Hello! I just discovered your page and I love your writing style.

I had this idea in my head for while now.

You know how Dabi went and visit Hawks’ mom for information about him? Well, what if he had a lovable little sister who was clueless about who Dabi is. She thought “oh, he is friends with my big brother there is no harm talking with him.”

Dabi flirts with her a good bit and Hawks comes home like “get away from my cute little sister!” But he does it around about way.

tainted angel 🪽 (pt.1)

PART 2 // PART 3// THE COMPLETE MASTERLIST divider by @cafekitsune

ෆ Pairing: DABI X HAWKS’ LITTLE SISTER

ෆ cw: Dabi being a flirt and a pervert, corruption kink, smut and dubcon in the next chapters so this one is mostly safe.

ෆ Before you read further: this is written entirely on Dabi’s POV. There are specific descriptions for Hawks’ sister such as hair color, eye color, skin, wings etc. and she is a female, age 20-21.

ෆ A/N: I love this request so much, it had my writing flowing so naturally and my motivation reached the sky. I hope you like this!

Another boring day of relentlessly hunting down for information. Walking in the empty alleyway, the weather’s getting bitter, clouds darkening the sky as rain is starting to fall, plinking against my black leather jacket. Man, I fucking hate rain. Feels uncomfortable on my skin, not to mention it weakens my quirk. But I have to finish this job. Once I start something today, I never leave it for tomorrow, cause we never know what tomorrow could bring. Unexpected things are not my forte, I prefer to plan my steps way ahead, I look closely at every clue and untangle any information that I see beneficial. Always one step ahead of my enemies, nothing goes away without catching my eye. No matter how small it is.

No matter how fast it is.

Yes, Hawks, the fastest hero out there, too fast for his own good. I chuckle under my breath, rolling my eyes at the thought of the traitorous pro hero. He’s been pretty useful so far, proven himself loyal to the cause. But something doesn’t sit right with me, hence the reason why I’m out there searchin’ for more information. Maybe it’s his sickening hero charm, makes me wanna vomit. Maybe it’s the fake smile he puts on that stupid face, who knows.. a traitor will always be a traitor. If he went as far as to betray the heroes, I won’t be surprised if he turns his back on us villains again.

Though if that happens, he will be incinerated before he even knows it. Burnt to ashes, those red feathers set ablaze by my own scorching flames. My hand itches at the thought of showing him his place, though I gotta stick with the plan and use him for all his worth.

Bzzz.

The sound of my burner phone grabs my attention. Probably one of my men who I’ve sent to stalk and watch over Hawks. Or maybe Twice, wanting to fuck around because he is lonely. Tch, I’m not in the mood either way.

“This better be important..” I rasp under my breath. Lately my patience’s been thin. Don’t know why.

“Sir, we have found something”

It was indeed one of the men I hired. Yeah, about time they finally made themselves useful. I hum in response, letting the man continue.

“The woman we found, she might be related to Hawks. According to the clues we’ve been gathering, it’s highly possible she could be his mother. If not his mother, then for sure someone from his family. We have found her address, all we need is your order so we can break in and get her for you, sir” the man explained.

“Mm there’s no need. I’ll pay the lady a visit myself” I smirk, knowing that she will be more intimidated by my grotesque sight only and start spilling everything. After the men give me her address, I waste no time to go there. Fortunately not too far from where I am right now.

Something weird forms in my chest. Not sure why, but I feel like I’m gonna have fun~

******

The picture I got sent was of a woman who seemed to be in her 40s, pale skin and exhausted eyes, big fluffy light brown hair, almost drained out of life. This is beyond weird, the mother of a pro hero who looked like she had lost her will to live? Ain’t no way. Supposedly the families of pro heroes usually live their best life.

A thought runs through my head and I chuckle. Damn, I should know by now, the families of pro heroes are those who in fact suffer the most.

Memorising the woman’s face and the address, I am now right in front of her house. It’s a small normal house, nothing fancy or special about it whatsoever. The rain has long stopped. I stop in front of her door, before giving it a few slow knocks. Nobody opens the door. I knock once again, if this door isn’t opened soon I’m gonna have to-

“Coming!! Just a second!!” A chirpy voice was heard, footsteps getting faster towards the door. This voice sounded lively, not the voice I could’ve imagined for the woman I’m looking for.

As the door opened, the sight in front of me leaves me speechless. My eyes widen a bit, taking in at person in front of me.

It’s a girl. Not the old woman in picture, this is a young pretty thing. Could be at her twenties, not sure. As she opens the door wider, she fixes her disheveled hair, removing those golden locks off her face while her caramel eyes fixed on mine, blinking in confusion with those pretty lashes. And her pjs, almost too revealing. Freckles cover her cheeks, her skin looks soft. It doesn’t take long for me to notice a pair of angelic white wings behind her.

“Umm hello, how can I help you with?” she asks, her voice meek and shy as she looks up at me under her lashes.

Fuck, it’s like the whole world stopped the moment I laid eyes her pretty face. I need to focus.

“Sorry for the bother, dollface” I manage to bring a friendly smile on my face but my raspy voice always betrays me. “I am looking for Hawks. I’m a friend of his..”

“Oh, Hawks? I’m sorry but my brother is not here at the moment. Maybe he is at his agency, did you check there?” she smiles back.

Before I find myself wondering why she is not scared by my appearance, my mind focuses on that one simple word: brother. She called Hawks her brother, so that means..

“Wait, don’t tell me that guy kept such a pretty thing like you hidden from me? You’re his sister?” I smirk, leaning on the doorstep, still stunned by the fact that the pro hero had a little sister.

“O-Oh yeah, I’m Takami Y/N!” she blushes, and my smirk grows wider knowing that such simple interaction already got me half of the information. That Hawks has a sister, and his last name is Takami.

“He doesn’t prefer to talk much about us in public” she continues. “It’s best for our safety”

Poor naive little thing. Got no clue in the world who I am, thinking I’m a friend. Is this how the hero looks over his family?

“Well well, that guy is full of surprises. You look a lot like him to be honest, that pretty hair of yours and those wings. A real angel aren’t cha?”

Her face is a blushing mess, all she can do is squirm in front of me and smile awkwardly. I came here for other purposes but damn it.. this pretty angel got me fucking hooked already. So petite, so innocent, a ray of sunshine, if I touch her with my destructive bloody hands I could probably defile her.

This thought gives me a sick twisted feeling in my chest, my eyes flaring in excitement.

“I-If you’d like I can invite you over for some tea? I can call my brother to come in the meantime. It’s only me and my mom here” she shyly says, breaking eye contact. I may be delusional, I am not the most handsome motherfucker out there I know, but she is acting like she saw her school crush. But I have to admit, I do have a sort of charm too. Call it villain charm if you will.

“Sure thing”. Making it easier for me princess, but also harder to focus on my main goal when you’re such beautiful distraction.

As my eyes wander around the living room, she hurries to the kitchen to prepare the tea. Enough time for me to find the lady in question. Her room was not hard to find, she was sitting on her bed. Simply entering and closing the door, I reach to her fast, putting a hand on her mouth.

“Don’t make a single sound or I will burn your sweet daughter to ashes” I threaten, showing her the blue flames flickering on my fingers. She nods, sweating and eyes widened in panic.

“Now..” I let her go while she stands there frozen in fear. “I’ll ask you some questions regarding to your son… and you’ll answer honestly. And trust me, I can tell when someone’s lying, so do not test me woman” I say sternly, all she does is whimper.

****

“Hey I thought you left?”

I find the pretty angel sitting on the couch, a confused look on her face.

“Ah m’sorry doll, had to use the bathroom. Also had a little chat with your mother, been a long time since I last saw her..”

It takes a lot for me to not burst into laughter, acting as if I’ve been Keigo’s childhood friend or something.

Keigo. Keigo Takami. This was his full name according to that woman. She didn’t hesitate to give me all the essential information, afraid I’d burn this place down and harm her precious daughter. Apparently that birdbrain’s been taken from the HSPC since a kid, trained to be a professional hero. And most importantly, his dad was a criminal, murdered someone back then.

Tch, the son of a criminal becoming a hero.

And the son of a hero becoming a criminal.

What a world.

I sit down on the couch, almost too close to his sister. My eyes hungrily take on the sight of her soft plush thighs, her chest, her plump lips.

“Tell me more about yourself dollface” I say, totally ignoring the tea and playing with some of her hair. “Y’gonna be a hero like your brother?”

“Ah none of the sort. I’d rather not get myself into heroic stuff” she giggles, and that sound has my jeans tighten uncomfortably. It’s taking everything in me to not pounce on her right here right now, stripping her off everything and making her scream for me. Just imagine the sight her brother would come across to if he suddenly shows up, her little sister all naked and bruised, used for my own sick pleasure..

Such an angelic being, I have the need to fucking break her and shape her however I see fit. A man like me could never be deserving of her.

“You don’t want to be a hero? How come? Wouldn’t you like to save people, princess? To fight against big scary villains who threaten the innocent out there..”

“I don’t think that’s a job for me. I can still help people without being a hero. And I don’t think I’d be strong or brave enough to go against villains, you know?” she says, playing with the hem of her shirt.

“Awn, poor thing, y’scared from villains?” I grin, placing my scarred hand on her knee, feeling her smooth skin. She squirms, probably by the warmth of it. The way she bites her lower lip nervously has my cock throbbing in my pants. Little does she know she’s in the presence of one of the most dangerous villains in Japan.

“Y’think they gonna hurt you? Maybe they will, if they see you so cute and vulnerable out there, they won’t hesitate to hunt ya down”. My firm grip on her knee has her swallowing, nodding silently.

“So I hope your brother protects you enough” I chuckle. “Cause see, if I was a villain? Man, I’d do anything to kidnap you and make you mine”

Her eyes widen, she laughs nervously, thinking this was some joke. Far from it.

“But you’re no villain right? You’re just my brother’s friend?” she murmurs, feeling tense. Her body language is so easy to read.

“Yes baby, I’m only his friend. My appearance might creep ya out but I promise I’m safe”

She seems to calm down a little. Completely unaware of what I could be capable of.

“Your appearance is not creepy by the way” she says. “I’d say it’s more.. unique. In a good way. I’ve never seen someone who looks like you”

I raise my eyebrows. Her words have me taken aback. For the longest time all I’ve gotten were stares filled with fear or disgust, couldn’t blame them. But this was a new thing, I feel something strange in my chest at her comment. Fuck, I don’t like this. I can’t seem to find any good comeback now, not when she’s staring at me so longingly. I’d rather have her scared, calling me an ugly monster, rather than this.

“Cute little thing wants to get on my good side huh? Wanna charm me, get me hooked with those sweet words? Y’need to be careful~” I say teasingly, reaching to grab her chin and have her look at me. I stare at her caramel eyes, wondering how they’d look full of tears.

“N-No it’s just the truth, I’m not lying” she shakes her head. “If I found you scary I wouldn’t have let you come inside”

“Come inside?” I raise an eyebrow. “Y’need to be more specific..or this might get another meaning”

She looks confused, not getting it at first, but the moment she sees the perverse smile on my face, her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that pervert! I meant come inside my house!”

I let out a laugh, probably the only genuine laugh I had after such a long time. God, she’s so cute and fun to mess with. Such gem that Hawks kept hidden from me. Well, not anymore.

After some time chatting with my angel, the door bursts open. I turn around, smirking at the familiar face.

“Look who decided to show up!” I stand up, opening my arms as if waiting to receive a hug from him. “The winged hero. I was looking for you. I had the pleasure of meeting your family, y’never told me you had a little sister? Such pretty thing you never mentioned her to anyone, I thought we were close friends Keigo..”

The expression on his face is entertaining, he looks beyond shocked. Probably didn’t expect for me to call him by his real name. Or when his sister comes after me, too close, a bright charming smile on her face.

“Welcome home! I invited Dabi inside to wait for you, couldn’t let him out in the pouring rain-”

“Y/N get back in your room. Now” The hero’s voice is stern, serious, and the poor girl’s smile fades off her face. His piercing gaze never leaving mine. I’m not intimidated at the slightest, it’s mostly amusing.

“But Kei-”

“Now” he repeats. As she prepares to turn around and leave, I reach to grab her hand, not letting her go.

“Very overprotective aren’t cha, big brother?” I smirk, bringing his sister closer to me, wrapping my hands around her waist. Hawks looks like he is ready to kill me, anger visible in his golden eyes now that I’m playing around with his little sister, probably his weakest spot that he tried to keep hidden from the world.

“Me and her already clicked. She’s very fun to have around, we chatted a lot when you weren’t here didn’t we angel?” I turn to her, all she does is blush and nod shyly. I tap my fingers around her small waist, making her squirm. It takes everything in me to not dig my fingers on that soft skin and leave bruises. Then I reach for her white wings, and apparently she is very sensitive there. The way those wings flutter and she tries to break free from my grip, whining for me to stop. And all of this in front of her brother.

“Very nice of you to treat my friend this way” Hawks says, seems like he already caught up what’s going on. He’s playing it cool, so I won’t hurt his family. “Dabi, could you come outside now? We have stuff to discuss.”

I do not protest further, there’ll be enough time to stay with my angel now that I already know where she lives and where she studies. My new little toy.

“See ya later, dollface” I pinch her cheek, before sliding my hand across her jawline. My thumb touching her lower lip slightly, and the softest gasp leaves her pretty mouth.

“Bye Dabi..” she whispers, almost hypnotised by my touch. My name rolling off her tongue is the sweetest melody my ears could ever hear.

Can’t wait to come back for you, sweetheart

Tags: @mostlyheinous @dabislittlebeaniebaby @shadowsandshapes @dabihawksluva @mossy-opal @daniidil @holydayaria @syrenkitsune @arinexeisnotworking @cherrykisssess @doumadono @spltbtch @sukunas-bitxh @awalkingshame @bubblegumsblog @highbats69

Blue-Flamed Forest

Witch!Dabi x Fem!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Fantasy AU, mentions of religion, medieval AU, witch hunts, restraints (NOT IN SPICY WAY), witch curses, witchcraft (duh)

Synopsis: You're accused of witchcraft after your hair inexplicably and suddenly greys. Sensing that you'll be the next victim in the church's witch hunt, you make a run for it. You barely escape the church's men when you step foot in the forbidden forest. You're grateful for their silly superstition until you realize that the forest is legitimately cursed, as a wall of blue flames materializes at the forest's edge every time you attempt to flee. With no other option, you trek deeper in the forest, hoping to find some other way out.

Author's note: I literally fell down a rabbit hole of medieval history to write this fic. Reader in this fic has silver hair, but it's a plot point. Awkward interpretation of Dabi since he's been alone for awhile. Spicy scenes in part two. I kind of got carried away with the world building/plot... Also go like @shoucolate 's Witch!Touya artwork if you haven't already!!! It's fucking beautiful.

Word Count: 6K

Heavily inspired by this art by the lovely @shoucolate

Masterlist

Link to AO3

Part One

You hear the galloping of the men’s horses echo through the valley. Your breath is becoming ragged and erratic as you desperately attempt to flee from your potential captors. It’s hard to hear what they are shouting over the sound of your breathing and the thrumming of your heart in your ears. Your options are to die or to run. Clearly, you chose the latter. 

You can hear the church’s henchmen gaining on you, evident by the horse’s hooves thumping against the grass. With what little stamina you have left, you sprint towards a tree line. You wager it’d be easier to lose them in the forest. You are right, just not in the way you intended. As soon as your body crosses the threshold of the forest, you glance behind yourself. The church’s men yank abruptly on their horse’s reins, rearing them back. There’s a look of horror in their eyes. They dare not near the forest. One of the men looked with uncertainty to who you could only assume was the leader given his comparably adorned horse and garb, along with his domineering aura. The leader can sense his underlings' unspoken request for direction. 

“We retreat and report back to the clergy. No use chasing after her, she belongs to the witch’s forest now,” he commands, stating the last sentence with an air of derisiveness. With that, the men steer their horses away from you, leaving you alone in the tree line. 

Now safe from potential captors, you lean against the bark of a nearby tree to catch your breath. It feels incredibly relieving to rest your weary body and know that the men likely won’t find you anytime soon. After a few moments, your breathing stabilizes and your adrenaline starts to diminish. Upon calming down, your eyes pick up on how the tree bark is partially singed. Large swaths of the bark are blackened to charcoal. You notice that the nearby trees on the edge of the forest were also damaged by flames. It was as if a fire had only danced upon the forest edge. 

How strange. However, you have bigger worries than this natural mystery. With the men no longer on your tail, you could continue fleeing from the church’s influence. All you had to do was figure out where you were and go from there. It’d be best to exit the forest now. Still, there’s a gnawing worry eating away at you. What was in this forest that even those brutes do not dare to encounter? You begin walking out of the forest and toward the hillside. Before you’re able to cross the threshold, a wave of intense heat blasts you back. A wall of blue flames appears between the forest and the hills. Your lungs protest the inhalation of smoke, leaving you sputtering and coughing. You feel the heat still clinging to your skirt, evident by the singed color along the hem. Although your clothes have been touched by flames, by some miracle, your skin is left unscathed. You really are lucky today. 

But despite the temporary blessings, you are still hopelessly trapped. If you couldn’t figure out a way past the fire, you truly would belong to the forest. Maybe your best bet would be to traverse deeper in. Surely this wall of fire couldn’t have surrounded the entire forest, right? You reason there had to be a weak spot somewhere along the barrier. Besides, you had already eaten through your rations. Another priority is to find food. 

You begin trekking further into the woods, investigating bushes you passed for berries and scanning foliage for fruit. So far, the forest seems barren. The lack of birds chirping makes you question if there were even animals around, that is, until you hear movement from one of the bushes. You tense. Your brain keeps recalling what the men on horses said about this belonging to a witch. Could there be something demonic lurking within that bush? Part of you feels ridiculous for falling prey to superstition, for believing even for a moment that this forest could harbor supernatural creatures and immense danger. 

Out of the rustling bushes emerges a black creature. To your relief, it is nothing more than a black cat. A well-cared-for black cat, at that. The feline has glowing blue eyes, reminding you of the blue-hued flames that surround the forest. Its long coat is remarkably shiny and fluffy. It sniffs the air in your direction as it stares you down. 

“Hello pretty, what’re you doing in a place like this?” You coo at the creature. The cat tilts its head at your voice. The church had instilled many false ideas that all cats were the offspring of the devil and attempted to enact doctrines to restrict felines from the city limits. You never believed such ideas, however, and you held nothing but fondness for the animals, despite not being able to see them often. Slowly, you offer your hand to the cat to allow it to smell you. The cat cautiously creeps closer. Something catches the cat’s attention, as it suddenly becomes alert. Its ears twitch and focus on some sound, yet you hear nothing. As if hypnotized, the cat begins walking away from you and deeper into the forest. Before it gets too far, the cat looks over its shoulder at you and stops, meowing at you. It wants you to follow. 

You oblige the feline, curious as to where it is seemingly leading you. The two of you wander through faint trails and hop over bubbling brooks. It seems you are wandering aimlessly until the little creature leads you to a clearing within the forest. The clearing consists of mostly open and raised meadowland but housed a singular, aged tree in the center. The cat hops through the thick grass and tall daisies, something you find endlessly entertaining. It’s cute to see the black cat’s head bobbing amongst the flora. You follow the feline up the hill, thinking that perhaps if you climb the tree, you could get a better view of the surroundings. Maybe you’d even be able to see an opening from there. When you climb up the sloping hill and arrive before the tree, you are able to see low-hanging fruit on its branches. You beam to yourself that luck was on your side. This tree is killing two birds with one stone. With no reason to hesitate, you grip onto a low branch and hoist yourself up. The feline loudly yells at you from the base of the tree, tail swishing in agitation. 

