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emotionalmessss · 1 year

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Revenge

A/N: first time writing a Dabi x reader one-shot. I just couldn't help myself with this one, lol. No spoilers. Non-canon plot (ish).

Synopsis: after an incident at Endeavour's Agency, you attract the attention of a certain Villain.

Warnings: heavy non-con, humiliation, slight violence, slight blood, forced, angst, dabi is mean, yandere (kinda?), heat play, spit, choking. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 8.1K

You flipped through the pages of your magazine whilst you sat slumped, and cuddled into the couch in your living room apartment. Scanning over the newest headlines and styles of hero costumes while your mind floated, absentmindedly gazing off out the windows every now and then. Fuck, they really publish just about anything, don’t they? You pondered, flipping over to the next page.

‘Mt Lady Takes Down Villain! Hottest and Best Angles!’

You huffed, slamming the magazine back down onto the coffee table. The people who wrote these articles were seriously fried in the head. Despite all of the good that Heroes did, there was always someone in the background; waiting patiently to exploit and publish the most taboo garbage. Your cheek rested against your palm as you rested against the arm of the couch, thinking back to the incident that led up to your very own interview. It wasn’t unheard of for rookie Heroes to have interviews, but it was a rare occurrence. And you remember it all too well.

You sat, awkwardly perched on the plastic chair as the woman in front of you placed a recorder down, pulled out a pen and notepad, and began hammering you with questions.

“What’s it like working as a Rookie alongside the Number One Hero?”

“Was this the costume you were wearing when the incident occurred?”

“Were you scared?”

“Why are you working with Endeavor when your Quirk has nothing to do with flames?”

All of the questions overwhelmed you, and you thought that you would be prepared since Endeavor briefed you prior to the interview. But as soon as the questions came pouring out of the red lipstick lined lips of the reporter - you froze. You tried to answer all of her questions as honestly as you could, but feared that she would turn and spin them on you. It was a habit of reporters to do so, and you refused to be on the next cover of some sleazy tabloid; ‘(Hero name)! Dirty secrets that saved her from the attack on Endeavor’s Agency!’

The thought made you gag.

It was true, your Quirk had nothing to do with fire or anything of the sort, but Enji Todoroki had been a family friend for years, and you were childhood best friends with his daughter, Fuyumi Todoroki. Your Quirk was basic - Telekinesis. It was handy, and you were getting stronger with it everyday. It was useful in the battlefield, proving to be one of the strongest when you attended UA.

“Did you see Shigaraki?”

“How hot were Dabi’s flames?”

When she asked you about Dabi and Shigaraki, you froze, immediately remembering what the heat of his flames felt like, and the gnawing fear of being turned to dust at any given moment. It was horrible, and you wanted nothing more than to jump off the chair and run out of the room. You knew that would solve nothing and only fidgeted slightly at her question and narrowing eyes.

You were seated at your desk, filing paperwork from a Villian that you had caught a few days prior. Everyone spoke about the joys of being a Hero, but often neglected the tedious amount of paperwork that followed suit. Hours had passed and you were still working silently at your desk space. You hadn’t even taken your lunch break in hopes of finishing the work before Endeavor returned.

Your fingers were starting to sting in exhaustion when you heard the first scream, it was loud and shrill; a woman. Your eyes widened and before you knew it, everyone was standing and running. Flames of blue erupted up the walls as you watched everyone flee from the heat. You pushed yourself up from your desk and flushed, blocking your face with your free hand. Endeavor was sent out on a mission a few hours prior, meaning that he would be gone for the rest of the day. Most of the other sidekicks were with him, and you would’ve gone too if you weren’t stuck with this mountain of paperwork.

You remember seeing your coworkers shove and scatter their way out of the building, rushing around like frightened mice. It was sad, you thought. You wanted to act, to fight, but fear kept you frozen in place as everyone disappeared. The smoke and heat of the room made it barely breathable, but you shielded your eyes from the smoke and covered your mouth with your sleeve.

The panicked footsteps soon dwindled down, everyone already fleeing down the stairs. And there you stood, frozen in place like a rock. Thinking back on it makes you feel completely useless, but fear makes you react in such strange ways.

A large chunk of ceiling fell directly in front of you, your feet launching you out of the way before your brain realized what happened. Dust and smoke filtered into your lungs as you narrowly dodged the debris.

