Like A Big Girl!
Pairing: Neighbor!Dabi x Black!Fem!Reader
Synopsis: After moving into your first-ever solo apartment after breaking up with your cheating, lying ex, you get the surprise of your life when Dabi Todoroki, your hot firefighting neighbor and secret crush (one of whom also happens to be extremely anti-social) shows up at your housewarming party when he has made it clear that he isn't a "people person"...but maybe he's willing to make an exception for you after a smoke session on the rooftop and some intimate conversation.
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); No Quirk/Modern AU; Grumpy x Sunshine Trope; Neighbors to Lovers; Disfigured/Burned!Dabi; Burn Insecurities; Marijuana/Alcohol Use; Highkey Flirting; Shotgunning; Foreplay; Exhibitionism/Public Sëx; Rooftop Sëx; Fingering; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Deepthroating; LOUD Sëx; Dom!Dabi x sub!Reader; Doggystyle; Backshots on the Balcony; Scar Appreciation; Creampie; Scent Marking; Spanking; Mild Degradation; Aftercare
Word Count: 12.1k
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: I wrote this little hot ass fic about 2-3 years ago & decided to revise it for the new lovely readers ramped up in my following list. I hope y'all like this one! I'm gonna write more about Dabi's fine ass in the year <3 -love, Jazz
Credits: Dividers by @cafekitsune & @thecutestgrotto!
You’ve never been so nervous before until you’re sitting on your couch with a lukewarm tequila sunrise, waiting for your guest of honor to arrive.
You know you shouldn’t be. You know you should be socializing with the other guests currently occupying your brand-new apartment in celebration of your new accomplishment in life.
You should be laughing, joking, and flirting with the fine-ass men that Rumi insisted on bringing with her to help with catering and cleaning before the party started.
But you just can’t. The motivation to do so isn’t there, and the reason why is embarrassing. Rumi, who sits next to you on the couch, looks you up and down. Her stark white hair is piled up into a messy bun on her head and the red bodycon dress she chose for tonight hugs her toned body just right. If anyone is going to get laid tonight, it’s her. “You might wanna smile, babe. You’re scaring off your guests.”
She gives you a cheeky grin as she sips her whiskey-mixed drink. You’re so glad you managed to find a bartender to make drinks for tonight thanks to Keigo knowing him from his job. You’re even happier that your job’s salary allows you to pay him by the end of tonight.
“Shut up,” you mumble, but even her brash humor doesn’t make you smile an inch. Rumi rolls her eyes and turns to Nemuri, one of your other hot, longtime friends. “Muri, please get this girl another drink so she can smile.”
Nemuri stands from her seat in her sundress, looking like a sexy girl next door. “I’ll get you some water, honey.” She gives you a wink before making a dash for the kitchen, dodging between people and the wafts of weed smoke in the air. “I’m fine,” you grumble, glaring at Rumi. “And I have gotten out my seat. I’m the host, aren’t I?”
“Exactly!” Rumi replies. “Which means you should be walkin’ around and hosting. Not sittin’ here, mopin’ about some dickhead and worryin’ if he’ll show up. Plus, you know how men are: they show up when they want to.”
“Not true,” you scoff. “That’s a fact that is relevant to my ex, but not to every guy in existence.” Even referring to your ex without using his name is enough to make you want to down the rest of your drink. Not only did you decide to throw this house-warming party to celebrate your first big-girl apartment, but you also wanted to celebrate being free of the leech you called your boyfriend of three years.
“And I’m not moping, okay?” you sharply tell Rumi. “I just wanna make sure there are enough champagne flutes and food. If I get new guests, that means I need more, right?”
Rumi eyes you down, knowing damn well you’re lying through your teeth. “Whatever you say,” she sing-songs. Nemuri returns with the iced water, handing it to you. “Here you are, honey,” she coos. “What are we talking about?” Rumi is happy to fill her girlfriend in. “The fact that she’s ready to toss a wedding ring at this man who’s afraid of leavin’ his apartment for groceries. If she says that’s not why she’s got that sour face, she’s lyin’.”
“Hey!” you gasp, kicking at her ankle. “It’s not a lie! It’s the truth! This is the first party I’m hosting and it’s a lot to worry about, especially since it’s my first place.”
At the beginning of the year, you found your dream apartment complex. It comes with a pool, a tennis court, a gym, and a laundry mat along with central air, free wifi, and vending machines. The neighborhood surrounding it is quiet at night, full of kids during the day, and nearby a hub of parks, restaurants, and public transportation. It was the perfect place to begin the new chapter of your life. So, after putting down a payment, signing papers, and getting help moving in, you were finally living on your own three months later. Only a party could really welcome you into your four walls.
But so far, you aren’t enjoying it as much as you should be. And that’s all because someone you desperately want to see here tonight is missing.
“And second, Dabi isn’t afraid of leavin’ his apartment,” you criticize Rumi. “He’s just not a people person.” At least, that’s what Keigo told you when you met Dabi for the first time. “According to him,” he scoffed. “It’s just an excuse to not socialize, really. But he’s always been like that since we were kids.”
You caught that vibe from Dabi as soon as you met him several years ago before you met your ex. You met him through Keigo when he dragged him out to a club one spring night with you and Rumi. You heard about Dabi many times before: that he’s a firefighter; that he has dark humor; that he is kinda weird and awkward but still a pretty nice guy (according to Keigo).
As soon as you got a look at that soft, white hair and buff arms roped in tattoos, you were entranced by him. Though he seemed somewhat out of place, like he didn’t want to be there, he carried an intoxicating aura with him, like he was your favorite cocktail drink. His tee fit tight on his muscular body from years of firefighting and his wrists were dripping in bracelets and chains.
You were so taken aback at how hot he was that you barely noticed the burn scars. On his face, neck, and snaking up his arm from what you could see–healed, puffy skin from second-degree burns coated the left side of his face, cascading down his neck to his upper torso and disappearing down his shirt. Though his arm was roped in tattoos, you could see scars beneath the dark ink. They weren’t as bad as Keigo said they’d be, but they weren’t exactly unnoticeable either.
But when he spoke, all of that went out the window. Keigo sat him down across from you and Rumi, grinning. “D, you know Rumi already. This is my friend Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you,” you politely said, sticking your hand out for a shake. His crystal blue eyes, so intense yet mysteriously guarded, flitted up to meet yours. He took your hand, causing your heart to jump at how warm and calloused his palm was. “You too,” he murmured.
God, if you could have sex with a voice, it’d be his! Though it was raspy like he chain-smoked, it also traveled from your heart right down to your clit which jumped in your panties beneath your skirt. You had to cross your legs as Rumi and Keigo began to chat. Dabi would chime in here and there, but mostly just sipped his drink and looked around the club like a bored, lost puppy.
Dabi was fine as hell and unintentionally funny, but that wasn’t what hooked you. It was two weeks before you moved into your new apartment when he randomly hit you up while you were organizing boxes for move-in day. You were sweaty and out of breath so when you answered the phone, you sounded less than happy. “Yes?” you snapped.
“Uh…this a bad time?” Dabi asked, his gravelly yet smooth-like-chocolate voice in your ear. Your eyes widened and your heart jumped into your throat. “No!” you immediately replied. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was you. The ID came up as a possible scam.”
“That’s my fault,” he said, actually sounding apologetic. “I never gave you my number. Listen, I didn’t wanna take up your time. I just wanted to ask if you needed help movin’ in.”