“Stay there kitty, you’re too cute to get stuck up here,” you warn the cat. The feline narrows its eyes in response but does not vocalize again. You shift your focus to climbing the branch. Your target is one of the lowest-hanging fruits, dangling close to the edge of the branch. The tree was so old that even its lowest branches were thick and sturdy. It isn’t too nerve-wracking to shimmy toward the end of the limb and pluck the fruit from the branch. You climb back down to safety and rejoin your feline friend at the base of the tree. 

You take a moment to further inspect the fruit. It doesn’t look like the native plants of the area. You had seen something like it once when you caught a glimpse of a traveling merchant peddling exotic goods. The fruit back then was colored like red wine and filled with seeds, remarkably similar to the fruit you held in your hands. You unsheath your knife from its gartered holster on your leg, using it to cut a slice into the fruit. A couple of red seeds fell into your lap, but with no one around, you care little for eating etiquette. 

With just a few bites, you start feeling satiated, but strange. It’s becoming harder and harder to move your body. Your fingers are already not responding. The world around you seems to blend into one haze. Sleep quickly begins engulfing your entire being. Everything is black, but you hear the distant voice of an unfamiliar man.

You begin to slowly regain consciousness, struggling to shake off the remaining dregs of drowsiness. Your mind feels hazy. It’s hard to remember how you fell asleep or where you were. You open your eyes, blinking a few times to clear the blurry vision. When you try to wipe your eyes, you realize your hands won't move. Your wrists are bound behind you. The blurry vision slowly starts to subside and you take in your surroundings. You’re in the center of a strange room, the shelves mounted in the wall displaying odd items; weathered books with spines in languages you cannot understand, flasks filled with potions of varying colors, glittering crystals shining in the rays of sunlight, and jars of dried herbs. The last thing you remembered was eating that fruit from the lone tree in the clearing, but now you’re in someone’s home? What is going on? Panic started to arise within you, especially when you hear the sound of boots coming closer to you. 

“I see you’ve awoken already. You have impressive tolerance,” the man muses. His voice grows closer and closer before he shows himself in front of you. “No matter, you’re not going anywhere anyways.”

He has an unusual appearance. His neck and arms are decorated in thin scrawls of purple ink, each line arranged in symbols you’ve never seen before, letters in a language you do not understand. The ink travels from his neck and onto his jawline before lines of strange lettering connect with his eyes. Even his under eyes are lettered. You’d shudder at the idea of tattooing such a delicate area if you didn’t have bigger concerns. He’s crouched in front of you, gripping your chin, with his painted black nails pressing crescents into your skin. His glowing electric blue eyes study you. He hums in interest before gently lifting a lock of your hair in between his thumb and forefinger of his opposite hand. The juxtaposition between the gentle gesture and the tight grip on your jaw has you uneasy. 

“What an unusual hair color for a human so young,” he comments. You whisper a timid ‘yes’ in response, unsure of what else to say. You know it’s odd. You know it’s unnatural how your once h/c strands changed to silver. But you don’t have any explanations for it, it just happened suddenly. The drastic change in your hair is what drew the attention of the church to you. He seemed to study the strand thoughtfully before a dark look flashed on his face. “So unusual it makes me wonder if you even are human.” 

You’re instantly taken aback. “What are you even saying? Of course I’m human,” you defend. You desperately felt as if you had to prove your humanity to this stranger. If he were accusing you as a witch, that could mean grave consequences. Burning at a stake or being sunken to the bottom of a well were just some of the dark fates for those accused of witchcraft. You nervously chuckle, “What else is there to be? Witches and demons are just tales.” 

The man looks at you, a bit stunned, before genuinely laughing. He releases his hand from your jaw and stands up straight. You wonder in slight horror how this could be entertaining to him. He chuckles a bit more as you stay silent, before giving you a taunting grin. “You poor, innocent fool. What do you think I am?” 

“No, that can’t be. You’re lying!” you accuse. How repulsive it was to you, for him to even insinuate such a thing! Really, he must take you for an idiot if he expects you to believe such a tale. The strange white-haired gives you an ominous grin and lifts a hand. You can barely hear him whisper foreign words and your eyes catch a few of the purple runes adorning his body begin to glow. A wisp of blue flame dances in the palm of his hand. 

“This change your mind?” He inquires. You’re taken aback, still reeling in shock from what you’ve seen. It’s hard to believe it’s true, but it’s even harder to deny what just happened was outside of human ability. He conjured flames with nothing, even handled such heat in his bare hands. You never really believed the church’s claims of witches lying in plain sight, but you can’t help but think back on what you’ve been told about witches. It scares you a bit to be faced with what appears to be one, based on the tales the church had told. 

“What will you do with me?” You ask, your voice unsteady with fear. You’re holding onto your breath, preparing for words depicting your cruel fate, to admonish you for being so foolish as to step into a witch’s forest. Only, the words never come. He merely hums in deep thought. 

“If you are really telling the truth, then nothing,” he answers, cryptically. You hear him whisper out an incantation under his breath again. With a snap of his fingers, a blue flame burns away your bindings, leaving nothing behind but ash and the sensation of warmth on your skin. You rub your wrists, thankful to be released, but a bit confused. The temperature of his flames is scalding, you had seen as much along the forest’s edge, and yet, you remain unscathed. Something is awry.

He turns to walk away, before glancing at you from over his shoulder. “There’s an extra room down the hall. You may stay there for now. Follow me.” You can’t help but display your confusion on your face. The white-haired man gives you whiplash from all the switches in his demeanor. First, he was cold and accusatory, and now he’s being accommodating? Why did he go through the trouble of restraining you, only to later allow you to stay in his home? Was he merely testing you? If that’s the case, is he still testing you? 

He leads you out of the room and you follow. Silence settles between the two of you while you contemplate your situation. You never arrive at answers, only finding ways to generate even more questions. Nothing makes sense anymore, but you suppose a confusing life is better than being dead. For now, you’ll just have to see where this strange situation takes you.

The two of you make the short walk to the room in question. He opens the door, revealing a modestly sized room. “This room is mostly used for storage, but it should suffice,” he explains. You glance around the room and see what he means. There’s a wooden wardrobe tucked in the corner and chests lining the wall, presumably filled with his various possessions. He turns on his heel to leave you to the room, but stops at the doorway, looking over his shoulder to add, “I think you already know this, but just to be clear, it’d be unwise to fight me. I’m not your enemy, but I can be,” he warns. 

You nod in understanding, seemingly satisfying him enough to leave you be. The room is now incredibly quiet, leaving you with some time to reflect on everything that just happened. You were accused of witchcraft, abandoned your job, fleed from the church, accidentally entered a cursed forest, ate a fruit that knocked you out, woke up in another person’s house, discovered that witches are in fact real, and are now staying in a witch’s guest bedroom. You’re alive and unharmed, but still a bit unnerved by the witch’s initial actions. To say this has been a wild day would be an understatement. A wild day that is, thankfully, coming to a close. 

The light inside the room begins to dim as the sun sets. You find yourself growing weary, desiring to prepare for bed. Only, you realize you don’t have any of your belongings, and therefore, no nightclothes. The witch must have taken your cloth bag as a precaution against you harming him. Since your reflection, you realize it was likely he initially saw you as a threat, and as such, thought to ensure you wouldn’t use something in your pack to harm him. Maybe you could explain this and ask for it back? 

Deciding it’s worth the attempt, you pad down the halls in search of him. You notice how all the candles in his home are lit with his blue fire. Clearly, this was a trademark of his. You search around his home until you notice the door to what you assume is his study is ajar, with glowing blue light illuminating the room. Given how brightly lit the room is, you wager he’s in there.

 You’re about to announce yourself and walk into his office when you hear him already speaking. There is no one in his home but you, who would he be speaking to? Your curiosity gets the best of you and you hover closer, peering through the ajar door. The witch sits in front of a table, with many books opened and littering his desk. His black cat, the one you saw earlier before your impromptu slumber, hops up on the desk and interrupts his readings. 

“You were much too trusting with that silver-haired stranger, Coal,” you overheard the witch whisper to his cat, the same fluffy feline that accompanied you through the forest. Despite chastising him, the witch was speaking to his pet with gentleness. The thought of this scary witch acting so tenderly to his animals put a small smile on your face. Perhaps witches were not all cruel as the church led others to believe. 

His cat protested with a loud meow in response, to which the witch replied, “That doesn’t matter, had it been another witch, you could have been hurt.” It was as if he could understand his pet. He shoos his feline off of the desk, and says, “Now leave me be, I have to figure this out.”

The witch seems rather stressed as he pours over his texts. You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating. You decide against disturbing him, not wanting to add to his stress for your own sake. Besides, he said that the room was once for storage, perhaps there are some clothes you may wear in there. You quietly leave from your spot in the hallway and make your way to the room. The first place you look is the wardrobe and to your delight, you find it filled with clothes. However, as you search through, you take notice of how high quality all of the clothes are. It’s bizarre, you think, for a witch in the woods to have clothes made from fine silks, velvets, and cotton. Nonetheless, you keep looking through, hoping to find something suitable for nightwear, only to stumble across an article of clothing that takes you by surprise. 

In the closet, tucked and stashed far out of sight, hangs a remarkable cloak, unlike any you’ve ever seen before. On the rare occasions a noble requested your seamstress services, their clothing felt nowhere near this luxurious and wasn’t made of such rare materials. The craftsmanship is truly impeccable, far beyond what even the wealthiest of nobles would wear. Thick white fur embellishes the opening of the cloak, joining with the deep blue velvet that makes up the rest of the garment. Its lavishness clearly suited for royalty. Your fingers trace the fabric, until making contact with a metal clasp. You gently push aside the folds of velvet, allowing you to inspect the buckle. It appears to be a coat of arms, one that you’ve never seen before. Although you’re unsure of what family the crest belonged to, there are two things you were certain of; one, the clasp was made of high-quality silver, and two, this cloak once belonged to a very distinguished family. But where most crests included a lion or horned horse, this one depicted a phoenix. You abruptly retract your hand from the cloth upon remembering a particular tale. 

You remembered hearing stories of a long-lost prosperous kingdom, ruled by a red-haired fiery tyrant. This kingdom from long ago was notorious for its power, always leaving behind desecrated battlefields that proudly displayed a phoenix flag, the nation’s symbol. The ruler, King Enji, was known for his cold demeanor and the strength of his knights. Despite his rumored cruelty, the kingdom prospered nonetheless. You always found it ironic, how the nation symbolized by a phoenix fell apart after a fire, unable to rise out of its own ashes. Almost nothing remained of the once glorious kingdom, save for rumors and legends. A devastating fire destroyed all traces of the castle, taking the life of King Enji with it. Legends diverge from that point on, with some reporting that two of his sons perished. Other variations depict the youngest son surviving while the eldest lived, and vice versa. 

There was always one particular iteration of the legend that stood out to you the most, never failing to elicit a chill down your spine. This cursed legend claimed that the fire was no ordinary one, rather, it was magical in origin. The flames that leveled King Enji’s castle to ashes burned an unearthly blue hue and reached temperatures far beyond that of human blacksmith forges. Elders that whispered this tale claimed the forsaken, eldest prince wielded such flames and cursed the family in retaliation for his exile. The eldest prince was said to be physically frail, a trait that King Enji believed tarnished the family name, and as such, was sent away from the castle. His claim to the throne was given to the youngest, most favored son.

On the fateful day of the fire, the eldest prince returned to the castle. Over the course of the Prince’s lonely exile, drastic changes had occurred in his body, for his once vibrant, red hair grew stark white. What’s more, he gained the ability to wield magic, manifesting in the manipulation of blue flames. It was implied that the eldest prince became a witch, or, was born one all along. Whatever the case was, his apparent state horrified King Enji. Before the king could order the guards to execute his son, the prince enacted his revenge, burning his father to death, alongside the castle. The elders said the prince escaped and warned that he may still be roaming the land, to this day. You had figured this version of the story served to scare curious youths from wandering past the city’s limits, claiming that their carelessness would end in their demise at the hands of the white-haired witch. 

You’re not sure what any of this means. Why did this witch have a cloak that appears to have belonged to the royalty of the fabled kingdom? Better yet, whose cloak was it? Judging by what you’ve heard of the King with his hulking figure and immense wealth, it certainly couldn’t have belonged to him. The cloak was much too small and not lavish enough for a king. No, it must have belonged to one of the princes. But, which one? 

The questions you have only result in grim answers. Thievery or murder would be the only ways the witch could have obtained a prince’s clothes. You’re starting to think it’s time for you to make your leave. Given the witch’s blue flames and the stashed away cloak, you fear he may have killed the Prince and stolen his goods. He said he didn’t know what to do with you, but you don’t want to wait for him to decide your fate. Should you linger, a dark fate may await you. Perhaps you should inquire about how to leave, pretend you’ll stay longer, and then slip unnoticed in the dead of night. It sounded as good a plan as any, and with nothing else to lose, maybe it’ll work out for you. You decide to bring up the matter in the morning. With that decision made, you strip down to your chemise and retire to bed.

Your sleep could only be described as fitful, at best. Endless tossing and turning kept you awake, mind racing with questions and imagining grim scenarios. You awake to the morning sun, feeling poorly rested. The light shining through the windows only brings you anxiety, reminding you that the time for confrontation is nearing. When you hear stirring in other regions of the house, you don your clothes for the day and with great trepidation, exit the room. You find him in his kitchen, joined by his loyal black cat, preparing food. He momentarily acknowledges your presence with a passing glance, before looking away. 

“I do appreciate the, um, hospitality, but I do wonder, how would I leave here when it is time?” You ask, breaking the silence. He abruptly stops trimming the vegetables, putting down the knife and looking at you with a serious expression.

“You know you cannot leave here, right?” 

“But why not?” 

“Judging by your singed clothes and boots, you saw the flames, no?”

“Well yes, but… if you control fire, then can’t you will the flames away?”

“It is a curse, one of many I placed in this forest,” he explains, assuming that would be explanation enough. 

“If it is a curse, why can’t you just break it?” You debate. He responds with a sigh of exasperation. 

“You don’t understand. The curse prevents all who enter from leaving, so others can’t find me and destroy my forest. That fruit you ate was also cursed, it puts humans into an eternal sleep with just one bite,” he explains. Your hope dwindles with every word. “No one else has ever survived either my flames or eating that fruit. Do you understand what that means?” You shake your head.

“You are not human. I don’t quite know what you are, but it seems you haven’t the faintest clue either,” he iterates with certainty. “Which means even if I wanted to break the curse, you’d only leave to later end up hunted.” 

You feel tears prick at your lash line, threatening to overflow at any moment. The church was right. You are a monster. Your lower lip trembles at the revelation. Everything seems to come crashing down all at once; the sadness you felt abandoning your shop, the fear you experienced while running from the church, the confusion you feel in the witch’s presence, all of it unloading from your soul and out of your eyes. The tears freely fall, much to the witch’s surprise. 

“I… realize I’m not the nicest guy and staying here with me is unpleasant, but, I hate seeing you cry,” he says, softly and somberly. He’s trying to apologize, in his own way. His hand gingerly brushes away the tears from your cheek, an act of softness you’ve not yet seen from him. He speaks again, attempting to reassure you, “Nothing bad will happen to you. This is the safest place for you now.”

Your lip still quivers. A bitter thought crosses your mind, and you can’t help but wonder if he’s truly being genuine with you. You wonder if the former prince was led to believe the same and if the witch used that false sense of security to cut him down then. Your voice is wobbly as you accuse, “Do you tell the others who have wandered in the same thing?” 

Immediately, he retracts his hand from your face, as if he had been burned by your words. The walls he had placed come back up, as his voice is much colder when he responds to you. “What do you mean?”

“You have the possessions of dead men in your home,” you assert. 

“What are you referring to?” He eyes you with caution, guarded against your next allegation. 

“The cloak, in the closet. It belonged to a royal prince, did it not? Given he’s not around, I wager he’s not alive.” He sighs at your accusation and runs his hands through his hair out of stress.

“I suppose there’s no point in hiding it now,” He reasons aloud. You swallow thickly, nervous at his next admission. “It’s true that the unlucky souls who have wandered in my forest and eaten that cursed fruit have died, and it’s true I may have… helped myself to their things. But, that is not the original purpose of the tree.”

“So do tell, what is the purpose then?”

“The curse is too strong for normal humans, but for witches, it’s a mild sedative. Due to my past, I have… difficulty sleeping,” he admits. “Besides, that cloak does not belong to a dead prince, it was once mine.”

“You were a prince?” You ask, incredulously.

“Yes, I was King Enji’s son,” he clarifies. 

“So the tales are true, the Todoroki Dynasty really did exist,” you whisper in awe. He lets out a light-hearted and soft chuckle, clearly amused by your amazement.

“And you were unsure before?” He teases.

“All that remains of the kingdom are tales. Many do not believe in such legends,” you explain. 

“I suppose it is the nature of humans, to forget such distant things. It has been a long time,” he muses. “But to answer your question, yes, the kingdom did exist. It seems my father’s legacy died with him, on the day I burned him.” The gears start turning in your head. 

“So, does this mean you were the eldest prince? Prince Touya?”

“You are correct,” he answers. One legend said that the King’s murderer was the eldest prince, it seems that one rang true. “Though considering there’s no longer a kingdom I belong to, wouldn’t it be more fitting for you to just call me Touya?” 

“R-right, I suppose that is true,” you agree. It feels a bit intimate to call him by his first name, without any titles, especially considering you now know of his lineage. Despite that, it’s nice to finally know his name. However, there was a nagging question in your mind. “But wait, if you are the Prince then why do you look so…” 

“So strange?” He says, attempting to finish your sentence. You can only imagine he’s referring to his tattoos and snow-white hair. 

“Young. Why do you look so young?” You clarify, “Your kingdom existed long ago, yet you look to be in your twenties. Why is that?” 

“Witches live a long time,” he reveals. “I’ve lost count of the years.”

“I see…” you trail off, absorbing all the information. 

“Is that everything you wanted to ask?” He questions. You nod in response. “And do you still wish to leave?”

“I’m not sure anymore. I suppose staying here wouldn’t be terrible considering I have nothing left to go back to,” you answer, your voice taking on a wistful tone. You feel a bit safer here, knowing what you know now. There’s still this sense of melancholy, as you miss your old life. But alas, there is nothing to be done. You’ll just have to adapt to your current situation. 

Nearly a week has passed since that tense conversation, and you find yourself establishing a routine with Touya. You’ve taken on some light, daily duties of your own accord, just to keep your mind focused and prevent boredom. Not that you think you’d ever suffer from boredom with Touya’s strange antics. He appears to be serious in figuring out what you are. None of his methods are uncomfortable or unpleasant, just mildly entertaining or odd. For instance, he gave you a silver bracelet and told you to wear it, only to immediately and feverishly write something down in his journal. You took a peek and saw the words ‘definitely not a werewolf’ on the page. Truthfully, you weren’t sure whether you should be scared upon realizing werewolves existed, insulted from him even assuming you turned into a hairy beast upon full moons, or relieved that one less condition has been ruled out. Other than moments like that, your time with Touya hasn’t been unpleasant. Living with him felt natural, all else considered. Though, you were beginning to feel cabin-fever. 

