found out eventually,” his breathing was suddenly strained with rage, “That's when he started hitting me.”

As you continued to listen to him, the words started to spill from his lips, "So I ran away– and with nowhere to stay, earning little money by playing music."

You kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt this intimate moment.

"I had nowhere to go, nowhere to turn." His head tilted to catch your gaze, "I slept on the streets and forgot where I came from."

Pausing for a moment, his strained gaze fixated on the ceiling again. Moving his hand to slide into the tight back pocket of his pants, he retrieved a crumpled-up cigarette package, a lighter stuck in it.

Taking out a cigarette, he pressed the cold bud to his still trembling lips.

With his other hand, he clicked the lighter to life. The hot flickering flame danced in front of his ocean blue eyes, which were dulled by the loss and pain he was reliving.

He took a drag before continuing.

"At one point, I was accepted at a shelter," his gaze fell to the floor, the cigarette in his hands slowly continuing to burn, "But it was no easy life."

"There were men," he paused to take another drag from his cigarette, "Who took each youngster entering. Even me."

Unknowingly, you reached out for him, placing your warm palm on his thigh. He tensed at first at the unexpected touch, but then relaxed, enjoying the warmth and comfort spreading with it. His eyes were still beautiful – yet filled with sadness and disgust.

His gaze dropped to his knees, cigarette stuck between his index and middle finger, nervous tumb playing absentmindedly with the many rings on his fingers.

"There was no other way than taking drugs to endure the torture that I went through." He took a shaky drag and exhaled the smoke slowly as if to calm himself.

"Many times I contemplated going back home, facing my… father—" his eyebrows furrowed with disgust when mentioning him.

Just to spit out the next words. "But I chose to rather take dick up my ass than come crawling back to him."

Just the thought of all the hardship he had to endure as a young boy had tears forming at your lash line. Your hand squeezed him in reassurance.

"One day while playing on the streets, I was approached by an agent and that's how it all started."

Another drag, another exhale. Then the bud was flicked carelessly across the room.

"But I only gave my alias to them," his eyes flitted to yours, "No one else knows my real name, my real identity.”

His breathing was even when he continued, "Except for you."

You didn’t think about it as your hand automatically rose to cup his face. And it wasn't like you thought about it when you leaned forward, your lips melting against his, your eyes fluttering shut. And it wasn't like you were actively thinking when the kiss grew deeper as Dabi weaved his fingers into your hair, pulling you closer.

You sighed into each other's mouths as he let himself drown deeper in passion, hard and powerful.

This wasn't just a kiss. It was an apology; a message to you that you were everything he had ever wanted. You felt it in the way he sighed into the kiss, the way he swore a fuck under his breath. The way he came to cup your face with his calloused fingers, angling your head so he could kiss you deeper, tongue sliding languidly against yours, making you feel the warmth of the metal in its middle.

The kiss was all-consuming. It erased all doubts and sorrows as it grew deeper and more passionate, tasting each other, your breath warm in each other's lungs.

When you broke the kiss, Dabi stopped his inhale, before shuddering it out slowly, resting his forehead against yours.

"I don't deserve you," he confessed, his voice hoarse and thick with emotions.

You stayed like that, eyes closed, his taste still lingering on your tongue. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he pulled you close, wrapping his free arm around you, pulling you in for a tight embrace.

“You are too good for me.”

“I might be…” you nuzzled into him.

“You're damn right.” He chuckled, dark and deep, but then grew quiet, “So, you and Tenko…”

“Dabi,” you retracted, meeting his eyes with a stern gaze, “I'm not a whore like—”

“Me?” A small smirk showing on his lips, a sprinkle of his usual glint back in his eyes.

“Maybe—" You pondered, dragging out the word to exaggerate it.

“I'm sorry,” serious again, his lips pressed to your forehead. “Will you forgive me?”

“For now, yes.” You sighed, “But let's discuss that another time. Right now, we need to get this cleaned up, before someone notices."

Dabi nodded in silence as you pulled from his embrace and scrambled to your feet. While you stepped back, you pulled your phone from your purse and dialed a number. It rang a few times before Tenko picked up.

“Where are you? I've been looking everywhere for you.” His angry rasp sent shivers up your spine.

“Please, Tenko, don't be mad,” you took a deep inhale, “But we have a small emergency.”

A bit later there was a soft knock at the door and when you opened it, Tenko slipped in, silently closing the door behind him before looking at the mess before him.

Seeing Dabi still propped up against the wall on the floor, eyes puffy and red, black trails of mascara running down his cheeks, his hand cut up and bruised, he let out a raspy grunt, “Dude, you look like shit.”

Dabi chuckled, "Thanks, I know!"

“Tenko, we need a cover-up for this mess,” you stated.

“Yeah, got it. I know the owner of this place, I'm gonna talk to him,” pulling out his phone Tenko dialed a number and started softly talking into it, turning away from you both.

You picked up a towel and wet it, kneeling in front of Dabi.

"Eyes up!" You gently hooked a finger under his chin, turning his face towards you.