You began to stagger your way towards the exit, until you saw two shadows appear in the doorway. Fuck. They grew closer with each passing moment, and you threw yourself beneath a random desk, curling yourself inwards in attempts to hide yourself. Your breathing was raspy due to all the smoke inhalation, but remained silent as the footsteps echoed.

“That fucker isn’t even here.” You heard a deep rasp, sounding like he was losing his voice. You flinched when you heard the desk creek above you, turning your head slowly to notice that someone was resting against it. Luckily, the cubicle shielded you from their presence, or else you’d be screwed.

“The message will still be received.” You heard a second voice, which sounded much higher pitched than the first. “It’s only a matter of time before the Hero regimen is brought to their knees.” They snickered, high pitched and eerie.

You covered your mouth, squeezing back a cough that rumbled in your chest.

“The sooner the better.” The first voice spoke, which you now recognized as Dabi, the Blue Flame. His boots now eye level with you, with even one small move you would’ve been able to touch him.

His unprovoked murderers made headlines a few weeks earlier, and you remember reading all about them. He burned his victims beyond recognition, turning them into a pile of bones and dust. It made you sick, and you could only keep quiet and remain still. You could only guess that the second voice belonged to Shigaraki, the leader of the League Of Villains. Fuck. You really were going to die here.

“We need to get out of here before more show up.” Dabi said, pushing upright from the desk, his jacket swayed in your view. You figured that the Heroes would be pouring through the door at any second now, but you weren’t counting on it, nor were you eager to jump out from the desk.

Shigaraki mumbled something in return that you didn’t quite catch, and you heard the heavy sounds of their booted feet fade off. You weren’t entirely jumping at the thought of getting caught, so you decided to wait a few moments before regrouping with everyone else.

You let out a shaky breath, removing your hand from your dry lips.

Your eyes opened once again, blinking a few times to remove any dust or smoke stuck in them. But fuck, you really wished you hadn’t. There was a soft sound of crunching gravel that rang out beside you, instantly making your blood run cold. Your eyes darted to follow the sound and as soon as you lifted your gaze from the floor, you noticed a pair of bright blue eyes staring back into your frightened ones. You noticed that he smirked when he noticed your frightened expression, burnt lips carving upwards at your quivering form. Immediately, you let out a cry of surprise and skidded out from underneath the desk.

“Well, well. Hello there, doll.” Dabi watched you from above. At this angle, he towered over you, watching you with gleaming eyes. Even though you were flat on your ass and resting against your palms, he was enormous. “Thought I wouldn’t notice ya’ down there?” He chuckled.

You watched him with studying eyes, noting that he hadn’t made a move to grab or burn you. For some reason you expected to be killed on sight, but Dabi seemed to take interest in you. No . He was more interested in making you feel nervous - powerless even. His eyes running down your slim body, watching in excitement as you squirmed uncomfortably. You weren’t wearing your Hero uniform, which made him wonder why you hadn’t escaped like everyone else.

He laughed to himself. Poor little girl, left to die by the Heroes.

Finally, you broke eye contact from the charred man, trailing your eyes around him in search of an escape route. You didn’t know if he’d get bored soon and decide to light you up, but you certainly didn’t want to make any impulsive moves. It seems like Shigaraki left already, and you were thankful that you only had to deal with one League member.

“Are you mute or somethin’?” His head tilted to the side as he scanned you over, his patchwork face pondering in thought.

Dabi felt bored at your unresponsiveness, his smirk dropping and eyes glazing over. His hands fidgeted inside his pockets, debating on what he was going to do with you. You inched back slightly, noticing the shift in his demeanor.

Your hands raised instinctively to cover your face, expecting to feel the flash of heat and the flesh peel off your bones. But you didn’t, instead feeling a rush of air around you. Out of fear, you must’ve activated your quirk without thinking too much, because Dabi was no longer standing in front of you.

Your ears barely registered the sound of his strangled grunt as he collided with a half burnt desk. Not wasting any time pushing yourself up to your shaky feet, throwing yourself out of the cubicle and towards the exit. You didn’t even bother to look back at the scarred Villain, who was staggering back to his feet, letting out a frustrated growl at your sudden attack. You lunged for the door, throwing yourself out of it and down the flights of stairs.