Your desire to be outdoors is especially distracting today. Although you and Touya are still getting acquainted with one another, he’s able to discern that something is on your mind. He notices today that your gaze often lingers on the windows. In those moments, he steals plenty of glances at you, relishing in the opportunity to admire you. You’re pretty, he thinks. More gorgeous than the high nobles his father had proposed he marries. He remembers how, much to his father’s dismay, he was uninterested in them. You had a way about you that captures his full attention. If there’s anyone he has to live alongside in his cursed forest, he’s secretly glad it’s you. Your smile and insights deserve to be protected. He won’t let you live on the run like he once did. 

Whatever is on your mind, he wants to show that your arrangement is not only out of convenience, but also one of trust. He wants to help you sort out what’s bothering you, he’s just not sure how. Maybe a bit of fresh air would do you some good? 

“Come with me,” he says, interrupting your trance. You peel your eyes away from the window to look at him. “If you are to stay here, you should become familiar with the forest. I’ll show you.” He offers you his tattooed hand, to which you hesitantly take. Touya leads you outside of the house. After taking a good few steps, you glance over your shoulder so that you may fully see the house and your surroundings, only to see the house is gone. No trace of it remains, as if it vanished in thin air.

“Huh? Where did it go?” He chuckles at your bewilderment. It’s endearing to him how you do not yet understand magic. 

“It’s still there, just hidden with a spell,” he assures through a smile. You tilt your head in confusion, wondering why such a thing is necessary. He seems to pick up on this, and explains, “I don’t usually like ‘visitors’ barging into my home.” You understand the reasoning. If you hadn’t eaten that fruit and instead wandered around the forest, you’re certain you’d barge into his house demanding answers. You suppose you can’t blame him, as you’ve discussed how he was treated by others prior to him settling in the woods. 

He guides you along, helping you by the hand over particularly rough terrain or over slippery creek stones. You nearly stumble into him, at times, but he’s ever patient with you. Though, that’s not to say he doesn’t tease you about it. The encounters make you flush, both out of embarrassment and from being so close to him. You’re never left to dwell on it for long, as he strings you along from place to place, pointing out things he deems important. He’s in the middle of guiding you to the next point of interest when you stop in your tracks. 

Your ears pick up on some rustling in the bushes. The sound makes you halt, bringing the attention of Touya. You tug on his sleeve and gesture to the brush. “Should we be concerned?” You ask. He shakes his head. 

“It’s probably some sort of animal,” he reasons. “It’s not all barren here, animals do occasionally wander in, after all.”

On cue, a scraggly-looking cat pushes through the shrubbery. Its fur is flying every which way, with little leaves nestled into tufts of fur. You feel pity towards the feline and release your grip on Touya’s sleeve to approach the animal. “Aw, poor thing. You look terrible,” you soothe. The cat’s tail swishes, almost in agitation. You turn to Touya, and plead, “Can I take her back with us? Look at how ragged she is, the poor thing needs some rest.” 

‘I’m not ragged! I’m just having a bad fur day from chasing after YOU this whole time. I mean really, you couldn’t have stayed in one place?’ The cat counters. 

You tilt your head in confusion. Surely you are mistaken, you must be hallucinating, there’s no other explanation. Cats cannot talk. And yet, here you are, questioning such a fact. Your mind tunes out all of Touya’s words as you focus on the scene unfolding.

‘Really? The silent treatment? After I come all this way, you don’t even speak to me? Some witch you are,’ the cat taunts. You turn your head to Touya, hoping to find him reacting to the cat’s words, only to find his expression incredibly neutral. 

“Can you not hear her?” You ask Touya, nervousness clear in your voice. Have you lost your mind?

“She’s just meowing. Why, do you hear something different?”

“Yes, she speaks,” you affirm. “You really cannot hear it?”

“This certainly explains things,” he states pensively. 

“Explains what? What does this mean?” You frantically ask him. 

“Relax. My darling, you are a witch,” he assures. “And this seems to be your familiar. Really, I should have guessed sooner.”

“But how did she find me?”

“They always do, familiars have a way about them, even I do not fully understand it,” he explains. There’s a nostalgic tone in his voice, clearly reminiscing on his own past. Your brows are still furrowed, lost in your thoughts and attempting to absorb the revelation. He seems to pick up on this and places his hand on your shoulder, reassuringly, and says, “It was long ago, but I once felt what you are feeling. It’s confusing at first, but I’m here, I can teach you. Your familiar will also help. You’re not alone in this.”

‘Can we skip the touchy-feely and get to the witchcraft already?’ The cat complains. You scoop the cat up and hold her in front of you. 

“We’ll start once you learn some manners,” you scold. Touya earnestly laughs. 

“Never a dull moment with you, is there?” He laughs. You pull your familiar closer to your chest, smoothing over her fur. You offer Touya a genuine smile and he smiles back. He can’t but admire you in this moment, with the sun hitting your face, looking legitimately happy. 

He’s glad to have met you.

Wear My Name - Dabi x Fem Reader

CW: NSFW, vaginal penetration, knife play, marking, blood, burning, condescension, masochism/sadism dynamics, degradation, pussy spanking, dirty talk, mild breeding kink, pet names, angry sex, Dabi being possessive, mild breath play, biting ----

The night out with your friends had been nice. Dancing in the club had been the perfect way to relax after a heavy workload. When you came home, your apartment was dark, empty, and silent. Well, you thought it was empty. It wasn’t until you saw the moon from the window catch the glint of a knife, balanced precariously between two fingers as the tip rested on the arm of a chair, that you realized you had company. The shine of the silver blade caused you breath to catch in your chest until you saw the same rays light up a familiar set of boots. “Dabi?” your voice shook with nerves. All you got was a hum of affirmation. The shuffle of clothes sounded as he stood, and there was a dull clicking as the knife disappeared into the darkness. You frowned and turned on the hallway light. “Dabi,” you hissed. “What are you doing just randomly sitting in the dark? And the hell? No text saying you were coming? A call? You’ve been gone for a month, you said it’d be a week at the most.” His eyes were chips of ice as they stared at you, so different than the usual heat they held. They roved over your dress, your body, your heels, and a sneer pulled at his mouth. “Were you worried, dollface? Is that why you went clubbin’?” his words were toxic, filled with accusation. What he was blaming you of? You honestly couldn’t be sure. There were traces of dark insinuation beneath his words, within his dulled eyes, and in that snarl twisting his face. “What do you mean Dabi? I’m not gonna stay home waiting for someone who rarely messages me for more than a booty call, even when he is in town,” you snorted with a roll of you eyes. “You are acting like you’re my boyfriend or some shit.” His eyes went from dull to burning in two seconds flat, a growl ripping forth from his throat as he stepped into your space. You backed up against the wall, palms flat against the plaster. “I may not use that fuckin’ childish label, doll. But you’re sure as hell mine,” his eyes narrowed, lips quirking into a dangerous smirk. You knew the response you were desperate to spit out was wrong. You knew you should swallow it down and let him fuck his anger out. You knew, god did you know. But you were so frustrated and so you let the words slip out without even hesitating. “I don’t see your claim on me, no ring, no nothing,” you scoffed, pushing off the wall only for him to shove you back against it. You hit it hard enough that all the oxygen punched out of your lungs. You gasped, your head ricocheting so hard that you saw stars for a moment. Then you felt the heavy weight of his hand around your neck, felt his teeth bite into the shell of your ear, and the warm metal of his piercing tracing the edge of your cartilage. “Should we fix that then?” Dabi’s voice was nothing more than a toe-curling whisper. You shouldn’t be affected by this, you should still be pissed, that beast of frustration should still have you tight in its grasp. However, all you could focus on was the slight pressure of his fingers on the sides of your neck, the heaviness of his palm against your throat, the drag of his scarred cheek and staples against your soft jaw, and you whimpered. Throaty and desperate as your thighs clenched and you worked your tongue silently. The breathy laugh you heard in your ear as his knee shoved it’s way between yours, made your face grow hot, “Oh baby girl, you are so desperate for my cock, aren’t ya? So desperate that when I just hint that you may get it… heh, you go fucking dumb.” The harsh grind of his jeans against your panties, his free hand having fisted your dress up around your waist, had you yelping and panting. His pupils were endless, swallowing the blue of his eyes until it seemed you would fall into the gaping black that was left. He bared his teeth in a dangerous smile and bit down on the thin skin of your jugular. “Nnng, careful,” you whimpered. “No marks, work.” You squirmed under his strong hold, feeling his fingers flex against your neck to keep your still and he bit harder, sucked with more aggression. “No marks,” he mocked, pitching his voice to an annoying tone while he dragged his lips across your bruised skin. “I don’t care, doll. Wasn’t it you sayin’ that I had to stake my claim?” You hissed as his teeth sank into your shoulder, and you felt the sting as they pierced your skin. Just you were about to squirm away his thigh ground up against your clit, his hand leaving your hip to graze your waist and ribs, then circle your nipple with such familiarity it had you swallowing hard under his hand. The pain wasn’t so bad anymore, the mix of delirious pleasure and throbbing ache from your shoulder pulling your mind apart easily. “Remember, I’m the only one who knows you like this, who can make you feel like this. You are mine, your body knows it, your soul knows it, now we just need the world and your mind to accept it,” his face was in front of yours again, with that twisted angry smile, only this time it was coated a light sheen of pink with your blood. God you hated that you craved him so desperately. You hated that Dabi was your drug in every sense of the word. That when he’d been gone you had slipped into the closest thing to withdrawals that you could have. You shivered under his hands, melting into him so perfectly, like he’d never left. Usually Dabi was rough, but never was he this furious with you. Yes, the two of you had fucked each other in anger, but this time, you knew he’d push too far. You also knew you’d take it without hesitating. You were not just hopelessly in love with him, you were addicted to him, and he was obsessed with you. “Please,” you whispered, brain heady and filled with cottony thoughts that you couldn’t form into words. “Please what, babe? Use those big girl words,” he pouted out his lips before grinning again, his tongue swiping over the crimson on his teeth. “I need--,” you gasped, floundering to finish because you weren’t really sure what you needed. Did you need him to take you, to fill you to the brim? Or was that just what you wanted? Did you need him to leave you alone and never come back? Or was that just what you wanted? Your brain was a swirling mass of confusion and you couldn’t find the answer no matter how hard you clawed at the tangled threads. “How about I help you, hm?” the hand around your throat slid up to cup your skull, his thumb tracing your jaw. You nodded, sparks alighting on your skin from the gentle caress. His eyes flashed, and the hand that had been tracing your breasts disappeared to between your thighs, slipping under your panties and swiping along your slit. You moaned, hips eagerly following his movements, bucking into his fingers even as they retreated, “Oh god, yes!” “Ah, there’s my little doll,” he snickered, eyes narrowing with cruel approval. “Now what do you need?” His head tilted, and he watched you critically. Your brain scrambled to keep up, eager to please him, your irritation a soft buzz in the fog of your mind, the memory of his fingers on your clit was all you could focus on. “Need you, need you to- to fuck me,” your head lolled, as you swallowed the drool pooling in your mouth. “Yeah? Is that what you need?” he said, his grin all harsh lines and sharp teeth. “What is it I need, though? What is it that you need to let me do to get you fucked, hm?” There was something different in his glare now, something brutal again, and you could tell in the haze of your mind, that Dabi was trying to control himself and he was failing. He was hungry for something from you. He was enraged… and was he scared? You couldn’t tell, too lost to the needs of your body. But there was an extra layer of emotion in his eyes that was rare, and you were unable to place it. “I don’t know, I don’t know,” you shook your head, sucking your lip. His teeth snapped together an inch away from your face, flecks of spit hitting your cheeks, his blue irises burning with frustration, “I need to make you mine, sweet cheeks.” You nodded, “Yours, yes, promise. Yours, I’ve always been yours, never not been.” You were delirious, and you both knew you would never babble such things under other circumstances. If you weren’t high on endorphins and sipping the nectar of lust, you would never be promising him your soul, even though you both also knew he already had it. He growled, as his teeth worked over the wound, he created earlier. Worrying it, making the clots open again, the bruise worse, and your mouth open on a gasp. “Oh god, please, just--,” your voice was high and pitchy as you canted your hips forward, trying to entice his fingers to dip lower over your puffy clit. “Please… please what? Use your words, slut,” he spat, his mouth releasing your pulsing flesh. You whined, your hips bucking harder against his hand, “Please, D-aaabi. I need you to touch me.” You were practically sobbing, your brain muddled and thirsting for more. When his calloused fingers slide over your slick clit it was enough to make you moan unabashed. Breath stuttering, catching in your throat, as your chest shuddered, and you felt an ache start while his finger traced light circles around you. He hissed in between his teeth, “Such a needy cunt, so sloppy for me already, so fuckin’ wet.” Each word was condescending, judging and yet pleased, like he was praising you for being his whore, and for the first time that night he pressed his warm lips to yours. You gasped into his mouth as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, coaxing you closer to the edge. His tongue took control, slipping against yours and the titanium adorning it seemed to leave a burning trail on everything it touched. His teeth sank into your lip and you felt a sharp pain again, the tease of his tongue sliding against it as he drew away. You could taste iron and knew he bit through your skin. You stared at him through blurry eyes, and he rolled his jaw, seeming to think for a moment even as his fingers continuously drew circles over you, pulling more moans from your throat. Slowly the tension in your body grew tighter, and you watched him through half-lidded eyes, the tip of his tongue caught in between his incisors as he pushed you closer and closer to your orgasm. “D-Dabi, so close,” you whispered, squirming against the plaster, you’re back shifting between straight and then bowed. “Yeah? Cum for me. Show me how desperate you are for my cock,” he growled, his free hand splaying next your head as he loomed in front of you, watching every micro expression. It wasn’t necessarily the command, but that coupled with the sinful need in his eyes had you humping into his fingers in seconds, falling apart and finding peace all at once. You were flying so high that you knees buckled and your eyes rolled until they ached. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” your words became indecipherable from the noisy gasps and moans that tore from your chest. You arced violently away from the surface behind you, feeling your muscles tremble and the sensation of his teeth snagging at the soft spot under your jaw. He chuckled, a mean sound in your ear as he dipped the first knuckle of two of his fingers into your fluttering pussy, humming in approval at the tight grip that greeted him. As you drifted back down, slipped into the bliss that was post orgasmic haze, you vaguely registered Dabi shifting your thighs around his waist and hauling you into his arms. Your head leaned onto his shoulder, bouncing lightly with each step he took down the hall. The next thing you knew, you were being tossed on the bed and there was the sound of rustling clothes and a clinking belt buckle. You forced your bleary gaze to focus, to see Dabi shucking his pants, to see him palm something in his hand and your eyes wandered over the piercings of his dick, the flush at the head, drool pooling in your mouth. Your tongue was heavy and mind clouded, but there was something you needed to convey, “Dabi?” It wasn’t what you wanted to say but it might get him to slow down. Might give you a moment to collect your thoughts and get your mouth functioning. “Shhh, doll. I’ll give you everythin’ you need. Everything you fuckin’ deserve, make you mine,” his eyes flashed with his words. You should have known something was wrong, that he was going to go somewhere the two of you had never even discussed. Yet, he was throwing his shirt to the side now, and your eyes were distracted by the glitter of his staples and the dual tones of his flesh. All you could do was whine in the back of your throat and he bared his teeth in a knowing smirk. Your thoughts were starting to clear, body starting to regain sensation again and you moved easier. He could see the awareness gleam in your eyes, and he knew he couldn’t let you slip into full consciousness yet. Dabi was quick to lean over you, rutting his dick in between your glistening folds, and the first bar of his Jacob’s ladder catching your clit just right to have you hissing in wonderful pain and pleasure. “There’s my little masochist,” he growled, gritting his teeth. You whined and shook your head, “No I’m not.” He laughed cruelly, “Sure.” You missed the way his hand discreetly slid under the pillow, instead distracted by his dick leaving you and taking away that delicious friction. Pulling a wanton whine from your throat. “Sure you ain’t? Sure, you don’ like this?” he delivered a light slap to your pussy, making sure the weight of his palm hit your clit. You squealed, feeling the more heat flush through your system and bucked your hips instinctively. “Yeah, looks like you absolutely hate it,” he sneered. Whimpering in embarrassment, or was it need, it broke into a throaty groan as you felt the blunt head of his dick press against your spasming hole. You gasped, clenching down, forcing him to push harder and hiss at the tension when he slowly started sliding inside. “You better fuckin’ relax, or this is gonna hurt like a bitch,” his eyes were fluttering, and neck muscles straining. He couldn’t go faster even if he wanted, and god knows he wanted. You were bearing down on him so hard he felt like his dick might snap in two. It was just on the pleasurable side of pain, and fuck if he wasn’t worried that he might blow his load as soon as he seated himself inside you completely. You were writhing, hiccupping shallow breaths into your burning lungs. Pushing at his chest weakly as tears stung at the corner of your eyes. “S-slow down Dabi, it hurts,” you begged. And when he bottomed out, he groaned, “Yeah, bet it fuckin’ does. But your takin’ me so damn well, I can’t stop. Feels so good, baby doll.” He scooped your thighs into his arms, folding you in upon yourself, and you looked up at him, at the flush across his cheek bones and the way his lower lip turned white from the pressure of his teeth. He never looked more beautiful. It made the ache in your trembling walls ease a bit, that is until he surged forward even more, touching a spot in you that caused your body to snap tight and sheer jolts of pain to shoot through your taught muscles. “Fuck! N-not there,” you rasped, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. He grinned harshly, panting as he dragged himself out of your clenching body, “Gotta make sure I breed you right. Sorry doll.” He sounded anything but apologetic though, and when he thrusted forward the wonderful pressure was almost enough to chase away the pain until he was flush against you, slamming into your cervix again. You screamed, white hot flashes of agony tightening you around him. He shuddered and moaned as he gripped onto you, watching tears spill down your cheeks. “You look so pretty like this, cryin’ while your split open on my cock, beggin’ me to stop. So perfect, how could you think…hng,” he trailed off into a guttural groan as his pace picked up. Your brain was melting into a mix of euphoria and complete aching anguish. Severe pain and rippling pleasure blended headily, leaving you panting and screaming until all you could do was open you mouth in a silent cry as you convulsed around him. He spat out a curse and slowly rolled into you, panting harshly, his hand patting around behind your head. While you drifted higher than you ever had before, swearing that your body was numb, he pulled back to tilt his head and look at you intently. “You know, I don’ think a ring is enough. Not to show everyone and you, that you’re mine. No… it's not permanent,” he said, and it was almost like he was saying it to himself, trying to convince himself of something. You blinked dully up at him, swallowing thickly, and squealing every time he pushed forward too hard, causing a dull throb in your pelvis. “I know how to fix it though, don’ worry doll,” he murmured, you saw him lift the knife and adrenaline began to spike through your system. Sluggish movements became a little more coordinated and you shook your head, “No!” You struggled, but were still weak, too easy for him to fend off and hold you down even as he barely rocked inside you dragging unwarranted moans from your throat. “It’s ok, it will only hurt for a moment,” he whispered, placing a tender kiss on your temple. “But this way we will always be together. Everyone will know you are MINE.” Blue flames licked along the metal, causing the steel to burn so hot it looked like platinum. He shuddered as the knife came down on the outside of your thigh, he murmured praises as you clenched around him, body jolting in his hold when it cut through your skin like paper. There wasn’t a sting, but the searing burns left from the heated metal caused your flesh to sizzle and made you gasp and shake. “Such a good girl… my girl,” he whispered, and you knew in that moment you’d pushed too far that night. The cut wasn’t too deep, but easily deep enough to scar, you slowly faded in and out of consciousness while he sliced his name into your skin. He only came because of you spasming around him from the pain, but in your mind, you were almost giddy. So blissed out from the orgasms, so lost to his nonsensical words. He was back, and he was yours. He was back, and you were his. What more could you ask for? ---- Check out my patreon here

Wear My Name- Dabi x Fem Reader

CW: NSFW, vaginal penetration, knife play, marking, blood, burning, condescension, masochism/sadism dynamics, degradation, pussy spanking, dirty talk, mild breeding kink, pet names, angry sex, Dabi being possessive, mild breath play, biting ---- The night out with your friends had been nice. Dancing in the club had been the perfect way to relax after a heavy workload. When you came home, your apartment was dark, empty, and silent. Well, you thought it was empty.

