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Angel's Use (Hawks, Twice, Dabi, Mr. Compress, Spinner, Tomura Shigaraki)

Kinktober 2023 Day Thirty-One: (Dub-Con) Free Use

𝗟𝗼𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗢𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗦𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗲: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

“Twice…? Is she okay?”

You know…

“Angel-chan? She’s fine, she likes doing this. Little whore isn’t fully house-trained! Let’s teach a lesson!”

Hawks used to be one of your favorite heroes.

Hearing his voice asking if you were okay, it reminded you of that feeling. Of that little fondness you had for him. The fact that he was your age helped a lot. But it’s hard not to fall in love with someone that cute and charming. The deep pockets were a plus, and the fact that he was such a hard worker out in the field made you like him so easily. He saved lives, just like you did. And for a girl with a boring life and boring job, that was enough of a connection to get a crush going almost instantly after his debut all those years ago.

But right now? You can’t even look at him. But he looks at you. He’s been looking at you a lot.

And you can’t blame him. You really can’t.

You were declared dead a couple of months ago. That’s what Kurogiri told you. That you’re supposed to be a ghost. That you’re not supposed to exist anymore. A pretty little nurse with a powerful quirk goes missing one night. Only for an unidentifiable body to appear in the same place a couple of days later. With a case as strange as yours, heroes were bound to take notice. Bound to remember. And bound to call the authorities if you’re ever seen again. So they’ve always taken precautions when it came to you. Always made sure that you weren’t seen. Weren’t heard. Weren’t anything to anyone outside of the walls of the hideout.

So you’d like to think that that’s the reason why one of the best heroes in Japan is staring at you so intently. You’d like to think it’s because he recognizes you. Or that he’s trying to gauge what’s the best way to rescue you from this hell. You’d like to think that. But the truth is that it’s getting hard to think nowadays. It’s getting hard to use your head clearly. To parse through those muddled thoughts of yours. To move past all the tasks and distractions in front of you. And right now, you can feel his gaze on you. It’s strong and intense and so, so hard to ignore. Just like it’s hard to ignore the humiliation you can’t help but feel.

After all, it’s not like it’s every day that your only hope of rescue gets to see you lazily suck another man’s dick like some toy.

But you can’t help the feeling. Just like you can’t help the position. You try to block it out. You try to block it all out. But the farthest you manage to get is letting the words around you dull into nothingness. You’re still very aware of where you are. Of what you’re doing. Of who they are. No matter how hard you try to block it out, you still feel the cool, smooth feeling of leather against your bare, heated as you lay on your stomach with your head in Twice’s lap. You still feel the rumble of the man’s heartbeat and breath, and he speaks to Hawks without so much of a care for your existence. You still feel the openness- the vulnerable feeling of being laid out on the couch of the common room like some toy. Lips wrapped around a dick and tongue flickering up against it as people all around you go about their lives. As if you aren’t there. As if you were meant to be there.

Above you, Twice’s chest rumbles, as if he was told a good joke. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Hawk’s golden-eyed gaze turned to you. Expression concerned, but masked fairly well. But you don’t look at it for long. Instead, you find yourself squeezing your eyes shut and bobbing your head down to take a more active role and pleasuring one of your captors.

Twice’s deep-chested laugh turns into a moan, and one of his hands comes to rest in your hair. A grip so gentle. A touch so sweet. You could have forgotten that he was a villain. For just a moment. For just a minute. For just a second. But you didn’t.

Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut a little tighter. Maybe if you try to deep-throat him right now, no one will know just where exactly your tears are coming from. Maybe if you bury your face even lower in Twice’s lap, Hawks will stop looking at you. Maybe he’ll even forget you. Maybe you’ll forget you too. But you don’t. You can’t.

“Get Angel’s attention.”

The world hates you far too much for you to receive your peace.

“I want my turn.” The familiar sound of Dabi’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. All of a sudden, everything that felt dull and far away felt closer. Louder. Clearer. You become hyperaware of your surroundings. Of the salty taste in your mouth. Of the TV playing the twenty-four-hour news cycle playing quietly. Of the palms that are so rough and so hot they burn coming to grab at your waist and easing you into lifting up your hips. At that, your fight or flight kicks in. You breathe labors, and before you know it, you’re pulling your mouth off of Twice’s dick to look behind you. You can hear the man’s two-sided comments. The gentle side of him’s disappointed sigh. And his other side calling you a whore. But right now? “You don’t mind if I come through the back door, don’t you, Angel?”

There’s something bigger and scarier than Twice happening behind you.

