Warnings: NSFW (18+) | Public play, remote control vibrator, dom/sub, spanking, restraint, dirty talk, degradation, orgasm denial and overstimulation.
Summary: Hawks takes you to a hero party, but he has something unexpected in store—something that will test your patience and obedience. What happens when his teasing goes too far? And how will you handle it when disobedience becomes the ultimate game of punishment?
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You were almost ready when Keigo stepped into the bedroom, golden eyes filled with mischief. Leaning against the doorframe, he took you in—his gaze slow, deliberate.
“Damn, baby bird,” he whistled. “You’re gonna make it real hard for me to focus tonight.”
You rolled your eyes, smoothing down your dress. “You say that every time we go out.”
“And I always mean it.” He stepped closer, something lacy curled in his fingers. “Wear these for me.”
You blinked, looking down at the delicate black panties.
Your brow furrowed. “Why?”
Keigo’s smirk deepened, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “Because I said so.”
You huffed but took them anyway, slipping into the bathroom to change. They felt normal enough—soft, a little snug, but nothing unusual. You didn’t think much of it.
That was your first mistake.
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The hero gala was packed—Pro Heroes mingling, laughter and chatter filling the air. Hawks was in his element, weaving through the crowd with effortless charm, his hand resting at the small of your back as he introduced you to everyone.
You were smiling, shaking hands, making polite conversation when—
Bzzt.
Your breath hitched, body going rigid as a sudden vibration pulsed between your thighs.
Bzzzz—
Your fingers clenched around your clutch. Heat spread through you, and you fought to keep your expression neutral.
“(Y/N)?” Mirko tilted her head. “You good?”
Keigo’s hand on your waist tightened just slightly. “She’s fine,” he said smoothly, golden eyes glinting. “Just a little shy, huh, baby?”
You turned to him, heart pounding, and the look on his face told you everything.
You weren’t in control anymore.
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The vibrations continued throughout the night, coming in waves—sometimes soft, teasing, lulling you into a false sense of security. Other times, sharp and relentless, making your knees tremble.
Keigo never let on.
He carried on like nothing was happening, laughing, talking, touching you just enough to make things worse.
You were losing your mind.
You couldn’t take it anymore.
With a quick glance at Keigo—who was distracted in conversation with Best Jeanist—you slipped away, heading straight for the bathroom.
Inside, you locked the door and leaned against it, sucking in a shaky breath.
Your body throbbed with need, your thighs trembling.
You reached under your dress and tore the panties off, stuffing them into your clutch. Relief washed over you instantly, and for the first time all night, you could breathe.
By the time you rejoined the party, you were convinced you had won.
You should’ve known better.
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The car ride home was silent.
Too silent.
Keigo sat beside you, one arm lazily draped over the back of your seat, but his golden eyes were sharp, watching you like a hawk.
You fidgeted, feeling the tension thick in the air.
When you reached the penthouse, you barely had time to take off your heels before Keigo grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the bedroom.
Your back hit the door. His wings flared slightly, his body caging you in.
“Where are they?”
Your stomach dropped.
“W-What?”
“The panties.” His voice was soft—too soft. His fingers traced slow, lazy circles on your thigh. “They’re not where they should be, baby bird.”
Your breath caught. “I… I took them off.”
Keigo let out a low hum, tilting his head. “You disobeyed me.”
Your mouth opened to protest, but before you could speak, he spun you around—pressing your front against the door, his hands smoothing over your hips.
“Tsk,” he mused, lifting your dress. “Thought you could outsmart me?”
You gasped as his palm smacked against your bare skin—sharp, sudden, making you jolt.
“Bad girls don’t get to come,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. “You’re gonna learn not to disobey me.”
Another smack. Then another. Your body burned, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that made your knees weak.
Then, suddenly—his fingers were inside you.
Slow. Deep. Teasing.
Your breath hitched, a desperate whimper slipping from your lips.
“Oh?” Keigo cooed mockingly. “Now you wanna be good?”
His fingers curled just right, dragging pleasure from you too easily. Your hips bucked against his hand, chasing what you needed.
“Please,” you whimpered, voice breaking.
Keigo laughed.
“Oh, baby bird,” he murmured, pulling his fingers out completely.
Your entire body shook.
“No—” you gasped, reaching for him, but he grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind your back.
“Not happening,” he said smoothly. “You don’t deserve it.”
Your heart pounded, frustration burning in your veins.
Keigo smirked, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “But don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice dark with promise. “I’ve got all night to fix that attitude.”
His fingers returned—this time slower, crueler, building you up only to stop right before you could fall over the edge.
Again.
And again.
Until your body ached, your mind foggy, your voice raw from pleading.
Finally, when you were almost delirious with need, he pulled away completely, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.
“Had enough yet, baby?” he whispered, eyes glinting with satisfaction.
You could barely form words, shaking in his arms. “Please… Keigo, I’m sorry, please forgive me…”
His expression softened, but the playfulness never left his gaze. “Oh, sweet thing. You think I’m going to forgive you after what you did?”
Your eyes widened. “W-What?”
He tilted your chin up, his fingers running along your jawline as he spoke. “Not until I punish you properly. Only then will I give you the forgiveness you’re begging for.”
And with that, you knew this wasn’t over. Hawks would always have the final say—and tonight, you were going to learn exactly what happens when you disobey him.