Dabi coughed as dust particles surrounded him, his breathing deepening with rage as he watched your frightened figure stumble out of the room. Your little surprise move pissed him off - almost as much as the realization he had that you were a Hero.

Your head shook and you brushed off the incident that still lingered in your mind. While you were terrified, you managed to act quickly and get out safely. Endeavor praised you for this, which felt good, but you were just thankful that you didn’t turn into a pile of burnt flesh.

“For fucks sake.” You mumbled as you picked up another magazine, seeing a picture of yourself covered in dust, outfit torn in questionable places, and your hair a mess -on the cover .

‘(Hero Name)! Narrowly Escapes The Blue Flame!’

That wasn’t so bad… Maybe Endeavor threatened the poor woman into being nice. You thought, before your eyes roamed over the smaller print beneath the title.

“Find out how (Hero Name) seduced her way out of death on page six!”

You threw the magazine blindly behind you, letting out a long sigh. You should have known, these tabloids twisted the truth and made Heroes and Sidekicks look terrible. You couldn’t believe that people actually believed this shit. Luckily enough, no one was killed in the incident, but you knew that if the League wanted there to be casualties, there definitely would have been. You only escaped due to your quick thinking and Dabi’s lack of attention, which worked out in your favor.

“Fucking bitch.” You grumbled, letting your head drop onto the armrest.

You were so lost in thought that you barely heard the front door close shut, along with the soft footsteps of someone making their way inside. You didn’t move when you finally clued in, instead you called out blindly, voice muffled by the cushion of the couch.

“Really not in the mood tonight, Fuyumi!” Your voice cracked as you called out towards her, expecting her cheerful response at your dismissive tone, but all you heard was silence. The footsteps stopped, and instead of the soft voice of your best friend, you heard a short chuckle.

“Not enjoying the Hero life, doll?”

Letting out a surprised squeak, you jolted upright at the raspy voice, eyes widening and darting towards the rough sound. To say that it surprised you would be an understatement - it terrified you and made you freeze immediately, similar to how you were at the Agency. It frightened you even more when you watched his lazy eyes trail over your form, which was wearing nothing but a pair of PJ shorts and an ill-fitting tank top.

Almost as if he could sense the urgency that flowed in your veins, telling you to run - he took a step closer to you, studying your reactions. So many questions ran through your brain, how did he get in? Why was he here? But you decided to refrain from hammering questions out, instead shifting your focus to distracting him like you had previously done.

“Why are you here?” You decided this was a decently safe question, turning yourself to fully face the scarred man as your eyes drifted to the front door for a brief moment. It was closed again, and if you were to try and run past him, you’d risk being fried to a crisp. If you were smart about this, then you’d be able to-

“Go ahead and try it.” He interrupted your thoughts, pulling your attention back to his lopsided grin, which looked menacing as it tugged on his staples. “I can promise that ya’ won’t make it very far.” His hand extended, lighting up a small blue flame at the tips of his fingers.

Dabi watched as you looked up at him: your big eyes widened, eyebrows furrowed, and full lips parted open. Fuck. He wanted to pounce on you right then and there, but decided to restrain himself. He needed to take his time with this, since his last interaction with you resulted in him being thrown off guard and flat on his ass. He didn’t even think that you had a Quirk - assuming that you were just some mousy little secretary. Until he was shot back from your cowering form, landing hard on a pile of burnt and broken desks. It surprised him, but it also pissed him off. You lingered in the back of his head for days after, which only pissed him off more. He knew that he could melt the pretty skin right off your bones, but for once, he didn’t want to. He wanted to savor this. He was prepared this time, and he wasn’t going to let you escape from him again. No. Not this time.

The look on Dabi’s face made you squirm, itching to get away from his gaze. He lazily glanced over at his flame before closing his fist. His hand reached down and into the pocket of his oversized coat, searching for something you couldn’t see.

You can sense the threatening turn that this was about to take, and on instinct, you pushed your hands out, trying to activate your Quirk. Anything to get him away from you. But he was quicker and stronger, even without his quirk.

He knew that you were going to try and pull the same stunt, but unlike last time, he was prepared for it. In less than a second, Dabi launched himself forward, catching you off guard with his speed.