“Gotta get you cleaned up as well,” your voice was low only for him to hear as you wiped the smeared mascara off his cheeks. His mesmerizing turquoise eyes kept looking at you, switching from one eye to another as you kept cleaning his face.

When you were finished you asked, "Can you stand up for me, big boy?"

He nodded and you held out your hand after getting up. He took it with his healthy one, standing up on his feet, unsteady. He waited for a second to balance himself, waiting for the pain in his chest to subside and the stars to disappear before turning towards you.

“Ok, c’mere,” you gently pulled him with you to the sink still littered with shards of glass.

Ridding the counter of most of them with a towel, you turned on the faucet and set the temperature to cold. Dabi stood behind you, brushing his chest against your back as he curled his arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

You took his mangled-looking hand and held it under the running water. Thin rivulets of red mixed with the clear water, disappearing down the drain.

“Got to keep it cold otherwise it'll swell too much.” You muttered, shuddering under the feeling of his hot breath fanning the skin below your earlobe.

“Thank you—” he murmured.

“For what?“ You pulled a tiny glass splinter from beside his knuckle, but he didn't even flinch.

“For being here. Doing this.” His soft lips grazed your skin.

“Hmm,” you hummed, continuing to rid his hand of the blood and glass shards.

The grip around your waist tightened when he placed a sensual kiss against your neck.

Tenko ended the call and turned to face you, "OK, this–" and his red eyes snapped to the broken mirror and back to you, "This is gonna be taken care of."

Approaching you, his hand shot up to scratch his neck, "But you guys need to think of something."

A look at the blood stains on your dress made him knit his brows, "Can't have you run around the party like that."

Dabi let go of you and inspected his bruised hand, the first swellings starting to show, "I guess we're calling it a night then."

A look up at his bandmate was all it took for the drummer to nod, "I'll take care of the rest here."

Dabi mouthed a silent thank you to him.

“And I guess I'll be alone again for the night,” Tenko let out a rough sigh, the disappointment on his face undeniable.

“Thank you, Tenks," you approached him, tugging a lock of pale hair out of his face, "I owe you.”

Leaning forward, your lips met his cheek, feeling tiny stubbles as you kissed him. Pulling back, a rosy tint spread across his face as his eyes darted to the floor, the scratching on his neck intensifying.

Sliding his fingers between yours, Dabi tugged you back towards him, "Enough of the smooching, she's mine."

"You're in no position to voice demands, sir" you gave him a stern look.

“Sorry.” He winced, but the twinkle in his eyes still shone mischievously.

Tenko stayed behind as both of you snuck down the hallway to the main entrance. An SUV was waiting outside already.

“Dabi, we're just going to sleep. Nothing else, ok?” You squinted your eyes at him in warning.

“Yes, ma'am,” he tugged you closer, nibbling on your earlobe.

“Imbecile,” you scolded, while he chuckled softly against your skin.

Once at the hotel, you both entered Dabi’s suite and after getting undressed and showered, he handed you one of his shirts to wear before you crawled under the blanket with him.

Wrapping his arms around you, sighed into your hair, inhaling you, your scent. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed before how heavenly it was. He closed his eyes, savoring each breath. It touched something deep inside of him he hadn’t felt before.

He felt so content, so at home again. He didn't know how he could have ever thought not to be with you.

And then the idea arose.

With his head still buried in your damp hair, he mumbled, "Come with me."

"Come where?” your voice was already riddled with sleep.

"On tour with me." He nuzzled deeper into your hair, eyes closing.

Your eyes shot open as you gasped, "You're l kidding, right?"

"Nope,” he nuzzled into your hair, "Stay with me – I wanna make it up to you."

"What about my job?" You tried to argue.

"Tell them to let you go." He continued, "If they do, I'll agree to a meet and greet with fans for free at their place."

"Dabi," you groaned, "I—"

"Please—" he sounded desperate, "I need you. By my side"

You sighed, knowing your heart had lost this fight already, "Ok, but under one condition: you need to call my roommate and apologize."

#rockstar dabi #dabi smut #dabi smut my hero academia #bnha dabi smut #mha dabi smut #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x keigo #dabi #dabi todoroki #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi my hero academia #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #bnha #fabi x reader #keigo x dabi #keigo smut

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sorryyourenglishteachersucked · 2 years

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The thing about how modern fandom has organized into a war between "antis" and "proshippers" is that...there are so many things that are WAY bigger than fandom wank wrapped up in this, and it is terrifying how all of this gets reduced into ultimately meaningless wank about which fictional dolls should kiss.

Let me ask you a couple of questions:

When you say "antis DNI", do you mean "antis" as in people who claim to be "protecting fandom" with their ship policing but have only ever gone after ONE het ship en masse for SOME ~inexplicable~ reason, assume their (mostly queer) peers are sexual predators by default and have to be trained out of predation and that many of us can be corrupted at the drop of a hat, see a fan space that isn't designated for them and assume it must be so closed off to harbor child abusers, hear "sexual expression" in largely queer spaces and immediately think "PEDOPHILIA AND INCEST!!" with absolutely no critical thought, are content to throw really heavy violent criminal accusations at largely marginalized people over flimsy-at-best evidence (and yes, finding entertainment value in the fictional dynamic between two people with an age gap that may be questionable irl IS flimsy at best), think that fandom will somehow manage to promote incestuous abuse even after Game of Thrones failed to do so despite having a much larger audience and having framed its questionable content as being ~there for realism~; and instead of just Disliking things, insist on finding reasons that no one can possibly like it without being A Horrible Person, often while arguing that questionable content in their own preferred media is Totally Fine IRL Actually and in the MOST extreme cases, actually seeking out real CSAM to weaponize against the targets of their ire?

Or do you mean people who dare to acknowledge that hey, there's a lot of irresponsible-at-best marketing and framing in mass media, like how rich and famous writers and directors insist on including gratuitous graphic sexual violence and excluding POC for "historical accuracy" in fantasy settings with dragons and shit, and a lot of racism and other really questionable shit in fandom, the fact that fandom is mostly composed of marginalized people does NOT make this okay, and hmm, maybe we need to criticize that and find a way to reduce it?

When you say "proshippers DNI", do you mean "proshippers" as in self-righteous edgelords who treat anyone setting a boundary about potentially triggering content in their own fan space as a personal attack, cannot hear criticism of their favorite thing without screaming "CENSORSHIP!" just like any right-wing chud but veiled in the language of social justice, defend hate speech and symbols in fan spaces in the name of "protecting freedom of expression" (at least as long as the hate is not aimed at them); turn edgy fanfiction into the golden calf of queer liberation such that it is not just an EXAMPLE of queer media that is often disproportionately attacked, but THE be-all and end-all of queer rights, make openly hating children and infantilizing teenagers into a cornerstone of their public-facing personalities and act like random rude 14-year olds on the internet are a bigger threat to queer expression than SESTA/FOSTA and payment processor cutoffs; deliberately chase children out of fandoms of media for children, and often create content with the primary motive of upsetting as many people as possible more than actually enjoying it themselves?

Or do you mean people who recognize that designating spaces for freedom of expression, including sexual expression, is really, really important especially for the historically marginalized groups that created the framework of transformative fandom culture; that there will ALWAYS be people who want to explore darker subject matter in fiction and coming up with tools to make that safer for all involved is a more beneficial AND more practical endeavor than banning most "bad" content outright; and that broadening the definition of "pedophilia" (which, yes, the former definition of "antis" ARE very much doing - here's a hint: for just one example, no matter the age gap, a relationship between two adults will NEVER be pedophilia, ever) and assuming it MUST be at the root of any "deviant" sexual expression has a long and bloody queerphobic history and it's REALLY FUCKING ALARMING how that mentality, right down to "freak" as the peak insult, has been so thoroughly introduced into a microcosm that is mostly composed of queer and otherwise marginalized people just by disguising it in the language of social justice?

Because, idk about you, but I don't want either of the former definitions up in my shit, but the latter? The latter positions can and should coexist.

We should be criticizing how entertainment juggernauts abuse their power and reach to keep society venerating people who look and act like their CEOs above all else, we should be criticizing the way "conventional" (read: "slap a bikini model on the ad and frame her as the product") sex appeal is treated as a necessity for marketing anything to adults, and we should be criticizing how often taboo fetishism is marketed by multi-billion dollar companies to the demographics most likely to be desperate enough to forget that some taboos exist for a damned good reason (i.e., lonely straight men with disposable income) just because that might give them a better quarterly report!

We should also be criticizing the wave of "LGBT-positive" thinly-veiled conservatism that's popping up in line with rainbow capitalism and teaching people how to recognize that just because someone can speak the language of progressivism and social justice, that doesn't necessarily mean their values have the best interest of marginalized people other than themself at heart.

The fact that this near-inevitably ends up spiraling into a highly polarized screaming match, occasionally touching on the bigger picture but only briefly before circling back to what is still EXTREMELY niche drama is...disheartening to say the least, because these are very real issues with way bigger implications than just ship wars. Bigotry making excuses for itself (the eagerness to call a ship "pedophilia" that is rarely directed at het ships, the fact that the energy put into fighting "problematic ships" by mostly queer and disabled small-time creators is rarely directed at major media creators, the ableism of "yeah well toughen up or gtfo snowflake", the defense of hate speech in the name of "freedom of speech" as if that hasn't been a neo-nazi dogwhistle for decades, etc.) and the concept of how hobbies can be used to radicalize people into some really awful ideologies, misdirection, overstatement of harm, understatement of harm, echo chambers that enable such overstatement and understatement of harm, the veneration of a platonic ideal of "children" as a rhetorical device while throwing actual children under the bus (exactly as anti-choice politicians do, but yet again veiled in the language of social justice) - all of that is wrapped up in this.

It is, by far, my least favorite mass fandom drama to date.

#fandom #sorry your english teacher sucked

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