My friend just told me, straight to my face, that I'm gross for liking Shigaraki. Straight up went "ewww seriously?" and I wasn't even offended. I found that hilarious. sometimes I forget he was first introduced as a crusty ass loser who loves to game
Keigo with female reader who a bit jealous of the fact that some fans are being too flirty.
Smut/Comfort Fluff
✎ 18+ minors dni, established relationship, jealousy, fem bodied reader, use of the term girlfriend, comfort, make up sex, soft hawks, fingering, p in v, creampie, aftercare, slight angst, fluff
Hawks thinks you're being petty by ignoring him like this.
After tackling seemingly endless piles of paperwork and being worked to the bone by the commission the entire day, he returns home hoping to relieve the accumulated stress in your embrace and enjoy a nice home cooked meal. Instead, he comes back to see you sulking on the couch, cheeks puffed and arms crossed, refusing to acknowledge him for even a second without providing a reason as to why.
He had poked and prodded and asked and nearly about to force an answer out of you. He was trained his entire life to know how to read people and get what he wants but you were a different kind of stubborn. The kind that includes being patient enough to tolerate your silent treatment.
"If you won't tell me what I did, I can't fix it, dove." Exasperated, he runs a hand down his face after asking what he did for the nth time that night.
You keep your arms crossed, averting your gaze from his without hesitation.
These episodes happened often, occurrences where he'd have to tiptoe on glass shards and figure out what had upset you like he was supposed to be a master at reading your mind. After a few months of dating, he has gotten better at the mind games but he knew it was a losing game either way.
He'd try to guess, you would give him nothing to base his assumptions off, and it would either escalate into a fight or a night with him sleeping on the guest bed or the couch.
The stress weighed heavily on his body, muscles aching from the strain of hero work but he pushes all of it aside in favor of finally receiving an answer, anything, from you.
Reaching over, his fingers brushed against your arm, "Dove, please. Look at me?"
Knuckles ghost over your cheeks, featherlight and fleeting, warmth permeating through his gloves and it shakes your resolve.
Finally, your gaze meets his and his brow furrow in concern when he sees your puffy eyes and dried tear streaks on your cheeks. You had cried and something twists in his chest.
"What happened while I was gone?"
"You happened." You all but snap at him, voice sharp and tense.
Keigo tries to rack his brain for anything he could've done today that might have upset you this much. He's seen you cry before, held your trembling body in more ways than one, and sure he likes seeing your tears but only when beneath the sheets. Only when your tears are accompanied by your pretty moans caused by him and him alone.
After trying and failing to think of what he could've done, he sighs and turns his body to face you fully. Hands come up to gently cradle your face, making you look at him.
"Dove," He starts, thumbs carefully wiping away stray tears. "I want to fix this. I want you to feel better. So, can you please tell me what I did to make you upset?"
Finally meeting his gaze, you silently debate whether or not to tell him.
"Remember when I brought you lunch earlier today?" You hesitantly ask. He nods in response.
You fold your arms in your lap, deliberating whether to continue or let it simmer inside and deal with it on your own. But the concern in his eyes makes you waver.
A deep breath, you continue. "I didn't leave right away. I saw you." Your breath hitches, recalling the memory feels like being choked. "Some women tried clinging to you and I saw one of them kiss you on the cheek. I just-- I couldn't... I know I shouldn't be jealous. Fan interactions are part of the job-- You're loved by everyone and I'm just..."
The tremble in your voice breaks something in him, hitting right at his heart.
"You're not just anything, dove. You're my girlfriend. My everything." He leans in to peck you on the lips, "I'm sorry. I should've done something to stop them."
Before you could reply, he pressed a kiss to your cheek. "But always remember," then on the tip of your nose. "You're mine." Temple. "My girlfriend." Just below your left eye. "My precious baby bird." Then finally on your forehead. "And the only woman I love."
He pulls back enough to look at you with a soft smile and a loving look in his eyes, enough to make you melt in his hold.
" 's not fair," You pout.
"what's not fair, baby?" His voice is soft, the chuckle fading into something gentler.
You pull back just enough and he lets go. Hands clench into fists in your lap, not enough to hurt, just something to ground you. "I'm supposed to be mad at you..."
He reaches out again and brushes a thumb across your cheek. “Then let me make it up to you."
The hand on your cheek slides down to your chin, making you look at him directly. "Let me take care of my sweet girl."
Tears streamed down your cheeks, kissed away by Hawks with soft shushes and gentle touches.
He caressed your body with reverence, pressing kisses wherever he can reach, whispers of praise ringing in your ears as his fingers slowly brought you to the precipice of yet another orgasm.
Lips trail up your sternum, pressing open mouthed kisses on the column of your neck.
"How does it feel, dove? Good?" He smiles in the crook of your neck, hearing your breath hitch as his fingers once again reach your sweet spot. He angles his wrist, hitting the same spot again and again, earning your sweet moans.
With his free hand, he cups the swell of your breast, thumb lightly pressing on the hardened nipple.
The coil in your stomach wrings tighter, back arching into his chest. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry, coming undone on his fingers.
He doesn't stop his movements, prolonging your pleasure, coaxing every last tremor from your body. "So pretty," He murmurs against your skin.
Then he leans in, claiming your mouth with his, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment. His lips are warm, moving against yours with a hunger.
You melt into him, the kiss deepening, his hand cradling the back of your neck. He pulls back a sliver, breath mingling with yours, "You ready for me, baby?"
He pushes himself off you and sits back on his heels, slowly stroking himself. Hooded eyes drink you in, not just with lust but pure reverent awe, like he still can’t believe you’re really here, laid bare for him like this.
"You’re unreal," he whispers, his hands running down the underside of your thighs, fingers gently digging into the flesh and spreading you open for him. "And so, so perfect."
Your skin prickles under the weight of his gaze, warmth pooling in your chest, deeper than the ache between your legs. You reach for him, "Come back," and he moves closer, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck.
He leans forward, kissing you softly. " 'm not going anywhere, dove."
The truth in his words reverberates, an absolute, a promise. You hold his gaze, letting the silence stretch, not the kind that's uncomfortable or awkward but the kind that's filled with everything left unsaid but wordlessly understood.
You thread your fingers in his hair, blonde tufts curling in your hold. "I love you."
He lines himself up at your entrance, gliding the tip through your slick folds. "I love you most," He pushes in slowly, inch after inch, muscles flexing with the strain of restraint for your sake. "More than I ever thought I could, dove."
A shuddering sigh escapes him, propping himself on his forearms, framing you beneath him. "And it scares me."
Golden eyes meet yours in a silent exchange, every flicker of emotion behind them echoing the feelings piling within him that he could never learn to put into words. So he does the next best thing he can think of to express himself.
He kisses you. Slow, deep, and deliberate. Not just a kiss, but a confession of longing. His lips linger like a promise, moving against yours in a slow, gentle rhythm.
He tests the waters while you're distracted, pulling back nearly all the way before slowly driving his hips back, pressing against your own, tip nudging right at your cervix.
You pull back with a gasp, the hand in his hair tugging a little roughly, making him groan.
"Careful, angel, I just had my hair done yesterday, remember?"
Despite the light warning, he doesn't really mind if you pull at his hair so long as he can feel you and have you close.
Hawks places one hand at your hip, firmly grasping the plump flesh and angling your hips a little higher. His other hand braces against the headboard to anchor himself as he starts moving more steadily, thrusting in slow, deep strokes, letting you feel every inch of him.
Every thrust feels deliberate, he's not just chasing his pleasure, he's giving it, making sure you're floating with your head in the clouds and he won't stop until he's made sure of that.
"You feel like heaven," he breaths between thrusts, flushed skin warm against yours.
You drag your nails down his back, breath hitching when he angles his hips to hit deeper. "Feels s-so good, baby. Don't stop,"
"yeah? Don't worry," He leans down to cup your breast in his hand, gently kneading. " 'm not stopping 'til I've apologized properly." A kiss is pressed between the valley of your breasts before he sucks a mark on the skin there. "Not until I make sure you're satisfied."
He picks up the pace, thrusting into you with more fervor than before, hitting that spongy spot with each stroke, rewarding him with your sweet moans that sound like music to his ears.
"Kei--! I'm close," You try to say but end up moaning, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Nails dig crescent marks into his back, a mark of your pleasure etched on his skin that he's proud to wear.
"Let go, baby. Cum on my cock, just like that." He takes your leg with one hand, slinging it over his shoulder to reach deeper.
You come undone with a scream of his name, writhing beneath him. He watches you with a breathy curse, silently wishing he had his phone right now but settles with imprinting the mental image of how gorgeous you looked as you cum on his cock.
He doesn't stop, chasing his own high now. Thighs tremble on either side of him as overstimulation settles in. With a few more thrusts, he buries himself to the hilt, cumming inside you, thick, hot spurts, painting your insides white.
The air is thick with the remnants of what you just shared, sweaty bodies pressed together without an inch to spare. And before you can think to move, Keigo wraps his arms around you, trailing kisses all over your face before finally, your lips. The kiss is more of a peck than anything, but it doesn't stop there. He pepcks you again, and again, and again. Each kiss was followed by a quick "love you".
You lost count of how many times he kisses you but you eagerly kiss back, not wanting to lose his warmth.
When he finally decides to pull back, he's grinning, face flushed from the earlier exertion and probably from the giddy feeling bubbling in his chest.
He caresses your cheek in one hand, "How are you feeling, dove?"
"I'm okay," You lean into his touch, closing your eyes. "I feel better than before."
A smile dons his lips, so soft and caring, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. "That's good." He leans forward for another kiss, on your forehead this time. "Stay here, okay? I'll fetch a towel and some water for you."
He pulls out with a slight wince, hands on your hips, giving you a quick pat before hopping off the bed, quicker than you can bring yourself to say something.
It happens quickly. He comes back with a towel to help clean you, handing you a glass of w ater and a chocolate bar he had kept in the fridge for you to snack on whenever you feel like it.
Now he has you sitting on his lap, back to his chest as he threads his fingers through your hair, untangling knots as he does.
You munch on the chocolate, the sweetness melting on your tongue with each bite though it's nothing compared to the whispers of sweet nothings from your boyfriend. It makes you feel shy, a flustered mess in his hands and how he loves it.
"I'm sorry about what happened, dove." He murmurs into your hair, sounding genuinely remorseful. "I promise it won't happen again."
You twist in his hold, enough to look up at him, "It's okay. As long as you keep your promise."
He nods, then raises a hand to wipe at the chocolate stain at the corner of your lips. "Promise." The taste makes him hum, licking the remnants from his thumb. "I'll even bring you with me next time. Make sure you're standing by my side. Maybe kiss you in front of them and the cameras so everyone knows," He boops you on the nose, "That you're my baby bird."
