Dabi x Reader Smut (Non-Con)
18+ Minors do not interact. Violence/Sexual Themes.
sorry, I didn’t have time to proofread!
disclaimer; I don’t consent to this being reposted or reblogged in any format.
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"Have you ever thought about walking out into oncoming traffic?" I mumbled, swirling the last bit of my lukewarm coffee in about half a cup. The café was very quiet, the sun shining through the afternoon, casting long shadows across the sticky table, and my best friend, Rin, gave me her usual uninterested look that she had developed since grade 6.
"Only when you talk about some shit like that," she said, tossing a packet of sugar at me. "What is it that makes you so happy today?"
I shrugged, running my thumb over the crack in the porcelain. "The same old story. Didn’t get the part. Got the ‘We’ll keep you in mind’ email again." Even I was shocked by how bitter I sounded.
Rin sighed, leaning forward, her black hair glinting in the dusk. "You are better than those casting directors think you are. Fuck them," she continued matter-of-factly, as if my talent were an irrefutable law of nature.
The sugar packet rebounded against my forehead, but I was about to scowl until I heard the abrupt cessation in Rin’s playful teasing. She was no longer smirking, but there was an intensity in her eyes that was focused past me, and I realized too late that someone had crept up behind me. His hand was suddenly pressed against my mouth.
"Don’t scream,” a voice whispered into my ear, sounding amused and mocking. “We wouldn’t want your little friend here to lose her cute little fingers, now would we?”
Her chair dragged back as she rose to her feet, but he — no, Dabi — clicked his tongue. "Ah-ah. Sit back down, baby doll." His other hand flipped open to show the glimmer of a knife held between his fingers. Rin's dark eyes met mine, terrified, as she froze in place.
My jaw began to hurt as Dabi pressed even harder into my jawline. "Such a good little girl," he whispered. Whether he was talking about me or himself, I couldn't be sure. The bell at the cafe entrance rang softly as a pair of people walked in giggling, unaware of our presence. My legs remained firmly planted as I heard him whisper, "We're going to get up slowly, starting with you, princess."
The movement of my legs felt like second nature as I concentrated all my attention to the pain in my jaw and the tears that threatened to fall but were stubbornly held back. We walked towards the back hallway, meant only for staff, with Dabi leading us at his leisurely pace, as if he had already done this countless times before.
He staggered under the force of her shove as she hit the wall behind her. "What the fuck do you want?" she sneered, her voice shaking slightly with spite.
Dabi chuckled quietly, like music, almost, save for the shivers that went up my spine from the sound. "What do you want?" he asked, tilting his head to let the faint light illuminate the scar tissue marring his face. "A little cooperation would be nice," he said idly, making a circling gesture in mid-air with his free hand.
The tip of the knife creased the material of Rin’s shirt. Without a second thought, I sprang forward, only to feel the kick of Dabi’s foot knock my legs from under me. I landed with a loud thud on the hard concrete floor. Before I could get back up, his boot crushed my hand to the tile.
"Bad choice," he said with regret, even though there wasn’t really any room for regret. Then he chose to move, and quickly too. The blade glinted in the sun. Rin cried out, bringing both hands up to the neck, where there was now a thin line of blood welling up from a wound. Her mouth opened, but only gurgled liquid sounds came out.
He leaned forward, tilted head, watching her drop to the floor in a pool of blood under the greenish glow. "Pity," he whispered, tapping her knee with his foot. "She had guts."
By the time I tried to yell, Dabi's fingers were already wrapped around my neck, but not quite suffocating me. "Not now," he warned with a shake of his head, hauling me up without much effort at all. "No drama, please." He spun the bloody knife around in his hand carelessly, expertly. My heart raced under his palm.
He leaned in close enough that his breath whispered in my ear. “You’re coming with me,” he said softly, as though it were our own private secret. His words slipped beneath my skin, taking root in some cold place within me. His other hand caressed the back of my arm, his fingers lightly brushing across goosebumps until his hold on me became painful. “Try to escape,” he said casually, “and I’ll cut you open right here.”
I nodded, the gesture stiff. Rin's lifeless body was strewn out behind him, her vacant eyes staring into oblivion, beyond me. The smell of copper and old coffee beans filled the air.