You can’t help the fear that overtakes you in that moment. The whimper that leaks through your throat as your hands ball up into fists and your bottom lip quivers. The look Dabi is giving you behind his messy dark hair- it isn’t unfamiliar. You’ve seen that same emotion in those pretty blue eyes of his. You’ve seen it since the first day you met him. But now you’re not as stupid. You’re not as naive. And you’re much more willing to scoot back and get on your knees and relax. Well, try to relax. There’s oh but so much you can do when you’re telling yourself that you have to sit face down, ass up for a serial murderer and pyromaniac. All to live. All to live.

Out of the corner of vision again, you notice Hawks. His feathers have ruffled. Ever so slightly- an action almost too quick to catch. But you noticed it. And Dabi did too. Because a second later he’s laughing. And a second later, you’re turning your head away from him. From both of them. Your gaze falls back in front of you. At Twice’s cock, sitting angry and red and wet, and messy and forgotten as it rest on the man’s abdomen. Leaking a pearly trail of precum onto his stomach. You already miss it. He’s only a couple inches away and you already miss him. Because even if he’s like the rest of the men in this hideout who use your body so freely for their own desires, at least Twice is gentle with you. At least he’s kind to you.

But as the sound of a zipper hits your ears, and something thick and hard and just way too big starts prodding at your anus, you know that there’s no saving you today. No going back to just laying naked on the couch and warming someone’s cock. No going back to hoping you won’t be perceived by the golden boy hero who only recently turned to the dark side. There’s only your pain. There’s only someone else’s pleasure. Taking from you. Tainting you. Torturing you.

“Fuck, that’s it, sweetheart.”

Until it’s someone else’s turn.

“You’re still so tight back here, hmm?” You hear Dabi rumble from behind you. Voice low and sultry as his hands pull you closer and closer to him as your body swallows inch after inch with loud cries. The stretch- it burns. More than the heat from his scarred, scarred hands. From the fire alight in his eyes every single time he looks at you. More than anything in the world. And this stretch- this sudden fullness fills you up from behind like an invasive species taking over what was never theirs in the first place- it tugs at you from the pits of your stomach. It screams for attention. It begs for your tears. For your embarrassment to grow. And you can’t ignore this feeling. You can’t ignore this pain. They may have broken you to be their toy, but angels can’t be killed so easily. “Spinner was back here less than a week ago, and yet I can just barely fit. Perfect little whore.”

No matter how many times you wish for death.

“Hey!”

At the call of his name, Spinner responds from somewhere else in the bar. You hear his footsteps, heavy and hard pad over to where the couch is. But you can’t see him as he starts bickering with Dabi. You’re far too busy breathing out deeply. Whining and wriggling and whimpering oh-so-loudly as Dabi bottoms out inside of your ass. Now, all you can think about is the pan and how it heightens every sensation around you. How it turns your mind into mush and brings the heat to your cheeks as you wish for nothing more for it to be over. For you to disappear between the couch cushions. So much so that you barely even notice the hand reach out and brushing its fingers against yours.

But you do notice. And you know it belongs to Twice. Offering the smallest amount of comfort possible to you. But it’s something you can’t appreciate. Something you can’t even savor. Because before you know it, Dabi’s moving his hands off your hips and wrapping them around your waist. In one fell swoop, you’re being flipped. Your position changes. And somehow the dick in your ass manages to bury itself even further inside of you. And oh, how you cry out. Oh, how you thrash. But Dabi’s got you locked in his lap now as he lays back against the couch. He’s got your legs spread nice and wide with your pretty, little pussy on display and his cock plugging up your other hole. He’s got his head buried in your neck, and the scent of ash and smoke surrounding him. Clinging to him. Tighter than the death grip he has locked around your waist. Tighter than the leash that all of them have on you.

“At least I used lube,” Spinner starts to brag, voice proud and tone haughty. As if it’s some type of accomplishment. From this new position, you’re able to eye Spinner a little better. You’re able to see everyone and everything a little better. Compared to having your face pressed into the couch. But you don’t want to see any of them. You don’t want to think of any of them. You don’t. You just don’t. “Angel-chan like it when I use her ass because I’m gentle with her. Isn’t that right, Angel-chan?”

You can’t help it. You shake your head no at Spinner’s words. Wildly, with a few whimpers here and there as your body continues to struggle against the iron-like grip Dabi has on you. But he’s too busy laughing at your complete and utter rejection. Too busy laughing at you.

“You really think a girl like her would enjoy being impaled by those monstrous things?“ A new voice enters the fray. And despite the fact that your brain is getting a little fuzzier and fuzzier as Dabi ultimately allows you to adjust to his size, you’re able to turn a half-lidded gaze to another part of the room to watch Mr. Compress approach you. With the mask on, it’s hard to tell where he’s looking. Or what he’s thinking. But for a second, you swear you manage to catch sight of a bulge from his pants. And you promise you’re that you’re not dreaming when you say that his gaze must have been watching the rise and fall of your chest so, so carefully. Taking in the slight jiggle of your boobs. The way your lips part. The way your expression clouds more and more. The way pain is starting to melt away into pleasure. “Perhaps you don’t remember her screams. I’m sure our neighbor do.”