You blink. Then a giggle forms in your chest before you can stop it. The sound has his heart doing flips.
The giggles die down and you look at him again, with a brighter smile. "Only if you make a show out of it."
"You're talking to Hawks, dove. The Hawks. Of course I'm making a show out of it!"
✎ cw: 18+ minors dni, dubcon/noncon, baby trapping, toxic relationship, physical and verbal abuse, slight misogyny, yandere themes, use of slut/whore/bitch/dolly/plaything, fem bodied reader (fem pronouns used), dabi replacing pills with vitamins, dacryphilia, sadist dabi, oral (m!receiving), deep throat, cockwarming, light voyeurism, choking, branding (dabi burns you), p in v, creampie, breeding kink, implied free use & threesome, overstim, hair pulling, somno, not beta read
✎ 5.4k words
✎ dont know why i wrote this, kinda self indulgent. i'm considering writing a part 2 with hawks
Dabi never knocked. Not on your door. Not once in the past year you've known him.
Not since you gave him a spare key to your apartment, unaware that he had already gone ahead and made a duplicate months before you ever thought about allowing him into your home.
The lock clicks and the door swings slowly. He steps inside like he always does, heavy boots thudding against the floor. The apartment smells faintly of your favorite perfume, the same one Dabi had chosen for you a while back. You continued using it since then, something he appreciated quietly through actions rather than words.
He expected to see you curled up on the couch, maybe listening to music with earbuds in or humming something soft and innocent. You did love listening to songs that evoked more emotions than body rhythm. Some days together were spent lounging on the couch as you introduce him to another artist you found while looking for new songs.
Though, instead of a warm welcome, and a sweet greeting he was used to, he was met with the full force of your palm, hitting hard against his cheek.
His head turns with the hit, black bangs sweeping across his eyes. For a moment, he doesn't move. He stays for a few seconds, cheek faintly red and he can vaguely taste a tangy metallic liquid from where his staples caught on his skin. The silence unnerved you, a feeling of dread pooling in your gut but you clench your fists in an attempt to stay composed.
Finally, Dabi slowly turns to look at you, expression unreadable but something flickers in his eyes for a brief moment.
“That's one way to greet me,” He says, voice flat and dry. A hand touches his cheek like it's more of an inconvenience than anything. “What’d I do this time?"
You blink, incredulous at his indifference. He’s looking at you the way someone might regard a sulking child.
Taking a breath to compose yourself, you finally confront him. “Did you replace my pills?”
His expression doesn’t change. He kicks the door shut behind him with the heel of his boot and shrugs off his jacket, draping it lazily over the back of the chair like this is just another evening. He doesn't even look at you as he makes his way towards the kitchen.
You follow him, entering the kitchen and finding him bent over the fridge, searching for something. The nonchalance frustrates you, how could he act so calmly when you were absolutely fuming. He didn't even so much as blink at the accusation you threw his way. Granted, he wasn't one to react about most things but this was a serious matter and you had hoped he wouldn't just brush it off.
“So what?” He finally spares you a glance, glass in hand as he pours from a jug of ice cold water.
You stare at him, stunned.
“So what..? So what?!” You repeat, voice cracking. “That's all you have to say? You lied to me, Dabi! You violated my trust! Do you even get how fucked up that is?!”
You lunged the bottle of pills at him, hitting him square in the chest. It falls hard on the floor, lid tipping and spilling its contents over the tiles. “You replaced my pills with vitamins. Did you seriously think I wouldn't notice? That I wouldn't taste the fucking difference?!”
Dabi regards you with indignation, nearly rolling his eyes at what he perceives as another one of your tantrums all because he didn't tell you a decision he saw as a necessary call. It was for your sake, how stupid are you to not see that simple fact?
“What if I had gotten pregnant?!”
“Then you’d be pregnant,” He replies smoothly, almost like a threat as he drinks the water he poured earlier. “Or you wouldn’t be. Either way, you’re staying.”
You brows furrow at his words, taking an instinctive step back. “What?”
Hands finally free, he wipes the condensation on his pants before properly facing you.
He tilts his head as if you're the one not making sense, “Did you think I wouldn't notice you were planning on leaving?”
The room shifts, a weight suddenly pressing down on your shoulders as your throat tightens. How did he know? You made sure to be discreet about it. And even though you did plan on leaving and moving someplace else to get away from him, it wasn't like that was your final plan. Even if Dabi could be cruel, mean, manipulative, and emotionally unavailable at times, you still loved him. So you wanted to give him one last chance before disappearing.
But you didn't think he'd catch on this quickly.
“I saw your suitcase last week,” Dabi continues, voice dropping lower. “Half-packed. Real subtle, by the way. You’d wait until I was gone and stuff things under your bed. Real cute.”
You stand your ground, trying to keep the trembling at bay lest you want him gaining the upper hand and letting him believe he has control over you.
He does. He knows. But to him it was more fun to let you think you have a choice.
He lets the silence stretch for a minute before finally taking a step closer. “The only reason I let you keep taking those contraceptives this long,” He bends slightly, hands braced on your shoulders, locking you in place. “..was because I didn’t want you running away. Less of a hassle if you're willingly staying.”
He's so close. Close enough for you to smell the scent of nicotine in his breath, causing you to scrunch your nose and look away.
“But if you wanna act like a brat?” His voice lowers, one hand gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Then I’ll keep you chained somewhere else.”
“Is that supposed to scare me?” You snap at him, leveling him with a glare holding so much malice he's surprised you hadn't looked at him that way before. “You think I’ll just roll over and let you control me?”
“No,” He chuckled in response, finding your bite amusing. “I think you’ll fight. You’re good at that.”
He lifts the hand holding your chin, releasing you from his hold, not to strike you, but to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. What was meant to be an endearing gesture felt more like a threat and a reminder than an act of affection. He feels the tension in your body and he can't help but find it adorable.
“That’s what I like about you.” He praises in a softer voice, hooded eyes staring into yours, laced with something dark and possessive.
“You don’t like me,” You scoff, words sharp and shaking. “You like owning me, asshole.”
“The mouth on you when you're angry.” He tuts, clicking his tongue as though he's scolding a kid, a condescending sound that only fuels your fury. “A lady shouldn't talk like that.”
You swat his hands away, steeling your resolve before taking a step back to make some distance. Dabi stands there, amused as if waiting to see what you'd do next.
“Get out.”
He raised a brow at that, arms folded across his chest, looking down at you, challenging and unbothered. Daring you to say it again.
So you do.
With the last of your courage, you tell him to get the fuck out.
The silence that follows is thick, long enough to sting with hope that he might listen. But Dabi never listened, not unless he wanted to.
When he unfolded his arms, you thought he might relent and finally leave but just then, his hand connected with your cheek. A sharp, brutal slap. The sound echoes through the apartment, and the force sends you stumbling, hitting the floor before you can fully process what happened. Your vision spins, nausea overcoming your senses as bile rises in the back of your throat. He returned your slap from before with one of his own, though he had struck you harder.
Tears welled up in your eyes instantly, not just from the pain, but from the shock, the betrayal and the sharp confirmation of everything you feared. The metallic tang of blood pools in your mouth. You spit it out, red streaks staining the floor beneath you as your body shook. From fear or anger, you couldn't tell anymore.
Dabi crouches beside you. “I told you,” he says coldly, fingers sliding up the nape of your neck and threading through your hair. “A lady shouldn’t talk like that.”
He jerks your head up, forcing your eyes to meet his, and a cruel smirk greets you. “Who taught you to talk like a whore?” he sneers, voice laced in mockery. “Was it Ayato? Or maybe that friend of yours from work? Don't think I don't know how you sneak around, frolicking with other men like a damn slut.”
His grip in your hair tightens, earning a sharp cry from you and a few tears streaming down your cheeks. “Actin’ like a bitch in heat. Be grateful I still want you.”
The sting lingers even after he lets go, a throbbing ache in your scalp. He smooths his hand down your hair, untangling strands as he goes before patting you on the head as if he hadn't just threatened and physically hurt you seconds prior. The gesture felt more like a taunt, mockery hidden beneath his fickle mood.
Dabi stands up and makes his way towards the worn couch, floorboards creaking under heavy boots. The cushions shift under his weight, clothes shuffling and you hear the distinct sound of a belt buckle being undone, a feeling of dread washing over you at what's to come. The silence only made it worse, his grunt and lazy call of your name made it all the more deafening when his eyes landed on you. Waiting.
Your cheek is swollen, red and bruising from the force of his hand. Dabi liked getting physical in bed, manhandling, some choking, and pinning you against the mattress but he had never struck you outside the bedroom before. The fact that he's expecting you to please him right after is a blow to your dignity, your pride. The ego he had been consistently stepping on and you just failed to notice until now.
He watches you, a predatory gaze leaving you feeling helpless. How could you forget?
He's a villain.
Against your better judgement, despite the last shred of your self-respect screaming at you to bolt, make a run for it, you stayed. Not that Dabi would’ve let you get far, anyway. If anything, he’d relish the chase, letting you think you had a head start just to hunt you down like a game. A twisted, thrilling game of cat and mouse.
So you obey his silent command. Like a moth to a flame, an ant seduced by the promise of sweetness. Just a pitiful little thing, clinging to the hope of mercy where there’s none.
You settle between his spread legs, fists clenched in your lap as you finally tilt your head to look at him. His grin is unsettling, the look of a man who had finally gotten what he wanted, like a reward well earned. The look of a man who’s waited, hunted, and now, finally, has exactly what he wanted.
“I like you better on your knees. You look prettier like this.” He reaches out to pat you again, sliding his hand to the back of your head, guiding you forward with deliberate pressure. "Go on. Unless you'd rather have both cheeks swollen to match."
You make quick work of his boxers, he’d already stripped off everything else in the way after all. You swallow thickly, throat dry with anticipation and nerves, his cock standing proud as you pull down his boxers. The familiar glint of his prince Albert and Jacob's ladder piercings catching the light, no less intimidating now than the first time you saw them.
You’re no stranger to intimacy with Dabi, not in the physical sense. You’ve seen and felt his cock before, known the weight of his body against yours with barely an inch to spare. And yet, for all the closeness, there’s always been a chilling absence of true intimacy. Just heat without warmth. And you doubt you'd ever be given the chance to experience it after tonight.
You shift closer, hands trembling slightly as you wrap them around the base, feeling the cool press of metal against your palm. He hisses through his teeth, a sound low and satisfied, as if your hesitation only adds to his pleasure.
You steady yourself, leaning in, lips parting as you take him into your mouth slowly at first, cautious, adjusting to the piercings you’ve long since grown familiar with but never fully comfortable around. The weight of him, the sharp glint of metal, the heat, it all hits at once, and still, you keep going. You let him fill your mouth, inch by inch, until your eyes water and your pride crumbles.
