Dabi X You - Blog Posts

The one in which you and Touya were childhood best friends turned sweethearts, and your reaction to Dabi.

warnings - heavy angst, grief, and manga spoilers

Touya Todoroki had been your everything. He was your first friend, your first crush, and your first kiss.  You were his number one supporter, always cheering him on, even after his family gave up on him becoming a pro hero. You were there when Shouto was born, and you were there to comfort Touya after he tried to kill him. You would apply burn cream and ice after every burn and bring bento boxes full of food to Sekoto Peak after he had been training for hours. You were there for every up and down, waiting to help him get back onto his feet and keep training harder and harder.

And at the end of it all, you were the last one to see him alive.

You refused his invitation to the top of the mountain that day- “Finals are coming up Touya and I need to study. You should be studying too”. He had tried to get you to come anyway, but you put your foot down. You two got into a heated argument over it, ending with you both stomping away in different directions.

You had seen the raging wildfire from your window and were instantly overcome with grief. You tried to go to the forest, calling out for your best friend, but you were stopped by Endeavor- his father- of all people. Once you informed him that his oldest son was inside the burning inferno, you were left alone.

A part of your soul died with Touya Todoroki that day, but life goes on. You adopted the Todoroki’s habit of not acknowledging trauma and carried on with your life like nothing had happened- at least on the surface.

It was difficult, you had your bad days, but you also had your good ones. On the especially hard days, you tried to remember the happy memories you had of him and reminded yourself that he wouldn’t want you to waste the day by being sad. ‘Touya would want me to move on and be happy’, you would remind yourself.

After ten years, you were better. You had managed to overcome your grief and move on with your life, but all your hard work had come crumbling down when you saw Dabi’s broadcast.

“My name is Touya Todoroki, the oldest son of the number one pro hero.”

Your entire world had halted on its axis as soon as the words left his mouth. You just stared at the broadcast, your frantic heartbeats the only sound you could hear aside from the confession that kept replaying like a mantra inside your head.

For the next couple of months, you didn’t outwardly acknowledge that your best friend- your first love- was a villain. That the friendly and hard-working adolescent that you knew was a serial killer.

You were amongst the evacuees when you saw the broadcast of the fight from a TV inside an abandoned store window. You dropped your backpack that contained everything that you could quickly grab from your apartment to the payment in shock as your brain tried to process what you were witnessing.

Touya- Dabi- and Endeavor battling it out in the middle of the city, and then Touya being engulfed in an inferno.

“Mom!” A familiar female voice called out from somewhere behind you. You turned in time to watch Rei Todoroki race towards the growing fireball, with Fuyumi and Natsuo following close on her heels. You did not hesitate to follow suit.

“Touya!” You heard the Todoroki’s yelling as they reached the impending explosion. You watched in awe as they activated their Frost Quirks, trying to cool their oldest son and brother down.

“Touya!” You yelled as you reached the wall of heat. Your clothes started to singe as you got closer.

“Y/N!” Fuyumi called out to you when she saw you. “What are you doing?! Get away!”

“No! Not before we stop Touya!”

“Y/N are you insane?” Natsuo swore.

“Y/N, get away!” Rei said to you as you continued to approach. “Your body cannot handle the heat!”

“And yours can?” You retorted. “Touya!”

“Touya! Big bro snap out of it!”

“Touya, stop!”

“Touya!” You screamed out before strong arms pulled you through the swelting wall of flames. You yelped as the flames licked at your skin. You managed to see the familiar face of Dabi through the smoke. You called out to him, “Touya! Stop, you are hurting me.”

“It’s Dabi now, sweetheart.” He said in a low voice as he wrapped his arms around you. You could practically feel the hatred dripping from his tongue. “What? Y/N, did you think I would stop my rampage about I saw you again, like some lovesick puppy?” He chuckled as he brought himself impossibly closer to you. You didn’t know if the scent of burning flesh was coming from you or him. “The Touya that you knew died ten years ago on Sekoto Peak. Again, it’s Dabi now, and Dabi doesn’t know you.” He whispered into your ear before lighting his entire body on fire.

remember to like, comment, and reblog!

Spades

Dabi x reader Part Two of Russian Roulette 6.6k words Noncon, Stalking, Kidnapping, praise kink, fear kink, possessive Dabi

Dabi can't seem to forget about you, and he doesn't understand why. The very thought of you angers and confuses him, though soon his irritation with you morphs into something more dangerous. You have no idea how much further your life is about to become entangled with his own.

Dabi doesn’t know why he comes back after the last time, or why he continues to watch you. In his mind, he already got what he wanted. Your fear, your submission, was laid out so deliciously in front of him for the taking. 

He should have felt satisfied. He did at first, he supposes. And yet, he finds himself coming back, continuing to watch you. The thoughts of you still dominate his thoughts, consuming him, and distracting him from his goals. 

Soon enough he climbs in through your window yet again, while you're at work. You didn’t go to the police or the heroes after he broke in last time, probably out of fear he muses, but you were at least smart enough to place new locks throughout the place. That of course didn’t work, the lock on the window melting easily under the heat of Dabi’s hand. Whether or not you notice this, he doesn’t care. What would you even do to stop him?

He snoops around through your home as much as he pleases, again not caring in the slightest if you notice anything out of place. He’s curious as to what he can find out about you, though to what end he doesn’t quite understand. 

Eventually, he finds himself sitting on the edge of your bed, the wooden frame creaking under him, the only sound resonating in the room. He looks around at the four walls of your bedroom, taking mental notes of your decorating choices, and your sparse furniture.

He still doesn’t know what to make of you, to his growing frustration.

Leaning back against the soft covers and pillows, he sighs, almost agitatedly. He brings a hand up to the pillow near his head, thumbing the soft, silky flange edge of it. Bringing the pillow to his face, he inhales deeply, taking in your scent. The smell brings back the memory of how soft your skin felt against his, the delightful and fearful noises you made underneath him. His cock twitches in his pants at the mental image, getting hard as he reminisces.  

He debates doing something about the growing tightness in his pants before simply saying, ”Fuck it.” As he deftly undoes his pants and palms his erection. The thought of how you would react to him touching himself in your bed, to the depravity of the act he’s committing while you’re not home, is what really gets him going. 

The thought of you possibly walking in, seeing the villain in your room, and the fear that would be in your eyes, has him groaning as a thick bead of precum runs down the head of his cock. He thumbs the bead, running his hand over the slit as he hisses in pleasure, his mind racing. 

He continues to thrust up into his hand fervently at the thought of you, how warm you felt around him, how addicting your fear and submission were. He thinks about taking you again, what he’d do next time. The ideas run through his head as he gets closer and closer to the edge. 

Dabi thinks of your soft body and your pupils blown wide with a mix of fear and pleasure, as he closes his eyes and pretends it's you he’s thrusting up into right now, imagining how you would clench around his cock. The sounds of your moans replay over and over in his mind. He imagines you begging for him, begging for him to fuck you, for him to not fuck you. 

Within minutes, he’s spilling all over his hand as he reaches his climax. 

He tucks himself messily back inside his pants, still not feeling satisfied. If anything, he’s feeling even more frustrated, even more angry. He can’t afford to have distractions like this, and he doesn’t like having some insignificant person consume his mind like this. He’s already gotten what he wanted from you, so why is he here? 

Shigaraki and the rest of the League have started to take notice of the fact that his mind has been elsewhere as of late, and they’ve noticed his increasing absences as well, though they couldn’t have any ideas as to why. If only they knew.

He realizes he’s still gripping your pillow with one hand as he grits his teeth in frustration. He heats his hand, scorching and burning the fabric edge of the pillow, the smell of burnt cotton wafting through the air. Let you see this, see the evidence of his presence in your home. He hopes you notice, hoping it ignites more fear in you. It’s what you deserve for the increasingly suffocating hold you have over his mind.

Standing up lazily, he redoes his belt. He should be getting back soon, additionally, you’ll be home soon. As much as he would love to take his frustrations out on you right now, he needs to come up with some sort of plan. Something to quell his burning thoughts. Ideas swim around in his head as thinks of what to do next. 

Someone has been in your home. You know Dabi has been watching you still, and the melted lock and scorched pillow make it apparent that he’s been inside as well. Your stomach turns and you shudder as you examine the burnt fabric. He was on your bed if the ruffled and messy duvet cover was any indication. 

Fear rolls over you, making your vision blur and your body tremble as you stand there at the edge of your bed, holding the pillow. You don’t know why you didn’t go to the authorities after he broke in that first time, maybe from fear of retribution or maybe a naively placed hope he would leave you be. You now realize that optimism was false, as your breathing starts to quicken. 

You don’t understand what he wants with you, why does he continue to haunt every corner of your life? He’s in every shadow caught out of the corner of your eye, in every slightly out-of-place object around your home, every unknown number that calls. All innocuous things before, now fill you with anxiety and doubt. 

What does he plan to do to you, it’s obvious he hasn’t forgotten about you, nor is he seemingly keen on leaving you alone. 

You don’t think he’s going to kill you, considering how he didn’t when he had the chance. But then again, maybe he’s toying with you, drawing out as much fear as he can before finishing you off. You don’t know what to expect and it makes your head spin. 

Supposing you can’t do anything to stop him, you drop the pillow back to the bed, sighing tiredly. You could go to the police, you think to yourself. Maybe that’s what you should do, what any sane person would do in this situation. Maybe the heroes could help. You stop that train of thought quickly though, no he would know if you did something like that, and it would surely only serve to further piss him off.

You have no other option than to continue living your life as if you don’t have a villain shadowing your every move. It's a terrifying and oppressive weight on your shoulders. 

Still, yet, you can’t help how your pulse quickens and your thighs press together when you remember that night he woke you. The memory of how he fucked you well and good into your sofa can’t seem to leave your mind. On more than one occasion since then, you’ve found yourself waking up in a sweat, wetness forming between your legs from the dreams replaying the event. When you wake like this you can’t help but wonder if he’s watching you at that moment, if he’s somewhere in your home. You’re often tempted to reach down between your legs and relieve the tension but the idea of his piercing eyes on you stops you from doing so.

It frustrates you to no end, how he invades your mind, his ominous presence constantly weighing on you, even when he couldn’t possibly be watching you. 

In the weeks following, you’ve done your own research into Dabi, reading every news article and watching every news story about the infamous villain. You know he’s possibly tied to a string of murders throughout the area, crime scenes reduced to ash, bodies so badly burnt that dental records are needed to identify the victims. You find yourself reduced to nausea at these stories. 

Your own immunity to fire doesn’t give you any feelings of ease or safety, if anything it makes you feel as if you have a prominent target on your back now. After all, that’s why he first sought you out right? Because you didn’t burn to death when you first encountered him. You shudder remembering the fury he showed as his face twisted into a snarl at that moment when he couldn’t reduce you to cinders like he so obviously wanted to. His anger felt all-consuming, you’ve never seen anything like it before then. You don’t think simply standing up to him at that moment was the crux of his anger, no, while it did certainly anger him, he was pissed because of your quirk. Your very existence was an act of defiance to him. At least that was your latest hypothesis for why he continues to stalk you. 

You don’t even bother to change the smelted lock on the window, if he wants in he’ll just break it again, and then you’ll have evidence of another intrusion, and you don’t think your psyche can handle it. 

Instead, you continue to go about your life as if you’re ignorant to his presence. You keep your head low and act as if nothing is wrong, not doing anything to draw more attention to yourself, and hopefully, nothing to worsen the situation. You continue to catch small signs of his presence, you know he hasn’t left you alone or forgotten about you. 