Summary: Dragging Dabi to the club was a mistake. Flirting with other men in front of him? That was your breaking point. Now, you’re back home, and Dabi is done playing games.
Warnings: 18+ | Punishment, dominance, possessiveness, quirk use, clothing destruction, jealousy, power imbalance, rough handling, brat taming (kind of).
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The ride back home was scary enough to sober you up. The silence in the car was suffocating, thick with unspoken anger. After much convincing, Dabi had finally taken you to the new club—he hadn’t even wanted to go, but you insisted.
You wished you hadn’t.
With the League’s latest mission failing, he was already on edge. But you? You had pushed him further, testing his patience with every lingering touch and playful laugh thrown at strangers. You knew he was watching. Maybe that was the point.
Stepping into your shared apartment, you let out a sigh, slipping off your heels. The tension still clung to the air like smoke, but you turned to him anyway, your voice soft—almost pleading.
“I’m so—”
A sharp crack cut you off.
Your head snapped to the side, a burning sting spreading across your cheek. The room spun for half a second before the shock settled in. You lifted a trembling hand to your face, your skin hot beneath your fingertips. Tears welled in your eyes, not from pain, but from disbelief.
Rough fingers suddenly gripped your jaw, forcing you to look up. His hold was firm, demanding, but not cruel. His mismatched eyes burned into yours, unreadable yet seething.
“Tsk,” Dabi scoffed, tilting your face slightly, his thumb brushing over the fresh mark. The touch was almost tender—a cruel contradiction to what he’d just done.
“You wanted my attention, didn’t you?” he murmured, voice low, dangerous. “Well, sweetheart… you’ve got it now.”
His fingers slipped from your jaw, only to grab your wrist instead. One sharp tug, and you stumbled forward, your body colliding against his. His free hand found your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I don’t share. And I sure as hell don’t tolerate brats who think they can play games with me.”
Your throat tightened, a mix of regret and defiance bubbling up inside you. “Dabi, I—”
Before you could finish, he spun you around and shoved you forward. The edge of the couch caught the backs of your knees, forcing you to collapse onto the cushions.
“Stay down.”
The command was sharp, absolute. A warning.
Your fingers curled into the fabric beneath you, your heart hammering. A flicker of rebellion burned in your chest, but you knew better than to test him now.
Dabi let out a low chuckle, almost amused. “Oh, now you wanna be good?” He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as his fingers traced down your spine, slow, deliberate. “Too bad, doll. You wanted to act like a little tease—now you get to find out what happens when you piss me off.”
A hand suddenly pressed down on the small of your back, keeping you still.
Then—crack.
A sharp sting shot through you as Dabi’s palm came down against you. You gasped, fingers gripping the couch tighter.
“Dabi—!”
“Count.” His voice was low, but the command sent a shiver through you.
You swallowed hard, cheeks burning hotter than your skin. “O-One.”
Another slap, just as sharp.
“Two.” Your voice was shakier now.
Dabi hummed in approval. “Guess you can follow orders when you want to.”
His hand slid down your thigh, and before you could react, he bunched up your dress, shoving the fabric higher until cool air ghosted over your exposed skin.
You stiffened. “Dabi—what are you—”
“Shh.” His voice was calm, but there was an unmistakable edge of amusement. “You don’t get to talk right now, doll. Just stay still.”
Heat sparked at your lower back, small embers crackling to life against your skin.
It took you half a second to realize what he was about to do.
“Wait—”
A sharp, searing heat kissed the thin lace covering you, and before you could stop him, the fabric disintegrated, the flames eating away at your panties like they were nothing. The heat was there for only a moment—controlled, precise—but the sensation left your breath hitching.
Dabi smirked as he ran a hand over your newly exposed skin, fingers tracing where the fabric had once been. “Look at that,” he mused. “Nothing in the way now.”
The realization made your stomach twist, your face burning hotter than your skin. “Dabi, you didn’t have to—”
“Didn’t I?” His fingers pressed into your skin, the contrast between his calloused fingers and the lingering warmth making you shudder. “You think you can act like a little tease all night and just get away with it?”
You bit your lip, your body betraying you as a shiver ran down your spine.
Dabi chuckled, satisfied. “That’s what I thought.”
He pulled back, his palm smoothing over your skin before delivering another sharp slap.
“Ten.” You barely managed to choke out the last number, your voice unsteady.
Dabi let out a pleased hum, his fingers grazing over the marks he’d left behind. His touch was taunting, possessive, like he was admiring his work.
“Now, that’s more like it,” he muttered.
Your face was still buried in the cushions, heart pounding, body tense. The humiliation of it all burned just as much as the punishment itself.
Dabi grabbed your chin again, forcing you to turn and look up at him. His smirk was lazy, teasing—but there was something darker behind it, something pleased.
“Now, tell me, doll—” he murmured, tilting his head. “Are you done being a little brat, or do I need to teach you another lesson?”
Your lips parted, but you hesitated. The fire in his eyes told you that he wouldn’t hesitate to push you even further.
So, you did the only thing you could.
“I’m done,” you whispered. “I’ll be good.”
Dabi’s smirk widened. He leaned in, lips brushing against yours—but not kissing you, just teasing.
“That’s what I thought.”
And just like that, he pulled away, leaving you breathless, aching, and completely at his mercy.
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