“Fuck… that's it, doll.” He breathes, exhaling when the tip finally hits the back of your throat. You feel the way your body tightens instinctively, throat constricting around him, and he groans, hand tightening in your hair. “Knew you'd come around. You always do.”
He rests heavy on your tongue, and you prepare yourself to move but he holds your head in place, forcing you to deep throat and cockwarm him with your mouth. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, spilling down your cheeks as the desperate need for oxygen claws at your throat.
“Stay still. Move and I'll burn my handprint on your ass.”
The threat freezes you in place, eyes closing in an attempt to distract yourself. Anything but look at him.
Satisfied for now, Dabi reaches into the pocket of his pants, fishing out his phone. The screen lights up with a tap, messages from Shigaraki he ignored on the daily greets him. And a few more just hours earlier. He scrolls past them with practiced indifference, searching for one contact in particular: Hawks.
The dial tone picks up. It rings thrice before a familiar voice cuts through the line, chiding him, half-annoyed and amused.
Dabi puts the call on speaker, Hawks’ voice echoing in the quiet apartment, silent except for the faint sound of your muffled choking.
“I thought we had an agreement,” Hawks said, his voice taut, barely audible over the blare of traffic and distant voices. “You’re not supposed to contact me like this unless it’s an emergency.”
Dabi’s low chuckle crackled through the line. “It is an emergency.”
The camera flipped on, shifting to frame you in its lens. His voice dropped, laced with something darker. “I’ve got a sweet little plaything here who could use some… expert guidance.”
A breathy fuck comes from the other line as Hawks sees the scene before him. You between Dabi’s legs, obediently keeping him warm. Your eyes shimmer with unshed tears, cheeks flushed from effort and heat, defiance still clearly written all over your face. And fuck if he didn't like putting sluts in their place.
Dabi’s fingers thread lazily through your hair, a smirk playing on his lips. “Told you it was urgent,” he murmurs, not looking at the camera. “My dolly is learning so well. Thought you might want a front-row seat.”
“I thought you don't like to share.” Hawks says, hesitation lacing his voice. His gaze lingers on the screen, feeling conflicted. “Last we spoke… you called her your girlfriend.”
Dabi shrugs casually, free hand coming up to caress your cheek, thumb brushing just below your eyes and catching a few stray tears. “Yeah, well. She forgot how to behave.” He brings his thumb to his lips, licking the salty tears. “We're having a refresher course.”
He reaches back down again, strokes your cheek almost gently, making you flinch. “She’s learning a lot. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”
Hawks stiffens on the other end of the line, his expression unreadable. “You call that love?”
“Funny question, coming from the guy who bails when shit gets messy.” Dabi deadpanned, exhaling in annoyance. “Just get your ass here while I'm still in the mood to share, birdbrain.”
The call ends unceremoniously, tossed against the couch cushions without care of where it'll land. Fingers threading through your hair, you're pulled back and off of him, leaving you in a sputtering, coughing mess with dried tear streaks on your cheeks and puffy eyes. Your throat burns, can vaguely taste him on your tongue as you desperately breathe in the oxygen you need.
His chuckle only adds insult to injury, amusement fueling the growing pit of anger mixed with fear in your gut. But acting up now would only earn you more than the painful slap from earlier, and you'd rather survive this with all your limbs intact.
“On all fours, princess. Now.” A hand on your forearm, he hauls you up onto the couch without much care. The shirt you're wearing is quickly pulled off and discarded.
With a hand behind your neck, he shoves your face into the cushions and pulls your ass up, forcing you to arc painfully in his hold. Scarred hands trail up your sides, sending shivers down your spine. You brace yourself, expecting selfish, brutal treatment, expecting him to bury his cock in you and chase his pleasure without caring for your own.
But instead, he plants his hands on your hips, firmly pressing into your flesh, hard enough to leave marks.
Then the heat begins. On your left side, low at first, then rising fast. It sears into your skin like an iron, the smell of burning flesh thick in the air.
“You thought I'd just fuck you, didn't you? Just bend you over and be done with it?” Dabi growls next to your ear, hands still burning his handprint on your skin.
A sob tears from your throat. Tears spilling freely, soaking into the cushions below. Your eyes squeeze shut, fingers digging into the throw pillow in a desperate search for something to hold onto. Breath hitching in broken sobs as the burn sears deeper, Dabi was branding more than just your skin.
“Cry all you want. You’re still going to take it.”
You're trembling, wracked with the sting of pain and the weight of helplessness under his mercy.
Then you feel it, his fingertip, searing hot much like the hand that branded you, dragging slowly against your skin as he carves a path down your back. The pain has you choking on your own gasps, breathless, but he still doesn't relent. Then you realize, he's tracing letters. His name on your body. A reminder, a permanent mark of him meant to remind you of who you belong to.
Eyes wide, you look over your shoulder, silently pleading, voice cracking through sobs. “Stop… please, Dabi… it hurts, I can't–”
“You can't?” Dabi only chuckles, low and mocking. His fingers slip down, dipping into the waistband of your shorts and grazing slick heat between your thighs. “That so? ‘cause I can feel you dripping down here, doll.”
He leans in close, his chest pressing on your back, breath hot against your ear. “Your mouth's saying no but your body's begging for it like a sweet little masochist. I'm starting to think you like pain.”
You shake your head, but the words won't come, only more tears, more shaking, as he drags his fingers back and forth, proof of your body's betrayal in every wet sound that follows.
“See?” he whispers. “You’re already ready for me.”
You're thrown on your back with a sharp gasp. In one fluid, ruthless motion, your shorts and panties are yanked down, stripped away and tossed aside the growing pile of your clothes alongside your shame and the last threads of your dignity.
You lay bare before him and he drinks it in, eyes raking down your body, predatory in its gaze, observing its prey.
He grips the underside of your thighs, fingers digging into soft flesh, and spreading you open. Any attempt to pry yourself away from his grasp is met with a squeeze and a warm sting from his quirk, a reminder and a threat.
The raw sting of his handprint and the letters scorched into your back flare with fresh agony as your body arches reflexively, a cry escaping before you can swallow it down. It burns. The way it grinds against the rough fabric of the cushions has tears prickling the corner of your eyes.
The man above you watches it all with delight, amusement glinting in his eyes. His gaze devours every twitch, tear, and broken sob like it’s a reward. He leans in close, weight pressing you deeper into the cushions, grinding the pain in further.
You try to push him away, trembling hands feebly pushing at his chest. “No more. Please.. Dabi, it hurts! M-my back,”
“It’s supposed to.” he says, indifferent to the pain you're suffering through. “You’ll remember it every time you move. See it every time you look in the mirror.”
He sits on his heels, stroking himself with a soft hiss. “Remember me whenever it stings. And maybe then,” You feel the tip of his cock right at your entrance, hovering as cerulean eyes stare into yours. “You'll think twice before trying to leave me.”
He shoves it all in one go, splitting you open, forcing you to take every inch without prep, taking your breath away. Your back arches, the burn from his name grinding into the cushions beneath you, amplifying everything. You're gasping and trembling, a mess of pain and pressure and panic.
He drops down onto his forearms, elbows braced on either side of your head. For a moment he stays still, just breathing you in, your tight, trembling warmth wrapped around him like a vice.
“Fuck,” he growls followed by a breathless laugh, “you feel perfect like this. So tight like you were made to take me.”
You feel so full. You always do when you're having sex with Dabi, but it was never like this. Never full of pain and humiliation and fear. The stream of tears flows, unable to stop yourself from crying out in both shame and pleasure as he starts moving, sharp and hard thrusts right from the start.
He doesn't allow you a moment to adjust to his size, much less the chance to feel comfortable with the feel of his piercings scraping inside your gummy walls with each punishing thrust. The metal scrapes and catches on the soft, sensitive flesh inside you, sending sharp pulses of sensation that blur the line between pain and something worse.
You cry out, legs trembling in his grip, but he only tightens his hold, forcing your thighs wider, nearly folding you in half.
Dabi drives his hips with fervor, damp fringes clinging to his forehead, sweat glistening along the sharp angles of his face. Skin flushed from the exertion, breaths coming out in ragged bursts, heat radiating off his skin as he moved with desperation. His body is hot to the touch and you had since given up trying to push him off you, pleasure soon clouding your mind and body.
Each drag of his cock sends you further down, dragging you with him to the depths of ecstasy, regardless of your willingness.
Dabi props himself on one hand, hooded eyes drinking you in with a smug look on his face. “Finally giving in?” He drawls, free hand trailing upward to cup the swell of your breast, calloused fingers kneading the soft flesh. “All you needed was a big cock and a good fucking to set you straight, huh?”
“ ‘m sorry..” The words barely come out as a whisper, soft and low he almost didn't hear it.
He echoes your words, “You’re sorry? You weren't sorry when you were secretly packing up your stuff.” His thumb lazily flicks at your nipple, hips slowing down to deep, hard strokes. “You weren't sorry when you met up with that perverted prick behind my back.”
His hand finds purchase at your throat, fingers pressing lightly at the sides of your neck. Not constricting just yet but it's enough to instill obedience. Instinctively, you grab at his wrist with both hands, fingernails scratching at the scarred skin and drawing blood but it does nothing to deter him.
His pain receptors were already fucked, no matter what you throw at him, scratching or otherwise, he wouldn't even feel it anyway.
“You weren't sorry when you slapped me earlier. Otherwise we wouldn't be here.” He applies pressure on your throat, the weight of his palm firm and unforgiving.
Your breath catches, panic flickering in your chest, eyes rolling back at the continued lack of oxygen in your lungs. With the last of your strength, your hold on his wrist tightens, nails digging into his skin to free yourself but to no avail.
Dabi doesn't stop moving. His pace picking up, merciless and unrelenting, uncaring of whether or not you can keep up with him. A crooked grin plays on his lips as he watches the tears stream down your flushed cheeks, enjoying the sight of you beneath him, shaking, undone, and still so tight around him it nearly drives him mad.
“You break so pretty,” he mutters against your ear, voice low and ragged. “Don’t go quiet on me now, doll.”
He talks to you tauntingly, not exactly expecting a reply because he still has his hand on your throat.
You grip what you can get your hands on other than Dabi’s wrist, trying to anchor yourself as his fingers finally ease their hold, but his hand stays there, thumb brushing the rapid pulse beneath it. Every thrust pulls you closer to the edge, the coil wounding tighter in your core against your will.
Dabi groans, hips stuttering as he feels you clench around him. “You close, baby? Go on, I want to feel you cum on my cock.”
The tension in your core unravels in a blinding wave of white-hot pleasure, crashing through you with a force that steals the air from your lungs. You cry out, loud and broken, coming undone as your walls flutter around him, clenching with every pulse of pleasure that rips through you.