“Huh?” you dumbly asked, your brain short-circuiting. “To where?”
“....Your new apartment?” he said, just as confused as you. “You’re movin’ in this week, right?”
A record scratched in your brain and you physically facepalmed yourself, mentally calling yourself a dumb bitch. “Oh, yeah!” you backpedaled. “Sorry, I’ve been moving boxes since this morning.”
“Well, lemme come up and I’ll help you,” he replied. You blinked at his offer, shocked at how easily he volunteered. “No, it’s fine! It’s just little stuff anyway! You don’t have to–”
“I’ll be up in ten,” he interjected. “I’ve got nothin’ better to do. Stay there.” Then he hung up, leaving you open-mouthed and horrified at your appearance. Luckily, when he came over, you had dried off your sweat and fixed your hair so you didn’t look a total hot mess.
Though you worked in silence most of the day, Dabi made sure to ask you what to put where and heaved heavier boxes for you, his muscles flexing as he did. When his job was done, he even offered to help you move your furniture around once you got it. Weeks later, he did so, helping Keigo lug your couch up the stairs and put together a table.
He did it all during his free time without asking for a dollar. You knew he didn’t like going out much, so to see him do it for you did something to you. Since then, you’ve always had a thing for Dabi. You call it a “thing” because you’re not sure what it is. Even when you were dating your ex, Dabi would always be at the back of your mind and in your wettest dreams.
Since he lives in the same apartment complex as you, you say hi to him whenever you can (just to be a good, friendly neighbor). But the thing is you barely see him. He lives on a whole other floor and has an entirely different schedule than you. That’s why you were hoping he’d come tonight: so you can get to know him more.
“How he and Keigo are friends, I’ll never understand,” Nemuri scoffs. They’re complete opposites!” Rumi smirks up at her as she squeezes a hand on her girlfriend’s ass. “I guess opposites attract,” she teasingly says, pulling a giggling Nemuri close to her. You pretend to retch. “Ugh, can you two please stop?” you whine. “I don’t need to be reminded that I don’t have a fairytale romance or that I haven’t had sex in two months.”
“Two months?!” Rumi and Nemuri exclaim in unison. You flush, averting your eyes as you sip your drink. “That’s what I’m sayin’!” Rumi exasperates. “You’re stressin’ over a guy as weird as Dabi when you should be flirtin’ and gettin’ laid! With a body like yours, you’ll find someone to keep you company tonight in no time. Someone better than the dickhead you left.”
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose as you begin to see your ex’s stupid face behind your eyelids. “Don’t remind me of him, Rumi.”
It’s been three months since you moved out of your apartment with your ex and officially broke it off with him after catching him with another girl. You felt in your heart that this was the man you were destined to be with, so you threw caution to the wind and went half on an apartment with him in a nice part of Musutafu after a year of dating.
The first five months were good, but then you started noticing how lazy he was. He barely cleaned, couldn’t cook, and argued about running errands when you asked him, even if it was just a grocery run. “You know I’m not good with groceries, babe,” he’d whine. “I always get the wrong shit and you yell at me about it!”
What irked you most about him is that he never tried. Not with anything…even the sex. It got too boring and old. It used to be amazing between you two, but after moving in together, it started seriously lacking. Though you cut him some slack because of his busy work schedule, the same old position (that being doggy style) can get tiresome.
Though you tried to spice things up with new lingerie, toys, or new kinks, he never seemed to want to participate or be interested in them. Those nights of nothing that lead into mornings where he left for work and left you alone were devastating. You started suspecting something was up the third year of your relationship, but you never ever suspected cheating.
However, fate forced those rose-colored glasses off your eyes when you stepped into your apartment one afternoon and found your boyfriend getting head from another woman. You were devastated, to say the least. Your first instinct was to leave and you found yourself crying to Rumi, Nemuri, and Keigo that night over wine. “I’m gonna fuck him up,” Keigo had growled, and you had to stop him from getting in his car to do so. “You’re telling me he cheated on you?” he asked incredulously. “He’s as dumb as he is a bitch.”
“You can stay here as long as you want, babe,” Neumri cooed, stroking your hair away from your tear-soaked face. “Rumi and I would be happy to have you…as long as you’re okay with thin walls.” And you were (or at least you told yourself you were every time you’d hear Nemuri scream Rumi’s name to the heavens). After Keigo and Rumi helped you get your shit and tell off your boyfriend, you moved out and bunked with Rumi and Nemuri while you saved up for a new home.
Your ex called and texted you constantly, begging you to come back and that he was sorry, but after you ignored each one, he stopped. It took a while to get over him. Even now, you still feel a lump in your throat over what happened–the lies; the betrayal; the utter disrespect to you and your home. But after a while, you managed to push through and finally began healing.
Rumi stares at you now, pissed that you’re being so stubborn but also looking empathetic towards you. “Fine, do what you want,” she sighs, “but I still say to get out of your funk and stop worryin’ about Dabi showin’ up. If he does, he does. If he doesn’t, it’s his loss and he needs to get his shit together.”
You try to ignore her words by gulping down the rest of your drink. When it’s gone, your body craves more to replace your feelings of pure shittiness. “I’m gonna go get another tequila sunrise,” you mutter to Rumi and Nemuri.
You make a beeline for the kitchen, not wanting to see your friends’ faces. You plaster on a smile for the guests, wanting to assure them that everything is fine and you don’t feel like you just wallowed in a load of shit in your pretty yellow dress. You finally make it to your kitchen, away from the music blasting and the constant chatter. The snack table and counters are littered with plastic cups, jello shots, alcohol bottles of alcohol, and food that you catered from your favorite restaurant.
You immediately go to the fridge where a pitcher of pre-made tequila sunrise mix sits next to some sangria. Nemuri appears behind you, obviously having followed you from the couch. She silently watches you pour your drink before she decides to say something. “Don’t worry about Rumi, hon,” she comfortingly says. “You know how she is: she’s blunt, but she’s only that way because she loves you.”
You lower the pitcher once your glass is full and place it back in the fridge. You don’t close the fridge though. The cool air feels good on your clammy skin. “I know,” you sigh, “but I don’t need to be reminded about how my recent relationship crashed and burned. Not to mention being lectured about Dabi. I’m not a kid.”
“So you are worried he won’t come?” Nemuri asks curiously.
“No!” you immediately protest, then pivot, fumbling with the straw in your drink. “I-I mean, not really. He just said he’d show up, so…I guess I was just hopin’ he’d stop by and congratulate me for the apartment since he helped me move in.”
You had invited him, after all. This was last week on a very warm Saturday morning when the summer heat was thick. It was laundry day and you were forced to lug a pillow sack of dirty clothes in an elevator, sweating in your biker shorts, bonnet, and Spongebob tee. You were prepared for no one to see you that morning, but fate had other plans when the elevator stopped on one of the lower apartment floors. You were headed for the basement where the laundry mat is.
The doors opened, revealing the last person you wanted to see that morning. “O-Oh!” you stuttered, taken by surprise by his sudden appearance. And the fact that he looked so goddamn hot. Dabi stood at the elevator doors in his usual black attire, except he had on sweats instead of joggers. You had to force yourself not to stare at his crotch.
“Hey, Dabi,” you greeted him, giving him a smile. Dabi only gave you a nod as he stepped into the elevator. You didn’t take it negatively. That was just Dabi–he never said much. He pressed the button to the lobby before the doors closed, leaving you closed together in the elevator box. You could feel the four walls closing in with him standing so near, especially when his scent invading your senses. It was spicy yet sweet like cinnamon with a hint of cologne. It was turning you on badly.