“Heh. That’s not going to work this time, doll.” Dabi launched himself forward with a sound that could only be compared to a growl of a hungry animal. He grabbed your wrists with one hand, pinning them against your lap in a matter of seconds, leering over you. His one knee was sandwiched between your thighs, while his foot was still placed on the ground, using it to balance himself over you.

You let out a sharp cry as he pulled out what looked like a syringe from his jacket. Instantly, your eyes widened and you fought in his hold, twisting and squirming. Your lungs fought for air at the sight of the needle, igniting your flight or fight response.

“Don’t fight me. It’s a pain in the ass.” He rasped, seemingly unfazed by your weak attempts to push him off. You were no match for him, but he wanted to scare you a little, so he heated up his palms slightly, warning you to stop.

The heat rushed from your wrists and all the way up to your cheeks, flushing you into stilling.

“What are you doing!” You cried out.

“Can’t have you ruining my plans with that annoying quirk of yours.” He grumbled before plunging the needle into your bicep. The pain was jolting, but the feeling of your quirk leaving your body was much worse. You had grown familiar with the constant sense of your quirk lingering in your veins, and now that it was gone, you were terrified. Was it going to come back?

“I- What!” Your eyes met his, which had deep bag-like scars under them, held in place by makeshift staples. His eyes were bright and blue, but looked as if they never opened quite fully. Scars seemed to liter his entire body, only small portions of his actual skin poked through. He can’t handle his quirk, you thought.

Dabi felt a shiver of pleasure run down his spine when you looked over his patch-work face, knowing immediately that the sight of him made you uncomfortable. He was used to people shriveling up in disgust at his face, it was nothing new. But this was different. He felt a sense of heat rush all over his body at your confused face, instead of the usual annoyance.

“Enjoying the view?” He teased, shattering the silence around you two.

You cringed back in displeasure, the smell of him overwhelming you now. Smoke and burnt flesh singing the hair in your nose.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” You managed to calm your nerves slightly, but not by much. Dabi was still leaning over you, making you curl up against the back of the armrest. You didn’t like being caged in like this, and you most definitely didn’t like how he peered down at you.

“Your cooperation would be nice, but either way, I’m going to enjoy this.” Dabi answered your question without actually giving you a clear response. The sense of danger only amplified when you watched his lips curl upwards in a manic like smile. You were sure that his staples would have popped out if he opened his mouth any more. You could see them visibly strain, struggling to keep the healthy skin connected to the scarred tissue.

“Is this because of what happened at the Agency?” You asked, breathlessly moving your attention from his scars to his eyes again. You didn’t want to piss him off more by staring too long at them. Dabi wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were staring at his scars, but could care less. He was used to people staring at him with disgust, and he grew numb to it.

Dabi let out a scoff. “You’re smarter than you look.”

“Why? I was just-”

Dabi leered closer to you, making you flinch and stop talking. “Just being an annoying brat? Thinking that you’re better than me because you’re a Hero?” He spat the word out like it disgusted him to even think, let alone speak it.

Granted, you knew subconsciously that you were better than a murdering psychopath, but decided it would get you nowhere good if you fought that. You weren’t too keen on the idea of dying prematurely, especially by his flames or whatever else he had in store for you.

“What was I supposed to do?” You asked, brows furrowing in annoyance. “Sit back and take it?” You regretted the words as soon as you said them, watching as Dabi smirked down at you with a borderline lustful gaze. “I didn’t want to die. My body reacted on impulse, that's it.” You quickly corrected yourself.

You thought you could buy yourself some time by asking him questions, maybe even distracting him so that you could escape. You knew he was unhinged and wondered if there was a way to use that to your advantage.

“Why does it matter? You burned down half of the Agency and the League still made the cover of every newspaper in Japan.” You found yourself getting angry at the reminder. “You’re lucky that Endeavor wasn’t there. You would’ve been-” Your voice morphed into a scream as soon as you mentioned the Flame Hero. The sudden searing heat of his hands make your back arch up and into the Villain, chest brushing against his stapled flesh. He was barely using his quirk, but even the small amount made your skin singe.

“You think that flaming pile of shit scares me?” Dabi sneered at you, bringing his face level to yours. You stilled when Dabi pressed himself tighter against you, his nose only inches from your own. You realized that you had either struck a nerve by mentioning Endeavor, or that he just really hated Heroes that much. You had assumed the latter, but could tell there was more to it by his reaction. Dabi’s eyes were filled with rage, but the rage wasn’t all directed at you.