He curses under his breath, the control he's been holding on to slipping as he drives into you harder and deeper, chasing his own high. His hand moves from your throat to your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks, tilting your face towards him so he can watch every flicker of bliss in your expression.
Then with a few more thrusts, he buries himself to the hilt with a deep guttural groan, spilling inside you in thick, hot spurts, painting your insides white.
Relief washes over you, eyes fluttering close with a soft exhale at the prospect of finally being given a moment of reprieve. But it's fleeting, slipping away like a rug yanked from beneath your feet. As if a second of rest would be asking for too much.
Dabi's hips move again, pulling out nearly all the way before slamming back in.
You choke on a gasp, “W-wait, ‘s too much..!”
Deep, hard thrusts send waves of unforgiving pleasure thrumming through your body, fogging your mind in a haze, eyes glossing over as the prickling feeling of overstimulation settles. Your toes curl and nails dig into his back as Dabi drives his hips into yours repeatedly, each wet sound echoing in the living room space. A white ring forms at the base of his cock, the remnants of his first load spilling with each thrust.
It all feels too much, too soon, already feeling yourself hurtling towards another orgasm faster than you can comprehend. His hand slips between you, easily finding your clit with skilled hands as he watches you unravel before him. And only for him.
“Look at you,” He exhales in shaky breaths, a smirk playing on his lips. “We've barely even started and it looks like I've already fucked you dumb, huh sweetheart?”
A whine is all the response he receives, your eyes closing and moaning with each punishing thrust of his hips.
“Don't think we're anywhere near finished, hm,” He leans down, bodies tangling together without an inch to spare. Hot lips press open mouthed kisses along your collarbone, trialing up your jaw. “You lied to me. Betrayed my trust. You were planning on leaving me.”
His noses at the hollow where your neck meets shoulder, a soft, deliberate inhale, lightly nipping. “You don’t get to walk away without paying for that.”
Teeth graze your skin, his breath molten hot. Pearly whites sink down on your shoulder, punctuated with a particularly brutal thrust. The sound he makes is raw and primal, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest.
The ache fades into a dizzying cocktail of pain and pleasure that leaves your head spinning with a silent cry. The slow, wet drag of his tongue over the fresh bite mark is a cruel contrast to the sting. You hiss through your teeth, body jolting at the sensation.
Dabi chuckles low, like he’s savoring your every reaction. “Still with me, baby?” He murmurs against your skin, tongue flicking over the mark again, less in a soothing gesture and more in torment.
The tears flow freely, and with a flick of his wrist between your legs and the relentless push and pull of his hips, you once again come undone under his touch, crying out so sweetly in pleas and begs that sound like music to his ears.
And just like that, your vision blurs and you can barely comprehend what's happening, dipping in and out of consciousness. Your body feels distant, untethered, floating somewhere between pleasure and overstimulation.
Dabi can barely contain his excitement the second you go limp in his hold, he had to physically stop himself from moving to adjust his position. Leaning back on his heels a bit, he grasps your hips, unmindful of the burn mark he had marked you with, and hoisting you on to his lap. The angle allows him better movement, hitting even deeper than before.
With his hold, he pulls your body towards him with every thrust, using you to get himself off.
He throws his head back with a loud groan, “fuckin’ hell, feels so good,” he cums again, keeping himself still, cum spurting right in your womb. Gently rubbing his thumbs on your sides, he caresses your lower half. He takes your cheeks in both hands, squeezing before letting go with a quick pat and quietly admiring the burn of his handprint on your skin.
He doesn't bother pulling out just yet, simply threading a hand through his damp hair. The creak of the floorboards and the sound of heavy boots thudding has him frowning. He tilts his head, turning his gaze towards the origin of the noise. There stands Hawks, still in his hero costume, gloved hands held up in front of him in a placating gesture. Trademark smile on his infuriating face.
Hawks gives his best disarming smile, attempting to charm his way out of trouble. “I just got here, promise!”
Dabi knew better. He would've heard the door open or the swing of a window, but then again Hawks is a trained hero. He could've slipped in without anyone noticing who knows how many minutes ago unless Dabi was too focused on you to realize.
Dabi raises a brow, rethinking his options, then shakes his head. “Do you always show up fashionably late to a threesome invite, or is this a special excuse? You sure took your sweet time. Almost thought you weren't coming.”
Hawks’ gaze drifts from Dabi then to your unconscious form, “There was a drive-by.” He offers as an explanation, “I couldn't just ignore it. What kind of hero would that make me if I did?”
“Whatever. Just get your ass over here.” Dabi finally pulls out of you, replying casually to Hawks as if he isn't offering you to someone else. “If you arrived a minute later, I would've kicked your feathered ass out.”
✎ cw: 18+(minors dni), oral (m receiving), exhibitionism (in a meeting), cum eating, dabi is a little mean & rough
✎ I haven't written in months so im trying to get back into writing again. Not proofread
What started as a joke between you and Dabi at 4 in the morning turned into a challenge of who can rile up the other more until it became a practical execution rather than back and forth play fighting.
The meeting is underway when he had ushered you beneath the table, uncaring of the curious eyes watching and internally criticizing whatever ploy you two had cooked up today. Dabi merely offers them a silent response, a smirk here and a flipped middle finger there, much to Shigaraki's vexation. No one bothers to even try to stop either of you by this point anyway.
He spares you a glance, slouching on the chair with his hands resting on his thigh and the other on the back of your head, lightly scratching your scalp. With hooded eyes he watches you fiddle with his belt, tugging off the buckle and unzipping his pants quite eagerly.
"We received intel from one of our men in..."
The voices of the other men in the room fade in the background, rendered static noise in comparison to the loud shuffling of his clothes being tugged and moved aside by manicured nails.
And finally, Dabi exhales as you tug down his boxers enough to free his cock from its confines. It nearly slapped your cheek had you not moved back in time.
The hand in your hair tightens, wordlessly tugging you closer to where he needs you and mouthing for you to hurry up. A soft giggle bubbles in your chest, teasing as you bat your lashes at him and he swears if you weren't in a meeting room right now, he would've had his way with you already. So he plays nice for now.
"We're not short on manpower. What we need is..."
You wrap your fingers around his cock, slowly stroking him while maintaining eye contact. Cerulean eyes meet yours in a silent challenge, a battle of wits and wagers, where pushing each other to their limits warrants the winner a satisfying reward. And Dabi would be damned if he lets you win this little bet.
You lick a path on the underside of his cock, swirling your tongue on the mushroom tip. You're rewarded with a muffled groan when you finally wrap your lips around him, taking him in inch by inch and working to slacken your jaw.
Dabi leans his head back, your warm mouth feeling too good to resist. A murmured fuck and a quick tug on your hair, he shoves you down against his pelvis, the tip of his cock meeting the back of your throat and making you gag.
Tears form in the corner of your eyes the longer Dabi holds you there, one hand supporting the back of your head and the other on your neck. He looks down at you and sucks in a breath at the sight.
You look so fucking hot like this.
Choking while being forced to deep throat his dick.
You tap on his thigh twice and he lets up, allowing you to pull away. A cough strains your throat, leaving it feeling sore and aching. The death glare you send his way doesn't even deter the man, in fact it only makes his cock twitch in his hold. The bastard enjoyed it, of course he did.
He grabs your face, fingers digging into your cheeks as he pulls you back in.
His voice is low, a hushed whisper amongst the arguing voices of the other men in the room. "You talked big game back there and you couldn't even handle that? I'm disappointed, doll."
Again, your glare does nothing, only succeeding on making him act more smug. He presses hard on your cheeks, making you wince, something he enjoys a little too much, evident in the way his smirk turns into a grin.
A thumb forces its way through your lips, pressing flat against your tongue. It's salty and tastes like ash. For a moment, you think he might grant you some mercy. But Dabi had never really been kind. Using this hold on you, he tugs your jaw open and before you can react, he replaces his thumb with his cock but this time he doesn't just shove it in. He lets it rest on your tongue, waiting to see what you'll do.
At least his gracious enough to grant you some control.
Starting with a slow pace, you bob your head up and down, hallowing your cheeks as you take in more of him with each trip down. You've given him head before but it never really feels like it gets easier after each time. It's a struggle to make him fit, a struggle you refuse to show him lest you want him to become even more smug and cocky.
A large hand trails up the nape of your neck, sliding into your hair, tugging lightly as he guides your movement.
He throws his head back against the head rest, the tips of his ears flushing bright red and fighting the urge to moan and groan at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth doing wonders on him. He couldn't care less of the obvious stares, much too focused on chasing the pleasure. He'll get scolded by Shigaraki later but fuck it, this is worth it.
You quicken your pace, swallowing around the tip, trying your best to deep throat him.
Dabi bucks his hips upward to meet your movements with what little freedom the chair allows him. He relishes the sound of you choking on his cock, sweat dripping down his temples as he chases his high.
Suddenly, he shoves your head down against him again, nose burying in his happy trail. Spurts of thick, hot cum slide down your throat and fills your mouth with the sheer amount he spills.
He breathes heavily, tugging you off him but covering your mouth with one hand before you can spit any of his precious cum.
✎ cw: 18+ minors dni, somnophilia, noncon, male masturbation, hawks breaking into ur apartment, yandere-ish behavior, mentions of stalking
✎ this is a chapter from my on going story in ao3 i wrote a little while back
There was something thrilling about being a hero but participating in morally questionable decisions. An occupation that's supposed to be a symbol of peace and prosperity, as the number 2 hero he's bound by his duty and obligation to the people of Japan. And yet Hawks finds himself deviating from his usual path. When he's supposed to be back at the agency taking care of paperwork, he readjusts his schedule to fit a new routine.
He is aware that what he's doing is not normal by any standards but his own.
His profession required him to do many things, some of which he's not proud to admit, but was necessary for the greater good. Or at least that’s what he tells himself in the mirror every morning.
Landing on a balcony in a 4-story apartment complex was a different story altogether. Especially so when he knows who lives in this apartment. There was a pause in his movements when his feet touched the floor of the balcony, a hitch in his breath and a voice at the back of his mind telling him to reconsider but also willing him to proceed further.
He forced himself forwards, grabbing the handle of the door. To his surprise, it swings open, allowing him access into your abode. The last time he tried, the door was locked and he had forgotten to bring a lockpick with him. Breaking the wood or the glass would attract too much attention and reveal himself too quickly, so he had opted to find a window big enough to fit through.
Stepping into your apartment, he takes in the surroundings. Still the same as when he first paid a visit, everything in its place. The only mess he can see is the used mug and spoon you had left on the table. The apartment was decent, decorations from your college years and shelves with knick knacks left to collect dust. You haven't gotten the chance to do much general cleaning but he chalked that up to your busy work schedule.
A light snore stops him in his tracks, following the sound he peers over the back of the couch and sees you laying there asleep with a bag of opened chips spilling its contents on your lap. There's a pill bottle in your hand, the label shows the word Melatonin in bold font.