He hasn’t gone out of his way to approach you again, though, and after a few weeks, you start to wonder if you’re being paranoid. Maybe he has finally left you alone and everything that you think is evidence of his presence is your own fear and anxiety messing with your head. 

No, you remind yourself, he was definitely in your home, that melted lock and burnt pillow were more than enough evidence of that. 

You find yourself going back and forth on this, whether or not he’s really still watching you or whether you're going crazy. Part of you hopes it’s just your anxiety and fear, but another part of you doesn’t like the idea of all this just being in your head. Until one day, you have the undeniable proof he’s still present. 

You’re at work when he makes contact again. You work at some small grocery store in a less favorable part of town. The story is small and kind of shabby, and the produce is overpriced for how subpar quality it is. Not to mention, you think you’ve seen mice in the back before, not that the manager seems to care. You don’t particularly like this job but it pays the bills at the very least.

A new order comes in that day, and you soon find yourself behind the store, hauling crates from the truck with one of the few other employees scheduled that day. He’s a new hire, only having started here a few weeks ago. He’s been nice enough, if not...too nice at times. His overt friendly attitude has veered toward flirtatiousness recently, and you don’t know how to feel about it. Maybe if you didn’t have so much on your mind as of late, you would enjoy the positive attention. 

He’s hardworking at least, and he doesn’t cross the line into making you feel uncomfortable. You do think that regardless, he’d make a good friend. 

You attempt to pick up a particularly heavy crate of produce, straining to lift it. 

“Hey, lemme get that, I got it.” Your coworker says, taking the load from you. His hands linger on yours as he grabs it. “Don’t strain yourself.” He says with a wink.

You can’t help but huff a laugh as you thank him. He carries the crate into the back portion of the store, leaving you alone in the alleyway. You go to grab the next box that needs to be taken inside, hoping this one will be easier to carry. Before you can though, your phone vibrates in your pocket. 

Pulling it out to see what it is, your face pales and you almost drop your phone entirely when you see the message across your screen.

[Unknown number]

I don’t like the way he looks at you. Don’t let him touch you again.

There’s no doubt in your mind at all who this is from. Is he watching you right now? Your eyes dart around the area looking for any heavily scarred arsonists who could be looking at you. These alleys seem empty, with not a soul in sight. He must be watching you though, what else could he be referring to? Your heart thumps in your chest so hard you can feel it in your ears. 

Before you can spiral into a panic, your coworker comes back out, ready to grab some more loads. He seems to notice your frightened expression soon enough. 

“Hey is everything alright? You look like you just saw a ghost.” His eyes seemed filled with genuine concern.

You stammer, looking for the right words, you know you can't explain your situation, so instead you’ll have to come up with some excuse. He places a firm hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture, as he asks again if you’re okay.

Aware of the fact that Dabi must be watching right now, his message still replaying in your mind, you remove his hand with your own and attempt to play it off. 

“Oh yeah I’m fine, a rat ran out over my feet as I lifted a box, gave me a real scare.” You say with a humorless chuckle. You don’t know how convincing it may seem but it's all you can come up with right now. 

Luckily, he seems to buy it. “Oh ew, yeah they seem to be frequent flyers whenever we get new orders, huh? The owner doesn’t care about the quality of the places he’s ordering from.” 

He picks up the box in front of you and speaks again, “I can get these last few boxes if you wanna go inside, it’s a slow day and you could use the break.” 

Still shaken up, you agree. As you head inside, your phone buzzes yet again. You check it again with a trembling hand, already knowing who it probably is. 

[Unknown number]

I’ll kill him if he puts his hand on you like that again. I don’t share what’s mine, doll.

If there was any doubt before as to who was texting you, it’s gone now. This is Dabi, without question. The idea that he knows where you work, that he somehow got your number, makes you shiver in fear. He really hadn’t left you alone at all. Your breath quickens as it feels like you can’t get enough oxygen, your throat constricting. 

Your heart beats heavily in your chest, what does he want with you? It was bad enough before, but now he seems to have some notion that he has a claim on you. That no one else could touch you, or make a move on you. This instills both a sense of fear and anger in you. 

In a sudden moment of audacious boldness, you pull up the keyboard on your phone and type back a short message. 

I’m not yours. You don’t own me.

You immediately regret it the moment after you hit ‘send’. You can’t take it back now, and you might only piss him off with your words. You shouldn’t even be engaging with him, he’s one of the most wanted terrorists in Japan, for god's sake. 

Within seconds, your phone vibrates again as he responds to you.

Oh really? We’ll see about that

Dread twists in your gut and your hairs stand on end as you read his reply. What does he mean by that? What is he planning? He’s obviously going to do something if his text is any indication. You regret replying to him at all, you fear you’ve only made things worse by doing so. If there’s one thing you’ve realized about Dabi, it’s that he doesn’t like resistance or anything challenging him.

You choose not to reply again, instead putting away your phone, and distracting your racing mind with work. You feel helpless to do anything to change your current predicament, all you can do is try not to focus on it, otherwise, you might start panicking. You silently pray that everything will turn out okay.

Dabi has been watching you still yet, even at times watching you at work when he could. His obsessive thoughts about you haven’t gone anywhere, you still consume his mind entirely. He doesn’t know why and he doesn’t quite know what he wants to do with you yet. You still frustrate him ceaselessly. He started to think maybe he hated you, for how you’re ever present in his thoughts, but then he saw how your irritating coworker looked at you, how he seemed to take every opportunity he could to touch you. He felt an entirely new form of anger rising in him. 

Whether he continues to toy with you, whether he fucks you again, or whether he decides to kill you, you're his and his alone. He doesn’t know when he started to mentally think of you as ‘his’ but he has and he’ll be damned if someone else will touch what’s rightfully his. The urge to kill the coworker is overwhelmingly strong at the present moment. 

He takes out his current burner phone and sends you a cryptic message as he watches you from the shadows of the twisting alleyways. You’ll probably be wondering how he got your number, once you realize who sent the message. It was all too easy to sneak go through your phone while you slept just a few feet away, as he committed all your most personal information to memory. Your peacefully sleeping face looked so cute and innocent to his presence. 

Judging by the spooked look on your face, you immediately know it was him who sent the text. You look around the alley, searching for any sign of your stalker. You won’t spot him of course, Dabi has had years to learn how to blend into the shadows, the hidden nooks and crannies of winding alleys and dilapidated buildings. 

That annoying pest of a man comes out again, even puts his hand on your shoulder, and Dabi sees red. It takes everything in him to not burn him alive right then. He knows that he needs to act patiently. It won’t do him well to rush things, and he thinks killing someone in front of you might give you the final push to run straight to the authorities, and that would only complicate things further with you. He can kill that annoying man later he supposes. 

He is pleased with how quickly you remove his hand from your shoulder, though. Good, he likes when you do what you’re told. You’re a lot more endearing when you listen without contesting him. 

He sends you another text after he sees you walking inside, wishing he could watch your face as you read it. He still finds your fear absolutely delightful. He’s spent many nights at this point rutting into his hand as he closes his eyes and imagines your frightful expressions. He’s surprised though when his phone chimes as you reply to him, not expecting you to reply at all. 

I’m not yours. You don’t own me.

A scowl forms on his face as a displeased expression forms. He furrows his eyebrows as he considers your words. Of course you’re his, even if you don’t want to be. You were his from the moment you failed to die by his quirk, even if he didn’t think of you as his at the time. Your text irritates him yet again, you have the nerve to preoccupy his thoughts constantly and then to try and deny him. Oh no, that simply won’t do. He’ll show you who you belong to, and he’ll make it really clear so there won’t be any more mistakes or misunderstandings about the matter.  

His hands shake in aggravation as he sends you another response, before pocketing his phone. He lits a cigarette as he walks away, hoping to calm his irate mood. Plans are already starting to come together in his head. 

The rest of your day passes in a haze, as you try to distract yourself from the overwhelming anxiety and fear that’s plaguing your mind. Work is monotonous enough to serve to keep your thoughts preoccupied. You don’t want to focus on any of the things going on in your life right now. You feel as if you’ll break down if you let your fear take hold at this moment.

After work, once you get home, you find something to do around the house, completing every and any chore you can think of, anything to keep you busy. This keeps you distracted well into the evening. 

 Sleep overcomes you easily that night, you’re exhausted and desperate to turn your brain off. 

Your sleep is dreamless and uneventful until you slowly start to come to the sensation of something hot and wet moving between your legs. Consciousness comes to you slowly as you lift your heavy eyelids, and you start to realize you’re not dreaming as you feel hair brushing up against your inner thighs. Your blurry eyes try to focus in the darkened room as you make out the figure in front of you. The first thing you see is a head full of soft black hair as you feel another long wet drag against your cunt. 

You let out a sharp gasp as your hips jolt. Strong hands go to grip you, holding you in place, as Dabi lifts his head to meet your gaze, his eyes piercing straight through you from where he sits between your legs. 

“So you’re awake now? Took you long enough, baby.” He speaks in that same rough voice you remember and he then flattens his tongue against you, taking another long, firm drag. You bite back a noise as you begin to squirm. His hands grip you tighter, keeping you firmly on his face. You can see now that he took your shorts off while you slept, your underwear hooked around one ankle now. He appears to have also taken his own jacket off. 

“W-why?” You’re not sure what question you’re even asking, but in your still hazy state, it's all you seem to be able to manage. 

He lifts his head again, his eyes filled with lust at the moment, and something devious as well. 

“You said weren’t mine, that you don’t belong to me. I’m here to prove you wrong.” He nips at the delicate skin of your inner thigh as he speaks, pulling another noise past your lips. You try to push away from him, but he quickly pins your hips down as he gives you a dangerous look. 

“I won’t hesitate to chain you to this bed if you don’t behave. Do you want that?” He asks darkly, and you fervently shake your head. “Good, I thought so.” 

He moves his mouth back down, working his tongue over your clit as you slowly lose your mind. You can’t help the noises you make as your legs start to tremble in his grasp. He seems to know exactly how to move his tongue against you, the wet squelching of his mouth against you as he eats you out, and your quiet moans are the only noises in the room. 

The pleasure starts to grow, and as you feel the heat building up in your gut, you can’t but grind your hips against him. Your fingers twitch as you look for something to grasp onto and you can’t seem to stop yourself before gripping his hair. Luckily he doesn’t seem to mind, groaning low against your clit as you pull on his hair. His dark hair is surprisingly soft in your hands and every time you yank it, he lets out another low noise. 

Sparks of white start to flash behind your eyelids, as you near your climax. You’re fully grinding against him now, riding his face in earnest as your noises become more desperate. You’re so close and he seems to know it. 

He continues his ministrations for a moment longer, bringing you to the very edge, but before you can come, he pulls away abruptly. 

You feel as if you could cry, your frustrations are obvious, and your cunt aches from the sudden lack of attention. 

“Please, please, I was so close!” You find yourself begging despite your own sense of pride. Your voice is shaky as you whine. You don’t want this, not really, but his mouth felt so good against you. You feel conflicted and torn.

Dabi presses his lips to your inner leg again. “Mhm, as much as I love the sound of you begging like that, I don’t think I’m gonna let you come yet.” He pulls back, smirking at how your lip trembles and the desperation in your eyes.

“That was just to warm you up some, I want you to do something for me first, baby.” 

You look up at him apprehensively as you sniffle. ”...What?” You’re nervous as to what he wants or what he plans to do. If he simply wanted to fuck you, he would. After the thing with the gun last time, you can only imagine what else he would do. 