“He’s just another empty Hero that the world praises for nothing. It’s only a matter of time before he’s ripped off that pedestal.” You flinched back at his words, knowing that there was definitely some sort of vendetta between the two flame users.

As scared as you were, you still felt somewhat angered by the Villains words. Endeavor had been nothing but kind to you, seemingly taking you under his wing when you joined his Agency. It was either your pride that made you say the next words, or your own naivety. You didn’t know which one it was.

“Endeavor is twice the man you’ll ever be.”

You watched as Dabi’s turquoise eyes narrowed, meeting them as yours widened at his furious expression. If his flames weren’t hot enough, his stare sure was. Dabi’s eyes were blazing with fury, seemingly darkening from their usual brightness. He watched you carefully, weighing his next options. He realized that you were just as surprised at your words as he was, your eyes widening for a moment before glossing over in attempts to hide it. Cute. He could feel you quivering beneath him, fearing what he would do next.

Despite the swell of pride you felt for a brief moment, you could quickly feel the overwhelming sense of anxiety push forward. Fuck. At this point, you didn’t really care what happened to you. All you wanted was to get away from his terrifying presence.

Dabi let his guard down for a mere second, maybe even less, and you immediately took advantage of it. Your wrists twisted apart and out of Dabi’s grip, freeing you for a moment from his suffocating grip. Your next move was on instinct; you ball up your fist before winding it back and sending it crashing into his nose.

Blood immediately gushed from Dabi’s nose, running down his mismatched lips and down his neck. He staggered backwards from the force of your punch, letting out a guttural growl as he wiped the sticky liquid away.

Again, you wasted no time in throwing yourself over the back of the couch, landing on all fours and scrambling towards the front door. You pumped your shaky legs as fast as they could handle, stumbling as you ran for freedom. You were nearing the kitchen when a blast of sudden heat licked up the back of your thighs, making you shriek in agony and crumple to the hardwood. Your body sprawled out on the cool ground, which was a stark contrast to your clammy and sizzling skin.

You glanced down at your awkwardly bent legs, seeing the skin begin to redden and sizzle. It wasn’t a fatal burn, but it was one you’d surely remember since the blisters would definitely scar. The pain was too much and you squeezed your eyes shut, sobbing as you still tried to drag yourself away.

Dabi followed behind you, taking his time as he watched your pathetic attempts at crawling away. He wanted you to have your little moment of hope, afterall, you were going to wish that you were dead after he was done with you.

He took his time stalking towards you, his rubber soles thudding against the flooring - purposely being slow to hammer more fear into you. He watched your body shake violently from his attack, your face contorting up in anguish as you tried to push yourself up. Dabi could feel himself getting hard as he approached your struggling form. He felt mildly proud, considering you had him in a similar position not too long ago.

Smiling wickedly, he planted his booted foot on your back and shoved you back down to the ground. “You can’t run from me.”

Your chin met the floor with a sickening crack, eliciting another wave of pleasure down Dabi’s spine at your pained groan. Your body wavered as you felt a droplet of something wet and sticky hit your cheek, directly beneath your eyes.

“You broke my fucking nose, doll. You’re lucky to still be breathin’ after that.” Dabi chucked, wiping the remnants of his blood from his nose. He relished in your look of disgust when his blood hit your face, seeing the humiliation build up across your pretty face.

Shakily, you wiped his blood from your face, cringing as he stared back at you. Your teeth gritted together so hard that you thought they’d shatter if any more pressure were applied. Everything was too much; the throbbing in your legs, your quirk being suppressed, Dabi’s taunting gaze, everything. Hatred mixed with hot rage seeped into your blood, making your body vibrate with adrenaline.

“Weak flames compared to Endeavor.” You hissed roughly, large eyes glaring up at him in spite.

Dabi ignored the rage that traveled up his body at your words, knowing that you were doing this just to piss him off. Stupid little Hero. You were powerless, weak, and humiliated, but still fought with a sense of pride. He was going to break down that pride of yours, no matter what. He thought as he bent down, fingers lacing through your tousled hair and jerking your face towards his. If you thought pissing him off was going to save you, you were very wrong. Your words only solidified what he was about to do next.

