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Train Stalker: Part 1- On the Train
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[NSFW] ‼ 18+ >MDNI<
Part 2
Summary: Your stalker follows you onto the train, taking advantage of the crowded place.
But it turns out he's someone familiar to you.
Pairing: Stalker Dabi/Fem Reader
Content Warning: Sexual Assault, Chikan, Noncon Groping and touching, Turns Consensual, Dubcon, Public Sex, Public Transportation(Train), Fingering, Humiliation, Degradation, Self Degradation and Blaming, Victim Blaming, Stalking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Word Count: 3k
Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi
A/N: Had this in my drafts for a while, contemplating to post it lol
I Do Not condone this, Stalking or Assault. I don't think I should have to say that, but just in case. Don't Like? Don't Read.
My Masterlist
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You don't really want to go to this company dinner.
What with the constant judging and personal questions, not to mention the token creepy guy, it's just never worth it.
But your only work friend begged you to come, and you're unfortunately inclined to be a good friend, so here you are on the train, on your way to the venue.
There was an accident on one of the main subway lines, and traffic is horrible and rush hour is still unforgivingly a thing.
There's so many people confined in this one small subway carriage, you're practically packed like sardines. You'd gotten on early, before the influx of people, and it would be a good thing if it wasn't for that fact that you just might spend the rest of the ride sandwiched between the mass of bodies and the corner walls of the carriage.
Things are somewhat bearable for a while. You zone out, trying to think of a passable excuse to get out of this thing that would maybe make your friend believe you.
When nothing comes to mind, your thoughts stray again, this time to your most likely stalker. You sometimes feel eyes following you, lingering for a bit too long. The gaze burns, yet you could never find where it comes from. Even today, as you left your apartment, you could feel them watching you.
And of course, when you went to report it, you were written off as "paranoid" and "imaginative".
Useless fucks.
Before you can dwell on it further, the train lurches, making the crowd shuffle and push, and you end up being further plastered to the wall.
You push back against the people surrounding you in an attempt to reclaim some of your space, only to freeze when you feel a hand pressing against the small of your back.
Your first thought that comes to mind is that you really hate public transportation.
Your second is that the hand is big and warm.
A lump forms in your throat as you swallow your voice. You decide to give the stranger the benefit of the doubt, hoping that it's just an accident; a misunderstanding, as you wait for them to pull away.
But instead, the stranger moves his hand down, resting it on your ass; and squeezes.
A gasping yelp escapes your throat, which goes unheard in the drowning noise of the train and surrounding people.
You curse under your breath as you feel a weight settle over you, pushing you even closer to the wall, till you're completely trapped between the corner and a broad chest; the heat and pressure of the stranger's body suffocating and overwhelming.
You can't believe this is happening.
Taking a deep breath, you try to calm down, contemplating your options.
Maybe someone will notice.
You try to look behind you at the packed carriage, but you can only see a black hoodie and a tall frame. Dread washes over you as you realize the stranger's body is completely shielding you from the view of the other passengers; from the posssibility of someone noticing what is happening.
You know. You know you should scream out for help, but you just can't bring yourself to. The thought of bringing attention to yourself like this, to reveal what you've allowed to happen to you is...humiliating.
There's a fleeting thought to defend yourself, but your body is completely frozen; the fear keeping you rooted in place.
And all you can do is clench your eyes and grit your teeth as you feel a second hand move up to grip at your hip, holding you in place, as the first slips beneath your skirt, sliding up your thigh to your underwear.
"Oh?"
You flinch upon hearing the stranger speak, low and breathy, right into your ear. His voice is deep and rough, his breath hot on your skin.
There's a passing thought that he sounds vaguely familiar, but it's quickly pushed aside as he continues.
"Lingerie in public, hm?" His fingers toy with the fabric of your panties, tracing the delicate lace; and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he taunts, "Slut."
A mix of shame and indignation runs through you, yet your body heats up as the stranger continues to play with your underwear.
Hot breath against your neck, mouth dangerously close to the tender skin, sends goosebumps along your skin. An involuntary shiver goes up your spine when his fingers slither underneath your panties, trailing over the soft, round flesh of your ass, his touch feather-light.
A pathetic, whimpering sound of refusal spills out of your quivering lips, which is of course ignored.
Your eyes sting when the stranger's lips meet your neck; his mouth closing around the tender flesh, rough skin and metal...piercings?...grazing your skin. An embarrassing little sound catches in your throat when he licks and sucks at your pulse, marking you. It dissolves into a sob when the hand on your hip slides up your shirt, slipping under your bra to fondle and grope your breasts, and something terrifyingly close to a moan slips past your lips when a thumb brushes over your nipples. Traitorous jolts of arousal run through your body, pleasure clouding your senses.
You come back to yourself when you feel him pressing against you, his chest warm against your back, and something twitching against your lower back and oh fuck that's his dick.