He grips your waist, pulling you up into a sitting position wordlessly as he sits back on his haunches. Even sitting up, you still have to look up to meet his eyes, his presence still intimidating and frightening as ever. He seems to have a constant dark aura about him.

He looks at you for a moment, leaning back more as he speaks.

“Take off my belt.” It’s a simple yet commanding sentence, his voice husky and low, his tone very obviously leaving no room for debate. It’s not a request, it’s an order.

Not wanting to see what he’ll do if you refuse, you reach for his belt with shaking hands, undoing it quickly as he watches you from above with that intense gaze of his. 

Soon enough, you’re sliding the belt off of him, letting it drop to the bed. Before you can look to him to see what wants you to do now, he speaks.

“Undo my pants next.” You meet his eyes, which are now heavily lidded with desire. You think you know where this is going if your intuition is correct. As you unbutton his pants and pull the zipper down, you can see that he’s straining against his boxers, a spot already forming from precum. 

One of his strong hands goes to grip your hair, as the other reaches to pull his cock free. He’s large and girthy, and the same piercings you remember from last time gleam in the low lighting. 

He pulls you down close to his crotch, forcing you to arch your back for him. A thumb comes to pull at your bottom lip, going to swipe across the tip of your tongue. 

"You ready to open that pretty mouth for me, baby?" He speaks in a low almost murmur as he hooks a finger in your mouth. “I said before that you were a natural cockwhore, I wanna test that out now.” 

His hand pulls you closer to him, the hand on your jaw letting go to hold his cock, the hand in your hair staying firmly put. He brings the tip of it up to your lips. You want to refuse on principle but he’s obviously not going to take no for an answer. He smears precum across your lips, before firmly tapping your cheek.

 “And don’t even think about biting, I’ll snap your pretty little neck so fast.” He looks at you with an intensity that has your breath nearly catching in your throat, and his eyes bore down into yours. You frown slightly, you weren’t that stupid to piss off the murderer situated above you. 

“I wasn’t going to,” You speak in a quiet but firm voice, your own boldness surprising you as you continue, “I was actually thinking what kind of freak gets his dick pierced.” 

Dabi barks out a sudden and rough laugh at your words. “Yeah I’m a sick freak, but you already knew that about me, doll.” The hand in your hair tightens considerably as he presses the head of his cock to your lips again, his voice dropping into something dangerous. “Now suck.” 

You decide against making any other smart remarks, instead opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out experimentally, giving the tip a small lick. 

“Just like that, baby.” He says in a throaty voice as he pushes the head of his cock past your lips, forcing you to open wider. His precum is salty on your tongue, and you wrap your lips around him tight. Your hands go to the tops of his thighs to steady yourself, as you take another inch of his length into your mouth. Both his hands tangle into your hair as he uses his hold on you to thrust into you slowly, letting you get accustomed to his size. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good.” He groans above you, and his praise has your stomach fluttering. You start to work your tongue on the underside of his shaft, the metal piercings giving it such an unusual feeling, and you begin to suck in earnest as he throws his head back. “Oh, you’re so fucking good, so good for me.” 

He starts to thrust into your mouth more roughly, the tip of his cock poking the back of your throat as you try not to gag. 

“Shhh, shhh, just breath, relax your throat.” One of his hands goes to massage the side of your jaw as he coaxes you into taking more, forcing his full length down your throat. You can’t breathe, but before you can truly panic he pulls back momentarily, giving you a second to inhale through your nose.

Then, he thrusts back in pulling your face flush with his groin, your nose burying in his curly pubes, which you now notice are white, unlike the dark hair on his head. He holds you there for a few moments before the lack of oxygen starts to make your vision blur. 

He continues to fuck your throat like this, forcing you to relax and take it as he moans lowly. You can tell he’s starting to get close as he picks up the pace, fucking your face faster and letting out a litany of swears jumbled with more praise. 

The hands on your face start to heat up against your skin and you can see as small sparks of blue flames start to dance up his wrists, the smell of smoke increasing. The small flames start to encompass your head as he holds you tightly, but they do nothing but roll across your skin harmlessly. 

You hollow your cheeks as best you can, swallowing around his cock as he exclaims, “Fuck, fuck I’m coming!” As he pushes his cock into your throat as far as it’ll go, forcing you to swallow every bit. He holds you in place for several moments as you take every salty pump, as your eyes start to water. 

After he’s spent, he pulls out with a pop, drool is now running down your chin, your throat sore and battered. 

He tilts your chin up, meeting your tear-filled eyes. His expression is still filled with desire, his eyes looking hazy from his orgasm. “Oh, you did so good baby, look at you, swallowed every single drop.” His thumb runs across your bottom lip and you see his cock twitch in interest again. Of course he wouldn’t be done with you yet. 

Dabi pulls you up from where had you bent down, pulling you closer to him. You begin to struggle against him yet again, and he’s quick to pull your hair, hard. 

“I told ya I would chain you to this bed if you didn’t behave, do I need to pull out the cuffs?” You’re not surprised he brought handcuffs, not in the least bit, but you don’t want him using them on you, so you quickly quit struggling at the threat. 

Dabi would like very much actually to use the cuffs, but he likes when you’re being obedient for him. He’ll have plenty of time to use them later anyways. Just the mental image of you tied up under him is enough to start getting him hard again. 

“Let's take this shirt off, baby.” He says in that gravelly voice as he pulls the fabric up over your head, leaving you exposed. Your hands immediately go to cover your chest but he quickly grips your wrists, using his hold on you to press you down into the mattress. He leans into your prone body, his teeth nipping at the skin right below your ear. 

“Besides, you didn’t get to come earlier, it’s your turn now.” One of his hands goes to grip your hips, the other going to his cock as he presses it against your clit, rubbing it up and down your slick folds, the metallic piercings along the shaft rubbing against you pleasurably. 

He continues this motion until you start letting out small moans, even as you try to hide your noises. After a minute of this, he guides the engorged head of his cock to your hole, nearly pressing in. He lavishes your neck with bites, sucking bruises into the skin, as he slowly presses forward into you. You clench around him and he groans.

“Relax, baby, relax. ‘S not gonna hurt, I’ll make you feel good.” He thrusts forward another inch, and as he slowly begins to fuck the small passage your body has granted him, you whimper out. 

He slowly begins to fuck you open, with each forward movement of his hips he pushes in another inch, until he has almost his entire cock moving in and out at a languid pace. Already having come earlier, he seems content to take his time with you, humping into you lazily. He keeps his body pressed close to yours and the hand that isn’t gripping your hip comes to wrap around your head, keeping you tightly pressed to him. 

You let out gasping moans as those piercings rub against your innermost wall. “Dabi..”

“Fuck, keep saying my name just like that.” His cock thumps against your womb now as he moves his hips more deeply. “You’re mine, doll, you’re all mine. You belong to me.” He says it like a chant, a prayer. Words continue to fall from his lips like flames as he grinds his hips into you.

“N-no, no.” You don’t like this claim of ownership over you, you don’t want him to see you as someone to possess, but you struggle to get the words out between your breathless moans and whimpers. He chuckles quietly at your protests, as he presses his mouth to your jawline, panting into your ear as he speaks again.

“No? You really don’t understand, huh?” His hips are slapping against yours now, the bed creaking under you two with every movement. You’re pressed chest to chest as he looks into your eyes, his gaze filled with something terrifying and wild. Whatever obsession he had with initially, it’s warped into something dangerous. “You were made to be mine, feel how perfectly my cock fits inside you?” He punctuations his sentence with a rough thrust, causing you to let out a high-pitched keening noise. “Even your quirk is another sign you were made for me. You belong to me.” 

The strong arms around you heat up as he fucks you into the mattress, the headboard knocking against the wall. He pushes in closer to you, pulling you into a deep, messy kiss. His teeth clank against yours and he bites your lips, nearly hard enough to draw blood. It’s a rough and possessive kiss, and he doesn’t let up until your head starts to spin, seeming to want to steal the very air from your lungs. He’ll take everything you have and more, because he truly believes you made give him everything, even your own self.

 He makes a circular motion with his hips, the tip of his cock rolling over your cervix. “Only I can fuck you like this, only I can make you feel this good. You know you like this.” 

A particular thrust has you crying out as you shake under him, and he makes it his mission to hit that exact same spot with every movement. “You feel so good when you clench on my cock like that. Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer, baby.” 

Electricity races up your spine with every roll of his hips, and you can’t help but cling to him. He reaches down between the two of you and begins to rub at the spot that’ll push you over the edge. “Come on my cock, baby, come for me.” He all but growls in your ear. Within moments you found yourself orgasming hard, as he continues to fuck you through it. He curses as you clench around him and with several battering thrusts, he pushes in as deep as he can, pumping you full of his cum. “Fucking take it, take my cum. That’s it, baby.” His cock twitches inside you as he releases, collapsing on top of you. 

He continues to lie on top of you for a few moments, his arms holding you tight as his softening cock slips out. After a minute he pulls himself up, looking down at your sweaty and exhausted body, your tired expression. “Wait here.” He says simply, getting up and redoing his pants. He exits your bedroom, feet padding on down the hall as he disappears. 

He returns a few minutes later, with a warm rag, and a glass of water. He cleans you up wordlessly before making you sit up despite how sore your body is, and hands you the glass, along with some pills.

You eye the capsules suspiciously, as you turn to him and frown. “What’s this?”  

He rolls his eyes at your apprehensiveness. ”It’s not poison, it’s so ya don’t get pregnant. I’ve snooped enough to know you’re not on any birth control.” 

Still frowning, you hesitate. He didn’t seem to care last time whether or not he got you knocked up. He seems to sense your wariness and grows impatient. 

 “Just take the damn pills already, if I wanted to kill you I could do a lot better than some fake medicine.” You suppose that’s true. Not wanting to anger him, you swallow the pills, downing the water afterward. He watches you closely as you do so, making sure you actually swallow them. 

“Good, now get some rest.” You feel yourself getting a lot sleepier than you initially felt, your eyes growing heavy. Within minutes you’re out. 

Dabi redresses you nimbly, making sure you’re truly knocked out before lifting you up into his arms. What a sweet thing, you were still so naive and trusting. He starts to carry you towards the door. You were his and you weren’t ever getting away from him. 

A/N: Sooo part three mayhaps? Thanks for reading!

💜7 mins in heaven with Dabi: Pt. 5💙

Continuation of Part 4

Walking back to the table, you notice Hitoshi eyeing you suspiciously. Part of you felt guilty towards Hitoshi considering what the two of you did this morning, while the other part of you felt smug that you finally one-uped the most notorious player on campus.

Casually, you sit next to Hitoshi which was Touya's previous spot. Reaching across the table, you grab your bag and open it again to finish eating your donut. Tomura was now diagonal from you and was shooting you a questioning look.

"Where's Touya?"

"I saw him go into the restroom as I came out." The lie rolled off your tongue easily, not even batting an eye as you take a bite of your donut. It tasted even sweeter than before.

Hitoshi shifts next to you, moving slightly closer as you stared back at Tomura innocently. Yo and Keigo were on the other side of Hitoshi and Tomura respectively, lost in their own conversation. Tomura's gaze was calculating, which was starting to make you uncomfortable. You assumed he was the quiet stay-in-my-business type, but now you weren't so sure. Thankfully Keigo noticed you were back and spoke up.

"Hey, (Y/n), are youf doin' anyfin' tonight?" The question was muffled around a mouthful of donut.

"Nope. Just free-loading with this guy." Elbowing Hitoshi playfully, you spare him a glance seeing that he was already staring at you with a gaze you didn't quite understand.

