Alright so for Dabi, I'm thinking the reader doesn't know just who he is, he just shows up at the right time. He totally has a thing for crying.
"Do you know how long I've watched you? You're perfect."
13. Are you really surprised to find out I’m the bad guy?
Okay, so it took me a long time to like...actually figure out what I wanted to do with this...and then it basically took a life of its own and got out of hand and I had to wrangle it down lol.
Rating: Explicit
Fandom: My Hero Academia
Pairing: Dabi x Undescribed Female Reader
Warnings: Violence. Obsession. Mention of stalking. Murder. Kidnapping. Dacryphilia. Dark!fic. Unbeta'd
Prompts: "Are you really surprised to find out I’m the bad guy?" And "Do you know how long I've watched you? You're perfect."
Notes: I don't know how well this turned out. I feel like it was a bit rushed but I couldn't figure out how to extend it properly. I hope you like it regardless. (I read it over only a couple times, so fair warning I guess.) HEED THE WARNINGS.
Living in a world with quirks teaches you a lot: what areas to avoid, the signs of a hero and villain fighting and how to make yourself look between a threat and a target. The truth of the world was simple. The more powerful your quirk is, the safer you are.
You’ve lived in the city all your life.
You’ve had problems before but it’s fine. You have insurance, your home is in a building that isn’t in a common villain/hero area and your quirk isn’t powerful but it is useful. It’s gotten you out of a couple of misdemeanours when you were young and you’ve redirected the anger of some adults that the kids you’ve come across didn’t deserve it. You’ve learned how to do it so that no one notices that you’re using your quirk. People just think you’re just good at de-escalation.
Your quirk is useful, but it isn’t powerful. You can’t sway the truly determined…or the desperate.
Your back slams into the wall, head ricocheting from the impact. Your vision blanks for a second, the world swaying as the man in front of you spits as he talks. You can smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Give it to me!” he snarls, nails sharpening with his quirk in warning. He holds them in front of your face.
Your heart is beating in your ears and your stomach rolls. How hard did you hit your head? “Hold–hold on,” you say, trying to focus. If the world would stop swaying, you’d be able to reach into your bag and throw your wallet. Or the whole bag. Why did you pick one that went across your chest instead of hanging off your shoulder? Oh, right, so a wanna-be villain couldn’t swipe it as they ran by.
“Hurry up!”
“What’s the rush?” A voice calls out from the side. You both look at the newcomer. It’s a man but you can’t make out his features with the way he’s silhouetted by the street behind him.
“It’s none of your business,” your mugger calls out to them. “Get moving before you get hurt.”
The man laughs. “You think you’ll hurt me?” He moves closer, into the alley where she was dragged. “Anything dealing with her is my business.”
You frown slightly, confused. Do you know them? The voice isn’t familiar but your head hurts and you just want to go home.
The person trying to steal from you, who shoved you hard into a wall, turns to them, nails growing longer in response. “I’m telling you, leave. I don’t want to hurt you if I don’t have to.”
The man grins. “I do.”
You don’t know what happens next because your vision suddenly goes black and you feel yourself falling as you try to grasp at the wall to keep yourself standing. You feel heat, sudden and viciously hot, and hear someone screaming but it’s overrun by the way someone grabs you. Your vision returns as their arm hooks under your legs.
“I got you, princess.” You’re held close against their chest and you can feel them move, walking you back towards the street. Light glints off of the metal on their cheek and you catch sight of the disfiguration on half of his face.
“Hospital,” you say, blinking away the dots that scatter across your vision with the change in lighting. “Please. I think I need a hospital.”
“I know what you need,” he says. He grins as he says it, glancing down at you. His eyes are bright blue, standing out against the rest of his features. He doesn’t say anything else and you’re left to trust this stranger who’s holding you tight and moving determinedly. You wonder what happened to the thief, but put it out of your mind. You just got lucky a hero found you.
You’ve never been more wrong.
You stare at the man across from you as he leans against the door. Dabi, as he’s introduced himself, didn’t bring you to a hospital or your home. Instead, you’re healed and in his bedroom. You have no idea where exactly that is.
“Heh, are you really surprised to find out I’m the bad guy?”
“Let me go,” you say, voice laced with your quirk. You see the way it settles in his eyes and fades just as fast. Your breath catches. That’s not good. He’s not desperate, not with how unconcerned he looks, which means he’s determined. The question is for what?
“No,” he says. “Not when I finally have you.”
“Have me? For what?” He doesn’t answer. “You can’t just kidnap people! You’re going to let me walk out!” Your voice rings with your power but nothing happens. You feel tears start to build up in your eyes and you try hard to swallow it back. You’re not super emotional but you tend to cry when you’re frustrated or angry. Like it has to be released one way or another. You never expected this to happen. You’re not a hero or anything. Your quirk isn’t powerful. You’re not worth this.
He moves away from the door, coming towards you. You’re tempted to scramble back, out of his reach, but you refuse to show that you’re afraid. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
He reaches up and brushes one of the tears that fall off of your cheek. You watch as he puts the finger he used in his mouth, tasting it. Your throat tightens at the action. “I was right,” he says softly, sounding more like he’s talking to himself than to you. His eyes meet yours. “Do you know how long I’ve watched you? You’re perfect.”