Dabi’s grin stretched from ear to ear, exposing his teeth. “Good.” He tugged me along, causing me to stumble behind him because my legs were about to give out. The exit came into view. A beam of light was peeking from under the door. He kicked the door open.
The alley was empty, filled with bags of trash stacked up by the dumpster, with the odor of decay being so strong that I could almost taste it. Dabi’s hold on me never faltered, pulling me towards an unmarked car parked at a slight angle at the entrance to the alley. The trunk clicked open, but there was no need for any inquiries; he just threw me inside, hissing through my ears with each step.
The tires screeched as we sped away from our pursuers. I counted lefts and rights as each bump sent shocks through my body. My ribs pressed against the spare tire. The car stopped and Dabi pulled me the trunk by grabbing onto my jacket. I felt the cold pavement meet my knees as pain ran through my legs.
“Up,” he commanded, kicking me with his foot. There was no trace of the blade, but still, the menace was hovering between us. I rose up, unsteadily, and he laughed and then took my elbow as though escorting me home.
There was silence during the elevator ride, as he traced circles on the underside of my wrist. The elevator opened to reveal a narrow corridor lined with a thin carpet and heavy with must. Apartment 4B. He clicked the lock open with the key in his hand.
Inside, there was an unexpected cleanliness—there was one lamp which gave off an amber glow, shining over the old sofa, the coffee table that bore scars, and the television giving off a humming sound of static electricity. There were no pictures and no messes, just the faint smell of cigarettes lingering on the curtains.
The room was hardly bigger than the bed itself; it was messy but clean. He pushed me into it and I fell down on the bed, which gave a sigh with me falling on it. Without giving me a chance to get up, he jumped on me and forced me down.
He whispered, "Stay," as if there were any alternative. His hands moved from tracing my collarbone lightly to pulling at the neckline of my shirt, tearing it with one quick movement, and the buttons fell to the floor with a clatter. Chills ran up my spine at the contact with cold air, and his eyes watched the chill travel downward.
He bent over and kissed me on the ear. “You look prettier when you don’t talk.” He moved his hand from my hip to my thigh, and his fingers dug into my flesh. I gritted my teeth and tried hard not to respond, but my heart beat furiously.
His fingertips grazed the waistband of my jeans, their rough texture causing a friction with the sharp edge of my hip bone. I felt myself hold my breath, staring at the mark growing over our heads in an effort to somehow keep my mind from what was going to happen here in the room. The soft material of the jeans brushed roughly against my skin as the buttons were unclasped and zipper slowly dragged down.
"Feels cold," he whispered as if making an observation about the temperature. With one hand caressing a lazy circle near my navel in a distracted fashion, his other hand ripped my clothes from my thighs. Creaking as he maneuvered, his knees bore down on my hips to hold me firmly in place. Tears welled up in my eyes despite my efforts to keep them closed.
Dabi clicked his tongue. “None of that,” he said, and some metallic sound came close to my ear. It was a buckle of leather, and the leather was stripped off with an eerie whisper as it fell down on my face. My nose caught the smell of sweat and gun oil from it. Dabi’s hands came back again, but now he had grabbed hold of my wrists and yanked them over my head.
"'Smarter that way,' he remarked, leaning back onto his haunches in order to take in his handy work. Shadows were cast under his cheek bones from the pale lighting, the scars around his chin glowing with a faint blue hue. His eyes ran down the length of my body, pausing wherever my underwear—the thin cotton material was colored in shades of lavender with tiny daisies printed on them—still clung to my hip area. These had been a gift from Rin at my last birthday.
Dabi slipped a finger under the waistband and slowly pulled it down my legs. The cold air slapped against me like a whip as my skin broke out in goosebumps. Dabi hummed, that humming coming from deep within him, causing the bed to vibrate as he bent over again. His hand laid itself against my inner thighs, spreading me apart in a professional manner. “Pretty,” he noted, but there was a disinterested undertone to his words.
His first touch was so light that it made me jump – just enough for him to chuckle at me. “Sensitiverecord”, he remarked, circling the pad of his thumb around the engorged nub with deliberate mockery. I bit back a scream, tasting the metal flavor of blood in my mouth. “Stubborn, “ he corrected himself, applying pressure.