Dabi suddenly tilted his chin at the pillow sack. “What’s with the sack?” he muttered. “You got kids to deliver to or somethin’?”
You quirked a smirk at his joke. “Funny,” you chuckled. He smirked back, shrugging passively. “I try.” Just like that, the tension faded. “Just laundry,” you sighed. “About two weeks’ worth. I’ve been puttin’ it off since I’ve been still setting up my apartment.”
He nodded and you both fell into silence again that swelled around you. “Sooo where are you off to so early?” you asked, desperate to fill the horrible silence.
“Just the station,” he replied blandly. “Why they decided to have a meeting at the ass-crack of dawn is beyond me.” You nodded and giggled to yourself, only imagining the shit he had to put up with as a firefighter.
You gratefully smile at him. “Thanks a lot for helping me move. It made things so much easier.” He once again shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “It’s whatever,” he mumbled. “And no, I don’t want your money. You need it more than I do.”
“Ugh, you ain’t lyin’,” you groaned tiredly, your mind jumping from place to place. “I thought doing all the cleaning would be a lot, but I’m still getting used to the bills plus rent and groceries and…” You buttoned your lip and flushed embarrassingly, realizing you’d been talking for too long. “Sorry, I’m rambling. Not a good way to start your morning. Just tell me to shut up.”
Dabi shrugged, not looking annoyed. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for. Your ex was a dick, end of story. Plus, hearin’ you complain about him isn’t the worst thing I’ve heard in the morning.” He looked at you, looking deadass. “Try gettin’ an earful of that blonde bitch singin’ in the shower when he’s not laid up with somebody.”
You laughed then, glad you didn’t have Keigo spending the weekend with you; he chose Dabi for that. “How are your ears not bleeding?” you giggled.
Dabi smiled at the sound of your laugh–a real, genuine smile that made him even more handsome. The moment quickly ended though when the elevator dinged and the doors opened to the lobby. “This is me,” he muttered, his smile disappearing.
He began to head out, not even giving you a goodbye or a “have a nice day” or a “you look fine as fuck in those shorts, lemme get your number”. Nothing! Your heart thundered in your chest, realizing this may be your one chance to interact with him for more than five seconds.
Quickly, you jammed the button to hold the doors open. “H-Hey!” you abruptly called out. Dabi stopped and looked over his shoulder at you. “I meant to tell you: I’m havin’ this apartment-warming party next Saturday night. It’s a house-warming, but it’s for my apartment and uh…”
‘You’re rambling! Just get to the point, bitch!’
“If you wanna come, you’re welcome to,” you continued. “Keigo is coming, so I figured I’d extend the invite.” Dabi had an unreadable expression on his face as he stared at you as if trying to make sense of you. “So…other people are gonna be there?” he carefully asks.
You blinked at him. What a weird fucking question. “Well, yeah, but just some of my coworkers and people Rumi and I know. It’s just a small thing, nothing too big. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but there’s gonna be food, music, a little bit of weed…” You trailed off, hoping the weed would get him since he’s a smoker.
Dabi shoved a hand into his pocket and leaned back on his haunches. “I don’t really go to parties too much,” he admitted. “I’m not really a people person.” That definitely meant he wasn’t coming. “Oh,” you exhaled, disappointment blooming inside of you. “I get you. I just figured I’d–”
“I mean, I’ll still stop by or whatever,” he interjected with a shrug. “Don’t I gotta bring a gift or somethin’?” You tried to stomp down the happiness flooding your chest, but you couldn’t help it. “If you want!” you chirped happily. “I like plants…wine…gift cards…Beyoncè tickets…just some ideas.”
Dabi smirked humorously at your little witty joke. “Not sure about that other part, but I’ll see what I can do.” Then, without another word, he turned to leave. “I’ll see you later then!” you called after him to which he gave you a slight wave. Finally, you let the doors close on you, and though his goodbye was anti-climatic, you couldn’t get rid of your smile.
Now here you are, two hours into the party and he still isn’t here yet. Keigo isn’t either but he at least said he was coming straight from work. “Don’t be upset if he doesn’t, Y/N,” Nemuri coos, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I haven’t heard of Dabi ever going against his word, he’s very…different.”
‘Tell me about it,’ you think.
“He’s not a bad guy,” Nemuri continues, “but he’s not as much of a social butterfly as Keigo is, especially because of his accident. He might be afraid he’ll make people feel uncomfortable.”
As soon as the words are out of her mouth, you freeze, your brain processing the meaning behind them. Dabi never talked about his accident, especially to you, but according to Keigo, he got those burn scars as a child after playing with matches one Christmas night and setting his house on fire. Supposedly, this was because he was angry that his father aka that redheaded bitch Enji Todoroki didn’t buy the family any Christmas gifts.
Little Dabi found the matches sitting up on the mantel above the fireplace and ultimately set a spark that engulfed their home. Dabi was never the same after that, especially after nearly dying from the flames. Luckily, they left the left side of his face and body with scars–reminders of what happened. “He blames himself a lot for that night,” Keigo recounted. telling you the story some time ago. “Especially since his family lost so much. To him, he feels responsible for the fact that his family could’ve died in that fire.”
Though Dabi has a great relationship with his family besides Enji, he’s always carried around the weight of that trauma. And those burns. He can never ever get rid of them. He’s forced to wear them and be scrutinized by the world because of his disfigurement.
As soon as Nemuri’s words process, you feel sick to your stomach. “I never thought of it that way,” you confess, feeling horribly guilty. “Fuck, now I feel like a bitch! Here I am upset over him not coming when he owes me nothing, and yet–”
“Hey.” Like a light in the darkness, Nemuri emerges in front of you and firmly holds your shoulders. “Stop. You’ll ruin your makeup.”
She hands you a napkin and you begin to blot your Fenty Beauty foundation, hoping your makeup didn’t slide. “Just take a breath, get yourself another drink, and have some fun!” she encourages. “You need a night to forget about your ex and meet somebody you can spend the night with. Here, I’ll even help you! I’m great at matchmaking.”
You smile at her volunteering to help you get laid. “Thanks, but I think I’ll pass on scouting for dick tonight. I don’t feel like hooking up.”
And you don’t. All you want to do is drink, dance, and celebrate your first big-girl apartment. “But I do feel like having fun!” you say aloud before taking a jello shot and throwing it back. The taste of vodka and artificial orange immediately hits your tongue, just as your favorite song blasts from the living room.
“Ooooh, this is my song!” you squeal, already moving your body to the beat. Nemuri moves with you, happy to see you happy. “That’s the spirit!” she cheers. You two dance in the kitchen for a while until the doorbell rings. “Looks like more people came to congratulate you,” Nemuri giggles, squeezing your hand. “Go get it quick before the song ends.”
You nod and take your drink with you as you hurry to your door. You already feel better after the quick dance session and some more alcohol. You feel like you could take on anything now. You swing open the door with enthusiasm, happy to have more guests. “Welcome to my…” you begin to shout, grinning at your guests standing at your door.
But that smile fades when you see Keigo and Dabi standing at your door, each with a bag in their hand. As soon as Dabi’s cobalt eyes meet yours, you’re a puddle. “Home,” you weakly finish.