You looked peaceful, steadily breathing and hair slightly disheveled from the way you're resting your head on the armrest. Hawks moves to stand in front of the couch, bending down to get a closer look.
He can't help but chuckle, already feeling relieved upon seeing you. The stress from today's work and grueling training forced on him by the Commission was all but forgotten. Even the momentary wariness and frustration from the villain fight he had felt earlier dissipated.
Why?
The thought came suddenly. Hawks' smile faded when that one word echoed in his mind, a constant question plaguing him but pushed aside to maintain a semblance of a fantasy he wishes to perceive. He remembers all the people he had approached in the past, conversations and memories left on a bitter note all because the Commission forced him to cut ties with them one way or another. How is this time any different?
He thought it was weird how the Commission hadn't said anything yet about his contact with you, but he figured it might have been due to his current track record. He hasn't done anything to rebel, been a loyal follower committed to his job. But he knows that won't last long. They've given him reasons to cut ties for less than disobedience.
Was it because of the Hero Commission? He thinks back to all the times he was summoned, their voices ringing in his ears when they would speak of it as if it was in his best interest as a hero but really, it was the fear that their prized investment was slipping through their claws. He could almost recite their excuses in order. Is he here, in your apartment, watching you sleep in the late hours of the night because the Commission kept depriving him of personal relationships, whether that's platonic or romantic, whenever they see fit and never letting him learn how to develop healthy attachments?
As the never-ending questions plague his mind, he rises to his feet with you in his arms with the intention of moving you to the bed. It wasn't an easy transition, and you almost woke up, but he managed to make his way into your bedroom, using his feathers to untuck the sheets. The mattress sinks under your combined weight and as Hawks hovers over your upper body, hands propped on either side of you, he remembers part of the reason why he wasn't allowed to maintain any semblance of a relationship apart from his connection to the HPSC.
He's not well. Far from it.
If the stalking, obvious lies, blatant breaking and entering, and invading your most personal space without your knowledge wasn't proof enough of his mental well being, then the way he's looking at you now, his mind swirling with thoughts he swears will never reach the light of day is a clear indication.
No sane man would eye an unconscious person with a glint of hunger reflecting in their eyes. For a moment, Hawks recalls that soul crushing feeling of shame he's accustomed to weighing on his conscience, but the guilt was short lived, replaced with the tantalizing pull of desire.
He likes to think he has some restraint. A thin rope that's barely holding on representing his will to hold himself back from lines he knows he shouldn't cross but is so tempted to.
Morality and conscience thrown out the window, he indulges in his desires, consequences be damned.
He'd been deprived for too long and with the opportunity presented before him, he'd be mad not to take it. How long has it been since he last stood this close and intimately to another person? The most he can recall is the harsh and cold bodies of the drones and machines the Commission would force him to compete with, hard metal bodies crafted from steel. He can still feel the bruises he sustained from the most recent training session where he was left to fend for himself in a weather simulation projecting the harsh winter, cruel summer, and unrelenting storms. Physical human contact was what he craved most.
A hand runs down your torso, trying to feel the texture of your shirt through his gloves. He slides his hands under, the warmth of your skin permeates through the fabric of his gloves and he contemplates taking it off to feel you more closely. A reasonable thought pushed to the back of his mind and he's hovering over your unconscious body, sitting on his heels after kicking off his shoes.
Your shirt rides up, just barely showing your chest and Hawks’ breath hitches as he tugs it higher, revealing your bare chest to his wandering eyes and desperate hands. He doesn't know how much melatonin you took but he assumes the amount is enough to keep you knocked out through this whole ordeal, considering the fact that he had moved you from the couch to your bedroom, and is currently straddling your hips, and yet you're still fast asleep.
He props himself on one elbow, leaning close enough to breathe in your scent. It's addicting, the way he can't help himself when it comes to you. For someone he insists is a way to cure his boredom, he sure spends a lot of time with you even after promising to himself he wouldn't get attached. The threat of the Commission meddling with his connection with you still hangs in the air.
He had impulsively promised to take you out on the one day off he's been given in the last 5 months. Why? What made him think that was a good idea? He thinks back to his early days of childhood, every move and action was monitored and controlled behind the scenes. His decisions weren't his to make in the first place so when he gained the freedom to decide, however small, he took it without hesitation, taking what was supposed to be the norm for an ordinary person but a foreign experience to this caged bird.
Physical contact isn't new to him, it just doesn't happen frequently enough for him to be able to restrain himself.
He pulls back from you to take off his gloves, using his teeth to pull it off his hand. There wasn't much thought behind his next actions, his free hand moving to undo his pants and pull his cock free of his boxers. He bites his bottom lip, hand wrapping around himself and eyes locked on your sleeping face. A shudder laced with pleasure sends him spiraling back into his thoughts, less sensible than before, but he's too far in to retreat now.
He imagines how you'd react if you were to open your eyes now and see him, the sight of him jerking off to your unconscious body unable to hold himself back. In the back of his mind there's a voice, a voice of reason is what's expected but instead it encourages him to continue, to take what he wants.
And so he does. He moves his hand faster, breaths coming out in sharp gasps and suppressed groans. Sweat forms on his nape, he can feel it dripping down on his skin, muscles tensing but it feels so good.
A curse under his breath and his head tilting back, he bites on his bottom lip, imagining each drag of his hand is from your own fingers wrapped around his cock, or better yet, he imagines how good it would feel to have your warm mouth around him. Was it ethical, how he's masturbating in front of a sleeping person and imagining sexual fantasies of a person he swore would only be a source of entertainment for him, to pass time? Does he care?
Not particularly.
Hawks drops down on his elbow, once again breathing in your scent, inhaling deeply. Why do you have to smell like his favorite shampoo’s scent, fruity yet there's a hint of floral he adores so much.
His body tenses when he hears a light groan come from someone other than him, he knows he's risking it by continuing but somehow it turns him on even more. He watches you stir in your sleep, you try to change positions but find it rather difficult with the man hovering above you. He watches you intently, observing every little reaction you give him and just as you turn your head to one side, he leans into the sleeve of his jacket biting on the fabric to suppress any noise.
White ropes of cum drip from his tip and hand, remnants of his ministrations are left on your bare chest and stomach. Hawks’ breaths come out in huffs, breathing heavy as he tries to collect himself. He props himself up on both arms, not caring for the stain he might leave on the mattress. A thought screams at him in his post-delirious bliss: how the fuck did this happen? How did he let it happen?
And why aren't you awake?
He unconsciously grips the covers in his hands, fingers digging into the mattress as cold sweat forms on his temples. He's gone and done it, he crossed a line he knows he shouldn't have. He did it again. Again.
He raises a hand to grab you gently by the chin, tilting your head to face him.
He doesn't regret it.
Maybe he'll come visit you more often. After all, he already knows your schedule by heart. And even if there's a change in your shift, he'll find a way to know about it beforehand like he already did before. He has a date with you tomorrow, he smirks at the thought, only a few more hours until then. Perhaps he was wrong in considering you as a means to an end, to cure a boredom he's been desperate to climb out of. There's definitely something there, interest or intrigue, or something more.
Until the Commission meddles with his personal life again, he might as well have some fun and indulge himself.
✎cw: 18+ minors dni, voyeurism(shigaraki watches), unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism(dabi leaves the door open), fem bodied reader
Thinking about Dabi fucking you in Shigaraki's room.
And he does it just to spite Shigaraki.
You've both just returned after a long day of finishing grueling tasks assigned by the man whose room you're about to ruin, pushing past the others and stepping into the closest bedroom. Dabi's lips are on yours, rough hands already on your body as he guides you inside, neglecting to shut the door in his haste to have you, to embrace you.
You could barely breathe in between his kisses, and in the corner of your eyes you see the chipped wooden door left ajar but you're too far in the room to reach it. You know Dabi left it open on purpose. You know he brought you to Shigaraki's room on purpose, too, but right now you were too fueled by your desire to care.
The back of your legs hit the mattress, and you cling to him when he lays you on the bed. Holding you close to him, bodies pressing against each other as his lips press on yours again and again, desperate for each other's touch. You rake your fingers over his scalp and wrap your other arm around his neck, pressing deeper into the kiss.
He groans at the feeling of your hands on his body, and in the way your lips moved in sync with his. The weight of his body keeps you in place, and as he pulls back, you stare at each other for a moment, panting heavily.
You can feel his breath on your face, and the way his eyes stare into your own, a telepathic way of expressing his desires, and it sends shivers down your spine. In the way he looks at you, drinking in your similarly flushed expression, he almost looks desperate.
Dabi leans down to press his lips on your jaw, lingering a few seconds too long, hips deliciously grinding against yours, eliciting a moan from you at the feeling of his bulge rubbing over your clothed cunt.
"This is Shigaraki's room," You breathe out while your fingers thread through his hair, tilting your head to the side, eyeing the haphazardly displayed figurines and alarming amount of knock-off merch perched on shelves and drawers and the two screen monitor by the corner.
Shigaraki's room was as familiar to you as your own by now, you've nearly memorized which standee goes where and who it stands next to and it's all because of how much Dabi loves to bring you to the boss' room and fuck you dumb on the unmade bed.
"He'll scold us if he finds us in here again.”
Dabi's response is a chuckle, not really caring about the consequences.
"Let him. I don't care," He plants a kiss on the corner of your lips, smirking while he drags his hand down to your hips. "Besides, when has his scolding ever stopped us?”
His lips are on yours once more, kissing you once, then twice, tasting the flavor of your favorite lip gloss. His hands tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head, tossing the article of clothing to a corner of the room alongside his own shirt.
Soon the raven was fiddling with your lower garments, trying to tug it off you.
“Someone's in a rush.” You tease him, lifting your hips just enough to help him take off the rest of your clothes, leaving you in only your bra.
“You've been teasing me all day, doll. You're lucky I didn't drag you down an alley and fucked you there on a dumpster.” Dabi unbuckles his belt, tossing it aside. Cerulean eyes rake over your body, enjoying the view all while his hands slowly drag down your abdomen, moving lower and lower.
A moan slips past your lips when he pushes two fingers into you, and his thumb draws circles on your clit.
“Just fuck me already.”
Shigaraki immediately knew what was happening when he saw the door to his room left ajar. For the third time this week you and Dabi have once again found yourselves in his room to fuck and he's almost had it with the two of you. Approaching the door with heavy footsteps and a goal in mind to scold the two of you, his hand halts on the knob when he hears your moans accompanied by the rhythmic sound of skin slapping and the sound of his bed frame creaking and hitting the wall.
Peeking through the gap, he sucks in a breath seeing the sight before him. Your body laid on his bed while Dabi thrusts into you roughly, he had to wipe the drool on the corner of his lips, wishing he was the one in the burnt man’s place. He can feel himself straining in his pants, mentally scolding himself for how his body is reacting.