It wasn’t until you saw the moon from the window catch the glint of a knife, balanced precariously between two fingers as the tip rested on the arm of a chair, that you realized you had company. The shine of the silver blade caused you breath to catch in your chest until you saw the same rays light up a familiar set of boots.

“Dabi?” your voice shook with nerves.

All you got was a hum of affirmation. The shuffle of clothes sounded as he stood, and there was a dull clicking as the knife disappeared into the darkness. You frowned and turned on the hallway light.

“Dabi,” you hissed. “What are you doing just randomly sitting in the dark? And the hell? No text saying you were coming? A call? You’ve been gone for a month, you said it’d be a week at the most.”

His eyes were chips of ice as they stared at you, so different than the usual heat they held. They roved over your dress, your body, your heels, and a sneer pulled at his mouth.

“Were you worried, dollface? Is that why you went clubbin’?” his words were toxic, filled with accusation.

What he was blaming you of? You honestly couldn’t be sure. There were traces of dark insinuation beneath his words, within his dulled eyes, and in that snarl twisting his face.

“What do you mean Dabi? I’m not gonna stay home waiting for someone who rarely messages me for more than a booty call, even when he is in town,” you snorted with a roll of you eyes. “You are acting like you’re my boyfriend or some shit.”

His eyes went from dull to burning in two seconds flat, a growl ripping forth from his throat as he stepped into your space. You backed up against the wall, palms flat against the plaster.

“I may not use that fuckin’ childish label, doll. But you’re sure as hell mine,” his eyes narrowed, lips quirking into a dangerous smirk.

You knew the response you were desperate to spit out was wrong. You knew you should swallow it down and let him fuck his anger out. You knew, god did you know. But you were so frustrated and so you let the words slip out without even hesitating.

“I don’t see your claim on me, no ring, no nothing,” you scoffed, pushing off the wall only for him to shove you back against it.

You hit it hard enough that all the oxygen punched out of your lungs. You gasped, your head ricocheting so hard that you saw stars for a moment. Then you felt the heavy weight of his hand around your neck, felt his teeth bite into the shell of your ear, and the warm metal of his piercing tracing the edge of your cartilage.

“Should we fix that then?” Dabi’s voice was nothing more than a toe-curling whisper.

You shouldn’t be affected by this, you should still be pissed, that beast of frustration should still have you tight in its grasp. However, all you could focus on was the slight pressure of his fingers on the sides of your neck, the heaviness of his palm against your throat, the drag of his scarred cheek and staples against your soft jaw, and you whimpered. Throaty and desperate as your thighs clenched and you worked your tongue silently.

The breathy laugh you heard in your ear as his knee shoved it’s way between yours, made your face grow hot, “Oh baby girl, you are so desperate for my cock, aren’t ya? So desperate that when I just hint that you may get it… heh, you go fucking dumb.”

The harsh grind of his jeans against your panties, his free hand having fisted your dress up around your waist, had you yelping and panting. His pupils were endless, swallowing the blue of his eyes until it seemed you would fall into the gaping black that was left. He bared his teeth in a dangerous smile and bit down on the thin skin of your jugular.

“Nnng, careful,” you whimpered. “No marks, work.”

You squirmed under his strong hold, feeling his fingers flex against your neck to keep your still and he bit harder, sucked with more aggression.

“No marks,” he mocked, pitching his voice to an annoying tone while he dragged his lips across your bruised skin. “I don’t care, doll. Wasn’t it you sayin’ that I had to stake my claim?”

You hissed as his teeth sank into your shoulder, and you felt the sting as they pierced your skin. Just you were about to squirm away his thigh ground up against your clit, his hand leaving your hip to graze your waist and ribs, then circle your nipple with such familiarity it had you swallowing hard under his hand. The pain wasn’t so bad anymore, the mix of delirious pleasure and throbbing ache from your shoulder pulling your mind apart easily.

“Remember, I’m the only one who knows you like this, who can make you feel like this. You are mine, your body knows it, your soul knows it, now we just need the world and your mind to accept it,” his face was in front of yours again, with that twisted angry smile, only this time it was coated a light sheen of pink with your blood.

God you hated that you craved him so desperately. You hated that Dabi was your drug in every sense of the word. That when he’d been gone you had slipped into the closest thing to withdrawals that you could have. You shivered under his hands, melting into him so perfectly, like he’d never left.

Usually Dabi was rough, but he was never this furious with you. Yes, the two of you had fucked each other in anger, but this time, you knew he’d push too far. You also knew you’d take it without hesitating. You were not just hopelessly in love with him, you were addicted to him, and he was obsessed with you.

“Please,” you whispered, brain heady and filled with cottony thoughts that you couldn’t form into words.

“Please what, babe? Use those big girl words,” he pouted out his lips before grinning again, his tongue swiping over the crimson on his teeth.

“I need--,” you gasped, floundering to finish because you weren’t really sure what you needed.

Did you need him to take you, to fill you to the brim? Or was that just what you wanted? Did you need him to leave you alone and never come back? Or was that just what you wanted? Your brain was a swirling mass of confusion and you couldn’t find the answer no matter how hard you clawed at the tangled threads.

“How about I help you, hm?” the hand around your throat slid up to cup your skull, his thumb tracing your jaw.

You nodded, sparks alighting on your skin from the gentle caress. His eyes flashed, and the hand that had been tracing your breasts disappeared to between your thighs, slipping under your panties and swiping along your slit.

You moaned, hips eagerly following his movements, bucking into his fingers even as they retreated, “Oh god, yes!”

“Ah, there’s my little doll,” he snickered, eyes narrowing with cruel approval. “Now what do you need?”

His head tilted, and he watched you critically. Your brain scrambled to keep up, eager to please him, your irritation a soft buzz in the fog of your mind, the memory of his fingers on your clit was all you could focus on.

“Need you, need you to- to fuck me,” your head lolled, as you swallowed the drool pooling in your mouth.

“Yeah? Is that what you need?” he said, his grin all harsh lines and sharp teeth. “What is it I need, though? What is it that you need to let me do to get you fucked, hm?”

There was something different in his glare now, something brutal again, and you could tell in the haze of your mind, that Dabi was trying to control himself and he was failing. He was hungry for something from you. He was enraged… and was he scared? You couldn’t tell, too lost to the needs of your body. But there was an extra layer of emotion in his eyes that was rare, and you were unable to place it.

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” you shook your head, sucking your lip.

His teeth snapped together an inch away from your face, flecks of spit hitting your cheeks, his blue irises burning with frustration, “I need to make you mine, sweet cheeks.”

You nodded, “Yours, yes, promise. Yours, I’ve always been yours, never not been.”

You were delirious, and you both knew you would never babble such things under other circumstances. If you weren’t high on endorphins and sipping the nectar of lust, you would never be promising him your soul, even though you both also knew he already had it.

He growled, as his teeth worked over the wound, he created earlier. Worrying it, making the clots open again, the bruise worse, and your mouth open on a gasp.

“Oh god, please, just--,” your voice was high and pitchy as you canted your hips forward, trying to entice his fingers to dip lower over your puffy clit.

“Please… please what? Use your words, slut,” he spat, his mouth releasing your pulsing flesh.

You whined, your hips bucking harder against his hand, “Please, D-aaabi. I need you to touch me.”

You were practically sobbing, your brain muddled and thirsting for more. When his calloused fingers slide over your slick clit it was enough to make you moan unabashed. Breath stuttering, catching in your throat, as your chest shuddered, and you felt an ache start while his finger traced light circles around you.

He hissed in between his teeth, “Such a needy cunt, so sloppy for me already, so fuckin’ wet.”

Each word was condescending, judging and yet pleased, like he was praising you for being his whore, and for the first time that night he pressed his warm lips to yours. You gasped into his mouth as his fingers pressed harder against your clit, coaxing you closer to the edge. His tongue took control, slipping against yours and the titanium adorning it seemed to leave a burning trail on everything it touched.

His teeth sank into your lip and you felt a sharp pain again, the tease of his tongue sliding against it as he drew away. You could taste iron and knew he bit through your skin. You stared at him through blurry eyes, and he rolled his jaw, seeming to think for a moment even as his fingers continuously drew circles over you, pulling more moans from your throat.

Slowly the tension in your body grew tighter, and you watched him through half-lidded eyes, the tip of his tongue caught in between his incisors as he pushed you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“D-Dabi, so close,” you whispered, squirming against the plaster, you’re back shifting between straight and then bowed.

“Yeah? Cum for me. Show me how desperate you are for my cock,” he growled, his free hand splaying next your head as he loomed in front of you, watching every micro expression.

It wasn’t necessarily the command, but that coupled with the sinful need in his eyes had you humping into his fingers in seconds, falling apart and finding peace all at once. You were flying so high that you knees buckled and your eyes rolled until they ached.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” your words became indecipherable from the noisy gasps and moans that tore from your chest.

You arced violently away from the surface behind you, feeling your muscles tremble and the sensation of his teeth snagging at the soft spot under your jaw. He chuckled, a mean sound in your ear as he dipped the first knuckle of two of his fingers into your fluttering pussy, humming in approval at the tight grip that greeted him.

As you drifted back down, slipped into the bliss that was post orgasmic haze, you vaguely registered Dabi shifting your thighs around his waist and hauling you into his arms. Your head leaned onto his shoulder, bouncing lightly with each step he took down the hall.

The next thing you knew, you were being tossed on the bed and there was the sound of rustling clothes and a clinking belt buckle. You forced your bleary gaze to focus, to see Dabi shucking his pants, to see him palm something in his hand and your eyes wandered over the piercings of his dick, the flush at the head, drool pooling in your mouth.

Your tongue was heavy and mind clouded, but there was something you needed to convey, “Dabi?”

It wasn’t what you wanted to say but it might get him to slow down. Might give you a moment to collect your thoughts and get your mouth functioning.

“Shhh, doll. I’ll give you everythin’ you need. Everything you fuckin’ deserve, make you mine,” his eyes flashed with his words.

You should have known something was wrong, that he was going to go somewhere the two of you had never even discussed. Yet, he was throwing his shirt to the side now, and your eyes were distracted by the glitter of his staples and the dual tones of his flesh. All you could do was whine in the back of your throat and he bared his teeth in a knowing smirk.

Your thoughts were starting to clear, body starting to regain sensation again and you moved easier. He could see the awareness gleam in your eyes, and he knew he couldn’t let you slip into full consciousness yet.

Dabi was quick to lean over you, rutting his dick in between your glistening folds, and the first bar of his Jacob’s ladder catching your clit just right to have you hissing in wonderful pain and pleasure.

“There’s my little masochist,” he growled, gritting his teeth.

You whined and shook your head, “No I’m not.”

He laughed cruelly, “Sure.”

You missed the way his hand discreetly slid under the pillow, instead distracted by his dick leaving you and taking away that delicious friction. Pulling a wanton whine from your throat.

“Sure you ain’t? Sure, you don’ like this?” he delivered a light slap to your pussy, making sure the weight of his palm hit your clit.

You squealed, feeling the more heat flush through your system and bucked your hips instinctively.

“Yeah, looks like you absolutely hate it,” he sneered.

Whimpering in embarrassment, or was it need, it broke into a throaty groan as you felt the blunt head of his dick press against your spasming hole. You gasped, clenching down, forcing him to push harder and hiss at the tension when he slowly started sliding inside.

“You better fuckin’ relax, or this is gonna hurt like a bitch,” his eyes were fluttering, and neck muscles straining.

He couldn’t go faster even if he wanted, and god knows he wanted. You were bearing down on him so hard he felt like his dick might snap in two. It was just on the pleasurable side of pain, and fuck if he wasn’t worried that he might blow his load as soon as he seated himself inside you completely. You were writhing, hiccupping shallow breaths into your burning lungs. Pushing at his chest weakly as tears stung at the corner of your eyes.

“S-slow down Dabi, it hurts,” you begged.

And when he bottomed out, he groaned, “Yeah, bet it fuckin’ does. But your takin’ me so damn well, I can’t stop. Feels so good, baby doll.”

He scooped your thighs into his arms, folding you in upon yourself, and you looked up at him, at the flush across his cheek bones and the way his lower lip turned white from the pressure of his teeth. He never looked more beautiful. It made the ache in your trembling walls ease a bit, that is until he surged forward even more, touching a spot in you that caused your body to snap tight and sheer jolts of pain to shoot through your taught muscles.

“Fuck! N-not there,” you rasped, trying to wriggle out of his grasp.

He grinned harshly, panting as he dragged himself out of your clenching body, “Gotta make sure I breed you right. Sorry doll.”

He sounded anything but apologetic though, and when he thrusted forward the wonderful pressure was almost enough to chase away the pain until he was flush against you, slamming into your cervix again. You screamed, white hot flashes of agony tightening you around him. He shuddered and moaned as he gripped onto you, watching tears spill down your cheeks.

“You look so pretty like this, cryin’ while your split open on my cock, beggin’ me to stop. So perfect, how could you think…hng,” he trailed off into a guttural groan as his pace picked up.

Your brain was melting into a mix of euphoria and complete aching anguish. Severe pain and rippling pleasure blended headily, leaving you panting and screaming until all you could do was open you mouth in a silent cry as you convulsed around him.  

He spat out a curse and slowly rolled into you, panting harshly, his hand patting around behind your head. While you drifted higher than you ever had before, swearing that your body was numb, he pulled back to tilt his head and look at you intently.

“You know, I don’ think a ring is enough. Not to show everyone and you, that you’re mine. No… it's not permanent,” he said, and it was almost like he was saying it to himself, trying to convince himself of something.

You blinked dully up at him, swallowing thickly, and squealing every time he pushed forward too hard, causing a dull throb in your pelvis.

“I know how to fix it though, don’ worry doll,” he murmured, you saw him lift the knife and adrenaline began to spike through your system.

Sluggish movements became a little more coordinated and you shook your head, “No!”

You struggled, but were still weak, too easy for him to fend off and hold you down even as he barely rocked inside you dragging unwarranted moans from your throat.

“It’s ok, it will only hurt for a moment,” he whispered, placing a tender kiss on your temple. “But this way we will always be together. Everyone will know you are MINE.”

Blue flames licked along the metal, causing the steel to burn so hot it looked like platinum. He shuddered as the knife came down on the outside of your thigh, he murmured praises as you clenched around him, body jolting in his hold when it cut through your skin like paper.

There wasn’t a sting, but the searing burns left from the heated metal caused your flesh to sizzle and made you gasp and shake.

“Such a good girl… my girl,” he whispered, and you knew in that moment you’d pushed too far that night. The cut wasn’t too deep, but easily deep enough to scar, you slowly faded in and out of consciousness while he sliced his name into your skin. He only came because of you spasming around him from the pain, but in your mind, you were almost giddy. So blissed out from the orgasms, so lost to his nonsensical words. He was back, and he was yours. He was back, and you were his. What more could you ask for?

ughh i wanna put a bratty sub in his place so bad!! :((

i wanna make him think he’s got the upper hand until the last minute, to watch the look on his face when he realises that he’s been playing right into your hand the entire time; that every moment leading up to this was just a carefully calculated step in your plan. i want to see how he struggles to fight back once he does, how hard he tries to prove himself, not realising that if he was really the one in control, he wouldn’t need to prove it, would he? he’d just do it. yet here he is, scrambling for his place back in the driver’s seat that he was never truly in.

your giggles would interrupt him amidst his little speech, cutting off the empty bluffs and dirty promises that he could never even dream of keeping anyway; the way you’d chuckle behind a coy hand like you’ve got some little inside joke with yourself? it would make that fragile ego of his fucking quiver; make him feel confused and embarrassed and he would try to twist the situation back in his favour, of course he would, to try pretend he’s in on the inside joke... but the truth is he feels helpless. for the first time ever, it feels like he’s the one in the dark; he’s the clueless and defenseless one, the one who’s been caught in a trap he never saw coming.

but then again, how could he when you play the part of prey so well? when your innocent performance is so convincing — with your big glossy eyes and shyly averted gazes, your voice so sweet and unsuspecting, stumbling over filthy words like you’ve never even thought them before? what reason would someone like him have to fear a precious thing like you? he’s all chiselled muscle and tenacity, with the eyes of a wolf; you’re small compared to him, cute and soft and easy to overpower — and yet he still ends up beneath you because your presence alone harbours more power than he does in all those muscles he’s so proud of, and his resolve is weak as long as you know where he’s most sensitive and what words make him blush, and with enough patience and punishments, those wolf’s eyes will melt into a puppy’s every time.

and getting a man like him to submit — or better yet break — is no easy feat. he thought himself a dom before he met you and god, if there isn’t anything more rewarding, more wonderful than that; teaching him to bend to your will and seeing his inevitable downfall each and every time. no matter how many times or how far he goes to defy and provoke you, you both know that he will always return to his rightful place: beneath you and completely at your mercy.

EREN JAEGER, TOJI FUSHIGURO, TOUYA TODOROKI, MUZAN KIBUTSUJI, SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

DRABBLE: YOU'RE THE CUTEST BIMBO HE'S EVER SEEN (18+) (MHA) (for Fem!Readers)

Writer's Note: Idk...I like the bimbo shit. I might make a fic with a bimbo!reader one of these days. Btw, some of these drabbles are meant for chubby/plus-sized readers, but I'll just put that as a note. Enjoy! -Jazz

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PRO!HITOSHI - Note: Reader is Chubby 

When he sees you for the first time, he is as intrigued as he is rock-hard the very moment he sees you in your little pink thong bikini. 

He is down the shore with Denki after being forced to take a trip to get out of the sweltering, congested Tokyo heat for a while. Don’t get him wrong; a nice trip down the shore to get away from the villain activity and constant rush of the city is definitely a nice change of pace. But to walk around semi-naked people isn’t is idea of a relaxing vacation. It’s uncomfortable for him, walking around and seeing so many women with strings up their asses. 

“You just need some company,” Denki said when Shinso voiced his concerns to his friend. “This place is swimming with plenty of pretty babes for the choosing, ‘Toshi! Who wouldn’t want to spend some time with the top underground hero in Japan?” 

Though Denki's compliment works somewhat, Shinso isn’t concerned with meeting someone for a hookup. He isn’t even really interested in sex…until he meets you, at least. While Denki is busy trying to flirt with some girls standing by a hot dog stand, Shinso slinks away into a nearby trinket store. His eyes roam over the seashell fridge magnets and snow globes with the fake snow replaced with sand. He thinks about which gift would be good for Eri, his little sister, until his eyes land on you. 

There you stand a few feet away at a shelf of trinkets, standing on your tip toes with one of your chunky arms outstretched. You’re trying to reach for a pink seashell-shaped purse on the top shelf, and though you know damn well you can’t reach it, you still try. 

Shinso is no longer interested in checking out the store items now that he’s got a look at you. You’re the best thing in here, from your plump little frame to the pink clothes you wear…if you can even call them clothes. 