“Wow, what a welcome,” Keigo chuckles. “Thanks for havin’ us, babe. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.” He leans in to give you a one-armed hug before releasing you. “Hope you don’t mind I bought the enigma along for the ride.” He nods at Dabi who looks oh-so uncomfortable and delicious in his black tee and jeans. His icy blue eyes flick to yours before looking away to somewhere beyond your face. “N-Not at all,” you reply softly.
“And us too!” a familiar voice comes from behind Dabi. The voice belongs to his fine-ass brother, Natsuo Todoroki. You’re starting to think beauty runs in the Todoroki family. “Long time no see, Y/N!” Natsuo grins at you, running a hand through his snow-white hair.
Another familiar face appears from around the corner though it is hidden behind shaggy, black hair that reaches his shoulders: Tenko aka Shiggy, with his tattoos and gauges. “That’s ‘cause your deep in those nursing books,” he tells Natsuo before turning to you, dark circles under his eyes. “You got smokes in here, right? I’ve been tattooin’ people all day and I need a reliever.”
“Yes, and come in,” you giggle, opening the door wider for your four muscular, tall, fine-ass guests. They each walk in and you close the door behind them. As soon as they’re inside, Shiggy makes a beeline for the weed, leaving you, Dabi, Keigo, and Natsuo standing there.
“Woooow, kid,” Keigo whistles. “Cute place you got here. I really can’t call you “kid” no more, can I?” He actually sounds upset about it. “Yep,” you laugh. “I feel like a big girl!”
“You should!” Natsuo chuckles, a smile growing on his handsome face. “Especially without that emotional vampire suckin’ the life outta you. Oh, before I forget…” He nudges Keigo who presents you with a paper bag. “Housewarming gift number one,” the second oldest Todoroki kid says with a grin. “Dabi has the other. C’mon and give her the gift, D!”
Dabi glares at his brother, but pulls a little bag from behind his back. You look into both, finding a bottle of wine, a bottle opener, and some cute, multi-colored wine glasses in them. “Thank you,” you giggle. “I’ll drink it all tonight.”
“So where’s the food and the pretty people?” Keigo asks, a mischievous glint in his eye. You roll your eyes at his sluttiness. “All in the living room. Rumi and Nemuri are somewhere around here if you want me to–”
“Nah, kid, don’t worry your pretty head about it,” Keigo interjects, putting a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll definitely find them. You stay here and tend to your new guest…he’s gonna need it.” He nods at Dabi before giving you a wink. “C’mon, Natsuo!” he hollers, taking the white-haired man by the shoulder.
Natsuo gives you an apologetic look as he’s dragged off. “Take care of him, please?” he softly pleads before heading off with Keigo to stop him from harassing people. You turn to Dabi who looks ready to strangle them both. “Fuckin’ bitches,” he growls under his breath.
Standing among the music and the chatter, you realize that you two are alone. Well, not completely, but enough that it feels awkward without someone starting the conversation. Nervously, you swallow, realizing you’ll have to be the leader. “I-I didn’t think you’d come,” you shakily begin. “You said you weren’t a people person.”
“I’m not,” Dabi gruffly replies, “but I did owe you a gift.” Your heart leaps at his words despite his tone. “You really didn’t, but thanks anyway.”
He nods once more, his eyes flicking up and down your form. When you catch it, your entire body grows hot. Does he think you look good? If he does, would he say it? It doesn’t appear he’ll say anything at all. You clear your throat once more, attempting to break the ice that is quickly hardening. “Uh…so you want a drink or a tour of the place? I’d feel bad if you were just standin’ here.”
“What’s wrong with just standin’?” he deadpans, but you can tell it’s a joke.
“Everything, unless you’re a plant,” you tease. You earn a little smirk out of him, but that’s about all you get. So you start to ramble. “The drinks are really good. Keigo knows the bartender, so–”
“What?” he cuts in, straining to hear you. You lean in toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder to get closer to him. “I said Keigo knows the bartender I hired for the party!” you exclaim into his ear. “I also got catering if you want to–”
You’re rudely cut off when someone bumps into you. She’s one of your coworkers from the HR department, but because she’s so drunk, she barely recognizes you. “Sorry!” she hiccups. “Bathroom!” Quickly, she runs upstairs to your bathroom, holding her stomach as she does.
You turn to Dabi who looks even more uncomfortable now. You keep your hand on his shoulder, wanting him to know you’re here for him. He doesn’t move away. “I’m startin’ to think maybe you’re right about the standin’ thing,” he mumbles. “You got somewhere more private?”
It takes a moment for his words to process, but when they do, you swear you could touch the moon. He’s here for you. To talk to you. And you know exactly where to go for it. “I know a perfect place,” you giggle excitedly. “Get yourself a drink and I’ll get some smoke. Meet me back here in five minutes.”
Dabi looks relieved that you agreed. Quickly, he moves to the kitchen to get himself a drink, earning some eye-fucks in the process, regardless of his burns. Still holding your gifts, you make a beeline to the smoke section and force Shiggy to cough up the rest of the starburst-flavored papers and a baggie of weed.
The crew is sitting on the couch vibing to the music when you come over. Keigo and Natsuo are in awe of Dabi, pouring himself a drink, actually participating. “So I see you got him to move!” Natsuo laughs. “It’s a miracle!” Rumi, currently holding Nemuri in her lap as she chats with someone next to her, gives you a smirk. “Where are you off to?” she asks suspiciously.
You smile at her, unable to hide your giddiness. “To show my guest around. Hold down the fort for a minute.”
“Maybe more than a minute,” Keigo snickers knowingly. Rumi nudges him with her elbow as you flush to yourself. “You’ve got it, captain. Go enjoy yourself and your man!” You turn away, skin still on fire. “He’s not my man!” you call over your shoulder as you hurry to gather something to loosen you both up. “Yet,” you whisper to yourself.
Dabi meets you back in your previous spot with a red solo cup that smells of whiskey and sour apple. You motion for him to follow you out the door of your apartment and down the hall. “It’s right up here,” you explain, pointing up the emergency staircase. Dabi raises a quizzical eyebrow but follows you up the short flight of steps anyway.
When at the top, you push open the door at the end of the staircase, revealing the rooftop to your building. The roof is decorated with comfortable sofas, mini tables, and fairy lights that hang among the rafters. The edges of the rooftop are blocked off by clear, plaster walls that serve as barriers between the inside and the outside. You shut the door behind you and turn to Dabi. “You know about this place?” you softly ask.
He stares around the prettily-decorated rooftop, lips parted in awe. “Not at all,” he admits, bewildered. “I’ve been livin’ here longer than you and knew nothin’ about it, but then again, I barely come out my apartment.”
“I’m a sucker for rooftops,” you confess. “That’s what drew me to this complex.” You walk over to him, staring out at the view before you: glittering city lights and the sunset; line of fuschia that dips beneath the mountains far off into the distance. It truly is a beautiful sight. You suddenly feel warm, as if someone’s eyes are on you and turn to see Dabi unabashedly staring at you. “Goddamn, you are short,” he snickers.
You smack his arm, flushing. “Hey!” you gasp, mock-offended. “It’s not my fault I was given short genes! Just for that, you’re rollin’ for us.” You plop down on one of the couches and pat the empty seat next to you, motioning for him to sit. Dabi looks hesitant at first but sits down next to you anyway. He still appears tall even while seated.
“You sure your crib is gonna be okay?” he asks as he begins to set up shop. You wave off his concern, trusting your guests. “Rumi and Keigo won’t let anything happen to it. Especially Rumi; she scares people.”