The friction stung—not pleasurable at all, just pure unadulterated sensation. He was not being violent, nor tender; he was being precise, almost categorizing each reaction I had as it occurred. His other hand ran up along my rib cage, scratching barely visible marks with his fingernails. “Breathe,” he said, making small circles with his thumb that made me move involuntarily.
This involuntary response brought a smirk to his face. His fingers continued to trace downwards, finding that there was a slippery substance where I did not know there was one—the ultimate betrayal. “Huh,” he said, running his finger into it and then bringing it up to his mouth. The sight of him licking his fingers disgusted me. “Not so stubborn there, are you?”
His laughter was grim as he bent closer, his breath warm against my thighs. His tongue began to slide, slowly and deliberately, marking a burning line from entrance to clit, eliciting a stifled cry from my mouth. "Ah there we go," he whispered, pressing his lips to my sex as though sharing a secret kiss.
When he thrust his tongue inside for the second time, it was not gentle. He forced my entrance with fast, experienced movements, moving the broad surface of his tongue against my delicate skin until I began to shake. My teeth sank into a whimper when my hands, which were tied above me, dug into my palms.
He thought aloud, pulling away just enough to talk. He was breathing warm breath on my heated skin. “Tastes of fear,” and then something else,” he said. His teeth nibbled at my clitoris. “Not yet,” but the implication was clear from the way that I was held down. “No, no, princess. Stay still.”
The next kiss was slower, more appreciative, his tongue tracing around my clit with torturous attention to detail. My nerves were alive and overstimulated, yet he wouldn’t stop—only continued licking me like he was trying to eat me up. His fingers reentered the picture, two penetrating me without any warning, curving to bring me into further ecstasy.
The unexpected pull hurt— not only due to his intrusion but also due to how he did not take a moment to stop and ask and did not even think about lubing himself up before taking me hard with one vicious plunge. My breath escaped me in a surprised exhale; my ribs throbbed against the wooden headboard when he slammed into me until our pelvises touched. The sound he made was full of satisfaction, and his fingers dug deeply into my thighs, marking me with crescent-shaped bruises the next day. "Tighter than I expected," he thought aloud, circling his hips to make me twitch.
I bit my lip hard, not making any noise, even as my body started betraying me and fluttered about him uncontrollably. Dabi smiled again, pulled himself half-way out, and then forced himself into me with such force that a choked gasp escaped me. "Here we go," he whispered, leaning down to lick away the tears sliding down my face. He never stopped for a second once he got started and with every thrust, I slid a little higher up on the bed, feeling the burn of strained tendons in my wrists.
His fingers traced upwards along my torso, coarse hands tracing along my rib cage until finally wrapping around my neck, not pressing down, simply holding, a message without words. His thumb pressed against the pulse beating rapidly in my neck, his voice whispering against my ear, "Look at you," thrusting into me with a slow, rolling motion of his hips. "Taking this so well."
I tried to look away, but he caught my chin, making me look at him. He had dark eyes, dilated pupils, yet there was something disturbingly scientific about him—the way he seemed to observe me, committing everything from the way I struggled for breath to the way my fingers tensed against the restraints to memory. He thrust suddenly and sharply, and I couldn't help but arch against him, breaking off a strangled sound. Dabi laughed and used his other hand to touch me where he entered, stroking circles around my clitoris. "Do you feel that?" he asked, pressing hard enough to make me see stars. "Your body knows what it wants."
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes back, emitting an involuntary groan that rasped across my vocal cords. It felt as if lightning bolts shot straight through my body at once, scorching my flesh, and then there was the feeling of having my clit mercilessly toyed with by Dabi’s fingers. Each time he drove his cock into my body and hit that spot that made me burn with desire, I couldn’t help but gasp for breath.
Dabi chuckled into my neck, the heat of his breath searing through my damp flesh. "There you go," he purred, smugness coating his tone. "Show me how much you like it." He thrust into me, eliciting a moan from me that could only be described as guttural. His hands tightened around my neck, not enough to stop the flow of air but just enough to keep me aware that I wasn't the one in charge.
I despised it. Despised the way my hips rose up to match his movements, how my legs shook with every muscle tightening further within me. Despised the way his mouth twisted into a smile whenever he felt my body clenching around him, his fingers leaving marks on my hips as he kept me pinned beneath him. "So close already?" he asked mockingly, grinding his hips in an infuriating rhythm. "You’re such a greedy whore, huh?"