You’re really wearing just a mesh pink cover-up dress with a hot pink bikini underneath. The bikini top ties around your neck and back, exposing your rolls, while the bottoms are stuck in between your luscious, plump asscheeks that all Shinso wants to do is shove his face in. While he’s still uncomfortable seeing you in a thong, it's a different kind of discomfort now. He can feel his cock chub against his shorts, uncomfortably so. 

“Excuse me?” It takes him a moment to realize you’re talking to him because of how dazed he is from your ass. You’ve turned around to face him now, showing your front, and dear fuck, does he wish you wouldn’t have. He can now see how the bikini top barely covers your big, juicy breasts and how your tummy bulges slightly over the string waist of your thong. Your lips, kissable and soft, shin in pink, glittery gloss and your cute little fingernails and toenails are coated in pink paint. Everything about you is pink. 

He decides that the color fits you especially well when you open your mouth to speak again. “I'm so sorry,” you giggle sheepishly, giving him a smile that feels like a punch in the gut, “but could you help me reach that bag up there?” You point one chunky hand up towards the top shelf. “I’m just too short to reach.” 

Shinso blushes at the sound of your voice, so sweet and innocent-sounding. He wonders how you’d sound moaning his name with his cock buried deep inside of you. “Uh, sure,” he replies, his voice sounding dry and gravely. He can barely breathe. You excitedly clap your hands, thanking him profusely for his help. “I was so sure I’d end up tripping over these,” you giggle, pointing down at your pink sandal wedges. What a pretty princess, you are. 

“It’s whatever,” Shinso deadpans as he walks over to you. “Wouldn’t want nothin’ to happen to those shoes.” He glances down at them. “Steve Madden, huh?” he asks, loving it when you flush shyly at his observation. “I had some extra money,” you confess. “So I splurged. But they’re cute, right?!” 

‘So, so cute,’ he thinks, but he isn’t referring to the shoes one bit. When he steps beside you to reach for the bag, he catches a whiff of your body spray. It is sweet and delectable, like whipped cream or sugar. God, could you get any cuter? As if answering him, his cock throbs painfully in his shorts. He barely has to stand on his toes to reach the bag, causing you to cutely gasp at his height. “Wow!” you say, shocked. “You’re so tall! I’ve never met anyone as tall as you.” 

Shinso chuckles when he grabs the bag and holds it out to you. “Well, now you have. And you’re welcome…” He trails off, wishing you’d take a hint and spill the space in with your name. He watches as you gulp and stare up at him with those big, doe-like eyes as you take the bag from him. When you do, your fingers brush against his, sending an electric shock through him as if Denki just used his quirk on him. 

“T-Thank you,” you softly stutter. “And I’m Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, Mr…” You trail off too, cutely puckering your lips. “No Mr,” Shinso chuckles. “Just Shinso. Or Hitoshi. Whichever you want.” 

You tap one painted nail against your chin thoughtfully. “Hit-o-shi,” you carefully pronounce. Shinso has to suppress a groan at the sight of your soft lips forming his name.

“Can I call you ‘Toshi?” you ask, hope in your eyes. And something more. Mischief, it looks like. Hitoshi’s interest reaches its peak when he realizes that there is a whole other side to you than the cute, innocent persona he’s seeing right now. 

He copies your move and thoughtfully taps his finger against his chin, earning a sweet giggle from you. “Only if I can call you princess,” he replies smoothly. “And maybe buy you somethin’ to eat? I’ll admit that I’m not too familiar with the boardwalk though.” 

You look rather shy from the pet name, but you don’t let that stop you from conversing more with him. “Is it your first time here?” you ask, gasping when he nods. “Oh, you’re gonna have so much fun! They have the best funnel cakes and pizza here! I’ll tell you what, ‘Toshi: I’ll treat you to food for doing such a good deed and helping me get my bag. Deal?” 

You reach your hand out for him, peering up at him through your thick, doll-like lashes. All Shinso wants to do is fuck you silly while you look at him like that, but instead, he takes your hand, smirking at the way you bite your lip. “It’s a deal, princess,” he huskily says. 

SHIGIRAKI - There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing to people. There’s just no way! Do you know what you’re doing to him? 

These are the thoughts that run through Shiggy’s head when you step into the dimly-lit, crowded bar with Toga by your side. The two of you giggle to each other, looking like the best of friends in your little sundresses and tiny purses that hang off of your wrists. The only difference between you and Toma the combination of innocence and sexiness you seem to ooze. 

Toga had said she was inviting a friend of hers to the annual bar hop adventures she, Shiggy, and half of the LOV always have at this exact bar. Dabi knows the guy so they get drinks half off and the cops aren’t called despite them being out and about in the city. He sits with Dabi, Mr. Compress, and Twice (who won’t shut the fuck up) now, a whiskey in his hand that he knows he’s going to need when you finally come up to greet him. 

Shiggy was initially against Toga bringing a stranger into their activities. “What if she talks?” he hissed. “How can you be so sure she won’t blab to the police about us? How do you even know this girl?” Toga barely gave him a glance as she poured herself some juice in the kitchen in their lair. “She’s an old childhood friend of mine,” she explained. “And no, she’s not gonna talk because she hates cops and heroes. I promise you’ll love her! She’s got a wicked streak to her.” 

When he sees you, he can’t tell what about you is so ‘wicked’. You look like the cutest package of candy in your short, pink sundress that barely covers your ass or your tits that jiggle enticingly. He doesn’t even think you’re wearing a bra. You paired the dress with some pink heels, a charm bracelet, and two high pigtails that he envisions yanking on while his cock is buried deep in your– 

“Hey, guys!” Toga giggles when she finally makes it to the stools. Shiggy nearly jumps out of his skin, earning a low chuckle out of Dabi. “This is my friend, Y/N. The one from my childhood? I told you I was bringing her tonight, remember?” She gives you a toothy, excited grin, allowing you to introduce yourself further. 

“Nice to meet you all,” you say in your sugary, sweet voice that washes over Shiggy. “I hope I’m not interrupting your night out, but Toga insisted I meet you all.” Twice is the first one to make an impression, hopping out of his seat to greet you. “Not at all!” he brightly chirps. “I’m Twice, by the way. This here is Dabi, Spinner, and Shiggy.” 

Spinner gives you a nod while Dabi only glances and Shiggy glares at Twice. “Shigaraki,” he corrects his friend. Toga rolls her hazel eyes while you giggle to yourself. “Ignore him,” she sighs. "Come, sit right here with me! I’ll order us some drinks. Do you like those fruity ones?” 

Eagerly, you nod, making you even cuter. You then turn to him, your big eyes stopping him short of breathing. “Um…is this seat taken?” you ask, pointing one red-painted nail at the empty stool. To anyone else, he would’ve said something smart, but he can’t even muster words with how soft your lips look and the sweet smell of your perfume filling his senses. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ he thinks to himself. He’s never had any woman make him feel this way before. He thought these kinds of feelings were long gone. 

He nods, earning a blinding smile from you as you take a seat. As you do, the hem of your dress rides up, revealing a sliver of thigh that has Shiggy’s cock throbbing uncomfortably in his sweats. From his right side, Dabi leans in towards him. “You’d better snag that before someone else does, Shig,” he teasingly whispers. “That someone bein’ me.” 

Shiggy glances at his friend, irked at his attempt at pushing his buttons. He knows Dabi also has a thing for innocence; especially ruining it. He turns to you, already finding you looking at him. “You listen to Nine Inch Nails?” you ask, quiet excitement in your voice. Shiggy blinks, confused as to what you mean, until you point at his band shirt. “I like them too! Have you ever been to one of their shoes?” 

It takes Shiggy some time to process words, but he doesn’t keep you waiting or questioning yourself. “Uh, yeah,” he replies. “Two years ago. You listen to metal like that?” His eyes graze over your outfit and your body, picturing you without clothes. “‘Cause it doesn’t look like it.” 

You giggle, adorably scrunching you nose. “It doesn’t,” you agree, “but yeah! I’m into a lot of hard metal and rock, but not too much screamo. That doesn’t keep me out of Hot Topic though.” Shiggy smirks at your confession and nods down at his wrist. You look down, gasping at the spiked Hot Topic bracelet sitting there. “It’s like we’re one and the same,” you softly laugh, smiling at the bartender when he lowers your pretty, fruity drink down. 

Shiggy watches you sip your drink, your gloss stain on the glass rim making him want to cum all over your mouth. “Are we really?” he asks, but not unkindly. He is actually very curious and interested in you. What is it about you that Toga likes? 

He gets his answer when you turn to him, a mischievous, dark glint in your pretty eyes. Despite your cutesy appearance and pretty clothes, you now appear before him as someone else. Someone darker. “We could always find out,” you suggest, a slight purr in your voice. He doesn’t know if it’s an accident, but your knee slightly brushes his when you shift in your seat. 

Those words are all Shiggy needs. After one too many drinks and the whole “getting to know you” shit, you find yourself underneath him in his bed, your legs up by your ears and your pretty, pink dress on his bedroom floor. Shuddery moans and grunts leave his lips every time he drives his cock into you again and again, his hands wrapped around your ankles. “Tell me how it feels,” he growls. “Tell me, slutty girl.” 

You whine for him, your lipgloss smudged off of your lips and pretty breasts jiggling for him as he fucks you into the mattress. “It feels good!” you babble, your mascara smudged. “You feel so good, Shigaraki!” 

“Tomura,” he grunts down to you. “Call me Tomura.” Realization clears in your dazed eyes and your pretty face splits into a smile before he swoops down to swirl his tongue with yours in a wet, open-mouthed kiss. 

A sudden bang comes from above the wall above your head where the headboard bangs against it. “Could you two shut the fuck up?” Dabi yells. “I’m tryin’ to sleep off this whiskey.” 

“Yeah!” Toga agrees. “I brought my friend tonight to get to know you, Shiggy, but not like this! You’ll ruin her!” A light giggle leaves your lips as Shiggy continues to rock his hips into your wet, tight walls. You lean up, your sticky lips at his ear. “I’m already ruined,” you whisper. “Can you ruin me more, Tomura?” 

Shiggy didn’t need you to repeat. The entire night he spent ruining you over and over again, covering you in his cum until the dawn. Now he thinks you could be an extra good addition to the LOV crew. 

PRO!BAKUGOU - Note: Reader is Chubby

He could’ve blown his fucking load when Mina brings you along for mini golf one night. 

It’s just an ordinary summer evening where he and the squad are playing mini golf and slurping down milkshakes before you show up. Initially, Bakugou is irked waiting for you and Mina to show up, hating when people are late. “Where the fuck are these two?” he huffs. “They’d better not be doin’ their hair or somethin’ ‘cause I’m gonna be pissed if they are.” 

“You know how girls are, ‘Suki,” Kiri chuckles, watching Denki try to aim his ball at a hole surrounded by gnome and fairy statues. “Mina takes forever to do her makeup sometimes, but it’s all to look nice for us. I’d think her friend is doing the same thing.” 

As if on cue, Sero announces their arrival from his seat. “Look!” he exclaims, a chocolate milkshake in his hand. “They’re here! And damn, does her friend look good.” Each boy turns to look at you and they can all agree. Especially Bakugou. 

He can’t keep his eyes off of you as you strut up with Mina, arms hooked in one another’s. You’re wearing a low cut, white crop top with a push-up bra that make your breasts look immaculate and delicious and a tiny, pink tennis skirt that starts at the waistband of your pudgy stomach and stops right at the top of your thick, jiggly thighs. You paired this outfit with white Nike low tops and pink knee socks that make you look more innocent than the cute little smile on your face that gets wider the closer you get to him and the guys.

He can’t stop staring at you, especially when you get closer and he gets to drink in all of the other details to you––how short you are compared to him (you barely graze his chest!); the Fenty gloss on your plump lips; the tiny bow clip in your hair; the scent of fruit on your skin that makes him dizzy. 

Are you fucking forreal? How are you going to show up like that as if it’s normal? Are you trying to tease him? Are you playing with him? Bakugou can’t help but be irrationally angry from how cute and sexy you are. How is it possible to be both cute and sexy? All he knows is that his dick knows the answer judging by how it’s pushing up against his briefs at the sight of you now. 

Mina stops you right in front of him despite his raging hard-on. Just his fucking luck. “Fellas,” she says with a smile, “this is my friend, Y/N. We work together at my agency and she was just dying to meet you guys.” 

You flush, becoming shy at Mina’s teasing. “C’mon, Mina,” you softly whine, bumping your hip with hers. God, what Bakugou wouldn’t give to feel those hips in his big hands! Would you let him? There’s no way you wouldn’t. Your short skirt says that you want his hands all over you. 

“Oh, really?” Denki asks, raising a brow. He struts up to you, already putting on the charm. “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he purrs, shaking your hand. “I’m Denki, by the way. You probably know me as Chargebolt.” He raises your hand to kiss it, but is stopped by Bakugou tossing a golf ball at his head. “Kill the flirting, perv,” he grumbles as Denki rubs his temple, glaring at him. 

“Sorry about them,” Mina sighs, but you just giggle. Bakugou’s ears perk at the sound. “That’s Kirishima and Sero aka Red Riot and Cellophane.” Kiri gives you a friendly wave while Sero gives you a wink that Bakugou doesn’t particularly like either. “And Bakugou already made his grand introduction,” Mina sarcastically says. 

You finally face him entirely and he sees your smile falter somewhat when your eyes land on his. Bakugou notices immediately. Do you not like what you see? Are you intimidated by him? He backs up to try and give you space, realizing how small you really are…small enough to break…small enough to toss around in a bedroom. His bedroom, preferably. 

“Nice to meet all of you,” you sweetly say, though your eyes are still on him. “I'm exposing myself here, but I am a big fan of you guys! I’ve got all your posters and merch!” Everyone except Bakugou laughs at your cute little confession. “Oh, yeah?” Sero asks, raising a pierced brow. “So who’s your favorite hero, Y/N? It’s okay, you can tell us.” 

He, Kiri and Denki look at you, interested despite your obvious shyness and discomfort. Even though Bakugou won’t admit it, even he is interested. Even so, he decides to come to your rescue, shocking every single one of his friends. “Ignore them,” he murmurs as he passes you a golf club. “You want next game or what?” 

You stare up at him with those big eyes, looking shocked he’s even saying much to you. You wrap one hand around the golf club, giving him a look at your pink manicure. He can’t imagine how they’d look on his cock while you’re stroking it for him. “I would,” you say, “but I’m not much of a player. I wore the right outfit for it though!”

You swish your hips around in your pink skirt, making Bakugou’s cock even harder when he thinks he catches a glimpse of your inner thighs. “Show her, Katsuki!” Kiri shouts from the sidelines. “She is our guest, after all.” The redhead gives him a knowing wink which emits a growl from Bakugou. 

“Whatever,” he huffs. Despite being pissed that his friends know he is whipped, he leads you over to one of the golf holes located up on a hill surrounded by wooden fans. You stand to the side, your tongue thoughtfully licking your bottom lip and giving him some awful thoughts about your mouth. “Am I doin’ it right?” you ask, even bending your knees though it’s still the incorrect form. 

Bakugou nearly laughs at your cuteness. “Nah, but I’ll give you points for your eagerness. Want me to show you?” You peer at him from over your shoulder and nod. Without even realizing how this looks, he stands behind you, putting a good distance between his front and your back to avoid giving you a taste of his raging bulge. 

“Stand with your hips square with your feet,” he explains, doing his best to not breathe in your shampoo. You do so before his hands cup yours over the golf club. “Take it back once, aim for the ball, and…” He helps you swing the club at the ball, your body twisting with his as you do. The ball goes soaring up the hill and into the hole, never missing. 

From the sidelines, the gang applauded you. “I did it!” you excitedly shout, turning to him. “We did it!” You jump up and down, giving Bakugou a great view of your breasts jiggling and bouncing about. You’re not making this easy for him at all, especially with that pretty smile on your face. “And that’s why you’re my favorite,” you confess. 

Bakugou scowls at you, confused. “Huh?” 

You look down at your shoes, suddenly shy. “The guys asked me who my favorite hero was out of all of you,” you softly say. “And it’s you ‘cause you’re so sweet.” Bakugou’s brain short-circuits. Sweet. You think he's sweet! You, the sweetest little thing he’s ever met. Suddenly, the air between you changes to something more open and flirtatious. He wants to know everything about you now. 

“Well,” he replies, a smirk on his lips, “maybe you can tell me more about how sweet I am over a milkshake?” You look up at him, excitement in your pretty eyes. “And over a phone call!” Denki calls from the sidelines. “Give her your number, dude!” 

Bakugou swears if looks could kill, his friends would be dead by now. But he does, in fact, give you his number at the end of the night. 

PRO!KIRI - Note: Reader is Chubby

‘Mine.’ 

That’s all he can think when he sees you for the first time at the gym. As soon as he sees you in your tight, pink sports bra and shorts that cup your shapely, plump ass so nicely, it’s a fucking wrap for him. You pop up on the treadmill next to him and he immediately notices despite him jogging. So far, he’s at five miles. Another five to go. 

He knows he can’t be distracted by anything that will ruin his workout, but so far, the distraction is winning. You glance at him and offer a smile that makes your little cheeks and baby face even cuter. The sight of you nearly knocks the air out of him. He manages to smile back at you, trying his best to not seem menacing with his sharp teeth, but you don’t seem too disarmed. 

He then pretends to go back to what he’s doing (working out), but all the while, he pays attention to your every move. He watches as one of your chunky fingers presses the buttons on the treadmill, your fingernail pained a glittery pink. Then you start walking along the moving convator belt, your high ponytail swishing behind you and reminding him of some very naughty things, like wrapping his fist in it while his cock is buried in the delectable pussy that he knows hides behind those shorts. 

He’s admittedly never dated a woman of your size or shape before. Honestly, he hasn’t had too many girlfriends due to his demanding job as a pro hero. But looking at the way your breasts jiggle in your sports bra and your soft, chubby waist behind your shorts is making him think differently. Not to mention how short you are. He’s got a thing for short girls. Maybe it’s because of the whole protection thing. He likes feeling tall and big enough to protect his girl from everyone and everything, you? You definitely fit the bill. 

These thought scare him slightly. Why is he pining after a whole stranger in a gym and thinking that you’re his? He’s eyeing you down like you’re a piece of food and he’s starving for it. He immediately turns away and blushes as red as his hair. ‘This is so unmanly,’ he thinks, criticizing himself for his behavior. 

But goddamn, are you too fine! Most of the men in here seem to think so too. He notices their eyes crawling across your body, stopping on your ass and boobs. He glances at you worriedly, wondering if you notice it too. But you’re too busy singing along to the music in your pink AirPods, your voice making him crack a smile. You’re just too cute! 

He doesn’t make his move on the first day though. He waits for about a month before he actually says something to you. Every time he comes in on the weekends, he does so on the same day at the same time hoping to see you. And he does. You strut in wearing your short, tight gym attire with your J’Adore Dior duffle bag, your ponytail bouncing. You greet each other with smiles before he watches you get into your workout, paying close attention to the way your body moves and any gym rats who may want to bother you. 

The day he actually makes a move isn’t one he planned on. It’s a Saturday morning and he’s busy with his cool-down stretches, pretending not to be looking at you in the mirror squatting with a kettlebell between your chunky hands. His eyes marvel at your body, wondering how you’d feel in an embrace or underneath him. Those thoughts quickly dissipate though when someone walks up to you. 

He is buff and about the same height as Kiri with tattoos and a muscle tee. Immediately, Kiri switches into protection mode and strains to hear your convo. “Hey,” the guy greets you. You pause with your workout, lowering the kettlebell down. “Hi,” you sweetly greet, giving him a smile. Kiri bristles. Those smiles are meant for him only! 