“Let go of me!” Dabi used your hair as leverage to get you onto your knees, pulling another shocked cry as your hands shot up to your scalp. The stinging of your thighs amplified in this position, and you awkwardly balanced to lessen the pain.

“I think I have a better use for that mouth of yours.” Dabi’s hand jolted you forwards before releasing your scalp. You hadn’t realized how much you were relying on his grip to keep you steady, because your knees suddenly wobbled and you fell face-first into the bulge of his jeans, letting out a strangled moan as you did.

Dabi let out a low groan at the feeling of your face pressing into the tent of his jeans. Your hands pressed into his thighs to push yourself upright as your face scrunched up in disgust at the sudden contact. Dabi shuddered while he watched you try and pull away, only to find yourself pressed into his groin again when his hands pulled you back.

You gasped in shock, not expecting the force of his hand to smush you back into his crotch. The tip of your nose dug into his length, feeling it twitch slightly at the contact. You mewled, senses overwhelmed at the feeling.

There was something about the way your eyes squinted and you recoiled back in disgust that drove him mad. A weak little Hero like you needed to learn your place, and what better way would you learn than at the knees of a Villain like him? He wanted to humiliate you in the worst way possible, just like you did with him.

“Oh come on, doll. Don’t tell me a Hero slut like you never sucked cock before?” He snickered down at you.

You scowled at him in return, peeling yourself away from his crotch to look up at him with reddening cheeks. Try as you might, you couldn’t hide the blush that stung at your pale skin.

“Awe. You’re getting shy on me now, dollface? Where’d that spunk go?” Dabi released your hair, fiddling with his belt before pulling out his cock. It sprung out and nearly smacked you in the cheek, narrowly missing as you turned your head away.

“Get the fuck away from me, patchwork!” You hissed, craning your neck up to look him in the eyes.

Dabi watched you with half-lidded eyes, jutting his hips outwards to smack you in the face with his cock. “I’m gonna make sure to force that attitude out of you.” The tip of his dick pressed against your lips, smearing a trail of salty precum all over.

It was long and thick, bigger than any other you’ve seen. You didn’t want Dabi to think that you were taken back by it, so you kept your face as blank as you could in this position. Your lips pressed tightly in a thin line, refusing entrance.

At your reluctance, Dabi tapped his foot against the ground and tilted your jaw up with a single finger. “Open up or I’ll burn you again.”

You frowned, swallowing hard before parting your lips for him. Dabi’s eyes wandered across your face, noting how good you looked with your beady eyes and mouth wide open for him.

You didn’t have much time to think, because Dabi jerked his hips, his cock grazing against your teeth as he hit the back of your throat.

You gagged instantly, fresh tears pooling at your lash line as you tried to relax your throat.

“Shit.” He rasped, head tilting back at the feeling of your throat constricting around him.

You could feel him twitch against the back of your throat, making you gag once again. The tip of your nose flat against his pubic bone, sucking in as much air as you could handle in this position. Your muffled mewls sent Dabi into a frenzy, who gave you no time to adjust before he started to buck his hips. Your hands flew up to his thighs, grounding yourself as you tried not to throw up.

“Damn. You’re shaking around my cock, you must really be scared, huh?” Dabi rasped above you, his voice dropping a few decibels at the sight of your teary eyes.

You choked in response, trailing your tongue along his length. He didn’t necessarily taste bad, but the lingering sweat and precum tasted salty on your buds. With your mouth stuffed completely, you couldn’t hold back the drool that spilled out and down your chin.

“That’s it. I knew there was something useful for that mouth of yours.” Dabi brushed the hair out of your eyes, side eyeing you as you groaned around him. The vibrations shot up through your throat, sending a wave of pleasure around him.

You quickly tore your gaze away from his, focusing on the scarred skin of his stomach instead. You hated this and you would’ve bit him if you weren’t so frightened of the repercussions that would’ve certainly followed.

Dabi watched you with lazy eyes, peering down at you with a look that could only be compared to a predator stalking its prey. With each thrust of his hips he felt your throat clench around him, wet noises mixing in sync with your terrified sobs. You were a beautiful sight, even with your mascara running down your cheeks and snot coming out of your nose. He hated to admit it, but he had to focus hard on not shooting his load down your tight little throat.