He smirks at your answer and begins preparing a blunt, taking out a grinder and the little baggie of weed. You sip on your drink, watching him work, trying not to make it too obvious that you’re aroused. You watch him intensely, your eyes hypnotized by his fingers expertly sprinkling the marijuana into the paper and then working on rolling the blunt to absolute perfection. He’s so good with his hands.
Your eyes trail up his hands to his arms, admiring the muscle beneath the dark ink on his skin. One tattoo, in particular, catches your attention: the number 58 with a green dragon slithering out of the eight. “Nice tatt.”
“It’s my firefighter number,” he explains, eyes still trained on his hands. “The dragon is the department symbol. I inked it myself.” You don’t notice that you’ve gotten closer to him, your legs aimed directly at him. Your body is completely under his silent spell. “You do your own tattoos?” you ask, wanting to know more, anything more, about him.
He nods, jetting his tongue out to lick the paper. It is pink with a glint of something in it. You realize that it’s a tongue piercing and your clit jumps. He suddenly stops rolling the blunt and points at a few words linked across his right collarbone. “This one is the first tatt I gave myself when I was sixteen. It’s Latin for ‘don’t let the past steal your present’.” He then begins to recite the words in Latin, his rolling tongue making the inside of your thighs feel warm. “I didn’t know you spoke Latin.”
His eyes flicker over to yours, a softness to them. “There are a lot of things you don’t ‘bout me,” he murmurs, his tone low and sugary sweet to you.
You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, the privacy, or him, but it allows you to be even bolder. You scoot even closer, your body so that your hip presses against his. He doesn’t move away, but you do feel him tense. “Hopefully, there are some you’d be willing to share,” you softly reply, hoping he’ll read between the lines and see how much you want this.
Alas, he doesn’t say anything, but you do notice that his hip stays put. You don’t know if it’s intentional, but it has you feeling warm and tingly regardless. When he finally finishes the blunt, he lights it and takes a puff test before passing it to you. You take it gingerly between your forefinger and thumb and take a much-needed puff.
The smoke fills your lungs instantly and you exhale peacefully, watching the wisps of smoke disappear into the starry night sky. “Nothin’ like a blunt to ease the nerves,” you sigh contently, already feeling more relaxed.
“Are you nervous?” Dabi asks. His arm is tossed over the back of the couch, right behind your head. “Around me?” You flush, passing the blunt back to him. “Well, kinda,” you laugh awkwardly. “You’re just so…” You grow quiet, trying to find the appropriate word.
He takes a puff of the blunt. “Weird?” he finishes, quirking a brow at you as smoke billows from his mouth. He passes the blunt back to you. “I was gonna say quiet,” you reply. “I don’t think you’re weird.”
Dabi shrugs, looking out into the city lights. “I just don’t have much to say, but you ain’t the only one who’s nervous. Like I said, I’m not much of a social butterfly; not even at work. That’s Keigo and my brother. They dragged me out here tonight.” His eyes, like twin pools of the bluest water in the farthest Caribbean island, flick to yours. “But to be honest, I would’ve come anyway.”
You suddenly forget you’re holding the blunt and quickly place it down on the ashtray. “You would?” you ask, hating how breathless you sound. He shrugs like it should be obvious. “Well, yeah. I wouldn’t want that gift card goin’ to just anybody.”
You scowl confusingly at him and he smirks humorously. “Look at the bottom of the gift bag.” You do so, and sure enough, you see a silver $100 Visa gift card glinting at the bottom of the bag. You take it out, staring at it. Dabi looks sheepish, planting his hand firmly in his lap as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. “It definitely ain’t a Beyoncé ticket, but I hope you like it.”
Suddenly, the alcohol, the weed, and the scent of him begin to work their magic on you. All of your inhibitions and all logic are gone as you stare at his gorgeous, scarred face. “I love it,” you whisper, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in and press a soft kiss to Dabi’s cheek. You feel his soft skin and the slight prickle of stubble there before pulling away.
He stares at you, shocked, and you stare right back as reality sets in. ‘Oh, no…what the fuck did I do?’
“Y/N,” he says, your voice like a prayer on his lips. But before he can finish his thought, your phone rudely interrupts him. “Fuck,” you hiss. “I’m so sorry.” You scramble to pick it up and find your ex’s name flashing across the screen. “Dammit!” you snap.
“Who is it?” he asks, his brows furrowed. You show him, groaning with dread. “It’s my ex. I thought he stopped calling me, but apparently not.”
“He’s been callin’ you?” he bitterly asks. He does not sound happy about this. You slowly nod to which he demands, “Put him on speaker.” You stare at him, wondering if he’s deadass, but he’s not looking like he’s BS-ing you. Despite your better judgment, you do as he says and put the call on speaker before answering your ex with a curt, “What do you want?”
“Heeey, that’s no way to talk to your man,” your ex slurs into the phone. “What’s up with you?”
You scowl in disgust at his tone. “What’s up with you?” you shoot back. “Are you drunk?”
He snorts in response meaning he’s definitely drunk. “Not nearly enough. Just was thinkin’ ‘bout you bein’ alone in that big, empty apartment…but then I happened across your IG and saw your stories.”
“Yeah, and?” you ask cooly.
“You’re throwin’ a party a tour expense?” he snaps at the flip of a switch. “You want everyone to know what happened to us?” You roll your eyes. Everything is always about him. “Only my friends know what happened. And even if I tell people, it’s none of your business and you fuckin’ deserve it for cheating, dick.”
He pauses, letting your insult process, but the longer he’s quiet the more tired you grow. “Is this what you called me for?” you demand. “To argue? ‘Cause I’m not in the mood.” He makes a sound over the phone between a sigh and a groan, sounding exhausted. “Can’t we just talk about this?” he asks. “I just don’t get why you had to leave. We had three years!”
You scoff to yourself. The sheer audacity of this guy! Those are three years he decided to ruin; not you! “Can’t we just talk it out, Y/N?” he asks again, sounding absolutely broken.
Now it’s Dabi’s turn to respond. “There ain’t nothing to talk about,” he malevolently replies. “She already made it clear that she’s not interested in whatever you want.”
Your ex is quiet for a moment, taken aback by the new voice. “Who the fuck are you?” he spits. “Y/N, who is that?” Your brain short circuits trying to find a legitimate answer.
“Her new man,” Dabi growls. “And if you ever call her again, I’m pullin’ up to make you stop myself. You’re lucky I didn’t do that when I found out you stuck your dick in another chick. What are you, stupid?” You and your ex are silent, astounded by his words.
“And if you even think about comin’ over here yourself, don’t,” Dabi continues. “Take that as my act of kindness to you even though you sure as hell don’t deserve it.” Your ex is enraged, cussing, and slurring into the speaker. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he snaps. “You think you can just–”
“Don’t call here again, whore,” Dabi growls before he gives you a slight nod and you end the call. As soon as the call ends, you set your phone down and voice the one question that is burning you alive: “Did you mean what you said?” you ask carefully. “That you’re my new man?”
Before Dabi can even begin to explain himself, you softly, shyly, tell him, “‘Cause I wouldn’t reject that offer.” You lay your cards out flat, aroused by him defending you from your trash ex.
Dabi gapes at you, shocked, and then a hardened expression sets on his handsome face. “You’re not serious,” he scoffs with laughter. “You’re not.” You scowl at him, disappointed. That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “What do you mean?” you ask, confused. “You don’t think I want this?”