Looking back to Keigo, your answer seemed to trigger his memory of what he walked into this morning. His chewing slowed and Hitoshi shifted next to you again also noticing Keigo's gaze.

"Riigghhttt..." Keigo swallowed, uncertain, "well I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party with us tonight? It's being held at the same place as before."

Memories from that night flooded your mind and you couldn't help but sigh. That's when this whole mess started.

"Why do I get the feeling all you do is party?" You teased Keigo instead, setting your donut down on the bag as you leaned back into your seat. Your hands found their way to your lap, accidentally brushing against Hitoshi's hand which was resting on his thigh. His other hand was visible on the table, playing with the lid of his coffee cup absently.

Hitoshi subtly moves his hand and brushes against yours again, the two of you having your hands next to each other under the table.

Holding back a shy smile, you bite your lower lip as Keigo rolls his eyes. "We're in college! Partying is part of the learning experience!"

Just then, a body slumps into the seat in front of you. Everyone turns and looks at Touya whose gaze was solely fixated on you.

You tilt your head slightly in question, innocent enough for everyone else at the table but the knowing glint in your eyes had Touya's eyes flashing.

Hitoshi's hand twitches against yours under the table.

A closer look at Touya and you could see the flushed glowing skin on his cheeks. Raising an eyebrow, you lift the hand not next to Hitoshi and break off a piece of your donut, biting into it slowly.

"Are you good?" Hitoshi asks, speaking up for everyone at the table. Touya never breaks his gaze from you.

"Never better."

His words were low and knowing, but you shrug nonchalantly and turn back to Keigo. "Sure, I'll go."

"Yessss!" Keigo pumps the air with his arm.

"Go where?" Touya asks, and you can see him still staring at you in your peripheral.

"Oh, I just invited (Y/n) to the party tonight!" Keigo explains before turning to scold Yo for sneaking two more donuts.

Touya hums from across the table, probably thinking the same thing you did. You couldn't help the blush that found its way to your cheek, but you busied yourself with the donut, not looking up at anyone.

"I'll go too," Hitoshi speaks up suddenly, removing his hand from under the table to lean back and stretch his hands above his head. Keigo gasps harshly and everyone else at the table turns to look at him in surprise.

"You? At a party?!" Yo gaps at Hitoshi, chewed-up donut visible in his mouth. Hitoshi grimaces in disgust and looks down at his coffee before looking to stare at Touya.

"Why not? It seems as though I missed out on these 'learning experiences.'"

Touya didn't say anything in return but met Hitoshi's gaze head-on, his stare cold and unwavering making an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach.

~*~*~*~*

Breakfast ended soon after that as classes were starting for a few people, including you.

You parted ways with Hitoshi after discussing class schedules and deciding on a place to meet so you two could both head back to his dorm before the party.

Class went by in a blur, a few people talking about the dorms that got shut down and the few scandalous roommate situations that had come up as a result.

You tried eavesdropping on a few conversations wondering if your name would come up. Hitoshi was a low-key person, but since he was close friends with some notorious people on campus, you weren't sure what to expect.

"I tried asking Touya if I could stay with him, but he didn't even pay attention to me!" A girl whined to her friends in front of you as you flipped a page in your notebook, pretending to take notes.

A few of her friends 'awed' in pity, trying to console her. "Well, you know what they say about Touya...you should've known he wouldn't go back to you."

One of the friends spoke up truthfully and another shot her a 'shut-up' look. However, the girl whining only sniffed and nodded her head solemnly.

"Yeah...I know. If only I could relive that night again..." she sighs dreamily. This time all of her friends echo her dreamy sign.

"We all do," they say simultaneously.

Yikes.

Your lips curl up in disgust and tune them out, not bothering to listen to whatever details they were going to relive.

Absently, you start doodling on the paper. Little hearts and flowers scattered along the border. Your mind wonders to this morning, before the coffee shop. Sure, discovering you had somehow managed to one-up Touya was surprising, but Hitoshi's coy smirk was lodged in your brain.

The sound of his voice when he called you 'kitten' or just the simple fact he gave up his room for you to sleep in for however long you needed.

Not to mention the almost-kiss you had. Lately, it seemed like you've had a few of those close calls which didn't settle right in your stomach. First with Touya and then with Hitoshi, but out of the two, you felt more drawn to-

Your phone buzzed twice in succession, snapping you out of your daze.

brainwxshed: hey

bvrnt.eros: hey

Are you fucking kidding me?

You look at both messages, torn between who to answer first or if you should even answer them at all. Touya was the troubled one and the one you weren't too happy with at the moment no matter how downright sinful he was.

Hitoshi on the other hand has done nothing wrong to warrant your anger. Putting your pencil down, you slouch lower in your seat and open your phone, tapping on Hitoshi's message.

you: hii

You see him typing, but your fingers itch to tap on Touya's message too.

Should I? What does he have to say? Is he going to talk about this morning? Is he-

brainwxshed: sooo about this party later...what should i expect? fuck that sounds so lame...

You smile fondly.

you: you don't have to go if you're uncomfortable. im not to big on parties either. I just went to one that one time.

And look at my consequences.

brainwxshed: im going if you're going. gotta protect my little kitten.

brainwxshed: *the little kitten.

Your face heats and you drop your phone on your desk, holding in a squeal. Butterflies erupted in your stomach as it did backflips. Asshole. You knew that wasn't a typo and he was teasing you again but you couldn't find it in you to be mad.

Rubbing your face with your hands, you pick your phone up and switch to Touya's message to hopefully calm down.

you: what?

bvrnt.eros: hm...you're cold, (Y/n). i think i should be the one mad at you for what you did to me this morning.

Yep. There it is.

you: not my fault.

bvrnt.eros: oh dollface...but it was. walking off like that and leaving me alone to take care of myself after you made me so fucking hard...

Conflicting emotions shot through you.

you: again...not intentional so it's not my fault.

bvrnt.eros: i don't think you understand the concept of sexting, let me explain-

Gritting your teeth, you go back to Hitoshi's message.

you: protection from...?

brainwxshed: hey, you never know. i've heard stories and one thing i know for sure is that college parties are never good☝🏻...and they're crowded.

you: ahh...is that why you never went to one?

brainwxshed: ...partially. but also, why go when i can watch studio ghibli films in my dorm and draw?

Just then another message popped down from Touya.

bvrnt.eros: so sexting is basically like dirty talk over text. i said you made me hard this morning and i jerked off to the thought of you in the donut shop bathroom and you're supposed to respond with something sexy to keep the conversation going.

Oh my-

Angrily you tap on the message.

you: im not stupid and im not sexting you.

bvrnt.eros: boooo 🍅

You tap back to Hitoshi's message.

you: that sounds nice actually. if you wanna stay in your dorm, i'll stay with you.

brainwxshed: stay with me? careful kitten~ we might end up like this morning~

Your face heats up again.

you: i have no idea what you're talking about.

brainwxshed: 'stay with me' and i can show you later~

Another message from Touya pops down

bvrnt.eros: soo...this party tonight is kinda like our anniversary hm? how should we celebrate 👀

With every message Touya sends, you feel more agitated. He's ruining the mood that keeps building between you and Hitoshi. You swipe his message away and return to Hitoshi's message.

you: are you gonna kiss me for real this time?

Or so you thought.

bvrnt.eros: ...fuck.

bvrnt.eros: dollface i would kiss you all over if you let me.

Fuck.

Your body went ridged seeing Touya respond to the message meant for Hitoshi. Realizing you sent it to the wrong person and adding fuel to the fire that you were so desperately trying to put out.

Do I tell him that wasn't for him? Will he know I meant to send that to Hitoshi? How do I respond to Hitoshi now?

Your fingers twitch over your keypad, panic rising inside of you. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

bvrnt.eros: im looking forward to tonight, (Y/n).

Your fingers frantically type out many different forms of 'no' and 'that wasn't for you' but couldn't find one to settle on and send. The fact that Hitoshi was also waiting on a response made you panic even more.

Calm down, (Y/n).

Locking your phone, you set it down and take a deep breath. Deciding not to say anything more and make it worse, you shakily put your phone down and tune back into the professor who was dismissing the class.

You had to meet up with Hitoshi soon anyways and you weren't sure you could even look him in the eyes. Guilt washes over you, not knowing what to do or how to fix this situation. Tonight was not going to be fun.

~*~*~*~*

You met with Hitoshi soon after.

He was smirking at you avoiding him, but you knew he probably thought you were embarrassed from the text conversation when in reality that wasn't the case at all. Maybe under different circumstances you might've been, but because you were so careless-

"I need to stop at my old dorm and get extra clothes," remembering the text from this morning about the repairs not being finished and since you only packed for today, you needed more clothes.

"Sure," Hitoshi nods as the two of you begin to walk to the South dorms. "So..." he starts, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

You gulp.

"So?"

Hitoshi smirks, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"So about earlier..."

"Earlier? What happened earlier?" Panic rose in your chest. Did he find out? Did Touya screenshot your message and send it to him? Oh God what if-

Hitoshi turns and cuts in front of you, a pierced eyebrow raised in concern. "The party. You never told me what to expect."

A heavy breath leaves you in a rush.

"Right. The party." Shouldering past Hitoshi, you try to calm down, opening the door to the South dorms, frigid air hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Cursing lightly, you walk faster to your room and fumble with the door, footsteps cautiously catching up.

"Um..." Throwing open the door, you let Hitoshi in as you go to rummage through your closet. "Well, there's going to be a lot of people and alcohol. Music can be expected too. Just typical college party stuff," you mouth off quickly, still rattled thinking that Hitoshi found out about earlier.

Hitoshi wasn't even paying attention, walking around your dorm room and observing the little trinkets and decorations you had. It's only been one night, but you did miss it here. You turn back to your closet and pack a week's worth of clothes just in case and shove them into a bag.

"I really hope they fix the heater soon. I don't want to overstay or anything," you comment absently, folding a pair of pants.

"I thought you liked staying with me?" Hitoshi's voice was low and closer than expected, making you jump. Well, that certainly didn't take long for him to bring that part of the conversation up.

It felt as though he was right by your ear and you couldn't find the courage to turn around. Shakily, you place the pants in your bag and sidestep before turning and walking to your dresser to pull out undergarments.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Hitoshi still standing there, probably confused, before slowly turning towards you again.

"I do! I mean, thank you, but still. A week is a long time," you explain, counting off a checklist in your brain. Now...what to wear tonight...

You hastily pull open the bottom drawer, finding a short black dress you've only worn once before.

"Okay, I'm finished." Turning to Hitoshi, you shove the dress in the bag and walk back towards the door.

"Let's go, I'm freezing." Smiling innocently, Hitoshi regards you with a thoughtful look, not saying anything as you two leave the room. Locking the door and exiting the building was met with silence.

Hitoshi seemed lost in his thoughts and didn't say a word on the way back to his dorm for the two of you to get ready.

~*~*~*~*

The party was already packed by the time you and Hitoshi showed up. He stuck close to your side, looking uncomfortable at the number of people in such a small space. You didn't blame him, also wanting to get out of here as soon as possible and hopefully avoid Touya.

Of course, fate has other plans for you.

"(Y/n) and Hitoshi, over here!" Keigo calls out loudly over the music. Cursing, you trudge over and avoid looking at the piercing blue eyes already next to Keigo.

A warm flush finds its way to your face anyway and you manage a small smile at Keigo. Tomura and Yo were off to the side talking while drinking some beers. You try to recall if you saw them at the previous party but the only thing you remember is woodsy musk, sandalwood, and cigarette smoke.

I need to get out of here.

"Perfect timing! We were just about to play spin the bottle truth or dare!" Keigo motions to the large group of people surrounding the area and they cheer loudly.