He had tried to keep the two of you busy and occupied with completing missions but you both still somehow find yourselves fucking in his room upon returning to the hideout.
With a shout of your names, he shoves the door open with a scowl. "You two have your own room. Stop fucking in mine.”
✎cw: 18+ minors dni, spanking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, use of doll/slut/brat, 1 pussy slap
Poor little slut, whimpering and sobbing as you lay across his lap, Dabi's hand landing another resounding smack on your bare ass, making you writhe in his hold.
"seven," your voice trembles, the stinging pain a contrast to how your fingers dig into your palms.
His smile is sardonic as he looks at you through hooded eyes. Your ass red with his handprints was a beautiful sight to him, and each sob, each whine, each whimper sends ripples of pleasure straight down to his cock as he revels in the control and power he has over you. How he loved seeing you like this.
"eight," you cry out when his rough hand hits your ass once more, tears streaming down your cheeks. Eight is nowhere near the actual number of times he's spanked you, each time you did something he didn't like or because he just felt like it, he'd make count from the start all over again.
Then the torture continues, and you count just as he instructed you to: nine, then ten, then eleven, until you reach higher numbers and then, finally, he speaks with a smirk, voice low and dangerous,
"start counting from one again, doll, you missed a number."
You didn't. You know you didn't. But he's doing it on purpose. Just to prolong this little game of his, to see how much more you can take until the pain is too much.
But you do it anyway. You count as he spanks your ass raw again, and again, crying out for his pleasure.
You want it to stop, but you can't bring yourself to say anything. Not when his rough hand soothingly runs across your ass with the promise of release and pleasure when you listen to him and continue counting, the only problem is that you don't know how high you need to count before he decides it's enough.
"D-dabi, please..." you turn your head to peek at him, and the thread of his self-control almost breaks at the sight of your tear stained cheeks and your cute little pout.
He brings a hand to your face, wiping stray tears with his thumb before carding his fingers through your hair.
For a moment you think he'll show you some mercy. But then he pulls on your hair, keeping your head in place, making you look at him then he coos at you, a smirk on his lips, "Pretty doll, we're done when I say we're done. Now keep counting."
He has you bent over the mattress, face shoved into the pillows as Shigaraki's hands explore the expanse of your back. Dragging his hands over your shoulders, down to your thighs then back up to your hips, the texture of his artist gloves sending shivers down your spine as he kneels behind you, taking in the sight before him. Your fingers curl into the sheets as his hand lands hard on your ass once more.
The choked sob that leaves you makes him grin wider. He's enjoying this.
Enjoying seeing you writhe in his hold, reduced to a sobbing mess just from his hands alone and the pain he brings you.
You gasp in pain, bracing yourself on your arms when Shigaraki's hand hit your skin. You try to pull yourself towards the bedframe, grab on to anything to ground yourself.
You can't even remember how long he's been at it, and even if you try to form a coherent thought, his continuous spanking smacks the thoughts right out.
You'll never admit it to him how you take some pleasure from the way he hurts you just as much as he does from seeing his handprints on your skin and hearing the sobs and whimpers slip from your lips.
“Stay still,” he tells you, grabbing your hips roughly with both hands to keep you from crawling away.
He suddenly flips you over on to your back, a gloved hand landing a harsh smack on your cunt. He keeps his hand there for a moment, "you're just itching for another punishment, aren't you? you're such a brat." He revels in the reaction he received from you, that tearful expression he loved seeing.
He moves to unbutton his pants. He's all for punishments but he's not the patient type.
✎ 18+ minors dni, age gap, cheating, established relationship with natsuo, dabi is called touya, mirror sex, penetration, dubcon, blackmail, use of whore/doll, fingering, almost getting caught
✎ 1.4k words
Just Touya eyeing Natsuo's pretty little girlfriend.
Natsuo has brought you over to his place a handful of times already. The first few was to meet the family. The family in question being Rei, Fuyumi, and Shoto. At first you questioned why he only introduced you to his mother and two of his siblings. You were even more confused when he so vaguely explained why he didn't want to introduce you to his father and was even more adamant to refuse to have you meet his eldest brother, Touya.
Why? He couldn't give you a straight answer, half of the time you chalked it up to half baked excuses. But you trust your boyfriend so despite your curiosity, you didn't ask for the reason again and did your best to avoid Touya when you're visiting the Todoroki residence.
Touya is intimidating. He's nearly twice your age, taller, and has a gaze that's enough to make anyone weak at the knees. You aren't sure if it's his scars that piqued your interest or the smirk dawning his lips whenever you'd swiftly pass by him to reach Natsuo's room. He's an enigma. Always missing at family dinners, somehow always reeks of smoke and ash like burning firewood, and on the days you do see him, he seems to always be lurking.
You paid him no mind like Natsuo asked you to.
"Ignore him," Natsuo had told you a while back when you first ran into the eldest son of the Todoroki's by accident because neither you nor Natsuo knew he was home that day.
You did as you were told. As much as you can. You tried to ignore him on the rare times he had joined the family for dinner when Natsuo brought you over. Ignored the way his gaze lingered, moving up and down your body so shamelessly and pretending he hadn't just been undressing you with his eyes when Natsuo calls him out on it. You tried to ignore the way his hands would touch your waist when you scurried past him down the hall, or how he'd purposefully trip you only to catch you with one hand by the hip and his playful "sorry" or "careful, doll, how clumsy of you" that follows after as he watches you with hooded eyes as you disappear into Natsuo's room.
Touya is Natsuo's older brother.
Touya is your boyfriend's older brother.
He shouldn't be trapping you in his arms, your legs hooked over his to keep you spread open for him in front of the full length mirror and making you hold his phone up with shaky hands to record the whole thing. His hand slides up yours, guiding the angle of the camera to show how his fingers slipped in and out of your soaked cunt, whispers of praise and degrading names come from his tongue yet all you can do is sit there and take it.
The entire thing was unsightly, you're cheating on your boyfriend. With his brother, no less. In the back of your mind something was screaming at you to protest, to pull away, to stop yourself from committing any more unfaithful acts but how could you when the drag of his fingers along your walls felt so much better than when Natsuo did it. Touya knew your body more than your own boyfriend did.
“And what are you thinking of in that pretty little head of yours, doll?” His voice catches your attention, his hand stilling inside of you. His cerulean eyes bore into your own, stone cold and devoid of any affection as he sought for an answer. You knew he didn't like it when you let your mind wonder, your attention should only be on him.
A shudder runs down your spine at the feeling of his breath on your neck. It's warm. Hot. Too hot.
“ ‘m sorry,” you stutter an apology, hoping he'd let it slide tonight.
Touya doesn't seem satisfied at all with your answer, eyes still glaring at you through the reflection in the mirror. Then he hums in your ear, pressing his lips against your neck, “‘s that so? You're sorry?”
You nod, affirming you were apologetic. For a moment you think he'll forgive you as you feel his scarred hands move up your body, but in a swift moment he's holding your thigh up in one hand and the other gripping your cheeks. You can feel your own slick drip down your face but the harshness in his grip concerns you even more. He makes you look directly at your reflection in the mirror, refusing to let you turn your head to look away no matter how much you try.
You felt ashamed to even glance at your reflection. Touya held your thighs further apart, exposing you even more. Your heart pounded in your ears as you looked at yourself, you're everything you promised Natsuo you wouldn't be. And Touya loved it. Defiling his younger brother's precious little girlfriend, playing the long game to earn your trust and take advantage of your naivety, thinking he's just misunderstood by his family when in reality he's everything they warned you he would be.
“Look at you. What would Natsuo think if he saw you? His little girlfriend acting like a whore in front of his big brother.” Touya chided, his tone showing he finds the situation more amusing than it actually is.
You close your eyes, hoping the shame and guilt from your actions all goes away but Touya doesn't let you have that moment of wishful thinking. He's far too cruel to grant you anything more than a curt pat on the cheek before he's hoisting you up by your forearms and practically pushing you onto the bed, the mattress sinking under your weight. He hovers above you, propping himself on his forearm while he aligns himself at your entrance.
This isn't the first time this has happened and each time you find yourself in Touya’s room, the shame and guilt gets worse but the more he seeks you out, the more you enjoy the secret rendezvous. And it's not like you could say anything about these secret meetings anyway. Not when he has recordings of every encounter saved on his phone and probably backed up in a hard drive somewhere.
A soft moan slips past your lips when Touya pushes in, feeling his thick cock splitting you open. Only half way in, he shoves the rest of his cock in your cunt, making your fingers dig into the covers, a sharp gasp leaving your lips accompanied by his groans.
He pulls nearly all the way out then slams back in, setting a rough and brutal pace right from the start. You gasp his name in a manthra, feeling him drag deliciously along your walls and hitting that sweet spot inside you so precisely. It feels too good, even better than when Natsuo does it.
“Look at you. Already falling apart on my cock like you weren't just fucking Natsuo hours ago.” Touya groans, keeping up his pace. He grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, hitting even deeper. “He couldn't satisfy you enough that you had to come to my room begging to be dicked down properly.”
You shake your head no, trying to make sense of what he's saying over all the pleasure.
“No? Kind of hard to believe that when you're already letting me fuck you, doll.”
A knock on the door startles both of you, making Touya curse rather loudly. It swings open without warning, accompanied by a voice you're far too familiar with. Touya moves his body to cover your face, hiding you from Natsuo's sight. He covers your mouth with one hand, wordlessly telling you to stay quiet.
“Touya-nii, I need your help with something-” Natsuo's voice cuts off when he sees his brother's naked lower half, scrambling to cover his eyes and look away from the scene before him.
“ ‘m a little busy here.” Came Touya’s nonchalant reply.
The younger brother's face flushes red. He covers his eyes with one hand, and the other waving frantically as he tries to reach for the door, “Sorry, sorry–” and slams it shut in a rush.
Touya moves back to a comfortable position, straddling your hips as he sits on his heels, looking at you as you lay on the bed with a frown and furrowed brows.
“He didn't see you. Don't get so worked up about it.” He chuckled at your expression and gave a half-hearted apology you know he doesn't actually mean.
✎cw: 18+ minors dni, dry humping, exhibitionism, orgasm denial, use of the term slut
✎having thoughts about shigaraki and just wanted to share
Thinking about PLF!Shigaraki in his suit and tie and humping his thigh while in a meeting.
Shigaraki is injured. You shouldn't let him do any work, but as the needy slut you are he's giving you the chance to get yourself off. You don't get a choice where though, and today he decided it'd be fun to see you desperately chase your high while everyone else watches you whine and whimper on his thigh and he hasn't even touched you yet.
Thinking about him watching you in silence with an almost bored expression, his head resting on his hand while you move your hips on his thigh despite all the wondering eyes roaming over your body belonging to the other big shots in the meeting with him.