You stare at him as the words register. “What?”
His hand grabs the back of your neck and before you can even think, his mouth is on yours. His kiss is hard and demanding, teeth nipping at your lips until you open up for him. His tongue moves against yours and he groans as though it’s something he wants to savour.
You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be letting him kiss you like this, like he hasn’t stolen you away and ignored your demands to be released. You’re not stupid though. If he’s as much of a villain as he says he is, you just need to wait him out. You’ll find your exit one way or another.
“Stop thinking,” he tells you, mouth brushing access yours again before he sucks a mark into your throat. “I’ll show you it’s worth it. You won’t want to run when I’m done.”
You laugh at the presumptuousness. As if anything would be enough to make you want to stay. You can’t deny you’re curious though. It’s always been your downfall.
Tears fall as he holds your hips down, mouth moving between your legs and building you closer to the edge that you’ve been thrown off of multiple times already. You’re not sure you’ve ever orgasmed this many times before, not in a row, not with another person. He seems to know exactly what you like. You barely have to direct him.
You can’t stop yourself from crying from the stimulation even as you begged for more. When he sees it, he pauses, moving to slot his hips between your legs as he kisses you again. You can taste yourself on him, but the thought barely registers when he moves his mouth. He kisses and licks at the tracks of tears.
“So fucking pretty when you cry,” he mutters against your skin.
“-m not,” you whine. “Dabi, please!”
“Please what? Hmm?”
You don’t answer, trying to wipe away your tears. You didn’t mean to cry but it felt like too much. Now he was giving you a break and you felt like you could breathe again.
“Come on, princess. You want more? Let me keep you.”
“No,” you breathe.
“Tell me,” he demands, hips rocking into yours. He’s hard against you. “Only gonna cry for me. Only I make you feel like this. Admit it.”
You whine, simultaneously wanting more and less. His hand wraps around your throat, heating slightly. His mouth nips at your jaw before moving against your ear. “Tell me you want me.”
Your head falls back. He’s so close but he’s already made you cum multiple times. You can outlast this.
His hand burns at your lack of response but it fades just as fast. “You’re mine.”
“No,” you say, half exhausted but kissing him again.
“Tell me,” he demands.
You don’t answer.
“Heh,” he says before angling himself and pressing in. He groans into your neck at the sensation. “You will.”
Obsession Prompts + Another Set of Yandere Prompts
That was what Villain was doing. Rotting in a cell, far away from life - from anyone. It made them think, regret and sorrow ate them alive, knowing they caused people their lives.
But they didn't care much for that, no, they cared for one thing and one thing only: Hero.
The beloved Hero, the one they brought down on their knees - pulled them down with them. That's why they were here in this cell, to pay for what they did.
Their love for them had festered into something more: obsession.
So they cradled the skull of their love, muttering - mumbling:
Can I get "let me in" from the obsession prompts with one of the murder husbands? 😍
Ooo that's a good one. Prompt: "Let me in! Trust me, sweetheart, it'll be easier if you do. Don't run from me. You won't like what happens when I catch you."
Hmmm which murder husband? For you maybe your fave:
Rating: M
Warnings: violence, threats, obsession
Notes: I've never written for him before so...enjoy? Sorry if it's ooc lol
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.
She wasn’t supposed to get caught, not here and not by him. Honestly, she expected to be killed. Instead, he had dug into her head, taking her to his compartments and telling her to wait for his return. She managed to slip out a duct and escape. Somehow he knew.
She wasn’t able to get to the hanger, to send out a distress signal. She had to hide in the closest room as his voice rang in her head, demanding her submission and return. She barred the door as best she could, trying to be silent. But the man does not relent.
The door shudders under the impact and she hears the buzz of his saber on the other side. She doesn’t know why he has yet to use it.
“Let me in,” he orders.
She cowers against it, hands fumbling and trying to keep the lock closed. Every time it moves, she forces it shut again. Her arms shake with the effort.
“Let me in!” The door rattles again. His voice echoes in her mind. “Trust me, sweetheart, it'll be easier if you do. Don't run from me. You won't like what happens when I catch you.”
She shakes her head, refusing to answer him. The silence feels as though it stretches across a lifetime, anticipation sparking through it. It breaks when the beam of the lightsaber is shoved through the side of the door in front of her. She shrieks, ducking and scrambling away from it.
Everything blocking it goes flying sideways, crashing against the wall. The lock clicks and the door slides open. He stands there, silhouetted by the guide lights in the hall. She tries to make herself smaller, to blend into the dark but he finds her instantly.
“Come,” he offers his hand towards her. When she doesn’t move, he snarls. “I will not offer it again! Come!”
She stumbles to her feet, fear driving her forward to take his hand. His grip tightens on hers as he pulls her into him, saber flashing off. She feels him press his face to her hair and must imagine that he breathes her in.
“Don’t run from me again,” he murmurs to her. “You do not need to fear me. Not you.”