You let out a pathetic little whimper at that, and then you feel his fingers begin to trail along your inner thighs and slide further up between your legs, and a mix of dread and anticipation washes over you as they reach your crotch.
"Look how wet you are," he hums into your ear, fingers brushing up and down your slit through your soaked panties, and you can't help the feeling of shame and disgust with yourself when you realize just how aroused you are. And how good the touch of this stranger feels. "Fucking slut... You actually want this, hm?"
"N-no," you choke out, "I-I don't—,please—"
"Shh, be quiet, Y/N. We don't want to make a scene, yeah?", the stranger coos, voice a soft murmur, yet tinted with the threat of danger, as he gives a squeeze to your tit. Your heart speeds up, adrenaline pumping through your veins, as you freeze at the sound of your name, spilling like honey from this stranger's mouth.
This man knows you.
This wasn't random.
You were targeted.
Your mind races at that, and you hysterically think to yourself, 'Well, I found my stalker! Useless! Fucks!'
Yet it does nothing to curb the steady arousal licking up your spine as a heated, sleek finger pulls your panties to the side and runs along your slick folds, your body trembling. Anticipation and fear pool in your tummy, yet it's drowned out by the hot, shameful arousal there.
You suck in a sharp breath as you feel the tip of his finger prodding at your entrance, petting at it, before slipping in with embarrassing ease; you clench around the intrusion, but you're so wet that it does little to stop his finger from making a home in your tight heat.
With a bitten off whimper, you scramble for something to hold onto along the uselessly smooth wall as he slowly pumps the thick digit into you.
Almost too soon, he pushes in a second finger, his other hand still tugging and pinching at your nipples, and you desperately try to swallow your moans.
Which is futile as he slowly thrusts them inside you, curling his fingers and caressing your walls, and stretching you, scissoring you open so good.
Long and thick, the stranger's fingers reach all the right places, making you squirm and shake, and your hand clamps around your mouth as you feel a whimpering moan bubbling up your throat,
Your neglected clit aches to be touched, as he finally adds a third finger and you gasp at the delicious stretch; his hot fingers rubbing at your walls making you melt.
He breathes heavily into your neck as you squirm against him, the slow thrusts maddening. He gradually speeds up, into something rough and mouth-watering, fucking his fingers into you at an intense, mind numbing rhythm; the obscene squelching sounds of your soaked cunt as it's stuffed so good just barely getting drowned out by the rattling of the train.
The satisfaction practically drips off of the stranger's voice like honey, thick and sweet, as he hums into your skin, "Fuck, that's it, such a good girl for me..."
You can't help the whimpering moan that escapes through your covered mouth, that specific wording along with the man's deep voice sending liquid heat through you, even as mortification goes along with it. You clench around his fingers, rocking your hips down to chase the sweet friction, lost in the pleasure. The announcer's voice echoing through the carriage is a small mercy, masking your desperate cries as you throw your head back when he hits your sweet spot.
It's fucking mortifying, getting aroused by being assaulted on the train. And to the point where you're turned into a needy, whimpering mess of a slut, is achingly, deliciously humiliating.
You shake, eyes wide with pleasure, and you catch a glance at part of his face.
Your hips stutter to a halt even as his fingers keep going; your breath catches in your throat and you swear your heart simultaneously freezes and tries to beat out of your chest.
Because you recognize him.
You know who this man is.
And how could you not?
Dark scars along his throat and jaw, staples holding it to smooth, healthy skin, who else could it be?
You look up further and your heart lurches as your eyes lock on burning blue, the same ones you've always reluctantly found breathtakingly gorgeous, ever since you first saw them in a dingy bar last year, up close and personal before being kissed stupid, drunk and horny, and then again in his video detailing his life.
The villain Dabi grins down at you when he sees you looking at him; a devilish, dangerous thing, all heat and sharp edges, as his fingers curl, making your breath hitch.
"Missed me, Doll?"
You never did quite forget how he pressed against you, heat and tantalising danger wafting off him; smelling of smoke and sandalwood, tasting of cheap beer and something sweet.
Not getting further than making out and heavy petting, for whatever reason, this is the first time you truly had his hands on you.
And you can't deny the late hours of the nights, after seeing him on the news, bloody and wild eyed, surrounded by his pretty, blue flames that set your heart alight with awe at its beauty, with sweat coating your skin and a hand slipped between your thighs; can't deny that it's his name you cry and chase in your pleasure on those nights.
Yet, this couldn't be real.
It couldn't be.
You swallow dryly. Without thought, the word spills out, a whisper of a thing.
"D...Dabi?" your voice is small and disbelieving, yet so sweetly hopeful.
His fingers slow down, and he smiles, amused and smug.
Scalding lips brush the shell of your ear. "Mhmm.", is the rumbling confirmation and you sag back against him, subconciously rolling your hips.
"Dabi—" you choke out, confusion and arousal warring within as you try to grasp what the fuck is happening right now.
Your voice melts into a whimper as you feel his fingers move faster again and you clench around them as they rub and curl inside you, exploring every inch of your walls in a way that has your hips bucking down to meet him, desperate for more despite your questions.