“I’m Trent,” the guy says, offering his hand for a shake. You take it, still the sweetheart. “Y/N,” you introduce yourself. Kiri notices that Trent’s hand lingers a bit more than necessary before it drops from yours. “That’s some outfit, y’know,” he chuckles, leaning against one of the machines as he attempts to put the charm on. 

“Thanks!” you giggle. “I bought this week. I just love pink. It’s such a pretty color.” Trent nods, his eyes trailing lustfully over your body in your tight one-piece unitard and cropped hoodie that stops just above your sternum. You don’t notice but Kiri does. “You know, I could always help you with this workout,” Trent suggests. "Help you get deeper into those squats.” 

You blink at him, obviously confused. “Are you a trainer?” you ask innocently. Kiri feels his cock stir. God, you’re just too cute! Trent smirks down at you. “I can be that and more,” he purrs. “Here, let me get you a mat!” 

“O-oh, that’s okay,” you protest. “I-I’m not–“ But he’s already moving to get you a mat and bends down to put it under your feet, eyeing your thighs and calves as he does so. You look so, so uncomfortable.’That’s it!’ Kiri thinks, irked to no end. He’s watched for long enough. He can't stop himself from rising to his feet and storming over to you and Trent, anger stirring within him. 

When he stops near you, you’re the first one that sees him. He thinks he sees the corner of your lips twitch into a smile but he isn’t too sure. He stares down at Trent, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I think she said she’s fine, Trent,” he firmly says, practically spitting the guy’s name. “You should listen to her.” 

Trent pauses and glares up at Kiri. “What do you care?” he scoffs. “So I suddenly can’t be a nice guy?” Kiri glares back at him, his red eyes sharp. “We both know what you’re bein’ nice for,” he almost growls. “And I’m not about to sit by and watch you bother this girl just for some nookie. Leave her alone before I call security.” He eyes Trent down, daring him to fight this. 

Trent stands, his jaw tight and eyes sharp. He glances at you before scoffing to himself and storming off, heading for the locker room. Once he’s gone, you sigh in relief. “Thank you,” you say with gratitude. “I have no idea why he wanted to give me a mat. I didn’t even need one!” 

Kiri relaxes, but only slightly. You’re talking to him. You two are really talking! “Don't thank me,” he chuckles modestly. “Not that I don't think you can handle yourself, but I saw him tryin’ to spit game and you not enjoyin’ it too much, so I just had to step in.” He dares to look down at you and almost creams on the spot at the sight of your cleavage. “W-Well, I’m gonna go and let you–“ 

“I’m Y/N,” you instantly say, twirling the drawstring to your hoodie. You offer him a gloss-lipped smile that gives him butterflies. “Ejirou,” he replies. “Kiri for short.” You giggle to yourself. “I know; other than you being Red Riot, I hear your name all the time here.” He blushes, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m a regular here. It’s one of the only gyms that are safer for pros like me.” 

“Well, I’ll keep your secret,” you giggle, “but only if you agree for me to buy you lunch for your good deed.” From the way you slightly rub your thighs together and peer up at him through your lashes, he feels like you’re thinking of a lot more than just lunch. And he wants to know just what. 

He smirks down at you, trying hard to ignore his dick chubbing in his basketball shorts. “Maybe,” he replies, playing along. “I think I’d need your number for that though. I mean, just to tell you what I like…for lunch.” He almost kicks himself. You giggle to yourself, already pulling your rose gold iPhone out of your pocket. “It’s a date then!” you chirp. 

After leaving the gym with your number in his phone, he can’t help but nut to the thought of you while in his car minutes later, the vision of your pretty lips and body coated in his sticky cum making him fuck his fist a little harder. Call him unmanly, but goddamn, he can't wait for the real thing!  

DABI - When he first sees your cute little self in your mini skirt that barely covers your ass, he just wants to follow you around and scare anyone who dares to look at you the wrong way. 

And that’s exactly what he does. ‘Cause what the fuck are you doing strutting around like that in this club? Don’t you know how you’re dressed? You’re dressed like you want to get fucked. Though he can’t see you from the front, he can tell you’re wearing a halter top judging from the tie around your slender back. And no bra? Those titties must be bouncing everywhere! 

As you can damn well tell, Dabi likes the innocent girls…or the girls who look innocent. Something about ruining them and bringing out that nasty, dark, devious side to them that he knows lies deep underneath their soft, pink, sweet personality. And you’re no different. 

So he lies deep in the cut and watches you laugh and chat with people, blushing cutely when they compliment your clothes and being completely oblivious to the guys who stare you down like they want to eat you alive. He sips on his drink and eyes your legs, wondering how they’d feel wrapped around him. 

It doesn’t take long for this little game to come to an end. You step outside for some air and he’s right behind you, but he doesn’t go out immediately. He watches as you lean against the wall and dig into your pink purse for your bubblegum. Finally, he comes outside, feeling blessed that he can finally get you alone. 

You don't even flinch when he comes up to stand beside you, taking a box of cigarettes out of his back pocket. In fact, you give him a smile as you chew on your bubblegum, your pink lips forming an O for a big bubble. He imagines those lips forming an O when you moan while his tongue is buried deep in your cunt that lies beneath that skirt. From his angle, he can finally see the rest of your outfit––a glittery, pink halter top paired with platform boots and luscious, curly hair that makes you look like one of those early 2000s movie stars. 

“Want some?” you ask, holding the box of gum out to him. His eyes flick from the box to your big, doe-like eyes rimmed with mascara to make them look almost like a doll’s. Like his pretty little doll. “You’re askin’ a stranger whether or not he wants your gum?” he asks, raising a curious brow at you before puffing on his cig. 

You giggle adorably, almost ditzy-like. “You’re not a stranger, silly!” you protest. He blinks down at you, confused. “I saw you when I came into the club with my friend…and while you were following me around.” 

Dabi blanches. Fuck, he’s been caught! How did you even notice? “Accept my apology,” he sighs, smoke billowing from his lips. “Couldn't help myself. You just look too damn cute to be in there not bein’ looked after.” 

At this, you become shy and advert your eyes as a bashful smile adorns your pretty face. “You know, smoke is a bad habit,” you softly say. He nods, agreeing. “What’s your point?” he asks, paying close attention to your body language. He notices how tight your thighs are pressed together and the way your fingers fiddle with your skirt. You’re wanting something. 

“Because…” Your eyes slowly trail back to his, now hooded and lustful. “Nicotine breath ruins kisses,” you purr. “And I’d really like a kiss from you. I have to thank you for watching my back in there, don’t you think?” 

Dabi swears he’s never been harder in his life. He’s also have never ditched a cig that wasn’t a stub yet either, but the promise of finally getting your lips on his makes him toss the cig down and crunch it under his shoe. 

Several minutes later, your glossy, soft lips are on his, the taste of strawberries in his mouth, while his cock is buried deep in your soft, wet pussy. Your hands are pressed against the wall as he grips your hips, your skirt hiked up and your lace panties pushed to the side to give him all the freedom to fuck you as he pleases. And he does so.

“You’re just like a doll,” he grunts into your ear, growing harder with every breathy moan that leaves your lips. “Are you my pretty baby doll tonight?” 

All he gets his a broken moan of his name in response. He chuckles to himself as he lifts your leg up slightly and continues to fuck you silly behind the nightclub. He knew you had a devious side.

NATSUO - You were just the cute girl in his class that he couldn’t stop thinking about. 

You would walk in wearing the cutest outfits known to man, all of them with pink tossed in. His favorite one was the cropped pink sweater and white skirt that swished around your legs and hiked up slightly in the back to give him a sneak peek of your thighs. That was the first day you two met. You had sat in front of him and rummaged around in your backpack, oblivious to Natsuo burning a hole in your back. 

You sighed adorably and turned to him randomly, your glossy lips in an adorable pout that had his cock stirring in his jeans. “Hi,” you say with a smile. “Sorry to bug you, but I forgot my pen at home. Do you have one I can borrow?” 

It took a minute for Natsuo to answer because he was too busy staring at your lips move, envisioning his dick between them. “U-Uh, yeah,” he finally replied, idiotically so. He dug into his backpack and handed you one of his best ink pens. 

You happily smiled as you took the pen from him, your soft fingers grazing against his. “Thanks!” you chirped. “I promise I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day.” And you did. That is when your friendship began. He begins letting you borrow your pens while you send him notes from class if he’s too tired to pay attention and falls asleep during class, dreaming of himself bending you over one of the desks. 

When you first asked him to help you study for your midterm exam, he can’t believe his luck. “You’re just so smart,” you whine as you two walk alongside each other in the hall. “I can’t afford to fail, so I need your help. Meet you at your dorms this weekend? I’ll bring snacks!” 

He was helpless to refuse you, but the idea of being alone with you this weekend made him want to bust and hide under his bed at the same time. He didn’t have that much experience with girls, especially pretty, cute, adorable ones like you. He spends the whole day cleaning up his space and gargling down Listerine mouthwash before you arrive. 

When you do, it’s at 5 PM after you get off your shift. You show up at his door in a pretty, baby pink dress carrying a bag of snacks and sodas. “Thanks for letting me come over,” you say after Natsuo invites you in and get you situated at the table in the middle of his dorm. “I just know I’m gonna pass with you as a tutor.” 

He blushes at the compliment. How is it you’re so sweet? “S’cool,” he chuckles sheepishly. “I’m happy to help. Thank you for the snacks though.” He ogles at the all of the snacks you pour out of your bag––Pocky boxes; chips; cookies; biscuits. You embarrassingly giggle, picking at your pink nails. “I, uh…like snacks,” you shyly confess. 

‘Oh, God,’ Natsuo laments in his head as his cock surges in his sweats. Why the fuck did he wear sweats?! Why the fuck are you so cute?! This is not going to be easy. 

It doesn’t get any easier for him as the night goes on. He gets distracted at some points at the crumbs dusting the corner of your mouth or the way you swipe your gloss over your lips. He tries not to freak out when you lean in to point out words you’re having trouble remembering the definitions for, the scent of your birthday cake body wash and the feeling of your bosom against his forearm. Are you doing this on purpose? 

Despite him explaining and breaking down the study guide for you, all he can think about is dirtying up your dress with his cum or plunging his cock in and out of the gushy walls of your pussy. It’s impossible not to. He’s practically sweating halfway during the session so he has to strip himself of his hoodie, revealing his blue tee underneath that stretches across his muscles. 

When you finally finish the session, it’s around 7 PM and you’ve correctly remembered most of the guide. When Natsuo gives you an approving smile, you squeal and jump on him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you cheer, wrapping your arms tight around him. He blushes, feeling your breasts pushing against his chest. “You’re such a good tutor! I’m gonna ace this exam because of you!” 

Natsuo laughs at your cuteness, giving you a one-armed hug in respect to you. “It’s no problem,” he says. “It helps when you have such a great student.” 

You pull away from him, peering up at him with those big eyes and that pretty face. “You know,” you say, your voice suddenly dipping an octave but still oh-so soft, “I’d hate to leave here and not repay you for such great work.” Your hands find his and you begin playing with his fingers, his cock stirring as you do. “Is there anyway you can think of, Natsuo?” you ask, batting your lashes prettily at him. 

Oh, does he. And he knows you exactly what when he has you lying down in his bed with your dress hiked up on your hips where his hands are and his tongue finally fucking your pussy. “Fuck, Natsuo!” you whine, your hands in his snow-white hair. “Please!” 

He moans as he pulls his tongue out of your wet hole and stares up at you. “Stop what, honey?” he asks, smiling at your blissful expression. “You wanted this, didn’t you? To repay me?”

His thumb finds your clit and begins slowly rubbing it, relishing the way you squirm for him. “Well, now you can.” 

oof your writing is so good 🙈 if your requests are open, would you be willing to write smth for dabi with a nervous virgin reader? Maybe some fingering and petting, lots of praise and encouragement if you're okay with that!! I also wouldn't mind if theres a little dubcon scattered in there for flavour😳 Thank you!🙏

Fuck it’s his favorite— absolutely I will Nonnie♥️ Dabi is nothing if not the perfect gentlemen… sorta. Am I gonna get sued for changing his words in this manga panel? I got carried away with this lol

Yandere Dabi x Virgin! Darling

tw: NSFW • Fem! Darling • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Implied Mental/Emotional/Physical Abuse • Dubcon • Praise • Virgin! Darling • BDSM • Fingering • Oral • Sex (M)(F) • Denial/Edging • Overstimulation • Dacryphilia • Unprotected Sex • Creampie

The front door slammed loud enough to reverberate around the apartment.

You sat facing the small tv, the screen playing some sort of cartoon with the volume on low, unmoving even as the thuds of his boots against vinyl faux wood flooring became louder. You were curled around your legs, pulled to your chest as your bare feet seemed to absorb the cold around you, icy skin keeping you grounded. Only a thin ratty oversized t-shirt and tiny shorts covering your body, despite the broken thermostat keeping the apartment at almost freezing temperatures.

Dark combat boots entered your field of vision, you numbly let your eyes flick up to take him in. He smelled like cigarette smoke and whiskey, the burning scent making acid bubble up in your stomach to your throat, but you meekly swallowed it down and gave a wobbly smile. “W-welcome home…” it was said with all the enthusiasm of a man walking towards his execution.

He crouches down to face you better, forearms resting on his knees as he levels you with a… soft look.

It has chills shooting down your spine, your stomach rolling and clenching while your chest heaves with anxiety. He’s not a soft man. He’s never been soft, not really, only in strange sporadic moments does he gently do anything to you, but it’s always followed by something sinister. Always.

“Hey pet, you cold?” He’s sadistic and cruel even on a good day. His words immediately making your eyes burn as you try to stop the impending tears. You’re always cold, left freezing locked up until his return, your only source of comfort and warmth him. It was a nasty play, logically you knew it, but logic was what got you hurt so you nodded despite the itch in your heart begging you to hold out a little longer. “M’cold…” you assent, unable to see the defeated dull look in your own eyes, but he could.

“C’mere then,” his smile is so sweet, his staples hardly pulling and his usually vibrant eyes more subdued and gentle. You wanted him to stop whatever game he’s playing now. Whatever sick trick he’s got hidden to make your walls crumble around you. His arms spread open, his knees hitting the floor so he could straighten his spine, and his embrace looking so warm.

Like selling your soul to the devil, you caved. Pathetically nearly falling as you all but threw yourself into him.

The fire wielding psychopath was a lot of things, and sadly running warmer than a normal person was one of them. Just being close to him was like sitting near a furnace, heat radiating off him in waves it seemed. You had all the time in the world to hate yourself when he inevitably left you again to nearly freeze, for now you focused on getting feeling back into your limbs as you pressed yourself as close as possible.

His chuckle is breathy as he wraps you up easily, pulling you into his lap as he sits back on his ass now, your thighs on either side of his to let you be as physically close as possible. Well, almost as physically close as possible, because when you were so desperate for his touch like this, it’s hard not to think about you begging for him to really warm you up.

“Better?” He doesn’t really need to ask, not when you’re fighting to keep your hands from digging under his shirt and getting more body heat from him. Your little sigh of contentment adorable, and while his day was mundane, he did get to release most of his pent up frustration on some lowlife pieces of shit. He was in a good mood, but he’d be in a better one soon.

“Hn” your little affirmation quiet as you rested your cheek against the exposed skin of his collarbone, breathing him in and relaxing as your stiff muscles and joints soaked his warmth up greedily. You didn’t even fight when his hands began to smooth over your skin, up your calves and thighs to your ass where he gave a little squeeze. You put up no resistance, no screaming or fighting tonight it seemed. “You still cold?” His lips are right are by your ear, warm breath blowing over it and sending a shiver of something… different down to your stomach. The stale cigarette scent wasn’t as bothersome to you when he wasn’t being mean it seemed.

You let him pet and stroke your skin, warming you up gradually and shifting you both around until your core was against his stomach and he was flat on his back. He even lifted up his shirt and your own a bit to give more contact, the staples across his chest smoother than you’d initially thought.

This was all wrong and you were without a doubt being soothed into… something. Peace? A sense of safety? Whatever it was, you mentally kept yourself prepared. Even if his touch was soft and careful, you knew what lurked behind those pretty eyes.

“You stopped shakin’…” his observation was more of a statement, but indeed you had warmed up enough not to shiver anymore. He wasn’t usually so nice as to help warm you up like this, usually making you drop to your knees and cling to him while he heckled your behavior.

Your world flipped too quickly to react. Your back now on the cool floor with his body looming over you.

“You’re still cold though, aren’t you pet?” His smile isn’t nice anymore.

“D-Dabi please…”

“What’s wrong, you don’t want me to warm you up anymore?” It was a thinly veiled threat that had you nearly delirious with panic in seconds.

“N-no I do! I do, please don’t stop!” Your pretty eyes filling with tears made him bite down hard on his tongue, tasting blood as he struggles to keep himself calm. It’s you after all. You weren’t some cheap whore he screwed for a quick release. You were his.

That meant something. Whether it was good or bad was debatable and complicated.

“Then let me warm you up, it’ll be faster like this,” he’s not lying. Even as he laughs at the confusion and waring emotions on your face, he really isn’t lying to you this time.

His lips aren’t soft. The kiss nothing like the ones you’d sneakily shared with a crush under the school bleachers, that kiss was a bit too wet and slimy. This one was commanding. His tongue easily slipping into your mouth in your shock, happy to invade and taste you, to share the overwhelming taste of tobacco. Your hands are tangled in his coat, tugging lightly on the fabric as he devours your mouth. He pulls back when you start to struggle, and the sight of your swollen parted lips has his pants uncomfortably tight. His zipper digging into his cock now.

“Dabi—,” your voice is barely even a whisper, almost inaudible but he catches it and pauses as he looks down at you carefully.

The fact that he’s even being careful should be considered as a mercy.

“Please be gentle…” your lips twist into a grimace, the lame line the only thing your muddled mind can conjure. His snort of amusement not helping your wounded pride, but as he shrugs his coat off and looks down at you, his words give you pause.

“I’m going to make you forget everything bad tonight pet.”

He doesn’t elaborate. You don’t need him to. You don’t want this. It doesn’t matter though, because you never wanted any of this. His sanity not even in question, because he’s clearly out of his damn mind and has been for quite a while.

His shirt is next, revealing his chest in the dim light of the tv still playing quietly, the words not even registering as a language you understood. The damaged flesh leathery and colored a dark purple in contrast to his healthy skin. You lay limp and almost defeated beneath him, watch as his hands deftly remove your own shirt, and while it’s not the first time he’s seen you naked… this would be the first he’s touched you so intimately. Your breasts exposed to the cool air harden quickly, his smile predatory as he leans over your chest to flick one with his tongue.

The sensation shoots straight to your pussy.

“Pretty little pet, are you scared?” His question is rhetorical, but you hate how he just seems to know your thoughts and feelings. So much so you wanted to ask if he hide a second quirk. In a last act of defiance, you shake your head. You are scared, terrified of what else there even is to lose because this evil man seems determined to take and have all of you. He’s insatiable for whatever you have, like a vampire taking the life right out of you. Except he won’t kill you, even if sometimes you wished he would. To end this game.

“Pfft, you look so serious,” his face is filled with only hunger and amusement, as he lets his rough palms rest over your breasts, squeezing lightly as he lets himself just take you in. His hands drag over your much softer skin, looking at the odd scar here and there left by his flames during the early days of your readjustment period. He lets one hand rest just over the mound of your pussy, still covered by the thin shorts that hardly covered anything. He’s quiet, and so are you, as you breathe and struggle to stay still for whatever this was. You imagined it to be more violent, less pathetic on your end, as if you’d given up without a fight.