“There’s no need to be shy.” He rasped, breathlessly before pulling himself out with a plop. A thick trail of spit connected your lips and the tip of his cock. You gulped back air and sputtered, furiously wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Dabi smirked as you fell back onto your ass with a hiss. He knew you were probably thinking that he would let you go now, or at least praying for it. Silly girl. He wasn’t nearly finished with you.

He bent down to your level, stuffing himself back into his pants. You were angry and disgusted, the light in your eyes darkening when you met his gaze. The instinct to run was back again, and you were fighting against your natural nervous system's desire to flee.

It was endearing Dabi thought, but futile. Your eyes darting to the door for a moment gave your intentions away. He made quick work to grab you before you could even blink, letting out a deep chuckle at your surprised reaction.

His hands wrapped around your hips and hoisted you over his shoulder. You gasped at the sudden movement, laying uncomfortably across his shoulder as he moved towards what you would guess was your bedroom.

“You got what you wanted! Leave now!” Your naivety was cute, almost entertaining in a sick sense. You knew deep down that he hadn’t gotten his fill. Villains were greedy after all and he wanted everything you had to offer.

You bucked against him, only earning a quick slap of your thighs in response. Dabi stalked into your bedroom, opening the door and throwing you down onto the mattress. You bounced slightly and curled up into the headboard, while he peeled back his jacket and shirt at the edge of your bed. You could barely see him in the darkness, his face staples barely reflecting the moonlight that peaked through the curtains.

“Please. Please don’t do this. I- I don’t want this.” Your lower lip quivered and you felt embarrassed to be begging him. You were supposed to be a Hero; brave and strong until the very end. But watching Dabi strip in front of you made your bravery shrivel up and shred into a million pieces.

“That’s too bad, doll. I want this, so I’m going to take this.” Dabi grabbed ahold of your ankle, tearing you away from the headboard and flat onto your back. You kicked your other leg, trying to hit the side of his head with your heel. Dabi expected this, catching your other ankle and pinning it down. Your legs were spread open, leaving room for him to rest between.

He crawled up to your level, watching carefully as you turned your head to the side to avoid looking at his hideous face. “You’re not going anywhere this time.” He hummed, breathing into your neck as you tried to buck him off.

His lips were rough against the soft skin of your neck, working down to nip where your neck met your shoulders. You tried to distance yourself from the moisture of his mouth, but his body kept you trapped. You bit on your lip at the feeling, which sent tingles all the way to your toes.

“Stop. Get off!”

Dabi’s hand traveled down to the hem of your shorts, toying with the thin material before ripping them off in a shift motion. Your panties followed suit, exposing your core to the cool air. Instead of throwing your panties on the ground with your pants, he brought the material up to his nose before sniffing. His eyes closed and he let out a deep sigh at your scent, like it was the best thing he had ever smelt. Your jaw dropped in a mix of shock and pure repulsion. You kicked and slammed your fists against his chest, but your efforts were fruitless.

“You can fight me all you want, but I’m the only one with the real power here.” He pulled away from your neck to look into your tearful eyes, lowering himself slowly between your legs again. “Remember that the next time you parade yourself around the press.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, draping one up and over his shoulder. The cool metal of his staples skimmed across your flesh, his hands keeping you planted in place.

“What are - no!” Your mind raced as you tried to scoot back from his head, which rested between your legs.

Your breathing stunted as you shook your head adamantly, your palms pressed flat at your sides as you tried to resist. His hands stopped you before you got anywhere, keeping you pinned to the mattress while he dropped his head lower, watching you with slitted eyes.

“It’s only fair that I return the favor, doll.” You were about to cry out, but quickly clamped your mouth shut when you felt his breath against your weeping cunt. The thought of accidentally moaning or gasping at his head buried against you was enough to scare you into biting your tongue.

Dabi’s bright eyes shifted from your chest, which rose and fell quickly, and down to your cunt. His fingers dipped down to spread you further apart, blowing softly on the glistening skin. He could feel his erection press tightly against his pants, but knew that he needed to take his time. You were going to regret ever standing up from that desk at the Agency. He was going to make sure of it.

He licked his lips, giving you no time to protest as he rubbed his nose from your little hole to your clit. Your thighs tensed around his shoulder, digging your heel into his back. He grinned, watching as your hands tangled into the sheets. Sensitive. He barely even started.