Nope.

You take a large step back holding up your hands. "Have fun!"

"Awh c'mon, (Y/n)," Touya teases across from you. "It'll be fun. Just like last time." After stressing the last part, he glances at Hitoshi smugly and another wave of guilt washes over you.

You grit your teeth and shake your head, anxiety creeping up your spine. To your surprise, Hitoshi only steps forward.

"I'll play."

Keigo cheers excitedly, pumping his fist. "Oh, dude, this is the best day ever!"

Tomura had stopped talking to Yo, who was still talking regardless if Tomura was listening or not, observing the scene in front of him. Uncomfortable wasn't even a strong enough word you'd use to describe the situation.

Touya looked calm and collected as Hitoshi walked to stand next to him, the two of them now staring at you expectantly.

Purple and blue stared at you hotly, warmth spreading across your cheeks as they had looks of longing. Both held heat and memories of almost-kisses, but only one of them had a false knowing of what you said earlier.

"Uh..." Not knowing what to do, the whole group of college students now eagerly waited for you to answer.

"GUESS WHO'S BACK, FUCKERS!" The door slammed open suddenly, a loud voice ringing loud over the music.

Everyone turned to the door and loud cheers rang out, cutting the tension. Your shoulders sag in relief seeing Touya and Hitoshi finally look away from you. You follow their gaze seeing a blonde-haired man wearing black joggers and a black sweatshirt grinning manically at everyone welcoming him back.

"Kat!" Keigo calls out, running up to clap him on the back. "Man, this day really couldn't get any better!"

Well, at least someone is having a good time.

Kat claps Keigo on the back too and walks over to the group in front of you. Yo groans, making Kat roll his eyes and flick him on the forehead.

Yo scowls and rubs his head. Tomura greets Kat with a small smile and nod, offering to get him a beer. Touya grins and steps up, ruffling the spikey blonde hair making Kat snarl as he swats the hand away. Hitoshi was last, dapping up Kat fondly with a muted, "Hey, bro."

Hitoshi turns to you and motions you over.

"Katsuki, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Katsuki." You awkwardly smile, not sure if this was the right time to be meeting Hitoshi's roommate. Brother?

"Hey," Katsuki smirks, giving Hitoshi a look you didn't miss. Or Touya. "Hitoshi told me the situation already. It's cool if you still need a place to stay, but I'll need my room back."

The realization hit you suddenly and you risk a glance at Hitoshi who also had a small blush on his face, avoiding your gaze.

Seeing him blush made you blush more, awkwardly shifting your stance. Katsuki cackles at the sight of you and Hitoshi, but lays off the teasing, turning to Tomura who hands him a beer.

"So what are we doing?" He asks, biting the lid off with his teeth. Your mouth drops open slightly in awe as Keigo happily fills Katsuki in.

"Heh, spin the bottle, 'Toshi? What the hell happened when I was away?" Katsuki asks, shooting you another quick glance.

Hitoshi grumbles something you can't hear, making Katsuki smirk, and the both of them walk back to the circle. You go to follow and notice Touya's seething face once Hitoshi leaves your field of vision.

You quickly move away and go back to your previous spot, Tomura now standing next to you. "Are you okay?"

He whispered the question low, and you let out a huge breath you didn't know you were holding.

"No."

Tomura reaches out a hand, concerned, and you grab it shakily. He squeezes your hand and you squeeze it back, thankful for the reassurance.

"Right! So who wants to start?" Keigo announces to the large group of college students. A lot of cheers and drunken words rang out.

Tomura keeps a hold of your hand, tucking into your side as you stare at the damned bottle on the table. Touya and Hitoshi were back to standing next to each other across from you and if they were staring at you and Tomura holding hands, you couldn't find it in you to care. Though you were sure Tomura was staring right back without a care in the world.

"You're going to have to make a decision sometime." Tomura lays his head on your shoulder, murmuring solemnly. The question doesn't surprise you since you noticed his observation skills, so you were sure he had caught on long ago.

"...I know," you mutter back, still staring at the bottle unblinkingly. It was nice to have someone to talk to. You haven't told anyone of the situation going on and the drama that followed, so finding comfort in Tomura was reassuring and needed. Although unexpected.

"Do you have any clue which one?" Tomura asks, the both of you locked in your own world, watching Katsuki be the first one to spin.

Do I?

Honestly, it felt like you've been debating this question constantly for the past few days. Both made your heart race with excitement. Touya kept you on your toes but had a bad reputation and a cocky attitude to match. Hitoshi was unexpected in the way he welcomed you with open arms, but loved to tease you endlessly.

As of right now, there were no cons with Hitoshi but yet something still prevented you from committing fully.

"Not a clue," you finally admit, leaning your cheek on Tomura's head.

Tomura hums and the two of you watch Katsuki dare Yo to do a keg stand. Yo blanches as the crowd starts chanting his name in encouragement.

"Great. Now I'll have to deal with that later," Tomura sighs, annoyed.

Yo glares at a smirking Katsuki before flipping himself into a handstand, his shirt falling down making the crowd whistle and catcall him jokingly.

"Hm?"

"Yo. He's my roommate and cannot handle anything more than 2 beers," Tomura explains. "Which, Katsuki knows that."

You hum again and watch Yo stumble back down on his feet, looking green. Katsuki throws his arm around Yo's neck, saying something which only had Yo hiccuping in response.

"Your turn to spin, Yo!" Keigo exclaims excitedly.

Yo sways to the table and half-heartedly spins the bottle. It didn't spin very much and slowly made its way to you. You grip Tomura's hand tighter, watching the bottle stop.

Keigo cheers loudly.

"Truth or dare, (Y/n)?" Yo slurs, trying to focus his gaze on you.

"Uh...truth?" You whisper almost shyly, hearing the crowd boo.

Yo holds a hand to his chin to think. "Hm...who do you like more-"

"Dare!" You cut him off, not wanting him to finish that sentence. You were not going to risk that. People cheer at your change of heart.

"Okayyyy," Yo hiccups, "I dare you to do a 7 minutes in heaven with someone."

Yeah, no, that's completely better.

Keigo all but squeals, looking like he just won the lottery with how this night is going and Tomura squeezes your hand again tightly.

"Spin," Yo motions to the bottle, waiting for you.

The air seemed to crackle with electricity as you reached for the bottle, spinning it as hard as you could, praying it'd land on anyone but those two.

Touya and Hitoshi's gaze intensely watched the bottle, as the rest of the group cheered unknowingly at the tension. Your palms felt sweaty as anxiety loomed over you seeing the damned bottle slow as it towards Touya and Hitoshi.

It came to stop and the crowd 'ooh-ed' trying to figure out who it was pointing at.

"Is it...both of them?" Tomura murmured in awe, as Keigo whistled.

"Alright, I'll be the judge!" Keigo walked over to you and squatted down to see who the bottle was lined up with. "Oh wow...I've never seen this before. Ladies and gentlemen, it's split down the middle...we have a tie!" Keigo announces, hopping up.

The crowd gets hyped, all the girls shooting you a dirty look, but you really couldn't care because you were seconds away from passing out.

"Well, (Y/n)? Which one are you going to choose?"

~*~*~*~*

Touya's hitlist taglist:

@spaceisout @deputy-videogamer @magpiesworld @blahblahblahhhhhhhhhhhhhh @mod-hadagile @whokillednyx @ittybittywallflower @bubblewordsofsodapop @poopiepoopie123 @frontier-renegade @windex-princess-ami @yourfavoriteloover @ashash @shamefulwitch @allthingsleviackerman @97britt

🪼🧜‍♂️ life’s a beach, but let’s mer-make the best of it 🧜‍♂️🪼

[Mer!Dabi/Reader] [E]

Summary: There’s a new aquarium in town, and you (a graduating zoology major) are trying to land a summer internship there to gain some hands-on experience as you apply for jobs and research positions alike. Excited by the possibility, you decide to visit Universal Aquarium after your last final, taking a leisurely walk around to look at the types of fish you may get to work with, only to find that one of them is probably far, far beyond your paygrade…

… or where you are a degree-holding fish nerd who unknowingly begins to work at an aquarium that wasn’t originally created to be an aquarium, and you catch the interest of its sadistic, biggest-kept secret.

✨CHAPTER 3 UP NOW✨

featuring this lovely new artwork:

splintered machinations - pts one & two

Mer!Dabi x fem!Princess!Reader (SFW)

Hi guys! I've never done anything for MerMay before--I've never written any mer!characters/content before--but @meliapis graduated, I wanted to write something for her, and she mentioned mer!dabi...so, I just had to write a (not so) little something. This is still ongoing and will be updated periodically throughout May, but this is just a fun little idea I got from her and I wanted to share it as a graduation gift! Go check out her MerMay requests, too! <3

Synopsis: Boarding a ship per your father's orders, you begin the voyage across the deep blue sea toward Haliware Island. Despite the easy sailing the first few days, it seems the last isn't going to be the smoothest sailing.

Warnings: descriptions of spooky sea creatures in the deep ocean, descriptions of drowning, a hint of sailor!hawks, story will also contain: lots of future nsfw content, sexual tension, mer!dabi being a teasing & dirty talking kinda rogue, courting, idk what to call it but it kinda has regency era vibes but in a fantasy setting and not as stuffy, political stuff/politics between nations, a bit of reader x OC (but it's for the plot, I promise), and more (tbd as I write)

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: This is my first time writing mer!stuff. I hope y'all like it! This is for you, @meliapis!!

There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. No wind. No birds. Just sun. Beautiful, warm, wonderful sun. A soft creaking came as the boat beneath you gently bobbed; the nails holding it together stayed firm amongst the calm waters. One more day.

You’d be at the castle in one day. 

Your dress fluttered in an unmistakable breeze as the crew maneuvered around you. Ropes were pulled, sails were checked, a wheel was steered. Crates were secured firm to the deck, a thick cannon had its wheels stopped so it pointed out at sea regardless of the waves' strength, and songs were sung around bottles of liquor.

“Your Highness,” a smooth voice said, a head almost blocking the sun. “Care to join us?”

The blond, with cheeks that always seemed to burn and gain freckles than ever tan, peered down at you with a cheery smile. He wiggled a mug of beer that sloshed at the brim, his playfully slurred words fell across the empty span of where you sat. Two protective guards stood behind you. As if you were some treasure meant to be protected, not cargo. 

“I’d prefer to have my wits about me when at the mercy of the ocean,” you cooed, pushing up to your forearms. “You should know that, Keigo.”

“Mhm.” He raised his glass and glanced back at the group chugging down theirs below him. “But, surely, you ought to have a little fun before we arrive.”

Behind you, the guards shifted. A warning to him. His sharp golden eyes quickly stared back at them. A shhhh came as a sword was pulled partially out of a sheath, but Keigo remained. His sharp canines showed in his smile.

“Hence why I decided to look for shapes in a cloudless sky.”

You motioned up, but your point went unproven. A few puffy white clouds crept onto the scene. One looked like a barrel from a shootout, the cloud breaking the wood as bullets shot through the sky; another resembled your castle back home. Tall peaks, overlapping points with red and white flags attached, a door that often stayed closed until ceremonies. 

Keigo’s eyes narrowed at the sky.

“Well, Your Highness,” he said with a teasing bow. His slender frame curved, his oversized white shirt dropped down to expose his chest, and the tight fit of his brown pants stretched. “Enjoy the show, then.”

You threw up a sarcastic wave before sinking back down. The flash of skin was nothing new on the ship—the crew walked around only caring if their skin burned beyond repair. And as a few more clouds joined the castle in the sky, even more shirts were opened while beer was spilled, humidity rose, and laughter shot across the open air.