Your tears of frustration finally broke and trailed down your cheeks, your brows furrowed and cheeks puffed as you try to stay silent and uphold whatever amount of dignity you had left. You wouldn’t beg him to stop, it only spurred him on. When his eyes looked back up, the image of you nearly drove him feral as he grinned, giddy with excitement in lieu of you crying. His snicker of approval only making you flinch back as his fingers hook inside the waist band of the shorts and your underwear.

“Keep crying pet. Maybe a hero will come to save you?” His words drip sarcasm as he now roughly yanks your bottoms down and off your body in one swift motion. You’re left completely nude and shivering as the cold seeps back into your body as you lay on the floor. “I don’t think any heroes even patrol this side of town anymore. Too dirty and messy, they can’t be bothered to save people here. So I guess that leaves just you n’me.” He’s not looking at your face, though he’d be elated to see the look of crushed hope painting your features, instead his eyes were trained on your tightly shut thighs. The soft skin a bit distorted from how hard you squeezed them closed. His dark hair falling a bit into his gaze as he easily digs his fingers roughly into your flesh to pry them open.

“Hii!” You cry of pain and shock adorable to his eyes as he gets an eye full in the dim light of your wet pussy.

“Better keep these spread pet, if I gotta open them again for you, I’ll give you a real reason to cry.” His eyes are fierce and foreboding as they meet your gaze, and fear keeps you compliant as you obey and keep your legs open where he left them. He smiles in approval, humming to himself as he begins to undo his belt and open up his pants.

He shifts to one handedly yanking his pants down to free his aching cock, his free hand moving to his open mouth to layer on his own saliva to his fingers. The wet digits brought to your pussy as you whimper, gently spreading your folds and admiring it as he grips his hard cock in his hand. You make the mistake of looking at it.

He’s covered in piercings. His cock long and thick, more so in the middle, with a slight upward curve… but there’s two distinct barbs through his dick on both sides, with the tip sporting one prominent one that had you wanting to disobey and close your legs anyway. It looked frightful and painful if anything else, and you briefly wondered if he did this to ensure his victims were thoroughly tormented at every step.

“Fuck look at you baby, so pretty like this aren’t you?” He’s gently poking and circling your clit, loving each little scared gasp and unsure look you shoot his way. He can tell it feels good for you, but with the uncertainty and fear factor of his looks and his cock, you’re wound tight in apprehension. He thinks it’s a beautiful sight on you. Your little sniffles and pouty lips captivate him into leaning over you again, licking your lips until you open and let him kiss you again. It’s languid and lazy like him, proving how good his mood currently is by how he’s taking his time with you. Your hands stay by your side, gripped tight into fists as you feel a finger begin to push inside of you.

He breaks the kiss the time, looking down to see you take his finger.

“Not so bad is it pet?” He wiggled and pushes it as deep as he can go, loving how your back aches and chest juts out in his face for easy access. He’s nice as he works you open with one finger, lavishing your sore nipples with licks and bites. You keep the moans soft and low, struggling to hate this like you thought you would.

It didn’t hurt at all. It felt good. That was the problem. Dabi never makes you feel good, he torments you like a cat with a mouse. That’s why he calls you pet.

So when he squeezes in a second finger and you moan louder? You nearly knock a tooth out slapping a hand over your lips in embarrassment.

“No you don’t,” his fingers rip free from your tight cunt, both hands gripping your wrists and pinning them with one hand above your head. He grabs his jacket, using the arms to make a makeshift cuff to lock your hands together. “Keep’’em right there,” he orders, and by his stern features you know he means it.

Tired of just testing the waters, Dabi crawls down your body in favor of bringing his face directly before your pussy. “Dabi?” Your head lifted to try and see him as he wraps his arms under your hips to hoist you up higher towards his awaiting mouth. “Been thinkin’ of how this pussy tastes for months,” he grins, letting his pierced tongue run from your dripping hole to your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body as your legs jolt and snap around his head.

You realize quickly and apologize, opening them to avoid any punishment.

“Good girl~” you don’t like how his praise warms you up further, your shaking now less from cold or fear and more from arousal.

He repeats his first few licks, before beginning to truly lavish your pretty cunt with his tongue and skills. Dabi isn’t actually an experienced man, most women fearful or disgusted by him for obvious reasons, but it wasn’t hard for him to figure out your reactions and follow the flow of your pleasure. The way you twitched and moaned, struggled to keep your hands in the spot he ordered you to, to keep your legs spread, he loved all of it. When your moans became high pitched whimpers and whines, and your muscles spasmed, he knew you were close.

“D-Dabi I think I—,” you were so close, core wound so tight you could snap at any second, and for the first time you liked what he was doing to you.

Until he stopped.

“No—!” Your cry was embarrassing, as you shook beneath him in horror of your own reaction. Panting and trying to catch your breath as your pleasure faded by the second, his Cheshire grin soaking up your disappointment eagerly. Of course he would, you felt bitter, even as he returned to licking and sucking your clit. Only when the build up returned did you relax again, moving your hips up a little as you neared the crest once more…

He stopped again.

“Dabi—!” Your indignant tone telling as you huffed, sweat beginning to dot your skin despite the cool temperatures, Dabi’s warmth even removed like this helping.

Your stomach ached with the urge to cum. “Something wrong pet?” His face said he knew what was wrong, but it seemed he wanted you to say it. Instead you stubbornly pressed your lips together, his shrug of nonchalance following as he returned to kissing and sucking, slower and more gradually building you up again.

Even if you mentally prepared for it, he let you get much closer to coming than the previous times, so when he pulled away, your legs clamped tight around his head to stop him. “Fuck, please Dabi,” you hated yourself. Hated how he held so much power over you.

If you didn’t look so cute, he’d probably punish you too for not listening.

“Please what?” You watch as he lets a drop of his salvia drip into your pussy, your trembling legs pushed open again by his hands as he stares up at you.

“P-please…” you didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to give him anymore of yourself but… “—please make me cum.”

He looks like that cat which got the milk. His satisfaction palpable as he laughs. “Well why didn’t you just say so? Since you said please.” His teasing tone muffled again soon by your wet pussy, his aggressive approach now much more intense as he eats you out with the purpose of making you cream his face now.

It doesn’t take long before the string violently snaps inside you, your orgasm intense and nearly painful as you come apart.

“Ah, yes, oh—,” you try to shift away, his tongue still laving your clit as he looks up at you, narrow gaze teasing and telling as you whine. “D-Dabi I-I already—ah please!” You almost bite your tongue when he sucks hard on your clit, your panic building with another orgasm. You moan, your head thrown back as your fingers grip and tug on the binding of his coat, hips shaking as you come again.

His lower face is soaked, but he can’t find it in himself to stop as he licks up all your release and noses your clit. Switching his assault to inside of your quivering hole, letting his wet hot tongue slither in, licking and poking your walls. He moans with you now, relaxing as he lets himself get comfortable, leaning against your thigh he has propped up now with his arm keeping you locked in position. He’s lazily feasting as you come again, this time breaking his rule and trying to push his face away with your hands still bound.

He doesn’t even stop then, just uses his free hand to grip the fabric and anchor your hands to your stomach as he continues to work you into another frenzy.

“S’too much! Stop! Stop Dabi! Please fuck, I can’t, ugh, no more—,” your pleas are ignored as he laughs, eyes crinkling as he watches you twitch and jolt with even the tiniest amount of pressure to your clit now.

“I thought you wanted to cum? Change your mind already?” You can hardly manage a full sentence, gasping for air like he’s choked you or something. He relents though, only because his cock is close to shooting his load even though he hadn’t touched himself while playing with you. Using his coat, he lifts your hands back above your head and scoots forward to let his heated cock slap against your wet folds. His hips automatically jerking a few times as his dick feels the soft wet heat your cunt is soaked in.

“You want my cock pet?” You look delirious and exhausted, sweat making your hair cling to your face as you briefly almost admit to being too warm now. Your both chilled and overheated as your sweat dries. Your blurry vision glances down to his throbbing length peaking at you from below, the heavy rod sliding back and forth through your slick and causing your pussy to twitch as he nudges your clit with it.

“S’not gonna fit…” his lip nearly splits on his smile, the cute admission only making him wanna shove it in you more to prove it will fit.

“You don’t think so?” His eyes look inhumanly blue from the cast of whatever show played on the tv now. One hand stays to keep your own pinned, while the other travels down your soft body to grip his cock and line himself up. “‘Cuz I think it will,” then he’s pushing in. His tip goes in easier as it gets crushed by your tight convulsing cunt, the rest engorged by blood feels painful as you cry, Dabi moaning as your gooey walls try to force him out. “I think,” one sharp thrust sinks a whole inch in, your eyes opening wide as tears spill freely, “I’ll get my entire cock in,” he pulls out only a little before shoving in a little more again. “And you know what else I think?” He’s leering down at you, manic grin frightening with the added shadows cast. You can feel his piercings, tugging and forcing themselves inside as he shifts and pushes, nearly stealing your ability to breathe.

“I think you’re gonna like it.” You can’t talk and he knows it, as his tip kisses your cervix, and then it’s bruising it as he shoves himself to entire way in, gasping in pleasure he sees himself fully sheathed inside you. His groin flush with your ass. Your walls so tight it feels impossible to pull out now. It doesn’t matter to Dabi though, as he grits his teeth and rocks forward and back, creating delicious friction on his cock. You’re left to sniffle and cry, pussy stretched painfully wide and aching deep inside from how his rough entrance.

“Poor little crybaby,” he chuckles, leaning closer to lick the tears off your cheeks as he finally gets himself wet enough to begin a slow pace inside you. “You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, burying his face in your neck for a moment while he ruts into you, quick short thrusts working him close to his orgasm. His hand works between you, thumbing your clit as you cry and writhe beneath him, pussy clenching and relaxing as you’re forced to cum with something thick, hot, and painfully heavy inside your cunt.

“Shitttt,” his teeth sink into your neck, grunting as his balls draw tight and he pumps his boiling load deep into your womb, pushing even deeper as it twitched and spurts. Your legs locking and trembling as you see stars.

He stills for a moment, catching his breath quickly as he lifts up to look at your ruined appearance. Your face covered in tears as you pant, eyes nearly closed as struggle to stay awake. Your pussy even messier, slick and cum coating you both and the floor, a tiny bit of pink mixed too.

The thought that it was him who ruined your innocence, taken your first and last, has him hardening again inside you.

You can only whine, silently pleading for a break, but his answering smile is familiar and devious.

“C’mon pet, we’re just getting started tonight.” He chuckles, pulling his hips back before roughly slamming into you now. The shock woke you up fully, pussy protesting the rough treatment he sets as the room fills with salacious noises, your pussy squelching with each slap of his balls. The piercing on his tip hitting a new angle as he leans back and jerks your hips up off the floor.

“Oh!” Your vision goes black as you cum, and Dabi only laughs and fucks you harder as you pass out, loving the stupid expression on your fucked out face.

“That’s it pet, said I was gonna make you forget!” He’s emptying another load inside you not longer after, his own dick becoming a bit overstimulated but too engrossed fucking you to stop yet. With you half conscious, it’s easy to slip out and flip you to your stomach before sliding back in smoothly. “Fuck, you feel so good baby, taking my cock like you were made for it,” his words are slurred in his pleasure, his hips working against your ass as he drags his slick cock out of your pussy before working it back in. He’s even deeper like this, your belly and hips flat on the floor as he fucks you.

You can’t even remember why you didn’t want this anymore. The pleasure and warmth overwhelming and so perfect.

At least as he fills your pussy again, you don’t feel cold.

Hi could I request Keigo Takami, Bakugo Katsuki, Izuku Midoriya, Dabi, Shoto Todoroki , Kirishima Kabedon their GF please 💗

The reverse of my last post I see. Cute no matter what.

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya, Bakugo Katsuki, Shoto Todoroki, Eijiro Kirishima, Dabi, Keigo Takami x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, kabedon, teasing, neck kissing, biting, flirting, blushing, making out, slight possessiveness

A/N: MHA has been making a mess of me, what the hell man?!

Izuku is never rough or menacing with you, he's usually rather nervous. So it must be something serious to end up with you pinned against the wall by him, a deadly serious expression on his face. Not really because as soon as his face gets close to yours he loses his bravado and blushes deep pink, his head falling on your shoulder. He wanted to make you flustered for once but ended up mission it up. Cute, but he also succeeded, you were flustered, just better at hiding it.

It's not unusual for Bakugo to kabedon you. He does it very, very often, never getting tired of seeing you trip over your words whenever he does it. His smirk never leaves his face, but it's the softer kind the he gives everyone else. Teases you be getting really close to you, making you wait until he kisses you, his lips almost feel too hot on yours. Doesn't matter if anyone who passes by sees it, even better then, you get your daily dose of kisses, and he gets to tease you about it for the rest of the day.

The only time that he kabedoned you it was an accident on his part. He was trying to get you out of the way of a crowd and ended up pressing you against a wall, a little bit too close to you, his breath tickling you and making you squirm. When he pulled back he realized what he had done, resulting in both of you getting flustered and your faces getting hot, on fire actually for him. He manages to cool down and collect himself, giving you a kiss on the cheek and saying that he was glad that you're okay. He hasn't talked about the incident since.

Kirishima loves to tease you by pushing you into a kebedon. He will sometimes try to have a casual conversation like that, just trying to see how long you'd last like that before you bury your head in his chest. He'd pull you close, his arms wrapping around you as he starts laughing at how cute you are and how he never gets tired of the reactions you give him when he teases you like this. And it happens pretty often too, you should be used to it by now. Or not. Either works for him.

Dabi pulls the kabedon move on you when feels possessive over you. He knows better then anyone how beautiful you are, therefore he needs to let everyone know that they can't have you. They can look all the want, as he pins you against the wall, kisses your neck, pushes his leg between your legs and tries to make you weak in the knees just from these little touches. That should sent a very clear message to anyone thinking they have a chance with you.

Keigo is a huge flirt, he always winks at the camera when he's giving an interview because he knows you're watching. So of course he loves to kabedon you, get really close and watch as his words get to you, slowly making you crumble and form his affections. His eyes are slightly hooded when you arch into him when you're like that, he didn't have anything more then teasing planned, most of the time it just stays as teasing, but other time it can quickly become more.

Don’t Ignore Me- Dabi x Fem Reader

CW: implication of stalking, dub-con, kabedon dark content style, mature content, fem reader A/N: One day I will find my way back to this style ---- You probably should have been more aware that night. Probably should have been listening to the steady thud of the boots behind you because he sure wasn’t trying to cover up his footsteps. Instead you were to focused on the glow of your phone and taking slow drags from your cigarette. Letting the nicotine lovingly caress your lungs and shoot of shocks of endorphins through your system. Even with the stress relief you still managed to regularly cuss out the messages appearing in front of you.

           “Stupid, fucking…,” you muttered, probably a bit too loudly, because a choked back laugh sounded and that’s when you realized that those steady beats had been the noise of someone following you for close to twenty minutes.

God, you were dense. Your steps became less harried, but you didn’t stop instead you kept your phone in front of you and your eyes flicked to each side to take in your surroundings. Fuck, you were lost. How unlucky could you get? The one night some creep decides to follow you and you get so sucked into your friend’s misfortunate choices that you take a wrong turn into some seedy part of the city.            

“Don’t act like you don’t know I’m here, doll, it hurts my feelings,” the sweet tone to his voice was followed by a chuckle.

You didn’t engage, you couldn’t let yourself fall into his trap. But apparently your admirer…or stalker? Did not appreciate being ignored, because the next thing you knew you were being shoved up against the rough brick of a near by building, hands stopping your from falling face first against it and in the process losing your access to nicotine. All followed by the sound of a heavy palm slamming above you, causing your head to snap up to it.

“There we go, such beautiful eyes when they are wide and nervous, doll face,” his voice was gruff and rubbed across your senses tauntingly.

His breath feathered over your nape, and he scoffed, “Fragile little things like you shouldn’t be out at night on their own, you know? There are some nasty people in this part of town.”

His teeth nipped at your ear lobe, and you shuddered, though you couldn’t tell if it was from revulsion or from the heat coiling in your stomach. You turned your head just barely and when you met no resistance you shifted to your back.

The gaze that met yours was so impossibly blue, and a mix of dulled pain with a deepness that would drown you if weren’t careful. His skin seemed to be held together by staples and there were obvious seams where scars made his skin into patchwork designs. This man, you’d seen him on the news.            

“You’re…” you swallowed as his other hand came up to the side of your head.

You were scared, nervous, and burning hot in the way that made your thighs ache to rub together. He just radiated arrogance and power; it drew you in like a moth to his blue flames. You knew you’d burn alive as soon as you touched them, and sadly, you found your self-preservation slipping even more.

“What, doll? Who am I?” he grinned toothily, dull eyes sparking for a moment with sadistic pleasure.

“You’re the Blue Flame…,” you said with hitch in your breath.            

He clicked his tongue, “Yes, but you can call me Dabi. We are after all, about to get to know each other quite well, aren’t we?

You tilted your head, “Are we?”

His smirk was back, and he gripped your chin, “Oh, a bit of the brat is back, is she? That’s fine, I can take my time making you beg.”

He rubbed his thumb along your lower lip, dragging it down before lapping lightly at it with just the tip of his tongue, watching the entire time with those intense eyes. When your eyelids fluttered traitorously his lips pressed to yours, rolling and brushing against the softness of your skin. Teasing tiny touches, never pushing deeper and then when you whined, he responded by gripping the back of your neck tight, forcing your head to tilt up as he licked into your mouth when it fell open on a moan.

The stud on his tongue blazed a distracting path along your palate. And you could just barely keep up, because honestly you were still stuck on the fact that not only was this man a villain, and a big one. You also didn’t know him; and he’d been following you. Yet here you were, unable to do anything but whine and whimper into his mouth because he kissed like a fucking gift from god.

“Don’t worry, we got all night. And I plan to make use of every second.”            

bnha: their partner has an oral fixation (part 2)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

Dabi | Tomura | Shouta

more smutty bnha headcanons no one asked for but i’m writing them anyway because it’s fun.

obligatory mdni, 18+ content. you will be blocked.

tags: fem!reader, oral fixation (obv), oral sex, rough sex, fish hooking mentioned, facials mentioned, finger sucking, unintentional hand & finger kink

Dabi

i hope you love sucking dick and getting face fucked, cause he loves it too. any time, anywhere, as many times as you want. at least once or twice a day if not more. also he loves painting your face if you don’t swallow.

lets you cockwarm him at night if it helps you fall asleep. he’d never admit it, but it helps him fall asleep too. he’d also never say that he’s got a tiny soft spot for how sweet you look with his dick in your mouth while you lay in bed.

he might make you beg or tease you a bit if you’re bratty, but you both know the second those needy doe eyes come out, your head’s getting shoved into his lap. he thinks it’s even better when you’re standing and he gets to grab you by the hair and pull you down to your knees.

finger fucks your mouth just to see you drool and make you blush, and makes you look him in the eye when he does it. might even do it when his friends are around because he doesn’t give a fuck, he wants you to be a pretty mess, and he doesn’t care who knows it.

you can bet your bottom dollar he will fish hook you when he fucks you from behind because, “you look so pretty like this, babydoll. i can’t help myself.”