Because right now, the man you've wanted for so long, your guilty pleasure, is knuckles deep inside of you, and fuck if you're going to deny yourself that, but you want answers dammit.
"Why—mmn—why are you—" you struggle to speak around the moans and pleasure, "—why are y-you here, doing thi—ahn—this?"
His replying chuckle is low and dark in your ear, his answer making your knees buckle.
"I've been watching you for a while now, Sweetheart. And I never did get a taste of this sweet cunt." he accentuates his words with a grind to your sweet spot that has you seeing stars.
And you're suddenly very grateful that you're cornered against the wall; because you know that your eyes are wide, blown and hazy, lips parted and face flushed, and you don't know if you could take the look in his eyes if he sees the slutty, debaunched expression on your face at his words.
Though, he doesn't even need to see it to know, not when he hears the wanton little sounds you let out as he fucks his fingers in and out of your tight heat.
His thumb brushing over your throbbing clit has you biting down on your bottom lip to keep yourself from crying out, the touch sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your body.
"You always look fuckin' hot but today," he breathes into your neck, his voice dark and rough, exhilarating in the best of ways, as he punctuates the last word with a grind against you, the thought of his hard cock so close yet so far is almost enough to make you lose your goddamn mind, before growling out, "Today, you look fuckin' edible."
Heat washes over you at the depraved praise as you let out a tinny whimper.
"Oh fuck," you breathe out, high-pitched and needy. The thought that he's been watching you all this time, wanting you all this time, added to the sensations ravaging your body to the point it's almost too much, and you're just on that precipice, heat coiling low in your tummy.
You desperately clutch at his scarred wrist as his pace quickens into a near brutal rhythm, fingers simultaneously fucking into your pussy and rubbing at your clit, while his other hand fondles and kneads your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between the rough pads of his fingers, and it's just all so much, so good.
The pleasure is overwhelming, he is overwhelming, in all of the best ways they could be. His smoky scent, his deep voice, his filthy words, the feel and heat of him against you, the fingers that play you with the ease and prescision of a pianist; his very pressence electric, his every touch incendiary.
"Such a good girl for me, baby, so fuckin' wet for me, so fuckin' pretty..." he groans, muttering into the crook of your neck where he's nuzzling his face into, as his hips jerk forward, pressing and grinding his clothed erection against your ass.
Feeling him so big, so hard against you, for you, you moan; high and needy, dizzy with lust, wishing you could feel it stretching your insides instead of his fingers, pulsing and hot. That thought has you shaking, your eyes rolling back, vision going white, as you go limp; the only things now keeping you up are your shaky, braced hands against the wall and his hold on you, and you feel like a bubble just about to burst.
"Aww, you gonna cum for me, Doll?" He whispers almost harshly against your ear, his tone playful and full of sadistic glee. When you nod frantically he laughs, dark and mocking, "Do it baby, lemme see you."
It's exactly what you need.
Your juices drip down your thighs as you clench around him like a vice, and his hand releases your breast to slide up and cup over your mouth to keep you from screaming.
Ecstasy saturates your very blood, and you feel your cunt convulsing, your toes curling, and you reach your peak with a barely muffled cry, your release gushing down your legs.
Any thought of shame at the utter debaunced indecency of what you did and allowed to happen, is forgotten as pure bliss clouds your senses, sagging back against Dabi's chest, spent.
His body is tense against you, as it takes all of his willpower to not fuck you right then and there in front of everyone, but he wants you to himself, so he endures; breathing heavily into your neck as he mutters, voice strained and husky, "Good girl."
If you could, you would come all over again just from that.
You moan softly as he pulls his fingers out, bringing it to the front of your face to see them glistening in your juices, sticky and stringy where he spreads them, before bringing them up and back. Your eyes helplessly follow them as he brings it to his mouth, lapping at them with a soft groan.
Your chest heaves at the sight as you stand there, dizzy and in disbelief, catching your breath.
He grins, a cheeky little thing, "I said I never got a taste."
You just stare at him, trying to wrap your mind around what the hell just happened; so out of it, you almost don't notice the train slowing down, announcing your arrival to yet another station......and you notice that you missed your stop.
Shit.
Though before you could panic, he speaks into your ear.
"This is our stop, Sweetheart."
Heart racing, you turn around to face him, after he steps back, allowing you space. Flushed and confused, you hastily fix your clothes to be somewhat presentable as you look up at him; at his dilated pupils and the unmistakable hunger in his eyes as he watches you intently.
And you realize what he means. The sweet, titillating promise in his words and what he plans to do with you: to you.
Once you do, you don't even have to think about it before you agree.
As the train comes to a halt and the crowd of people rush out of the carriage, you let Dabi lead you out to the platform, your veins thrumming with excitement.
So much for being a good friend, but you'll just have to apologize to her tomorrow.
You're finally going to have what you've been craving.
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