And he's cruel about it, too. he'll grab your hip with his free hand to stop you from moving, feeling you tremble against him from another ruined orgasm. He doesn't care about the wet stain on his pant leg from your arousal, he only wants to see and hear your reactions rather than the lengthy monotonous discussion that goes in one ear and out the other.
Not until he's had his fun. Or at least until this meeting is done and finally over with. You're the only interesting thing in this meeting and he's not about to let you revel in your afterglow while he sits in boredom.
There's a hint of a smirk on his lips when he hears you whine, nearly sobbing from his treatment, fingers curling into his shoulders and creasing the fabric.
It's a stark contrast to how fidgety and shy you were when he sat you on his thigh when the meeting just began, and now you're teetering over the edge, nearly about to burst and finally beg him to let you cum, no longer caring of the drooling stares of the other people in the room with you--your mind focused on him and reaching your climax.
But he wont. Even if you beg him to.
No, no, no, not a chance. So sit pretty because he's guiding your movements again with the hand on your hip before removing it and intently watching your face, enjoying your little expressions and your mouth hanging slightly open only to stop you again and revel in the pretty little whines and whimpers that leaves your lips.
I just watched world heroes again. That chair was just a way to flex the animation but damn, Roddy was so cool in that chase scene n' outrunnin' Izuku's OFA
✎cw: 18+ minors dni, degradation, sensory deprivation(blindfold), impact play, implied use of toys, use of the term slut, brat taming
✎this is a repost of an old fic!
You cried out as Katsuki's hand made contact with your ass in a harsh slap, your head pushed further down into the mattress as his fingers tightened their grip on the back of your neck, enough to make you lightheaded. Your tears stain the thin fabric obstructing your vision, body sore and trembling underneath him from hours of continuous slaps and manhandling he had done to you.
"Look at you," Katsuki groaned at the sight of you bent over, ass red due to the continuous smacks he subjected you to. Your face is sticky, stained with your own tears from the pain that's slowly being muddled with the pleasure. "A sobbing, trembling mess. It's only been half an hour, tch. And to think you had the guts to break my rules. Where did all the courage you proudly flaunted go?"
If it weren't for the cloth blocking your vision, you're sure you'll see the taunting smirk on his face, and you could practically hear his ego inflating. Another particularly harsh smack almost made you scream, fingers digging into the bed sheets.
His hands followed the curve of your rear before stopping at your waist, gripping tightly but not enough to leave a bruise. He listens to your softening sobs and short hiccups, deciding to loosen his hold on you as an act of mercy. Perhaps he was it bit too much, he did give you more than a dozen spanks, but then again, he could've done worse if he was genuinely upset about you breaking one of the rules he set when the two of you started dating.
One of the rules, which you broke, specifically said not to send him inappropriate images while he's on duty, mostly because it would definitely distract him from work. Another rule of his prohibits you from getting off without him and he gave quite the emphasis when he spoke to you about it.
When you did send him a picture of you touching yourself, angled perfectly to give him an eye full, he came home earlier than usual with a certain look in his eyes.
"K-katsuki," You cry out his name, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry-- please, 's too much."
You hope pleading would help shorten the length of your punishment. Knowing your boyfriend, the only thing that'll get him to do anything is a little stroke to his ego. However, it seems pleading won't help you this time when you hear the buzzing of a certain object whirring to life from behind you. You've heard and held it more than enough times to know what it is without seeing it. Katsuki's favorite toy to use on you, a vibrator wand.
✎read the brothers' version to know the context! i have a hard time writing for the dateables especially for barbatos. that's why i didn't write for him, sorry! Sorry if they're ooc,,,
✧It'll be a long trip to his room so let's just say he found you walking home, swaying and nearly tripping over yourself and decided to help you out by bringing you to the castle and letting you rest in his bedroom for the night
✧He's surprised to see that you're drunk and by yourself this late, usually at least one of the brothers would be by your side. When you stirred in your sleep, blinking up at him with hooded eyes and whispering something under your breath, he had to lean in to properly hear you
✧"I wish you loved me,"
✧He froze. It's not something he expected to hear from you. It's a sudden but definitely a pleasant surprise, and he can't keep himself from smiling at the sudden admission of your feelings. He wished it was a little more grand though, rather than a drunken confession left hanging because you passed out as soon as you uttered the words. But he's not complaining. He knows now that you feel the same and as much as he wants to talk to you about it right now, he's sure you're tired and probably won't wake up til the next morning so he decides to let you sleep. You wouldn't mind if he slept next to you, right?
✧Simeon escorted you to Purgatory Hall when he saw you walking back by yourself. He seemed worried at how drunk you are, worrying if you could even find your way back to the house of lamentation safely when you nearly tripped on air. He brought you to his room, laying you on his bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and was about to text one of the brothers when he felt a tug on his clothes. For a moment you just stared at him, eyes squinting as if you're trying to make sure he's real and not just a figment of your imagination caused by the liquor in your system
✧"I wish you loved me,"
✧Now he hadn't expected that at all. But the desperation in your voice and the longing in your gaze silenced the doubts in his mind. He wasn't given enough time to react because you had fallen asleep as soon as you had admitted your true feelings. Smitten as he was, he still decided to let you rest. The rise and fall of your chest as you breathe brought him an odd sense of comfort, and as he brushes a strand of hair from your face, he can't help smiling at the prospect of finally being able to express his desire for you but that would have to wait until tomorrow
✧How you found yourself in Purgatory Hall and in front of Solomon's room eludes you. One moment you're enjoying yourself with friends and acquaintances, dancing and even taking a few shots, the next moment you're knocking on his door without a second thought
✧It takes Solomon a minute to respond, opening the door and expecting to see either Simeon or Luke but was surprised to see you instead. Though when he sees the glossed look in your eyes and when the scent of alcohol hits him, he immediately reaches out for you only to have you cling to him eagerly in your druken state
✧"I wish you loved me,"
✧It came out as a whisper, so softly spoken, your voice cracks near the end before passing out in his arms. Solomon is stunned as he lays you on his bed, to him druken words are sober thoughts. He'll talk to you about last night's incident the next day after taking care of your hangover. He finds it endearing, how you somehow found yourself wondering over to his door at such a late hour in your drunken stupor. As he lays beside you, Solomon watches you intently, perhaps mentally wishing for you to wake up and properly finish your confession
Hi there! I was wondering if you can do a request in Obey Me! where MC/Reader wants to motivate all of the brothers (separate) to get a higher score on the quizzes, so when they start studying Mc gives them a short kiss near the corner of the mouth and say "If you pass the quiz, I'll kiss you properly ;)" How would they react and what would they do? I really like how you write the characters, its honestly amazing and I hope you're doing well :DD
˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳ 𝓜𝓒 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓲𝓿𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓻𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼
✎cw: fluff
✎I was just thinking about what to write and then I saw this. Thank you anon, this req is adorable! And thank you so much, I'm glad you like my writing!
✧Lucifer's grades are never a concern, the scores he gets on quizzes are good but you know he can do better. It took a bit of convincing before he agreed to study together for the upcoming quiz. He had to push back some tasks to make room in his busy schedule but he made it work.
✧He brought you to his office for your study session. Sitting side by side at hi desk, you both began revising for the test. The study session has just started but you already feel like you've accomplished a lot but then you notice Lucifer glancing back and forth between your notes and his paperwork. You ponder, what could you do to make Lucifer focus on revising for the test?
✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."
✧You did it without much thought, you kissed the corner of his lips and looked away from him just as quickly as you tell him you'll kiss him properly if he manages to pass the quiz tomorrow. He'd see it as a challenge, with your soft lips as the prize. He'll smirk at your flustered state, leaning closer to you and claim that he'll be sure to ace tomorrow's test just to feel your lips on his
✧True to his words, he calls you to his office the next day after he makes sure you've seen the results of the quiz. "Well? Are my scores satisfactory enough? I've shown you the fruits of my effort, now it's time for you to fufill your promise. I'm waiting, mc." He says with a smirk as he tilts your chin up to make you look at him
✧Mammon has never really liked studying. Even if he was forced to to pick up a textbook and read through it, it'll only take a minute or two before you'd find him scrolling through devilgram or akuzon. So when the results of the pop quiz came out, you weren't surprised to see a low score but you know Mammon could do better. He just needs a little motivation!
✧He wasn't all that thrilled when you offered to help him study but it was a chance to be alone with you so he agreed. It was difficult to get him to focus at first, always deviating from the topic and trying to convince you to just hang out with him
✧He couldn't stay put and kept rambling about how studying was a waste of time so you decided to motivate him in a different way since offering to help him one on one wasn't going to work. The moment your lips touched the corner of his, he froze and stared at you with wide eyes, flushing red allover
✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."
✧A moment of silence came after as Mammon processed what you just said. He then picked up the textbook he momentarily forgot and opened the page the two of you were reading earlier, suddenly motivated to study
✧"That's-- mc, ya' better keep your promise..! I'll make sure I pass the quiz so ya' better not back out when I do!" His blush darkened as he looked away from you in favor of focusing on the printed text. He tried to put in the effort to study but he'll still complain though
✧The next day, if he managed to get a passing score he'll immediately remind you of your promise to kiss him properly. Ever since then he'd ask you to study with him but when you both actually start studying he'll whine midway and tell you he needs a little motivation to continue
✧He loves his games. He probably spends more time playing than studying so when his scores suddenly dropped, you know you have to step in and help him lest he ends up getting scolded by Lucifer for neglecting his studies. You thought it'd do him well to use some of his spare time for studying rather than just playing his games and although it took a lot of effort to persuade him, he finally agreed to study with you for the upcoming quiz
✧Levi isn't all that thrilled to be studying but he's glad that he'll be spending the night alone with you. He complains and whines about the topics at first but as you start to explain how to solve each question, he started showing more interest than before but he still complains every now and then. You figured he'd do fine with tomorrow's quiz but you thought a little incentive might help motivate him to do better
✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."
✧The feeling of your lips on his skin made him jump in his seat, face flushing a deep shade of red as he looks at you with wide eyes. He stutters and stumbles over his words and it takes him a while to calm down. Once he overcomes the initial shock, he'll continue revising with you and going over the notes at least twice, motivated by your promise to kiss him on the lips if he achieves an acceptable score on the quiz
✧"I did it, I passed the test with high marks! S-so you have to keep your promise, mc." His voice unconsciously raises as he spoke and he turns his gaze sideways with a bright red tint ln his cheek. It took some time for him to build up the courage to say it to you but he's been waiting all night and day for a kiss from you. After that he may not say it directly, but he will purposely not give his all when studying and indirectly mention that he might need a little motivation to continue
✧Like Lucifer, Satan's scores are never a concern. For someone as knowledgeable as him, it'd be a surprise if he got a low score. So for the sake of the narrative, let's just say he somehow got an average score and one thing led to another and now you're helping him study for the next quiz. He says he doesn't need help because he'll do fine-- no, he says he'll do better --on the upcoming quiz
✧You know he'll do fine but a little revising would still prove to be worth his time. Though, despite his previous statement, he still stayed and skimmed over his notes but you notice how he seems disinterested which is unlike him. As the two of you sit beside each other on his bed with your notes in hand, you try to think of a way to motivate him to study and that's when you came up with an idea
✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."