Keigo raised his glass when your eyes danced from the sky to the group. Some sat on barrels, others on the edge of the ship, more on the floor. The clinking glasses sounded like the chains around your wrists. The chortle was met with gruffs behind you. Under the breath comments idiots and pigs. Their royal breastplates had refused to be removed unless it was underneath the hottest suns. 

Breakfast could’ve been cooked on them—sprays of water sizzling as they were propped up on the side of the boat. 

“I rather think you two are,” you murmured, glancing back at the two soldiers. “They’re drinking while you think I’m somehow going to jump ship in the middle of the ocean.” They stared daggers at you like always. “What? Where am I going to go?”

You shoved up despite the eyes from the crew turning your way. A playful hint joined your tone as you spun, shade casting itself across the desk. The soldiers, sunburnt and peeling, glowered and tightened their grips on their swords. Just like the concept of you jumping ship, there wasn’t a chance they’d raise a blade to you. You were precious cargo. No harm could come to you before you got to the castle. They simply just had to make sure you got to the castle. 

“We’re still a day out; there’s nothing here.” 

You ignored the grumbled version of your name and their stiff movement toward you as you trotted to the edge. Carefully yet swiftly, you hopped up on the thick edge and threw your arms out, the blue ocean sloshing against the boat just behind you. A gust of wind caught your thin dress, throwing the thin skirt up. Despite the decorum—or lack thereof—on the ship, all eyes were glued to the glimpse of your legs. 

“Get down,” one of the soldiers—Hyatt—said. His hand tightened on his blade. “Now, princess.”

You bowed slightly with a smile that made a few of the crew holler and laugh. More glasses clinked together, and more chattering crawled across the dark deck. The loud thump of your feet hitting the thick wood made Hyatt and Thorne–the other soldier–both relax slightly. But, still, their hands remained on their blades. 

“Have you always been so defiant?” Thorne grumbled to himself as he shifted, peering out over the ocean. 

“Yes,” Hyatt muttered softly. 

“No,” you corrected, walking over and looking over the bow. A soft sigh snuck out at the sight. The vast ocean was a rich, dark, deep blue. Bluer than you’d seen during the past three days. “But waking up and being told I’m going on an involuntary trip tends to make the demure vanish.” A soft sigh snuck out as you closed your eyes and took in the salty air. “The sea is beautiful, though.”

Wait.

Something caught in your chest as you cracked your eyes open. The low rumble crawled up the back of your neck. It seemed to make the boat shake, yet the water remained undisturbed. The dark water turned into an unknown shadow beneath you—what creatures swam below made your hair stand on the back of your neck—but you were safe on board. 

Another low rumble.

The clinking of glasses got a little louder and laughter grew heavier.

“Hey, Princess, get away from the edge,” Hyatt said behind you, but your eyes remained down on the ocean.

You couldn’t normally see the bottom the far out, but this felt different. Maybe there was no bottom. Maybe the rich dark blue found itself attached to a creature ten times the size of the ship. In moments, it would open its eyes and blink up at you, encompassing the whole expanse of the color. One flip of its tail would split the boat into two. Or maybe thousands of splintered pieces. 

Your heart thumped faster.

“Princess,” Thorne tried.

The ocean remained undisturbed as something wet splattered against your skin. No. Not undisturbed. By living creatures, yes. There weren’t any eyes blinking back at you or massive jaws unhinging to swallow the ship whole. No dangerous tentacles to rip you to shreds or even carnivorous fish aiming to nip at your legs. 

But there were waves. White-capped waves.

You made the mistake of shooting your eyes upward. Dark clouds had gathered into a dangerous conglomeration. Where they’d come from remained unknown, and that bright sky felt permanently out of sight. The sudden movement of your head, accompanied with a strong wave below, knocked you backward. Even Thorne and Hyatt lost their sea legs, staggering away from the boat’s side and trying to regain their stances. Hyatt, still, called for you, his hand finally leaving his sword.

Air was thrown from you as your back collided with the floor. There was that low rumble again—it crawled across the sky like a serpent waiting to strike. Lightning flashed bright in the sudden darkness. Gone was the sun, and pouring, pelting, painful rain swallowed everything. The sound became too loud to bear while blinking up at the sky, and as Hyatt and Thorne loudly cursed, it went unheard.

It all went unheard, even when they stepped toward you and yelled at you. 

But you couldn’t move. The way the boat jerked, the thought of it falling apart at its seams came far too easily, and those creatures that could be lurking below would devour you the second you were overboard. Their sharp teeth would sink easily through your skin and tear you apart without hesitation.

“Princess,” a familiar voice whispered. It drew you from your sudden choke-hold in your throats while a hand went to your wrist and hoisted you up. “We need to get you inside.”

Keigo’s gold eyes blinked down at you, his smile unwavering even as yours twisted in fear. You nodded. 

“Move carefully and quickly,” he said loud enough for you to hear, both hands going to your waist. In otherwise less life-endangering scenarios, Keigo would’ve been reprimanded for even considering touching you, let alone on your waist. A sailor putting his hands on the Princess? Blasphemous. Yet you leaned into him as he balanced you and guided you down the stairs. All you had to do was get inside the Captain’s quarters, then you’d be safe. You both knew that. “Keep going, Princess. We’re almost there.” 

But almost there wasn’t a simple turn around a corner and through a sturdy door. Multiple steps descended onto the deck as water gathered upon everything. It slickened the boards that normally kept you steady; it weighed your dress down and made it cling to your legs; it pushed a ringing in your ears that sounded so high-pitched, it hurt. 

Your eyes went overboard as the ringing got worse. It was unwise to never heed a sailor’s warning. Just as it was unwise to never heed any warning from anyone so well-trained, experienced, and skilled in their field. You wouldn’t tell a world-renowned chef how to cook. You wouldn’t ignore a soldier’s careful heed before going out on the battlefield. You certainly wouldn’t ignore the stories told around the crew that the ocean was as beautiful as it was untrusting. It could be a person’s life and so obviously their death. Whether the fins and tentacles they saw after days of travel were real, it was always smarter to not take the chance.

So when Keigo braced you against his chest as the ship jolted, you leaned into him more. When he muttered to hold still for the next few seconds, you did. And when he told you to go, you trusted him. His gut. 

But he was still only a man. One without the blessing of foresight. 

The wave hit the boat harder than the others while a gust of wind knocked you back as if you were nothing more than a piece of paper. A slippery board caused your demise as Keigo’s grip struggled on your wet skin. They skated over you, his short nails barely scraping, until he threw his other hand out for you. Desperation clawed at him the way it did you, but his fingers only got a grasp on your dress. And that silky material was hell in his grip–slippery and betraying without a moment’s thought. 

There was fear and panic in those golden eyes as the thick banister meant to keep you safe dug into your back. The unkempt splinters snagged on your clothing as the world went upside down, and there was no ground beneath your feet. 

Was the rain coming from the ocean or the sky? Which dark sea was which? 

It felt like falling onto the floor when Keigo became a small speck on the boat. The air was knocked from your lungs so ineloquently, and you barely managed a gasp before you knew what was coming next. 

Darkness.

Soaking wet, impenetrable darkness. 

A sharp pain caught your back, then your arms, down into your legs. Cold. It was cold. Perhaps shock? Swim. You felt yourself sink deeper as you blinked through the salty water. The ache got worse, your body threatened to stop, and farther away the boat got. Swim, (Y/N). The surface distorted the image as you tried to see if anyone would save you, but alas—you couldn’t even get yourself back up to the surface. 

A burst of bubbles caught your attention to the right, heart rate spiking. You blinked into the abyss looking for those massive eyes, the tentacles, the carnivorous predators. Something touched your foot beneath you, and you screamed, the sound lost a mere inch in front of you.

Another splash of bubbles got you as you threw your arms up, kicking your feet and praying what’d touched you had been your imagination. Please. A silent plea that burned your lungs. I don’t want to die. Although, it’d be fitting, wouldn’t it? You clawed at the water until your nails would’ve bled. You kicked until the current simply laughed in your face. A harsh swirl that tore you further down like an anchor chained to your ankle. 

Please. If your eyes weren’t burning from the salt water, you were sure you were crying. I don’t want to die. I don’t. 

A gulp of water entered your mouth when you begged for oxygen. The fear skyrocketed as a barrel fell into the sea, sinking just low enough to get caught in the edge of the current. It smacked against your arms as you tried to reach for it, but as it bounced back up, you were shoved down. Another breath of water sent death knocking on your door.

Colder. The water got colder.

Your body stopped moving as you replayed the only pivotal moment that mattered, your father’s words pressing for you to get on the boat without a fight. Do what must be done, or you are not truly my daughter. A shove from Hyatt as you boarded the ship while the crew stared, never once having royalty aboard their boat. But your father had needed the royal sailors for his voyage. It’s a three-day trip; see her there safe.

You felt a sickening smile as the world went blurry. Safe. If he only knew.

- ch two -

There was once, when you were younger, you got to see snow. A family “vacation” to visit some Duke. A business meeting your parents often tried to pretend wasn’t that. You’ll get to meet his children. They’ll show you around the estate. But the prospect of something other than the dead winter so known in your kingdom was what drove you to be one of the firsts inside the carriage that morning. 

But it’d been a long trip into the mountains; your father switched between talking with your mother about the necessary duties upon arrival and departure and discussing with the soldiers to maintain protocol. And, desperately, even as you tried to maintain some composure, the long, exhausting, impatient ride could only keep a child still for so long. The second the doors opened and you saw the snow, you were off. 

The snowy scape had been otherworldly. You’d known nothing that beautiful before and all you knew was that you had to touch it. See it. Taste it. Follow it to what other beauties it could produce.

They yelled your name, but there’d been a little white rabbit hopping through the forest outside of the mansion. It called to you as the snow did, beckoning you further as cold seeped through your fur-lined shawl. With only about ten years of knowledge then, you hadn’t known why, as you tripped and fell into the icy tundra, tumbling down a hill and out of sight, how dangerous the chill was. Only that when it turned warm and your eyes got heavy, something was wrong. 

The soldiers—a young, sixteen-year-old Hyatt with his superior—found you hours later. It’d felt like an eternity, a hurt arm that was the first to go numb in the snow and a spiraling warmth shooting over your skin. But when you felt like you were close to falling asleep beneath a warm blanket, they appeared at the top of the snowy cliff you’d fallen down. 

Hyatt carried you back to the mansion, wrapped in his coat, while his superior ran ahead. A fire was started in one of the living spaces where your mother and father stood. You barely heard the scolding from your father as you sat in front of the burning flames and given a cup of warm milk. Stay by the soldiers’ sides from now on. Do you understand me? You merely nodded so softly and politely, the tone pressing its way inside your head as you kept your eyes down. 

Demure. It felt stuffy. But still, you nodded.

That cold. That was different than the one violently permeating your bones. Were you shivering? Your vision going dark made bubbles around you move. Your arms wouldn’t reach, your legs wouldn’t kick. And that rumbling, vibrating every part of you, was it above or below? Was an eye about to open, or maybe some jaws aiming to end it quickly? The pressure pushed hard against your head, and that was all you could take as seawater went down your throat again.

The surface disappeared behind closed eyes. What would get you first–the Reaper or a hidden predator on the brink of starvation? 

Perhaps both.

Warmth.

Were you dead? Where there was warmth, as your father so woefully explained, there was death. In the cold, at least. Perhaps the Reaper had found you and tore you down to his level, your soul rising—rising? You tried to open your eyes, but all you were met with was pale contrasting the darkness. 