Spinner starts getting offended at that. He shoots off a few choice words at Mr. Compress. But it’s Dabi who fires back at him. Making a big show of whatever he said by accenting with a roll of his hips. One that causes you to arch your bag and cry out- nearly fighting out of his grip. But those warm hands of his spread across your stomach. Holding you in place. Forcing you to do nothing but watch as others watch you. So that’s what you do.

First, your gaze falls back on Twice’s. He’s still in the same position you left him. Still harder than ever to read with that mask on his face. But now his head is tilted in the direction that makes his direct line of sight where you and Dabi’s bodies are joined. And his hand- the one that you guessed was previously reaching out to you? It’s now wrapped around his cock. Stroking at it lazily. Getting off to the mere sight of you. It makes your embarrassment grow even more. It makes your blood boil even hotter. At the end of the day, you can’t be stupid. At the end of the day, you have to remember that he’s just another man. That he’s just another one of your captors. Just another one who will likely be slipping his dick inside of one of your holes again in a couple of days. Maybe even a couple of hours.

But then your mind starts to wander. And your eyes start to too. And suddenly your gaze is on one of Japan’s top heroes. And it’s like all the words and noise and things around you start to fade away. Because Hawks is looking at you too. He’s watching you carefully. Drinking you in slowly. And you start to have hope that the emotion in his eyes is anger. That it’s outrage. At the sight of these men speaking about you and your body so freely. So easily. And it starts to make you hope. That your old favorite hero will live up to your beliefs. That your old favorite hero will rise from the ashes and the darkness. And that he’ll save you.

So you ask him for that. You look into his face and you think not about how handsome he is. You look into his face and think not about how warm and comforting his voice is. You just look into his face- you look into his bright, golden eyes and you ask him. You beg him to save you. To be the one who returns you to light. Who saves you from this hell. To save you from them. But then the unthinkable happens. The unexpected. The impossible.

Your hero. Your supposed savior- he looks away.

And for a second, you think you see it in his eyes. You think you see it. The guilt. But even more than that? The arousal. And the growing tent in his pants that’s almost impossible for you to ignore. Impossible for you to imagine. So you don’t ignore it. You internalize it. You think about it. You think about what his arousal means. You think about his refusal to move- to lift a finger, a feather in your direction.

You think about the way he can’t even look at you right now too.

And the tears that you were previously shedding? They start to come out a little faster than before. It’s okay though. You let them. For your sake. For your pain.

But a moment later, your view of Hawks is being disrupted. And you don’t put up much of a fight. You can’t put up much of a fight. You won’t. Because the feeling of being failed by the one person who could have saved you has already started to set in. And there’s already someone else- there’s already Mr. Compress tilting your head in another direction, putting two fingers out and telling you to “Suck, sweetheart”, as Spinner grabs a fist full of your hair and holds it up in a ponytail for you. Now, Dabi’s hards are reaching down your body. No longer holding you possessively. Instead, giving out a chance to share as he takes two fingers and parts your lower lips to give the person now standing in front of you an easier chance to slide into your awaiting little pussy. Eager as can be.

All these eyes are on you. All these hands on you. Giving you attention. Giving you pleasure. Giving you pain. Every now and then your eyes will slide to someone’s face. To read their expression. To read their bodies as they enjoy yours. Yet every single time, you’re met with the same dazed expressions. The same lust-filled eyes. The same devious smiles. Taking ownership of your body. Taking your body. Everywhere you look. Everywhere you turn. And somehow, it gets easier. It gets easier to pretend that you like it. It gets easier to tolerate. It gets easier to survive. To zone it all out. To take it all in. To moan the way they like it. To cry the way they want you to. To take it like a good girl. Like the angel you are to them.

And now, with Tomura standing in front of you, lining up his cock and pushing inside of your warm, wet pussy- reserved just for him, you swear that the feeling from before has gotten easier. In between his distracting words of praise and calls of your nickname. In between your moans and groans and gasps and whimpers and cries of pain. Of pleasure. You swear that little by little it’s gotten easier. That the stretch is more bearable. That the pain has lessened. That the tears have dried.

“Good Angel-chan,” Tomura murmurs at you while sinking himself inside you with a lewd, lewd groan of his own. You hiccup on the fingers you’re sucking on, but your body responds accordingly. It responds as it was trained to do. “Angel-pussy is the best. And it’s all mine.”

It’s the only way you can survive after all.

But try as you might, you don’t think it’ll ever go away. You don’t think it’ll ever fade either. Because he knows as much as you know. That while you’d expect it from monsters like them…

… it’s impossible to forget that even now, Hawks is using you too.

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