“No, I don’t,” he replies sternly, suddenly standing. You can see the wall that you’ve been trying to destroy building back up. “I think you think I’m a weird, introverted loser that you wanna take a ride on because it’ll be fun for the first few weeks while you’re gettin’ over your breakup.” He shakes his head, laughing to himself. “You could never want me.”
You stare at him, dumbfounded. “Why would you think that?” you softly ask, hurt for him. Dabi chuckles dryly. “C’mon now. Someone who looks like you with someone who looks like me?” He points to the scars on his face. “I’m not the man you think I am.”
“I don’t think of you as anything, Dabi,” you passionately say, standing with him. “I invited you here because I want to get to know you more. I always have, even when I was with my ex.” He turns to stare at you, shocked at your words. There it is: the truth, laid out in the open with only the stars as witnesses.
You move closer to him, gently taking his wrist in your hand. His body feels tense in your grasp. “Your scars mean nothing to me; they never did. Would you believe me if I said I’ve always liked you too?”
You take your other hand and place it on his chest, right above his heart beating as fast as a hummingbird’s wings. “Now that I know you feel the same way, nothing is holding me back anymore.” You stand up on your tiptoes and again press a kiss to his jawline, right on a burn scar. “I can handle this, Dabi,” you murmur against his ear. “I like it rough.”
That is all you needed to say to get Dabi to finally unravel.
You can only let out a tiny gasp before he grabs you by the back of the neck and presses his lips against yours. His kiss isn’t soft or careful. His kiss his rough; hungry; slow as he draws moans and gasps out of you. He kisses you like he’s been dreaming of doing it for ages. His lips are soft, the taste of whiskey, apple, and mint on his tongue. You let his hands move along your back and ass, squeezing the flesh there and making you moan.
Taking advantage of your open mouth, he slides his tongue alongside your bottom lip before slipping it inside your mouth. He moans hungrily as your tongue begins to swirl with his, swapping spit and exchanging breath. The act makes your pussy clench impatiently in your panties, wanting to be touched and petted. Dabi then pulls away enough to speak to you, his eyes hooded and dark.
“How long have you felt his way about me?” he murmurs hotly against your lips. “Tell me.”
His hand sneaks down underneath your dress to squeeze your ass.
You let him, biting back a whimper in the process. You barely know him and yet you’re letting him touch you like this right in the open. “S-Since you helped me move,” you softly stutter. “But I’ve always been attracted to you since we met.”
He begins to kiss you all over now: your neck; your jawline; your collarbone; your naked shoulders in your spaghetti straps. “Fuck,” he growls against your skin. “You’re too good to be fuckin’ true.” His hands roam up and down your hips and sides, squeezing and fondling. “I’ve been wantin’ your fine ass since we met.”
“How come you never…?” The rest of your question doesn’t reach your lips as he grabs you by your hips and pulls you toward him, so close that air can’t even move between you. Your bodies are pressed flush against each other, so close that you can feel a bulge in his jeans. He’s turned on by you. The fact makes you delirious.
His lips press against yours again as he walks backwards to the couch, never breaking the kiss, and plops down on it. He then grips you by the hips and coaxes you into his lap where you begin to straddle him.
His hands, so rough yet so warm, continue to fondle your thighs and ass, squeezing at the flesh and making you whimper into his mouth. Instinctively, you grind down into his hardened dick, enlisting a moan from deep within his throat. It travels right down to your pussy.
Suddenly, he pulls away with a soft gasp. His eyes are lust-blown, his lips pinker than usual. “Hang on…I wanna try something.”
With one arm wrapped securely around your waist, he moves to pluck the blunt from the ashtray. “You ever shotgun before?” he asks. You blink dumbly at him, confused, and shake your head. “It’s easy. Lemme show you.”
You watch with utter lust as he takes a long drag of the blunt, his eyes pinned on yours. Then, with one hand, he squeezes your cheeks, forcing you to form your mouth into an O. He leans in close as if he is about to kiss you again and, slowly, billows of smoke shoot out of his mouth and into yours.
You’re trembling with need and anticipation as the smoke fills your senses along with the sight of Dabi’s crystal blue eyes staring you down. “Nice, right?” he chuckles. “Now try it with me.”
You’re eager to try this new addictive activity, so you pucker your lips and puff on the blunt that he holds for you. Then, after inhaling a good portion of smoke, you slowly blow it out into his waiting mouth. But you don’t stop there. You lean in toward him and devour his mouth, desperate to have him. You’re wasted and high off of him. You pull away, leaving him dazed. “I want you,” you whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him.
“Bedroom?” he asks, a suggestive glint in his eye. “And before you ask, no, I don’t think you’re easy or that I’m a rebound. We already established that we’re two idiots who’ve been pinin’ after each other for months now.”
His words make you smile. Though you weren’t at all thinking about if he saw you as “easy” or if he was just a lay to get over your ex, it’s so nice to hear that all he wants is you. This only makes your need for him grow until it reaches an almost painful point. Your throbbing clit is testament to that.
“No bedroom,” you say, giving him an excited, sexy smile. “I want you out here.” Dabi raises a brow, not expecting your request. “Please, Dabi,” you plead. “I-I don’t think I can wait.” To show him that you’re serious, you begin to take down the spaghetti straps to your dress to reveal your bra. You don’t care if anyone sees. You just want him so badly.
The shock in his blue eyes is replaced with sheer hunger when he gets a look at those perfect tits in the pretty little bra you have on. “You little freak,” he chuckles. “Hop off me.” You listen to him and settle down next to him as he gets up to inspect you.
You bite your lip and watch him as he kneels down in front of you and opens your legs. When he gets a look at your soaked little panties, he almost looks pained. “Goddamn, mama,” he hisses. “You’re so wet for me. You don’t even need these little panties anymore.” His eyes flick up to yours and his hands still at your thighs. ‘Okay?’ his eyes ask.
Wordlessly, you nod, unable to speak. But he isn’t down for that. He begins to brush his fingers up and down your wet slit above your panties, paying close attention to your reactions. “Words, baby,” he growls. “Gimme words.”
“Yes!” you moan, your toes curling in your heels at the feeling of his fingers brushing your wet cunt. “Please, Dabi…please touch me.”
He gives you a wolfish grin at your pitiful reaction, but doesn’t keep you waiting. He loops his fingers through the waistband of your panties and pulls them down your legs you reveal your naked, sobbing wet pussy. “Shit!” he hisses, gaping at your sex. “You have the prettiest pussy, babe.”
“Thank y–!” Your words are cut off by a sudden gasp as Dabi leans in and begins suckling on your clit, eating your pussy like a starving man. He is relentless with his tongue slashes, flicks, and long licks up and down your slit. He moves his tongue like he’s a master at eating pussy, paying close attention to your reaction every time he does something new.
You’re loving it. You writhe and grind your hips against his mouth, trying to get him closer. Your pussy pushes against his pillowy-soft lips and wet tongue that writes nonsense across your wet lips and needy little clit. “You’re so wet,” he mumbles into your pussy. “Does doin’ this shit out in the open turn you on, mama?”
You moan in response, unable to form words, especially when he reaches one hand up to play with your breast. You take off your bra, hissing in pleasure as he begins gently pinching the hardened brown nipple.
This is insane! You barely know this man and not only are you letting him do this to you, it’s all in public. Anyone could walk up and see you. Or look across from another building. Or up from the sidewalk. It’s so shameful. So nasty. And so, so good.
It feels even better when Dabi begins to tease your entrance with his middle finger, dipping the tip in and out of your wet pussy. “You want this?” he asks, his voice nothing but a low growl.
You nod vigorously and he laughs. “So needy,” he teases as he begins to slowly slide his finger inside of you. “Your ex must’ve not be takin’ care of this pussy. He never made you feel like this, did he?”
“N-No,” you gasp, eyes blown as you feel your pussy stretch slightly around his finger. He quickly begins to aim up to brush against your clit as he slides his finger in and out of you. Not only that, but he begins to suck at your clit, sending waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
You can feel yourself quickly beginning to reach that peak to your climax. You don’t want this to end. You want to make this moment last. “Wait, Dabi!” you shout, writhing against him. “Stop! Don’t make me cum!”
He immediately ceases his movements and pulls away from you, glaring in confusion. “‘Scuse me?” he asks, not sounding happy with your protest.
You nearly laugh at his reaction. “I wanna make this last,” you explain. “I wanna make you feel good too. So stand up.” Dabi still looks pissed he couldn’t make you cum, but listens to you anyway. He stands up, mouth and chin glistening from your juices, and you stand with him.
Slowly, you begin to kiss and suck your essence off of his mouth, earning low moans from him.
Your hands slide down to his broad chest and you grip his shirt collar. “Off please?” you ask, peering up at him through your lashes.
You don’t even have to ask twice. In a flash, he’s stripping, tossing his shirt somewhere on the rooftop. You take a moment to admire his beautiful body–so hard and defined with muscle, ink, and burn scars that coat the left side of his body. His nipples, pink and hard, glint with two silver rings and his lower stomach is sinewy with white hair. He’s so, so pretty.
He must think your stares mean something else because he averts his eyes. “I know it ain’t picture perfect,” he mutters, sounding ashamed. Your heart leaps with fear, hoping you didn’t ruin tonight for you both.
Quickly, you try to fix things by gliding your hands up and down his hard body, admiring his well-defined pecs and abs. “You’re perfect,” you whisper before leaning in to peck his burn scars, running your lips softly over each.
The low moans and “mmm”s Dabi release are delicious to you. They only heighten your arousal along with the sound of the party still going on downstairs. The music and chatter are muffled, but the fact that it is so still near is so exciting to you.
You never saw yourself participating in public sex, but you suppose it takes the right person to bring the freak out of you. And you want to be the freakiest, sluttiest girl with this man.
To prove that, you begin to lick and suck along his hardened nipples, tugging on the tiny silver rings hanging from them. “Fuck, baby,” he hums, watching you as you work. His lips are parted and his eyes are hooded. He is completely entranced by you.
You begin to kiss down his hardened stomach until you come to his jeans already hanging low on his hips. You stop, your hands at his fly, and look up at him. ‘Okay?’ you ask with your eyes. Slowly, he nods, giving you the green light. You pull his pants and his underwear down in one go, eager to see what’s underneath.
You begin to think you bit off more than you can suck when you get a look at his cock for the first time. He is well endowed, thick, and curves upward so his dick slaps against his stomach when you finally release him from his trousers. White hair curls around his stomach and pubic area, but it isn’t like a jungle. But that isn’t what gets you: it’s the piercing that glints from the head of his dick in the moonlight.
You gape at his cock, not sure what to say or do. “You okay?” he asks, humored.
“Uh…” That’s all you can say. He’s just so, big! How can you get him in your mouth? You’re lucky you can even fit one hand around him as you begin to stroke him softly from base to tip.
Dabi cackles down at you, relishing your fear. “Don’t be scared of it, mama,” he purrs, taking his dick out of your hand and waving it in front of you. You watch, hypnotized. Dickmatized.
“You said you wanted to make me feel the way I make you feel, right?” he asks teasingly. “C’mon now. You can do it. Open that pretty mouth.”
Not wanting to disappoint him, you open your mouth and he slowly begins to slide his dick against your tongue. “There we go,” he coos. “Good girl. Take it all in.” You try, your jaw and mouth stretching for his size. “I’m guessin’ I’m bigger than your mans, huh?” he chuckles lowly.
“Mmm-hmm,” you hum around his cock, the vibrations causing him to moan. You relish the sounds, wanting more. So you begin to move your head back and forth, taking his cock in and out of your throat. You gag and spit all along his dick, causing saliva to drip down his balls and your chin, making your blowjob extra sloppy.
Dabi tosses his head back and rolls his eyes back, giving you a sight that is fit for porn. He’s so sexy. And to be able to make him feel good gives you the motivation to ignore your aching jaw and burning throat as you continue to fuck him with your throat.
“You’re doin’ so good, babe,” he grunts as he begins to roll his hips into your mouth. “At this rate, you’ll make me cum.”
You nod your head, coaxing him to do so. You want him to cum. You want to taste all of him in your mouth. But he surprises you when he begins to slow down his hips and pulls his wet cock out of your mouth. “No,” he growls. “If I’m gonna cum, it either has to be on that pretty ass or those titties of yours.”
You stare up at him, drinking in his spectacular body and dick standing at attention for you. You then decide that if you are to finally cum, you want it to be wrapped around his cock.
‘Fuck it,’ you think. You don’t care that you barely know him. All of that “getting to know you” shit can wait until after you get him inside of you. “Why not inside of me then?” you purr, standing up to take his hands in yours.
He blinks at you, dumbfounded. “Without a condom?” he asks. “I don’t have one on me.” You shake your head, pecking his lips. “I’m on the pill.”
That’s all you need to say to get Dabi to smash his lips hungrily against yours. “Oh, thank fuck,” he sighs, relieved. “I don’t mind beatin’ my dick to the sight of you in front of me, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t want your pretty little pussy wrapped ‘round me.”
His dirty words send shivers up your spine. “And you’re okay with this? I mean, we barely know each other and–”
“I don’t give a fuck,” he growls, already moving you back to the couch again. “I’ll take you out later, but right now, I fuckin’ need you. Now choose how I’m doin’ you before I lose my fuckin’ mind.”
You gape at him, dumbfounded and so, so horny. You’ve never had a man be so desperate for you before. You waste no time bending over the couch, presenting your ass and dripping pussy for him. You then look back at him, finding him standing there and stroking himself to the sight of you. “Like this,” you whisper. “Fuck me just like this, Dabi.”
Dabi is going fucking feral behind you. It takes everything in him to not shove every single inch of his hard, thick cock inside of you as he moves closer to you and begins to stroke your pussy with his cock.
“God, look at you, stainin’ up the couch,” he sighs as you twitch and quiver. “Anyone could see you like this, about to get fucked hard.”
‘I don’t care,’ you want to scream. Anyone can watch if they want. All you want is that dick inside of you now.
And then finally, he gives it to you. He goes slow, taking his sweet time to allow you to get used to him. As soon as his cockhead enters you, your jaw is dropping open and your eyes are blown from how stretched you feel already. No toy could compare to how warm and solid Dabi feels snuggled up in your pussy. Not even your ex could make you feel this full or this good.
Through it all, you breathe in and out, relaxing your body into the couch cushion. Though it doesn’t hurt, you’re feeling beyond stretched by Dabi and you almost collapse from the feeling.
You’re so glad to have the couch to grip as he takes a hold of your hips and bottoms out inside of you. “F-Fuck, Dabi!” you whine, gripping the couch.