Had you been able to move, you would’ve done something other than peer up. There were arms wrapped around you, shoulders in front of you, the curve of a neck, hair that blended in with the sea, but those eyes. You blinked yours hard at the rushing movement. It made the pressure in your head dissipate far too quickly, and bile rose in your throat. But those eyes, outlined by sharp features, a mouth pressed into a fine line, spiky dark hair pushed back from the momentum; they were so bright they nearly glowed. Never had turquoise look so beautiful.

And when he dared to glance down, taking what felt like a dreamy moment before death and making you remember that your heart could still beat, he smiled. One of secrets. Of knowing. Of saving as you suddenly broke through the surface and the rain pelted your sore skin.

Your pulse ticked higher while those eyes stayed on you; the sudden gasp for oxygen became you barreling over, vomiting into the sea. Puke and mouth-drying seawater mixed into the darkness as your guts heaved, lungs burned, and throat tore with every hack. What the hell was going on? Who– Again, the world spun as the stranger moved, and your eyes widened as you tried not to vomit once more. 

He wasn’t from the crew, even delirious, you knew. Two days with them, you knew most of them. Not all by name, but you knew them. Their faces, their demeanor, their connection to your home. And this stranger…he moved you closer to the boat at a speed unfathomable to you, even on your best days in the water. 

You tried to speak, but as your vision grew blurry and your eyelids heavy, the pain in your throat became a blockage. 

Who are you?

“Don’t,” his cool voice murmured. It would’ve shocked you had there been any feeling left in your body. He spoke. “Save it for your real rescue party.”

For some reason, you did as he said. He held you closer, arms swallowed in areas of dark ink you couldn’t make out. Glinting jewelry that managed to shine through the storm clouds. Over his fingers which pressed firmly into you, on his nose in a little trio to create a triangle, and over his ears. And his entire upper body—bare. 

Had your guts not been twisting into a fine tornado and you stopped tasting the salty mix of your lunch on your tongue, you would’ve been scandalized. But as you were draped over that devilish barrel, the wood managing to bob in the water, you felt nothing but grateful as his hands slid down over your back, waist, hips. 

“Scream,” he whispered beneath the rain, and all you could do was glance back. Those otherworldly eyes were all that poked out of the water for a moment as he slinked back. He kept them locked on you, burning with an intensity you could barely understand. He popped up just enough to speak again. “I won’t save you again.”

His grin revealed sharp canines before he disappeared beneath the water. A beat, two, three of piercing rain dropped down around you. Then it surfaced. A sparkling tail of black scales, a mix of blues were dulled without sunlight, and a silver ring on one side of the arcing flipper. 

The silence roared in your ears as you stared at where he’d disappeared. Tail. But as you tried to call a thought, tried to piece together a puzzle so desperately right in front of you, you hacked up another breath of water. 

Tail.

A scream followed it as black started to dot your vision. The cold water froze your body stiff, and you clawed to stay on the barrel through another wave. It was broken and choppy, no way audible through the storm, but the boat was right there. You could almost touch it.

You screamed again.

Louder. 

Until you tasted something metallic in your mouth.

Hyatt, Thorne, Keigo. One of them had to be looking for you.

A splash in the water gathered your attention as you started to slip off of the barrel. Your nails ached as they pressed into the fine wood. Stay afloat. But as your body went limp, that water crept higher toward your mouth. Weakly, you screamed again.

This time, as a wave threw you off the barrel, it was met with two arms and two legs going out for you.

“Gotcha, Princess,” Keigo’s voice whispered in your ear. “You’re safe. I gotcha.”

A thick rope was tied around your waist and wrapped as skillfully as possible around your legs. A seat of sorts was created as Keigo swam you back toward the side of the boat, dragging you with your head never dipping back into the water. Those golden eyes were sharp first at the ship and then softer down at you. 

The world went dark as Keigo tugged on the slack of the rope and yelled upwards. His mouth was pulled away from your ear, yet his volume should’ve carried. How your scream was heard all the way up to them, you weren’t sure. Keigo’s was nearly drowned in the violent pitter-patter of the storm.

“Hey, hey. Stay with me, Princess.” 

His lean arms were strong as they gripped you. The rope went taut, and everything moved. But the world, as you blinked one last time, never returned to the gray-scaled color scheme the storm created. 

“Princess. Stay with me.”

There was sun. A cot. A blanket. A dress that reeked of sea, storm, and something clean. The ceiling looked familiar. The blinds on the window were cast open to shine the sun on your cheeks. Clouds shot across the sky in the opposite direction the whole room seemed to lurch toward. 

A wrap of gause went around your right forearm. 

One blink. Two. Three. Four. Pain throughout your whole body burned as you sat up, a thin blanket falling from your upper body. Dress. It was dry. The thin material bunched up and wrinkled in places that pressed the same patterns into your skin. Storm. You tried for a long breath and were met with the same burning sensation in your throat. Overboard. Sea. Drowning. 

Outside, there was commotion. Some yelling, hollering, excitement. Orders were shouted. The captain, some burly guy whose name was out of reach, yelled to slow. Again, the boat lurched. 

“Oh, finally, Princess.” Hyatt’s voice came through from the corner. Thorne was asleep next to him, both in a change of clothes, their weapons discarded. Worry pressed into Hyatt’s tanned and peeling skin. “Are you okay?”

Turquoise. You stared at Hyatt’s rich green eyes and turned back toward the window. Anchor was dropped as you coughed, hacking up something sweet in the back of your mouth. Your fists tried to rub sleep from your eyes, but it barely helped. Yawning only accentuated the pain in your throat. 

“The medic gave you some medicine to assist you in sleeping. I think the bastard misjudged the amount.” Hyatt nudged Thorne’s foot. “Wake up, idiot.”

You coughed again, eyes stuck on the window. The cold of the water stayed with you in a shiver, the smell clinging to your dress and seeping through your skin. Thorne said something half-asleep and under his breath. Are we there? Your gaze, stuck outside, watching the sky grow into an island. A castle that stretched larger than your father’s. A town filled with buildings of every color of the rainbow. A spread of docks with ships docked within and a harbor waiting for new arrivals to shop and sell.

A tail.

“Yeah,” you croaked, the word tearing at your throat. 

A sense of purpose and dread coursed through you as the boat came to a halt. 

“We’re here.”

thinking about Dabi getting off on the fact that you think he’s no good for you. you tell him you can’t get involved with people like him but that only makes him want you more. you’re naive, it’s cute, and it has him yearning to ruin you. you don’t even know what you want. you say he’s no good but still end up underneath him every other day begging for more…

omg wait wait, imagine- he’s got you on the edge of an orgasm, thrusting at a brutal pace and hitting your sweet spot in the best way. then he’s all like “say i’m no good,” and you whimper out a “y-you’re no good for me,” just for him to go “yeah that’s right. i’m no good. and that’s why you can’t stop cumming on my cock right?” 🙃

Without Consent

Permission to use the art granted by the artist. Please refrain from using the art without permission. Shar's too cute of a button to deal with that.

Dabi x fem!Reader

⇢ word count: roughly 2.3K

⇢ plot: you (more or less) accidentally bump into Dabi and are in for a big surprise

⇢this is kind of the SFW version. I still recommend NOT reading it with others around, especially not your boss hehe

⇢ warnings: 18+, minors DNI, Dabi being the flirty tease we all love, (somewhat) consensual restraining of the reader, steamy makeout session (ok ok, mostly just kissing) but also some dry-humping resulting in a wet spot on Dabi's pants—oops!

⇢ personal note: I've always wanted to write something inspired by @sharlockart ´s art. I got her permission to go ahead and booooooom! Here we are!  Thanks to @blankexpressions-and-falsefires for being my beta this time. You're the best!

It was then that you felt it. The lingering feeling of someone watching you. You looked up to find two incredibly piercing azure irises pointed sharply at you.

Shit.

The bright blue of his eyes turned dark as he continued to side-eye you with an unmoving expression. Your face went ablaze and you instantly dropped your gaze, shoving your phone with trembling hands back in the pocket of your jacket. Cursing inwardly a few times for having been caught staring, you hastily turned to make your way through the crowd across the intersection. You took a peek over your shoulder, a wave of relief washing over you when you didn't see him among the people behind you. 

By "him" you meant one of the most dangerous villains in the country, Dabi.

You would have recognized him anywhere– the usual bored expression on his face, that all too familiar messy raven hair with bangs falling over his brows. The mauve scarred skin—

—and the piercing blue eyes. 

It still sent chills up your spine recalling the moment they met yours. He had stood there, one hand holding a cigarette, the other a phone to his ear while he talked to someone. The way his black pants clung to his thighs way too alluringly, his beige sweater and a black leather jacket complementing his features even more.

And even though a warm, comforting fuzziness still clouded your head after that short encounter, you started to regret having visited this part of town which was known to be the home of some sketchy outcasts and– villains. 

You'd always been fascinated by the less than savory figures— not the overhyped heroes of your hometown. It's been a hobby of yours to study them, especially the members of the League of Villains. And your particular obsession had been with Dabi.

You had been spending your afternoons after college strolling around those areas in hopes of finally meeting him, finally being able to snap a picture of him.

And this time you did—

—and weren't at all prepared for your reaction. The instant jolt of fire coursing through your veins as soon as your eyes met his. The feeling of wanting to lose yourself in their depths. Endorphins rushing through your system, triggering a blistering heat in your core and making your panties stick to you in ways they usually only did during late night hours, with your hands down your panties while thinking of him.

Again—shit.

With your emotions all stirred up and still unable to focus, you had taken a wrong turn. The next bus stop being several blocks away meant you just had to keep walking, your eyes squinting as light became increasingly sparse. It was getting darker outside, the sun slowly setting behind the concrete mass of the city, the long shadows of the tall buildings slowly caging you in. Dainty street lamps sparingly lined the streets, their thin yellow rays fighting to reach the ground, failing to penetrate the overwhelming darkness.

A musty breeze was blowing, sending leaves and pieces of garbage dancing noisily across the cracked concrete floor. The sky was painted in hues from flame to azure, yet here in the depths of the street between the buildings you didn't see much, only growing shadows creeping in on you. 

The breeze picked up and you shivered, regretting your choice to only wear a loose sweat-dress and a pair of thin, skin-colored tights. You pulled up the zipper of your cropped jacket, and sighed, hoping that you would soon get to a bus stop.

A loud ping startled you out of your train of thought, your phone vibrating urgently. Your heart nearly jumped out of your chest as you stopped in your tracks, sliding your hand in your pocket to retrieve it. 

The display shone bright in the dim light of the street alley as you unlocked the screen with a swipe. A message popped up—your friend. 

Where are you, expecting you to be home by now. 

You groaned, thinking back on how you wouldn't have had to walk home if it weren't for the distracting encounter with that devious blue-eyed villain earlier on.

"That damn bastard—" You started.

A voice suddenly spoke close by. “I hope you're not talking about me.”

A large hand appeared out of the darkness from beside you, wrapping around both of your wrists and gripping them tightly, causing your phone to slip from your grip. A weak whimper fell from your lips, while it was caught mid air by another purple scarred hand, the dim light of the far away street lamp reflecting weakly in the silver staples adorning it.

Your body froze as you were shoved against the wall, hands being jerked up and pinned over your head against the rough bricks to hold you in place. Your breath hitched as you elevated your face, your gaze instantly locking with a pair of icy blue eyes boring into you.

Dabi.

He casually glanced at the unlocked screen of your phone, scrolling through your chat. Slipping the phone into his own pocket, his gaze drifted back up, lazy blue eyes flicking up to yours. 

"So, you're taking pictures of me without my consent?" he tipped his head, an eyebrow cocked.

You let out a little breathy moan, squirming in his hold, surprised at how thrilling it felt to be manhandled like this.

"At least you think I look fine. That earns you bonus points." His lips curled up into a devilish smirk. 

"Sir, you don't want to do this!" you swallowed nervously, his intimidating aura making you squirm. "Just please, let me go."

"C'mon, doll." He chuckled darkly, "You know my name. Use it."

"D-Dabi—" it came out as a mere whimper. "Please, I need to get home."

"God, my name sounds so fucking hot on your tongue." He cooed, his voice deep and husky, enough for your heartbeat to quicken.

Up close, he was even more attractive than you came to learn from the blurred images you've seen online or in the news. His scent was overwhelming, a mixture of warm skin and smoke. It had an effect on you unlike anything you've ever experienced. Your nerves were on fire, the heat between your legs blistering as you clenched your thighs together.

Dabi seemed to notice, because his smirk grew wider as he closed the gap between you. The staples on his face scraped along your cheek as his lips brushed your earlobe and your body felt hot all of a sudden.

"But still– maybe I should do something to you without your consent?" His low, sultry voice being so close sent instant shivers up your spine. "What do you think, doll– you gonna be a good girl for me?"

It was like your body reacted on its own, as you slowly nodded, making him chuckle against your ear. It was enough to make your stomach somersault while you felt his mismatched lips brush back over your cheekbones, leaving a trail of nibbles here and there, making you gasp with the forbidden pleasure. You could feel him grinning against your skin at your reaction as he slowly made his way toward your lips. 

You had forgotten how to speak– how to move. When his lips brushed the corner of your lips, a scorching heat shot right through your body, clouding your mind with indecent thoughts. Without thinking, you parted your lips in anticipation.

A pleased sound rumbled deep in Dabi's chest. But he simply paused there, just breathing against the corner of your lips. It was torture and he was obviously greatly enjoying your reaction as you felt him smirk again.

Suddenly, he straightened up, eagerly taking you in with smoldering turquoise eyes.

"You're cute." You heard him say under his breath as he kept taking you in, tracing his long finger along the line of your cheek.

You were biting your lower lip, unsure where to look, too distracted by your body slowly burning up. With him still holding you in place by your wrists, you watched his free hand retrieve your phone from his pocket. Swiping across the dark screen it came to life, instantly unlocking.

"Pfft, how naive," he noted, laughing under his breath. "Not using a password…"

Oh shit, you berated yourself for always forgetting to set one up.

His thumb flew over the display and when he was done, he looked up at you, and with a wide grin he slipped your phone back into the pocket of your jacket. 

He adjusted his grip on your wrists, keeping you in place as he leaned in. You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loudly against your chest. 

"Unfortunately, this is where we have to part, doll." His free hand started playing with loose strands of your hair. "But I think you still owe me an apology."

Your eyes flicked to his lips and back but it was too late. His mouth curled suspiciously at the corner, having caught your wandering gaze.

"I think you know what I mean—" He tilted his head, his eyes slowly dropping down to your mouth.

He trapped your chin between his thumb and index finger, pulling your face up and closer. As he angled his mouth above yours, you could feel the heat of his breath on your lips, and instinctively your eyelids fluttered shut.

Time seemed to stand still at his close proximity; the warmth of his body against yours and his breath on your lips became your entire existence. You couldn’t even think, let alone move. You were completely at his mercy.

“Just like that…” you heard him whisper before he eased his lips over yours.

It struck you like lightning when you found his tongue slipping inside to explore your mouth. Your mind short-circuited as he sensually worked your mouths together giving you ample time to catch up and start to kiss back eagerly. He was the best thing you've ever tasted, and the scent of his smoky, warm skin drugged your senses. You let yourself fall into his kiss, his hand sliding behind your neck to pull you deeper into it.

His mouth was so hot on yours, leaving you lightheaded and with buckling knees. You would’ve sunk to the ground already if it wasn't for his tight grip on your wrists.

As if he knew, his thigh pried open your legs and slipped between them, pinning you in place. You gasped into his mouth, goosebumps exploding all over your body.

There was so much heat between your legs, your panties were soaked and the thin fabric of your tights didn't do anything to hide it from him.

You were starting to lose your mind as you continued to kiss, his thigh pressing right against your dripping core. You needed more, more of him down there. So without thinking, you started grinding down on his leg, the rough fabric of his jeans grazing against you, giving you ample friction to satisfy your growing need. Back and forth, you worked your hips until you were a trembling mess in his hold. You were so close to feeling the tension release, your body was ready to explode with pleasure.

Suddenly, he pulled away from you a little, groaning deeply– his eyes, dark and hooded with lust, boring into yours. 

“So innocent,” he hummed appreciatively. “But such a big tease."

He straightened back up, sliding his thigh out from between yours. A strained whimper broke free from your lips at the loss of pressure. Releasing you from his hold, your arms dropped uselessly to your side. You started soothing the fresh ache by massaging your slowly bruising skin. Your eyes, following his thigh after it left you wanting, noticed a damp spot on his pants where you had ground against it. A blazing heat bloomed in your cheeks, your gaze dropping down onto the mucky ground.

"That was fun." He said, followed by a short chuckle as he stepped back.

You looked up at him from under your lashes, still too embarrassed to look him straight in the face.

"But– gotta go." And with that he adjusted the bag around his shoulder and strutted off. "See ya, doll—"

He stopped to shoot you a glance over his shoulder. His deep turquoise eyes met yours, lingering on you for a few moments before he took another step and was swallowed up by the darkness.

The moment he was gone had you hyperventilating, toppling against the scratchy brick wall for any sense of stability. Your palm clasped your chest as you tried to regain control of your breathing. 

What the hell just happened?!?!

It was then that your phone vibrated, a text tone alerting you of a new message. With trembling fingers you pulled it from your pocket to see a message from an unknown number.

Holy shit…

To be continued...

Based on a conversation I was having with @anima197

Imagine husband Dabi, scumbag as usual adapting as a newlywed to you

It’s been around a month of you two moving in a small but nice house that his parents bought for you. He’s always been an asshole by personality, but one day he goes too far.

Maybe it’s something he said in a cruel jest to see you rise to the bait, or maybe he touched you in a way that was more than offensive or hurtful. Either way, you finally snap- except, you don’t combust and break down quietly, you turn cold as stone.

You set your jaw, keep your eyes cool and indifferent as you skirt around him when he walks by. He doesn’t know that he’s upset you because you usually brush his tactics off with an eye roll or a pout. He’s never seen you like this, completely ignoring him and barely acknowledging his existence while he tries to get you bothered.

He tries pushing you against a wall to make you flustered, but it doesn’t work. You will your body to become limp and unresponsive as he snarls into your neck and litters it with hickies, desperately trying to pull some sort of sound of either pleasure or pain from you. It doesn’t matter how his hands dance around your tits and between your legs, you just stare ahead past him, your mouth set in a straight line.

He draws back uncertainly at your lack of response, and his heart drops to his stomach when he doesn’t even see tears in your eyes from overstimulation, like you usually do when he attacks you like this.

Before he can even open his mouth you’re already gently pushing past him, and it’s the fact that you’re not even angry or shoving him that makes panic settle on his heart.

This…this indifference, this feeling as if he doesn’t mean anything to you breaks his cocky attitude .

At first he tries to refute the feeling, he merely trails behind you from room to room picking up random objects and pretending that he’s actually doing something apart from eyeing you and assessing your demeanor.

You don’t pay any attention to him. You open your laptop and absentmindedly hum as you begin working on whatever class or job you have. He stands at the entrance, fiddling with a vase and looking at you from the corner of your eye.

“Did you eat yet?” He says in his hoarse voice, almost embarrassed to talk to you after his earlier libido was met with no reaction at all.

Silence.

He sighs frustratedly and runs a hand through his ivory hair. Turning on his heel, he storms out of the room and mindlessly goes to the kitchen, making as big as a racket as possible in hopes of luring you out of your catatonic state to yell at him for being too loud.

He eats alone, in silence.

He doesn’t finish his crappy sandwich, fuming at the bland bread that substitutes for the plentiful food you always make for him.

It’s almost evening now, and you haven’t come out of your room yet to even use the restroom. He’s getting worried now, you’ve never been so quiet before. You’ve at least been fed in the face, a finger pointed at his chest as you yell at him for how he fucked up. So why can’t you do that now? At least he’ll know what to apologize for, dammit! Why does he have to wring it out of you?

He decides a different tactic now.

Hed bully your emotions out of you, one way or another.

You’re about to change your clothes when he walks in for the umpteenth time. You don’t lift your head when he slams the door open and closes it behind him, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Why are you being such a bitch today?”

After a few beats of silence, he barrels towards you while you shrug on your nightie. He grabs your face towards him and knocks on your forehead harshly.

“Hello? Anyone in there?” He shakes your head lightly.

You look at his collarbones and then gently pull your face away, heading off to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

Dabi stares at you in shock, his ha da still suspended in midair. Did he really mess up that badly?

The panic in his heart has risen to his throat, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

He’s 13 years old again

His father is ignoring him

He messed up, he didn’t train well enough today

In the process of trying to be better than everyone else he had effectively isolated himself again

He’s practically invisible because he fucked up so bad

He stumbles back out of the room and falls onto the couch, clutching his hair and panting with wide eyes into a pillow. It takes him a couple of minutes to tone down his impending panic attack

By the time he has enough nerve to get into bed with you, the lights are already off and you’re seemingly fast asleep.

Dabi quietly trudges over to the side of the bed and stands over your sleeping figure.

You look so peaceful right now without any part of him to bother you. He wonders if you’re better off without him.

He slowly crawls under the sheets with you and faces your back. He knows you need space but he can’t help it when his arms move around you to hold you tight against him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did to make you this upset, but I know I fucked up. Please just-“

His voice catches in his throat, and at this you crack an eye open, making sure to keep your breathing deep and level.

“Just tell me what I did. Or at least just forgive me for whatever I did…I miss you.” He whispers this last part and buried his head in your hair, taking deep breaths and inhaling your scent. It makes his aching heart beat a little slower.

You don’t say anything, but after a full minute of silence you slowly turn to face him. He unconsciously grips your body harder against him as if he were afraid you’re going to push him away again.

But instead to his amazement, you have both eyes open and trained on him. He knows to keep his mouth shut when you prop your head up on one hand and frown slightly at him.

“You’ve been on my nerves for the past week now. Every time I try to talk you either cut me off or just shut me up with sex. You never clean up after yourself and laugh it off when I actually ask you to do something.”

He swallows hard and waits with bated breath for you to finish.

“You literally hounded me down for almost years to get married, and only a month after we actually get together you start acting out.”

You stare at him and he knows he can talk now.

“I’m…sorry. I’ll try to be, uh, better.” He finished lamely, and he cringes when he realized how pathetic his apology was.

But much to his surprise, a small little smile forms at your lips. Compared to how he never even acknowledged how big of an ass he usually is, this was a huge step in your relationship with him.

“Yeah, we’ll see. You better be on your best behavior for a while now.” And with that, you turn over and flop down into the plushy comforter.

Dabi let’s put a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the weight on his chest being lifted.

“So, uh…can I still like, touch..you?” He trails off, and you’re glad he can’t see the 50k watt smile on your face when he shifts uncomfortably.

“If you make it up to me, maybe.”

Dabi grins too.

“I don’t think you’ll ever have a problem with that.”