✧The second you pulled back, you noticed how Satan flushed red and his eyes widen as he processed what you just did. The flustered expression was soon replaced with a smirk, however, as he reaches to caress your cheek
✧"Is that so? In that case, I'll study even harder to answer all the questions correctly if you keep your promise." He gives his all in revising the topics given by the professors and will occasionally remind you of your promise for when he inevitably pass with flying colors. Unsurprisingly, he appears before you to announce the results of the quiz the next day and waits for the kiss he's been wanting since last night
✧Asmo gives more focus to his appearance and his scores are often decent. He gives the bare minimum effort when it comes to his studies but as long as he doesn't fail a pop quiz then he thinks he has nothing to worry about. He may get average scores but you know he can do better if he just gives a little more effort and since Lucifer's pretty strict when it comes to his and his brothers' overall average scores
✧Convincing Asmo to study with you was surprisingly easy. You just had to mention that it would be a "one-on-one" study session and he already agreed to it. So here you are now, reciting formulas and equations while the 5th born sits beside you while painting his nails pink and teal. He keeps trying to get you to join him, to let him paint your nails as well because he apparently found a good color that he thinks would suit you. He clearly had no intention of studying so you tried to think of a way to motivate him to study
✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."
✧When you leaned towards him and quickly pecked the corner of his lips, he couldn't help but gasp and drop the nail file he was holding. He'd be so giddy and ask if you're really going to kiss him properly if he manages to pass the quiz tomorrow. He'll keep reminding you of your promise the whole night as you both try to study for the test
✧"I'll pass the quiz with flying colors so can't back out, hon!" He'll immediately come find you and remind you of what you promised him after the results come out. Like his 2nd eldest brother, he'll ask for your company to study but will whine not even halfway through and say he needs a little motivation to continue because studying is so tiring
✧Beel's scores are decent. Not the highest in class but definitely not the lowest. When you brought up the idea of studying together to get higher scores, he agreed almost immediately. You know he might not give it his all when revising but you know he'll at least try and focus on the topics you're going over so to try and get him to fully give his attention to studying, you thought of another way to motivate him aside from offering him food
✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."
✧A quick peck to the corner of his lips had him blushing lightly and all of a sudden he feels a different type of hunger consume him. You made him a promise and he'll be sure to fulfill his end. He makes an effort to study, trying to keep his mind from wondering off, all while munching on snacks you both prepared earlier
✧"I think I scored better than last time. Will you kiss me now, mc?" He'll come to you soon after finding out how he did and ask for you to give him his promised reward. He won't use the same excuse like some of his brothers, instead he'll just ask directly if you'll kiss him like last time if he does well on the next test
✧He has probably fallen asleep during tests before. He isn't the most enthusiastic when it comes to studying and would much rather give in to his sin than open a book or review his notes from his classes. You know he could get better scores, he just needed help so you took it upon yourself to tutor him
✧Convincing him to study with you took a bit of effort, and getting him to leave the comfort of his bed was even more difficult. When you finally managed to sit him down and crack open a book or two, you weren't surprised to see him leaning on to the desk and about to doze off not even five minutes in. When you were nearly about to give up, you suddenly thought of a way that may motivate him to focus on studying
✧"If you pass the quiz tomorrow, I'll kiss you properly."
✧Feeling your soft lips press on the corner of his surprised him enough to wash the sleepiness away. He stares at you for a moment with a light blush on his cheeks then he smirks, leaning his face on his arm as he leans his weight on the desk. "Is that so? I guess I'll have to put in the extra effort tonight to study if I want you to kiss me on the lips next time. You'll keep your promise, right? Hm, mc?"
✧He'll show up in your room the next day and clings to you, laying his head on your lap as the two of you lay on your bed and he reminds you of what you said last night. When you do kiss him, he has a satisfied expression and asks you to do it again. You gave him a good excuse so every now he'll drop by your room and says he needs help studying but he just stops halfway through and says if you kiss him then he'll take studying seriously
✎cw: yandere behavior, kidnapping, dubcon/noncon, penetration, use of slut/whore/doll, afab!reader, edging, use of toys
✎1.4k words
✎I haven't written anything in months so I'm trying to slowly get back into writing and who better to write for than this burnt mf
You had helped him a few times before. Every time the both of you crossed paths, Dabi always looked exhausted and on the brink of fainting. The faint smell of burning flesh wafted through the air, his movements uneven-- often limping --and yet he always wears that damn smirk no matter how bad of a state he's in. It didn't matter if his body temperature is exceeding what he can handle due to overusing his quirk, or if his burns continued to spread; he has you.
He has you to fix him. To heal him. Everytime he runs into you, purposely or accidentally, you always end up using your quirk on him. Whether it's out of pity or because of your naturally caring nature, you didn't know anymore nor did you care. He always seems to run to you whenever he gets hurt and you heal him in return with no questions asked; so why even bother questioning the logic behind these unplanned encounters?
You wish you did.
You didn't know better so you didn't question him whenever your paths collided. He's a villain, a very dangerous villain, you shouldn't be helping him. The obvious wanted posters and frequent news broadcast of him and his group's heinous acts should've been enough to make you turn the other way, to ignore him despite the worrisome state you'd always see him in. But how could you? He relied on you. He depended on your generosity. If you're being honest, you like it more than what you let on. Having someone acknowledge you and actually appreciate your help... Well, Dabi was never really vocal about his appreciation but he made up for his lack of verbal responses through his actions.
It started off simple. At first they were nothing more than fleeting touches, from tapping your cheeks to patting your head, but as time went on and your seemingly unplanned meetings became more and more frequent that you began to wonder if he had intentionally sought you out rather than a chance encounter, they soon turned to something more intimate. Hand holding, late night talks, and even the occasional make out sessions.
Is it serious? What you and Dabi have, your relationship... You had asked yourself multiple times what you are to each other but with how quickly he disappears soon after receiving your help, you think it might be nothing more than a fling. Your heart aches to think so but what could you do?
Dabi was sweet.
The Dabi you knew can be rough but he was also gentle in his own way. Despite how distant he acts, you can feel the affection in his fleeting touches so when he suddenly acted out of character, more cold and aggressive you didn't know what to do. You may be clueless of the reason but on his side, he blew up like a fuse.
He was sure that he had you, he was sure you were falling for him. Heck, you already made out with him so why, why in the world did you have to get a boyfriend? He exhausted his patience just because he didn't want you getting scared of him and running off and yet this is how you treat his effort? Was he not enough? Did you really see him as just a fling?
Even if you didn't, he didn't care anymore. He had to have you. You're either his or no one else's. He didn't want to have to resort to unethical means to have you by his side but you forced him.
Hearing your name come from another's lips had never made you feel so disgusted before. You shuddered, feeling Dabi's hot breath against your ear as he slowly pushed himself inside you.
You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from wincing due to the stretch as your cunt made way for his cock. Dabi let out a groan when he bottomed out inside you, his tip kissing your cervix and making you tremble in his grip. He's big. You didn't need to see it to believe it, you're already feeling it. The way his cock stretched your walls is both painful and pleasurable. If he hadn't taken you against your will then maybe you'd actually enjoy these moments with him.
The hand on your waist tightened, the pads of his fingers heating up your skin under his touch whilst the other carelessly held a remote, controlling the vibrator he forced into your ass. The frequency of the vibrations were set to a low setting, you silently thanked him for it.
It seems that he's in a rather good mood tonight. If he weren't, you would've already been filled to the brim with his cum, vibrator stuck in your asshole and your cunt stuffed with a glass dildo to keep himself from leaking out of your abused hole. Though that didn't exactly bring you a lot of reassurance. When Dabi's in a good mood, he goes down one of two routes: raw, vanilla sex or fun with toys. Both ends with you getting creamed, and knowing Dabi.. Well, the word gentle isn't in his vocabulary.
Not anymore. Ever since he had chained you to his bed he's been everything but gentle towards you.
You flinched at his touch as his hand moved to caress your tear-stained cheeks, thumb ghosting across your skin and stopping once it reached just below your eye. He chuckles lowly, purposely shifting his hips. "Why are you crying? You got what you want, don't be a greedy whore."
The way his length moved within you made you gasp. You cursed at him in your mind, knowing full well that he moved on purpose with full intent on arousing you further. He positioned himself so his cock just barely grazed your sweet spot, driving you crazy. After keeping you captive for weeks and railing you every night since then, he knows your body more than you do by now; he likes to think so. The lack of friction is driving you mad and you hated it.
"Please.." You murmur, barely audible had Dabi not made violating your personal space a hobby.
"Please what?" He hums, "Use your words, doll. I won't know what you want if you won't tell me."
His tone is mocking. The way he stared back at you with hooded eyes and a smirk on his lips made you want to smack him upside the head, if only the rising desire and heat in your nether regions weren't a current problem.
You loathed having to resort to asking Dabi, of all people, to provide you reprieve when he was the cause of all of this. After edging you for hours on end, bringing you near the edge only to pull his fingers away, you've lost count of how many ruined orgasms he's caused.
And yet you relent, having been pushed to your limits and desperate for release. With stray droplets of tears falling down your cheeks, your pleas and whimpers were like music to Dabi's ears as you begged him to let cum, to ruin you and use you as he pleases.
Dabi's smirk remains as he basks in the satisfaction of having reduced you to a sobbing, begging mess from hours of edging and teasing. And he finally listens, pulling his hips back only to slam back into you over and over. He holds your legs and practically folds you in half in a mating press, driving his hips into yours with fervor.
The drag of his cock against your walls has you arching into him and your nails digging into his back, causing him to hiss in your ears.
After being denied an orgasm for who knows how long, your moans highten as you feel yourself reaching your high quickly. Your walls clamping down on Dabi's cock as you came hard, screaming his name as you came.
"Fuck, look at you-- s'that feel good, doll?" He laughs, watching you try to respond but can't form any coherent response aside from whimpers and choked sobs. "Have I fucked you dumb already? We barely even started."
His thrusts don't stop, only getting quicker as he leans back to admire how you look beneath him. You're in for a long night.
Just finished watching To Your Eternity. I was left emotionally destroyed. I sat down and told myself to watch a light-hearted anime, picked To Your Eternity thinking it was wholesome and ended up bawling my eyes out. Thanks :')