He begins to bump his hips against your ass a little faster now, the sound of skin slapping filling the air as his heavy balls hit your clit. “Come on now, mama,” he huffs. “You wanna be a big girl, right? Take me just like one. Make me proud.”
He begins to fuck you harder, taking a handful of your breasts and fondling them one at a time.
The feeling is just too much. His dick strokes the most sensitive parts of you as your clit jumps with every slap of his balls against it.
And he’s just so deep! He is making you see stars that don’t even compare to the ones coating the night sky above the beautiful view stretched before you. You have no chance to take it all in, too busy taking Dabi’s fat cock as he fucks you into oblivion in your little sundress and heels.
“Feels good, don’t it?” he grunts into your ear. One hand moves to your ass to gently spank your ass, causing you to moan at the feeling. “Bet you’ve dreamed about this,” he growls to you. “Bet you wanted to get slutted out on my dick for so long. Bet you couldn’t wait for tonight. Bet you planned this.”
He leans down toward you, his lips grazing your ear. “Bet you’ve wanted to be my good girl for so long,” he growls before his hand comes down on your ass a little harder.
“God, Dabi, yes!” you scream out to the sky, gripping the couch for dear life as he fucks you harder. You’ve never felt like this before: so gone off that dick. Your eyes are closed and your mind is completely blank from the blinding pleasure you feel, each wave much bigger than the one before and washing over you.
The pleasure is just too good, and it’s starting to reach a deafening crescendo. You can feel it building in your core, threatening to snap at any moment. “Gonna cum!” you practically sob, your head thrown back. “Gonna cum for you Dabi!”
Dabi cackles behind you, putting a foot up on the cushion to get a better angle as he continues to fuck your pussy into submission. “Me too,” he grunts. “Want you take it. Take all of me like a big girl, baby.”
He presses his lips to your ear, leaning down so his dick is hitting that spot that has you seeing the entire galaxy behind your eyelids. “Fuckin’ cum for me, mama,” he demands. “Let me know how good I’m making you feel. Cream all over that dick!”
And you do. Moans and gasps leave your lips like a chorus as that chord finally snaps. You unravel, cumming all over Dabi’s dick. “Oh, my God!” you scream, your voice reaching heights fit for a shower singing session when you think no one is listening.
You cream all over Dabi’s cock buried deep inside of you as he talks you through it, telling you how good of a girl you are as he strokes your outer thighs.
“Gonna cum too,” he grunts, his hips snapping against your ass again and again as he chases his high. “You gonna take all of it, baby, hm?”
“Y-Yes!” you choke out. “Please, please cum for me!” You begin tossing your ass back to meet his thrusts, wanting to feel him burst inside of you. Finally, he grips your hips for dear life and cums deep inside of you with a raspy, loud moan that makes your stomach leap and your pussy clench around his pulsing cock.
You take every single ounce of his warm, creamy cum that shoots into your pussy, never once pulling away. You can feel it coating your walls, filling you up to the point where you curl your toes and shudder at the feeling coursing through your body.
Finally, Dabi’s hips begin to slow until he is sloppily fucking you, chasing the rest of his high. Then with a soft groan, he pulls out, but it isn’t over yet. His cock is still hard as he begins to slide the head along your lower back and ass, coating your skin in his cum. “So you smell like me,” he softly says. “So no other man will even try.”
You let out a weak moan as you feel his nut coat your skin and drip down your thighs, making them slick and wet. Finally, he releases you and you slump against the couch, exhausted and spent, but feeling so good.
After giving you some time to compose yourself, Dabi helps you fix your dress (without the panties) and fishes a napkin out of his pocket to wipe his cum off of your thighs. ‘What a gentleman,’ you think, giggling to yourself.
He seems sheepish and almost shy standing there, now in his briefs. “I didn’t…hurt you, did I?” he carefully asks. You slowly shake your head, still in a daze. “That was amazing,” you sigh. “I’ve never been fucked like that before.” A proud smile stretches across Dabi’s face. “Just whatcha needed?” he asks.
You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “Absolutely,” you hum contently. “I hope it’s what you needed too.” He hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to the crown of your forehead. “That and much more.” You smile happily into his chest, glad that it was just as good for him as it was for you.
For a while, you two stay like that: hugging in the warm breeze. Finally, Dabi clears his throat. “So…now what?” he awkwardly asks.
“Well, we can’t go back inside like this,” you giggle. You motion to your dress still hiked up on your thighs and his semi-nakedness, though you’re sure that his physique would be welcomed.
“And I think we both need to recover after those mind-blowing orgasms,” you purr, your pussy still sensitive from his dick beating it up. You curl up on the sofa and poke your bottom lip out at him. “Cuddle with me?” you coo.
Dabi chortles at you, rolling his clear, blue eyes. “Such a baby,” he chuckles. “You’re lucky I like feelin’ you in my arms.”
His sweet words make you flush in the breeze as he settles down next to you. He scoops you into his lap and securely wraps his muscled arms around you, squeezing you to him as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
You feel the same way. You loop your arms around his neck and cradle his head to your beating heart. “So is a date in order after this?” he curiously asks. “I’m not too familiar with this shit, so…”
You can feel the awkwardness radiating off of him. A laugh bubbles in your chest. Leave it to him to feel awkward about dating even though he just fucked you doggystyle on a rooftop!
“Yes, Dabi,” you laugh. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” You feel him smile into your chest and he squeezes you closer to him, making you giggle. You want to stay like this forever, wrapped up in him.
When your phone suddenly rings, you feel like shooting somebody. You whine as you grab your phone, Dabi keeping his arms wrapped around you so you don’t fall. “That’s Keigo,” you sigh. “I hope no one broke anything.” You answer the phone, going back to cuddling Dabi. “Yeah?”
“So I’m guessin’ you made our guest feel welcomed?” Keigo immediately asks. “You two have been gone for, like, an hour.”
“It hasn’t been that long, Keigo,” you scoff though you really don’t know what time it is. “How’s the party? Is my apartment still intact?”
“Don’t you trust me?” he scoffs. “So you and Dabi are together now? I knew it was only a matter of time until he decided to pull up his big boy pants and tell you how he felt.”
You scowl in confusion, your heart picking up speed. “How did you–?”
“Know?” he finishes and gives a laugh. “Kid, I’ve known this shit for years! It just wasn’t my business to tell. However, you can thank yourselves because you saved time. Now everyone knows you two are an item.”
Your eyes widen, hoping he doesn’t mean what you think he means. “Huh?” you dumbly ask, earning an eyebrow raise from Dabi.
“Everybody totally heard you fuckin’ up there, sis!” Rumi yells in the background. You hear laughter from Shiggy and Natsuo in the background. You feel like hiding in a hole and never coming out. Everyone heard you?! Were you that loud?!
“We turned up the music, but it could only block out so much,” Keigo chuckles, humored at your embarrassment. “I didn’t know you could get that loud. You ever consider singing?”
“Goodbye, Keigo,” you growl, cutting off his cackle by immediately hanging up. You toss your phone to the side but not before turning off your ringtone. You don’t want anything or anyone ruining this moment for you. “What’d he say?” Dabi curiously asks.
“Nothing,” you quickly reply. You slide off of his lap so you’re sitting next to him and snuggle back into his chest, holding him close. “Just that he’s an asshole.”
Dabi chuckles, wrapping an arm around you as he puffs on the rest of the blunt, smoke billowing into the starry night sky above. “Well, that’s just a fact, babe.”
THE END.