Tomura

he thinks you’re insane for playing with his hands as much as you do, and he loves it. you think you might be insane too, but you’re with Shiggy for fuck’s sake, of course there’s at least a little part of you that likes the fear of being turned to dust when he’s got that beautifully wild, sadistic grin on his face.

might like to taunt you with the fear, but would never actually harm you.

enthusiastic about it in the beginning because god do you look so fucking slutty and needy, but the more he sees that you genuinely care about him, the more afraid he is of hurting you. wears specific gloves that cover his pinkies because you’re special to him because it makes him less anxious.

your love and tenderness with the part of him that has only ever destroyed, only hurt people and hurt them bad, is painful and he doesn’t handle it well. he pushes you away a lot, but you’re patient with him, knowing he’ll always come back.

once admitted that you make him itch a little less, but refuses to think of the ramifications of what that means about his feelings for you.

lets you give head whenever you want. enjoys it a lot when he’s playing video games and he gets to ignore you no matter how enthusiastic you are. will occasionally grab you by the hair and use you as a way to get off.

Shouta

man’s busy and so are his hands - grading, case work, lesson planning, training, taking care everyday life - so they’re not something you go for often, but you don’t mind so much. you appreciate any moment you can share with him, especially if he’s curled up next to you or in your lap.

occasionally puts his hand towards your lips in bed at night without thinking; so much of his life is on autopilot out of necessity that sometimes he doesn’t think twice.

most of his appreciation for your fixation comes out in sex; he loves the blissful look you get with his finger(s) in your mouth while you ride him, and he loves how hard it makes you cum.

loves to give head, so you get the luxury of his lips on your body frequently, which in a roundabout way satisfies your craving.

likes receiving head, but mostly because of how much you enjoy it. sure, it feels fantastic, but he appreciates the intimacy of it more.

came up because you point blank asked if it was okay. he shrugged. “why not?” which quickly became, “oh. we’re doing this again.”

banner created by the lovely @cafekitsune.

Don't Ignore Me- Dabi x Fem Reader

A/N: Was originally written for @rougekithes was back when CW: mature themes, stalkery Dabi, kabedon Dabi style, dub-con, descriptive kissing, smoking ----

You probably should have been more aware that night. Probably should have been listening to the steady thud of the boots behind you because he sure wasn’t trying to cover up his footsteps. Instead you were to focused on the glow of your phone and taking slow drags from your cigarette. Letting the nicotine lovingly caress your lungs and shoot of shocks of endorphins through your system. Even with the stress relief you still managed to regularly cuss out the messages appearing in front of you.  

“Stupid, fucking…,” you muttered, probably a bit too loudly, because a choked back laugh sounded and that’s when you realized that those steady beats had been the noise of someone following you for close to twenty minutes.

God, you were dense. Your steps became less harried, but you didn’t stop instead you kept your phone in front of you and your eyes flicked to each side to take in your surroundings. Fuck, you were lost. How unlucky could you get? The one night some creep decides to follow you and you get so sucked into your friend’s misfortunate choices that you take a wrong turn into some seedy part of the city.            

“Don’t act like you don’t know I’m here, doll, it hurts my feelings,” the sweet tone to his voice was followed by a chuckle.

You didn’t engage, you couldn’t let yourself fall into his trap. But apparently your admirer…or stalker? Did not appreciate being ignored, because the next thing you knew you were being shoved up against the rough brick of a near by building, hands stopping your from falling face first against it and in the process losing your access to nicotine. All followed by the sound of a heavy palm slamming above you, causing your head to snap up to it.

“There we go, such beautiful eyes when they are wide and nervous, doll face,” his voice was gruff and rubbed across your senses tauntingly.

His breath feathered over your nape, and he scoffed, “Fragile little things like you shouldn’t be out at night on their own, you know? There are some nasty people in this part of town.”

His teeth nipped at your ear lobe, and you shuddered, though you couldn’t tell if it was from revulsion or from the heat coiling in your stomach. You turned your head just barely and when you met no resistance you shifted to your back.

The gaze that met yours was so impossibly blue, and a mix of dulled pain with a deepness that would drown you if weren’t careful. His skin seemed to be held together by staples and there were obvious seams where scars made his skin into patchwork designs. This man, you’d seen him on the news.            

“You’re…” you swallowed as his other hand came up to the side of your head.

You were scared, nervous, and burning hot in the way that made your thighs ache to rub together. He just radiated arrogance and power; it drew you in like a moth to his blue flames. You knew you’d burn alive as soon as you touched them, and sadly, you found your self-preservation slipping even more.

“What, little mouse? Who am I?” he grinned toothily, dull eyes sparking for a moment with sadistic pleasure.

“You’re the Blue Flame…,” you said with hitch in your breath.            

He clicked his tongue, “Yes, but you can call me Dabi. We are after all, about to get to know each other quite well, aren’t we?

You tilted your head, “Are we?”

His smirk was back, and he gripped your chin, “Oh, a bit of the brat is back, is she? That’s fine, I can take my time making you beg.”

He rubbed his thumb along your lower lip, dragging it down before lapping lightly at it with just the tip of his tongue, watching the entire time with those intense eyes. When your eyelids fluttered traitorously his lips pressed to yours, rolling and brushing against the softness of your skin. Teasing tiny touches, never pushing deeper and then when you whined, he responded by gripping the back of your neck tight, forcing your head to tilt up as he licked into your mouth when it fell open on a moan.

The stud on his tongue blazed a distracting path along your palate. And you could just barely keep up, because honestly you were still stuck on the fact that not only was this man a villain, and a big one. You also didn’t know him; and he’d been following you. Yet here you were, unable to do anything but whine and whimper into his mouth because he kissed like a fucking gift from god.

“Don’t worry, we got all night. And I plan to make use of every second.”            

Headcanon: Dating a black Bimbo

notes: Hey hey! English isn't my first language so sorry if it's not perfect!

synopsis: Just, what if Dabi and Shigaraki had a Black Bimbo girlfriend~

warning: fluff, nsfw, cursing, semi-public, degrading, dry humping, cock drunk, pussy drunk, breeding kink, reader is part of the lov.

Tomura Shigaraki

First of all, your relationship is a true definition of "opposites attract". Shigaraki is the quiet type and he's outstanding only when he has to. When you're bubbly, extravagant and kind of loud sometimes.

but somehow you both get together

he likes the way you dress, and even if he doesn't say it out loud, he still wonders why a girl like you would date him

"so how do I look ?"

he stares at you for so long without saying anything, you are way too hot for his poor brain "Take a picture it'll last longer~" you say with a smirk on your lips. "stfu. That skirt is way too short, you hoe." you stick your tongue out to him "yeah yeah, you like it though~"

when you started dating, due to his quirk. he was very uncomfortable with touching you.

but you're touch starved and you need his hands ALL. OVER. YOU.

so he bought some digital artist gloves, spending his time squeezing your waist, thighs and ass no matter if people are watching or not

he'll slides his hand between your thighs, lightly strocking your covered pussy.

he also likes to kiss your neck slowly going down reaching your deep-cut biting your perky nipples through your shirt

he LOVES when you get your nails done make it long af he loves it "next time you should do them in baby blue... it would suit you"

he will definitely pay for your nails.

if you take him shopping he will complain all day about how much he wants to go home to play video games

but if you want something, he'll pay for it.

"Baby, what do you think of this one ?" he lazily raises his head to look at you "You look like a whore" "okay I'll take this one then~"

once again Shigaraki loves your style so he doesn't mind if what you're wearing "too short" or "too revealing", he likes it

but if someone dare look at you in some disgusting ways, he'll decay them without thinking twice

Don't look at his girl like if she was a piece of meat.

Shigaraki is very possessive

he likes to have you close when there's a lot of people around

so you're often on his lap, even during meetings

but you're such a tease, always trying to get him hard when you're supposed to sit still

pretending to find a more comfortable way to sit as you just press his covered cock with your ass

but your actions have consequences

and Shigaraki is not the patient type.

at the second that the two of you will be alone, he'll bent you over any surfaces and shoves his hard penis inside of you

"Aw look at you" he cooed "you're moaning like a dumb slut on my cock~"

he'll go rough on you, making you moaning and screaming. letting everyone around earing you "that's it baby, scream my name let them know who you're belonging to~"

Dabi

From fuck buddies to lovers in blink of an eye

You get under this man skin ngl

He loves your style, that what's peak his interest in you, but now that you both are dating he can't stop noticing the looks of others on you.

Dabi takes any occasions he has to smack your ass and boobs

"Okay I'm leaving see you later baby" you say and he looks at you "not with that skirt. go change yourself" "wtf no! I love this skirt!" he sighs "babe, I can see your bright pink thong from where I am. it's not even covering you ass properly."

like this man will do it in public with a proud smile when you'll turn to look at him

"look baby I got some new nails~!" "you really do like scratching my back, ain't you~" "wha- ITS NOT ABOUT SEX !"

Dabi is not really fond of nails, like he doesn't like it when it's too long and he will never pay for it

but he will definitely pay for nipples piercings

"oh no... I've break one of my nails..." he smirks "oh no you'll not going to require my help to masturbate anymore~"

Dabi is possessive and oddly jealous

if he sees you speaking with an other guy he'll come calmly, grabbing you by the hips, backhugging you while sending death glares to the poor guy.

when the guy is gone, you'll look at him with a disapproval look "What ? At least he's alive."

he loves making sexual jokes obviously but there's those moments when he's looking at you for a short time and his only thought is "damn I love this girl..."

"You're really pretty you know that ?" he says, dragging you on his lap "where did that come from?" "shut up, just take the compliment"

He's really weak for your touch and when I say weak, it's an HEAVY "weak".

And sometimes no matter where you are, you'll be ending with him between your thighs, your legs wraps around him while he fucks you deep and hard against a wall

his lips busy biting your neck and giving you hickeys, holding back his moans

shhh... I know princess~" he whiper next to ears, biting you lobe lightly "But you have to keep it down, people will ear you~"

he'll keep fucking you, filling you with cum before letting you go "You're such a good girl~"

Then you'll both join the meeting like nothing happens

and he'll smirks like an ass seeing his seed slowly running down your thighs

note: I'm sorry if the NSF isn't good I'm not to write those in english :(

can’t stop thinking about dabi who’s so filled with pent up emotions - rage, relief, insanity, glee - after his identity reveal. and you are the conduit.

cw: no plot just brainrot, fem!reader, heavy breeding, minors burns/branding, dumbification, heavy overstimulation, fingering and oral (f!receiving), spanking, praise and degradation, possessiveness, voice kink, bait-and-switch where it seems like dubcon but is actually completely consensual tho??? also Dabi would be an amazing father don’t @ me

tagging: @gatoru @reveluving @dabislittlemouse and @nymphoheretic (who got the first version of this) <3

the second he and you escape from the warzone, the man has one, singular, burning thought and that is to breed you. he’s touya again and he needs show he’s a better partner and father than endeavor could ever dream of being.

which starts by fucking you full of his kids over and over and over again.

alive or not, he’s destroyed his father’s legacy and he’s ecstatic - more desperate and hungry than you’ve ever seen him. he can’t keep his hands and teeth off you, leaving little burn marks everywhere. his white hair is still wet and stuck to his face, his blue eyes are crazed; he’s absolutely animalistic.

“dabi-!” you can barely get the word out before he’s ripping fabric off of you; shirt, panties and all - getting singed in his still steaming hands. one hand sneaks to your chin and squeezes - your eyes are locked to his, the other hand already working two fingers into your hole.

��not my name, princess.”

“t-too fast dabi -”

he pries your jaw open and spits in your mouth - your form so shocked that you tremble and swallow it down without protest.

“now,” he kisses his teeth, “what the fuck do you call me? what’s my name?”

“t-toy-touya”

“good fucking girl.” he chuckles lowly, eyes impressed both at your obedience and the feeling of your gummy walls. “you’re already so tight on my fingers, baby.”

touya growls - god, he fucking adores this. you’re squirming at all the overwhelming feelings - twisting and jerking against the wall until you notice that he hasn’t even closed the door to your apartment.

“t-touya, someone could see-” you hiccup.

“let them, doll. let them see.” he purrs. you choke out a moan, his fingers already finding the most sensitive gooey spot inside you, causing your first climax of the night.

“all of japan knows me now, baby. so who’s gonna stop me? the police? the heroes? your shitty neighbors? who’s gonna stop me from fucking my girl full and getting her pregnant, hm?”

he lets out a dark laugh and if you weren’t so deeply in love with him - so paralyzed by his heated touch - you would find it scary. instead you can only find it arousing as he sinks to his knees in front of your completely nude, shaking form and sucks at your clit, tongue swiftly going past your folds.

sure, it feels good - so good you have to momentarily cover your mouth with a trembling hand to stop from babbling out for more. but it’s evident he doesn’t care about your pleasure right now as much as he does claiming you as his. he continues spanking and biting your thighs in between until you scream his name and try to push him off.

“t-touya too - much.” you whine, hand going away from your mouth to try and pry him away by his messy hair, the tips of which are still dark. his tongue rolls inside you, lips greedily sucking every inch of your slit and bud like a man possessed. you let out a broken noise. “touya, you gotta -”

your sentence met with a sharp slap.

“I don’t ‘gotta’ do anything doll. this is my pussy ain’t it? say it.” he looks up at you expectantly, your translucent juices dripping down his lips and chin.

“‘s your…” you whisper out, legs shaking so badly you think you’d fall if his strong hands weren’t holding you to the wall, digging into the fat of your thighs with a strangle hold.

“louder.” he spanks again.

“it’s your pussy, touya!”

“and that means only i decide when it’s had enough, got it? and i say it hasn’t. and you’re gonna let me, ain’t ya?”

“yes~” your consent comes out like a whisper, a hiss, but is it’s undeniable that you like him like this. a version of dabi touya that you’ve only seen glimpses of but just fall for deeper and deeper and deeper - others might call it insane but to you it’s intoxicating. the insanity, the need to have you - something about it drives you over the edge into another messy, babbling orgasm.

you love him. you love him. you love hi-

“shut your mouth and bite down on something.”

“b-bite down?” you question, swallowing deeply, pulled out of your thoughts. your fuzzy head stirs trying to understand his intentions as he hands you the balled up fabric of your previously discarded but still soaking wet panties.

“yeah. this is gonna hurt.” his smirks, a candle light amount of blue fire surrounding the tip of his index finger. you bite and scream into the cloth, tasting your own remaining juice, as the blue spark traces the letters “M I N E” into your outer thigh.

you’re crying and shaking from feeling such pain after climaxing back to back.

good.

he likes it like that.

he’s at least soft enough to kiss the scorching letters until they cool off with a coo of “good fucking girl” finally taking your partially delirious body to the bed and stroking your hair as he cradles you. you whine for more praise and confirmation.

“did g-good, dabi?”

“touya, remember? ‘nd yeah, baby. doing so good for me, doll. now, i’m gonna lie on the bed and you’re gonna ride that pretty pussy my cock until i say you’re full enough, got that?”

“yes.”

“yes who, little slut?”

“yes, touya.”

“good, pretty girl.”

he strips, which gives you a moment to catch your breath and he chuckles when he looks into your eyes absolutely maddened and obsessed with how you gasp at his size every single time.

“don’t worry, pretty. i’ll go nice and slow. sink into you bit by bit, counting to 10, yeah?” whimpering from overstimulation, you nod - innocent and trusting

-

he’s a liar.

dabi, touya - it doesn’t matter who he is, he’s a fucking liar.

the count he’d promised got to “two” before he shoved his fat cock all the way inside with a cackle.

“did you really believe i’d wait that long?” he teases, blue eyes taking you apart bit by bit as he slams his cock into you and you squirm, crying out his name

“touya! too deep!”

"i don't remember asking, baby," he replies. he buries himself into you to the base - pressing against your insides, so hard it aches.

“i'm gonna fill you up nice and full, knock you up like the good little bitch you are. you gonna take that f’r me? let me dump loads my cute tight little pussy?”

his shoulders and chest are heaving, he’s pushed your legs back and back and back until you’re in a mating press so he can slip his cock as deep in as it can go and back out wildly.

“gonna help me prove h’m wrong, yeah? gonna make me a daddy aren’t you dollface - i’ll be soft with ya when you do. i’ll be such a good fuckin’ daddy. you know that?”

“y-ye - touya - you’ll be a-amazing!” you really do think he would but even if you didn’t, you can’t think at all beyond saying what he wants to hear

“you’d be a good mommy to them. just like you’re such a good cumdumpster for me.”

your head is swimming, the residual heat of his quirk has you feeling like you’re going melt. how many times has he made you cum by now? you lost count after four and now he’s beating against your g-spot as you plead that it’s all too rough. your mind is so blank with him, him, him - how feral he looked fighting against his father and brother, the deep plea he made on camera to the whole nation and now this desperate, obsessed sex craze.

you’re at his mercy, plain and simple. your mouth is letting out hoarse pleas for him to slow down because all your neighbors can hear, you’re sure of it.

“let them hear. stop thinking about other people when i’m the one fucking this pussy. matter of fact - stop thinking, doll. you're not done until you're so full of my cum, you get pregnant," he growls in a voice unlike anything you'd ever heard him use. but fuck if it doesn't make you clench around him, which only makes him laugh at you.

“if i had known you wanted to be a little breeding slut for me before, i would have been filling you properly every night! fuck what they hear. they’ve heard my voice all day. they get to hear me breed you.”

“touya~”

“oh you like the sound of that don’t you? well then let them hear. scream for me. who’s the only man that fucks this pussy full?”

“touya! ‘s you touya! ‘m your cumslut!” you wail into another climax. touya pauses as you spasm around him, pussy walls sucking the cum from him with a long groan.

his hand is finally gentle against you, thumbing the tears and lips tenderly kissing your face.

“don’t worry. ‘ll be nice and soft with you once the little tyke is in your tummy, doll. all you have to do is stand what i put you through now.” he coos.

“i wouldn’t really hurt you the lady i love - i’m not him. you’ve been so good taking care of me this long while i waited to destroy him. thought i was gonna die today, you know that? now i get to live and be with you and our little ones. y’know i love you, right doll?”

your fifth (or maybe it’s been closer to seventh?) orgasm has made you a mess of tears but touya rarely says ‘i love you’ and something about being free of his disguise makes it seem like he’ll say it more often now. you manage to whisper out;

“i love you too touya… g’ve me your baby.”

he smiles and pounds in, fucking the sloppy loads of white back into you.

“say it again.”

“‘w-want your babies~”

“again!” he growls, hands closing in on your neck as he fucks you so hard the bed creaks and you think it might break - or at least you would if you had the ability to think beyond his orders.

you say it over and over like a mantra as he kisses you and makes sure you hold in his cum, dick creamy with white from fucking in load after load.

“that’s a good mommy. you’re gonna grow so nice with daddy’s kids. my fucking little breeding hole.”

when he’s finally, finally done? you’re an absolute mess and he adores the sight. you’re crying and hiccuping, legs shaking as white fluid pools inside you before he shoves it back in with his fingers.

“stay open for me, cutie. someone’s a happy little cumslut huh?” dabi smirks and he gives you one last spank.

“touya” you sob out and he kisses you softly.

“I’m here doll. that’ll keep you good and stuffed. ‘ll clean you up nice and soft in the morning hm? right now you’re gonna sleep full of my cum and all marked as mine.”

you drift to sleep, no energy left, only able to hear the sound of his phone turning on because he can’t help but snap a few pictures and videos of his “masterpiece.”

𝐈 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧' 𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐝𝐞...

"𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡?"

"𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞."

"𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭."

"𝐍𝐨, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐞."