MDNI — wax play, dacryphilia, pain kink, Dabi x reader, shy but obedient reader, overstimulation, squirting, riding, fingering, praise mixed with degradation, possessive Dabi, creampie, breeding implications, messy sex, crying from pleasure, hand on throat, marking, staying full, filthy language, and round two guaranteed. F!reader
„Cry Pretty for My Flame“
The motel room smelled like burnt sugar — that faint caramel scent that always came with his flames when he held them back just enough not to scorch. The lights were off, save for the flicker of a single candle sitting on the bedside table. He hadn’t lit it for ambiance.
You were already stripped down to your underwear, chest rising and falling a little too fast as he leaned back in the chair across from the bed — legs spread, cigarette dangling lazily from his lips as he stared at you like you were dessert.
“On your knees,” he said.
Your body obeyed before your brain could catch up. His voice had that effect — lazy but laced with threat. Dabi stood, sauntering close, towering over you. He pinched the candle wick between his fingers, flame flaring to life like it was nothing.
You swallowed. He smirked.
“Gonna be a good girl for me?” he drawled.
You nodded, thighs pressing together for friction. He clicked his tongue.
“Use your words, doll.”
“Yes,” you breathed. “I’ll be good.”
“Better be.”
He tilted the candle, letting a slow ribbon of molten wax drip over his thumb first — testing the temperature. Then his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up toward him.
“Don’t flinch.”
You tried — you really did — but when the wax hit the curve of your collarbone in a sudden, hot sting, your body jolted. A sharp gasp tore from your lips.
Dabi laughed — low and delighted.
“Oh, that’s pretty,” he murmured, watching the wax cool against your skin. “Do it again.”
He tilted the candle again — this time over your chest. Each droplet hit like fire and ice — burning for a split second before solidifying, sealing the heat against you. You whimpered — thighs trembling.
Tears gathered in the corners of your eyes — more from overwhelming sensation than pain. Dabi noticed immediately.
“Well, well,” he purred, crouching down so you were eye to eye. His hand dragged up your cheek, thumbing away one of the tears just to smear it across your skin. “Melting already, huh?”
Your breath hitched — half from embarrassment, half from how hungry he looked seeing you like this.
“I— I’m fine,” you whispered.
“Oh, I know you are,” he said softly — mockingly tender. “If you weren’t fine, you’d be telling me to stop.”
He tilted the candle again, this time letting the wax drip slow across your sternum — right between your breasts. Your body trembled, tears slipping freely now. Dabi’s grin widened.
“Yeah… that’s it. Cry for me.”
You whined, face flushing hot as the wax kept coming, each drop wringing a new sound out of you. The sting, the warmth, the way he watched you like he was devouring every second— it was too much and not enough all at once.
He set the candle aside finally, hands immediately moving to trace the hardened wax on your skin — pressing into it, cracking it slightly to make you shudder.
“God, you look wrecked,” he said with a groan. “And I haven’t even touched your pretty pussy yet.”
Your thighs pressed together instinctively.
Dabi noticed.
“Oh no,” he said, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. His eyes were burning — hungry blue. “Don’t hide it. Show me how wet that pain makes you.”
Your breath caught.
And slowly… you opened your thighs.
Dabi’s answering smile was wicked.
“Atta girl.”
Your thighs parted slowly — hesitantly — but Dabi didn’t miss a thing. His gaze dragged downward, lingering on the damp spot spreading across your underwear. His grin was all teeth.
“Knew it,” he rasped. “You fucking love this.”
He shifted forward, pushing you gently back until you were seated on the edge of the mattress. Before you could settle, he had two fingers hooking under your waistband, dragging your panties down your thighs in one smooth motion.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured, voice almost affectionate. “Can’t tell if it’s from the wax… or how wet you are.”
His thumb brushed against your inner thigh — feather light — just to watch you twitch. You tried to stay still. Failed.
He chuckled, low and delighted.
“You trying to behave?” His tone was mocking. “That’s cute.”
His hand slid up — and finally, finally pressed right between your legs. His fingers slipped easily through your slick heat, coating them instantly. You gasped, hips jerking up into the touch.
Dabi moaned softly under his breath.
“Fuck… listen to that,” he murmured, dragging his fingers slowly upward until he circled your clit in lazy, torturous strokes. “She’s fucking dripping. Over a little hot wax.”
Your face burned. Another tear slipped free.
He caught it with his thumb — but instead of wiping it away, he smeared it across your cheek again.
“There she goes,” he whispered. “My pretty little crybaby.”
You whimpered — torn between shame and arousal. He could tell. He loved it.
“Don’t hide it,” he said, pushing his fingers inside you without warning. Your back arched as he filled you — knuckles deep — curling up until your breath came out in a sob.
“Yeah,” he growled, watching you fall apart on his hand. “Cry on my fingers.”
He thrust slow at first — deep and deliberate — his other hand moving to your chest. His fingers ran over the hardened wax on your skin, pressing against it until it cracked. You squirmed at the sensation — pleasure blending with a sting as he began to peel it away, strip by strip.
The contrast was overwhelming — his fingers fucking into you, his other hand scraping heat from your skin, your tears spilling faster with every wave of sensation.
“Look at you,” he breathed, his own voice unsteady now. “Leaking everywhere. Can’t handle how good it feels, can you?”
You shook your head, another sob tearing from your throat — but your hips were grinding desperately against his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers.
He leaned in, breath hot against your ear.
“Say it.”
You blinked through tears. “S-Say what—”
“Say pain makes you wet.”
Your lungs seized. Your face burned. But your body… clenched around his fingers so tightly he groaned.
You swallowed hard.
“…Pain makes me—wet—”
“Louder.”
“P-Pain makes me wet—!”
“That’s my girl,” he snarled — and slammed his fingers faster, relentless now, peeling the last of the wax off your chest with rough, possessive strokes.
You shattered — crying openly now, sobbing his name as your orgasm hit like a tidal wave, soaking his hand, thighs trembling uncontrollably.
Dabi didn’t stop. If anything, he fucked you harder through it, grinning like a devil.
“That’s right,” he rasped. “Cry for me while you come.”
Your orgasm was still rippling through you when Dabi suddenly pressed the heel of his palm hard against your clit, fingers still buried deep inside you.
You jolted — overstimulated instantly — grabbing at his wrist like you meant to stop him. You didn’t.
“W-wait— Dabi— too much—”
“C’mon,” he rasped, voice tight with restraint. “Give me one more.”
You shook your head — but your hips were already stuttering against his hand, helplessly riding the pressure. Your tears smeared across your cheeks, hiccuping breaths escaping you as he ground his palm in slow circles.
“You can take it,” he growled. “I just watched you cry all over me. Don’t tell me you’re shy now.”
His pace didn’t quicken — it deepened. Firm, steady, wrecking you on purpose. Your vision blurred again. Your legs started shaking.
“Dabi— Dabi I—”
“Yeah,” he whispered, licking his lips as he watched you unravel. “Come on, doll. Be a mess for me. Soak me.”
It hit so suddenly you couldn’t even brace — your whole body snapped tight, and then burst as your orgasm ripped through you violently, gushing around his fingers with a wet slap against his wrist.
Water spilled down your thighs — dripping onto the sheets below. You choked on air — crying, trembling, overwhelmed.
Dabi’s eyes widened — pupils blown wide with hunger.
“Oh, fuck,” he said, sounding almost reverent. “Look at that. You squirted for me.”
You hid your face with your hands — mortified. He clicked his tongue.
“No hiding,” he said, catching your wrists and forcing your hands down. “Show me your face when you make a mess like that.”
You flushed hard — still shaking. He smirked.
“Good girl.”
He pulled back, wiping his drenched hand on your thigh casually, then reached for the candle sitting beside you — flame still flickering.
Your eyes widened. “W-Wait— I— I can’t—”
“Oh?” He tilted his head lazily. “Too shy to hurt me?”
You hesitated, biting your lip. “I just— what if I—”
He stood in front of you, grabbing your hand and wrapping it around the candle base. His other hand went straight to his belt, unbuckling it with zero hesitation. His pants fell loose around his hips — cock hard and flushed, already aching for friction.
His voice dropped, low and sharp.
“I said pour it.”
Your heart hammered. “But—”
He crushed your hesitation with one sentence:
“Make me feel what you felt.”
Your breath caught.
He tilted his chin up, exposing the scarred plane of his chest — purple staples glinting in the candlelight. His abs were clenched already in anticipation, chest rising heavy with need.
“…You want it?” you whispered.
His grin was feral.
“I need it.”
Your pulse roared in your ears. Slowly, hand trembling, you tilted the candle.
The first drip of wax landed on his collarbone.
He shuddered.
Not in pain.
In ecstasy.
A harsh breath punched out of him — his head tipping back, lips parting.
“Oh— fuck.”
You froze — stunned.
He laughed breathlessly — shaky. “Don’t stop now. More.”
You swallowed — blushing hard — but tilted the candle again.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip—
Each hit made his muscles tense beautifully — his cock twitched with every drop, precum spilling down his length. He was enjoying it. More than you expected.
“More,” he rasped. “Don’t be sweet. Burn me.”
Your hesitation broke.
You poured — not delicate drops this time, but a steady, hot stream down his chest, watching his skin tense and twitch beneath it.
Dabi moaned.
Low. Guttural. Real.
His hand snapped up, catching yours, guiding the wax lower — down the slope of his abs — stopping just above where he was aching for it.
“Good girl,” he panted, chest heaving. “Fuck— you’re gonna be the death of me.”
You stared — wide-eyed, flushed, breath trembling — suddenly addicted to the sight of him falling apart.
Dabi’s eyes lifted, blazing with raw heat.
He sat back against the headboard, legs spread wide, cock flushed and twitching against his abdomen — wax still cooling and flaking across his scarred chest.
“Climb up,” he ordered. “You’re not getting away with just watching me suffer. You’re gonna ride me while I’m still burning.”
You swallowed hard, pulse stuttering.
“I—”
“Now.”
His tone left no room for hesitation. Hands trembling, you swung a leg over his lap, straddling his thighs. The heat radiating off his body was overwhelming — both from his quirk and from the molten anticipation between you.
His fingers dug into your hips as he positioned you over his cock, the head brushing your entrance — slick and sensitive from your earlier release.
“Sit,” he growled.
You sank down slowly — inch by inch — whimpering as he stretched you open, your walls clenching tight around him. His head fell back against the wall with a guttural groan.
“Fuck— that’s it. Take it. Deep as it goes.”
You bottomed out fully, thighs trembling on either side of him. His cock pulsed inside you — thick, scorching hot, perfectly angled against the sweetest spot inside you.
You sat there, shaking — overwhelmed.
Dabi didn’t let that last.
He grabbed the candle still in your hand.
“You’re not just gonna sit pretty,” he rasped. “Move. And pour.”
Your breath hitched.
“I— at the same time—?”
He smirked darkly.
“That’s an order.”
You lifted your hips — feeling every inch of him drag through your soaked walls — before dropping back down with a wet slap that made both of you groan.
“That’s it,” he hissed. “Again.”
You bounced on him — slowly at first, then faster, your breasts bouncing, thighs trembling with the effort. Every thrust rubbed raw pleasure through you — your clit grinding against his pelvis perfectly each time you sank back down.
“Now the wax.”
Your hand shook as you tilted the candle.
Hot drops spilled across his chest again — and onto your fingers, making you gasp at the sting.
Dabi moaned — rough and raw — thrusting up into you hard enough to make you cry out.
“Yeah… fuck yeah,” he panted, watching you through half-lidded eyes blown wide with lust. “Burn me while you bounce on my cock. Use me. Ruin me.”
You moaned — louder than before — your shy hesitation drowned by the thrill of power and submission all tangled together.
You poured more — trails of hot wax dripping down his abs, pooling at the base of his cock where your bodies met.
It made him twitch inside you — made you clench around him violently.
He snarled.
“Faster.”
You obeyed — riding him harder, the sound of wet skin slapping filling the room. The wax cooled and cracked against his skin while heat bloomed between your legs with every thrust.
Your vision blurred — pressure coiling again deep inside you.
“D-Dabi— I’m— I’m—”
“Do it,” he growled, grabbing your hips and slamming you down harder. “Fuckin’ soak me again. I want you to squirt all over me this time.”
His thumb found your clit — pressing hard.
You screamed.
The orgasm exploded through you — violent and uncontrollable — liquid gushing around him as your body convulsed helplessly. You clung to him, nails digging into his shoulders, legs shaking uncontrollably.
Dabi laughed — hoarse and wild — chest rising as wax flaked off in pieces.
“Look at you,” he breathed, thrusting up into your overstimulated heat as you trembled around him. “You just baptized me in it.”
You slumped forward — boneless, panting — but he wasn’t done.
With a broken snarl, Dabi slammed you all the way down onto him and kept you there, forcing you to take every inch as his fingers dug bruises into your hips. You felt him throb inside you — hot and heavy — just before he jerked against you and spilled deep, heat flooding your core in thick pulses. You could barely breathe with how full you felt, his forehead pressed to yours as he held you still, groaning low like he was trying to brand the moment into you. Even when he was done, he didn’t pull out — he just stayed there, buried to the hilt, like he owned the right to keep his cum where he’d put it
#cats of tumblr
#lana del rey