Words would have cooled the burning heat that was accumulating in my lower abdomen. They didn’t. Rather, they created a new wave of shame that crashed over me as I struggled to breathe steadily in the face of his thumb’s increasingly erratic circling motions against my clit. Pleasure surged up inside me like a wave ready to break, my muscles tightening in anticipation of the release that seemed inevitable now. Dabi caught his breath at the realization that I was about to come, his movements becoming erratic. "Cum for me," he demanded roughly.
His fingers slipped inside my mouth before I had time to bite—callused fingers brushing my tongue and the acrid smell of gunpowder and copper invading my nose. I tried to choke him, my teeth sinking in, but he only laughed, pressing harder until I could feel the pain. “No biting,” he said, continuing to move his fingers through my body with precise movements. “Or I’ll break them.”
The fear pulsed through my body as he applied pressure to my clit with his thumb, his fingers spreading my mouth open while his cock dragged itself through my hole, sending electric shocks up my body. My scream was stifled by his fingers, and as I felt saliva gather around my mouth, my mouth choking from the penetration. With widened eyes, he observed me, his lips partially parted as he hammered himself into me.
Then, without any forewarning whatsoever, he wrenched his fingers away from me, strands of saliva hanging off them as he dragged the mess across my face. “Better,” he muttered, sounding approving for once as he grabbed hold of my chin, jerking my head to the side, and ran his tongue in a hot trail up my face, licking up everything he had made of a mess. And I convulsed, my insides churning at the intimacy of it all, at how intimately he had just touched me.
It happened again—there it was, that sign I recognized only too well in the tension of his hips and the bruising grip on my thighs as he forced them down. It came out in a low, gruff groan as his head dropped, pressing against my collarbone, causing him to stumble in his rhythm. “Take it,” he barked, the demand clear in the desperate sound of his voice. My body did what it was commanded without thought, clenching around him as he pounded into me one last time.
The climax ripped through my entire body as though I had been struck by a live electrical current, causing me to go blind from the intensity of the feeling as my body contorted and jerked in response. I arched my back off the bed, straining as the sharp pleasure took control of me wave after wave.
"Fuck," he spat out, digging his nails into my hips with enough force that they bruised. His movements became more frantic, hips thrusting sharply forward as he pursued his orgasm. The headboard thudded against the wall, but was drowned out by his harsh breathing.
My entrance was accompanied by a sob, my thighs quaking uncontrollably as moisture poured from within us, lubricating his erection as he penetrated me with it. It was all too much, not nearly enough, each pull of his hips generating waves that traveled up my spine. Dabi’s hand reached up to take hold of my neck once more, his thumb settling against my pulse.
“Good girl,” he said in a low voice, his voice raspy from the dangerous edge of compliment. His hips jerked, and his cock spasmed inside of me as he neared his climax. “Look at you,” he whispered, staring at our connection, his fingers working to spread me open so he could see himself enter me. “So damn beautiful when you come.”
It felt like an eternity passed—the warmth of Dabi’s body pressing hard against mine, his labored breathing fanning out across my collarbone. In that final gasping breath, he pulled away from me, leaving me bereft and trembling at the sudden lack. His seed spurted hot against me, the sticky mess slowly seeping down to wet the bed below. He inhaled sharply, his fingers running languidly through the mess, as if examining his own masterpiece.
"Dirty," he said, wiping his hands on my abdomen in a carefree gesture. He straightened on his haunches, his penis dripping and wet, and stared at me with that same curious detachment—as though he had figured me out and found me boring. My wrists were bound by a belt, which made a loud sound when I moved.
Dabi leaned across me, his forearm sliding against my cheek while he released the tie with one fluid motion. My fingers tingled as fresh blood flowed through them, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but lie there and let him strip off his shirt. His zipper made an obscene amount of noise as he pulled it down.
He walked over to the dresser, digging around in one of its drawers before throwing me a balled-up towel. It hit my chest, its coarse material making contact with my oversensitive skin. "Wash yourself," he said, matter-of-factly, as if pointing out the weather, before leaving me sitting there, completely ruined.
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