You suddenly felt his tongue, which was unnaturally hot just like the rest of him. He lapped at your hole, gathering the slick that quickly bloomed and dragging it up and towards your clit. The wet muscle circled around a few times, hitting every sensitive spot he could find. Your hands gripped the sheets in attempts of grounding yourself, but it did little in blocking out the wet sounds that reached your ears.

There was nothing you could do to stop him when his finger slid into you, meeting little resistance at your sopping hole. Your back arched, the sound of his tongue licking and sucking at your clit sending your brain into a frenzy. The noises were lewd and exaggerated, giving you no mind to picture yourself elsewhere. Anywhere but here. You thought.

“Nuh!” Your hand slapped over your mouth when the moan slipped out, realizing the mistake you made immediately.

Dabi paused to glance up at you, watching you with a crooked gaze. Your terrified pupils were blown wide, lips curling back in disgust. He continued to watch you when he curled his finger, pressing directly into that spongy spot of your walls. Another mewl rumbled in your throat and you tossed your head into the sheets.

“Not so tough now, eh? And here I thought you’d have a little more fight in ya’, but you’re too busy soaking my face.” He cooed, which only made his voice sound even more raspy.

He pulled his finger out slowly, savoring in the way you gushed and clamped down on it, almost like your cunt knew that it needed to be filled. He pushed it back in, curling upwards before repeating the same motions. Over and over, he twisted and pulled his fingers, pumping them in and out.

You moaned louder this time, clenching your thighs around his head and arching your chest. The back of your mind screamed in protest, begging for the assault to stop. Your limbs felt like mush, unable to do much except squirm.

“Right there? Is that it?”

He repeated the movement a few more times as his mouth latched back onto your throbbing clit. Dabi could feel your resolve dwindle away with each passing stroke of his tongue, seeing your fists loosen and lips part open in pleasure. Your reactions spurred him on, knowing that you were close to cumming.

His cock strained behind the confinements of his jeans, still rock hard from earlier. It was pure anguish, but he knew what needed to be done. He would only have to wait a little longer… Just a little.

“Oh my.” You whimpered.

Dabi’s tongue swirled as his finger pumped in and out of you, sending you over the edge with a final cry. Your cunt gushed over his face, taking both you and him by surprise when the clear liquid squirted out suddenly. You could feel yourself clenching down on his finger, squeezing the appendage tightly as you squealed.

Dabi licked up everything he could, giving your clit one last flick as he lifted himself from your dripping heat. “Fuck doll, I didn’t think you’d take that so literal.” He wiped his face with his hands, smiling down at you.

You blushed furiously as your slick ran down his cheeks and jaw. You didn’t know which was worse, the fact that you had squirted all over him or that you had never done that before. You felt rage that he forced you to orgasm, let alone from his disgusting mouth .

Your body relented, heavy breaths leaving your cracked lips. You had been so lost in your head that you never realized Dabi lining his cock up with your hole. “No! Get off of me!” Your hands slammed into his chest, pushing against his scars.

“Relax, waterworks.” He taunted, shooting you a singular glare before pinning your wrists above your head.

Despite the slick that stuck against your thighs and ass, you knew that his cock was going to stretch you to the max. Your eyebrows shooting up when you felt him run it along your folds, gathering your arousal before prodding at your hole.

“Dabi! Just give me a sec-” Your breathing hitched when he slammed into you, eyes wide and unseeing as your head flew back into the bed. Your throat let out another piercing shriek at the sudden intrusion. The sheer size of him made your insides burn up, sending a painful twist inside your gut.

“Fuck.” He grunted. “Should’ve bent you over the desk when I first saw ya’, didn’t realize you’d be this tight.” Dabi’s eyes rolled back as he closed them, savoring the feeling of your tight, wet heat that clamped on him like a vice.

You cringed back, shutting your eyes and grinding your teeth.

Dabi rolled his hips, focusing on stuffing you full. You hissed, feeling his cock brush against your cervix. Despite the searing pain, your body was growing accustomed to his size. You could hear the faintest sound of your slick pussy squishing around him.

“Oh fuck. You’re suffocating.” Dabi bent down towards you, focusing his attack on your lips. You realized this and at the last second, turned your head away. He didn’t mind, instead focusing on peppering kisses and licks on your cheek and neck.

Tears welled up in your eyes when you felt his tongue lick at your cheek. You twisted your body, trashing in his hold in attempts to throw him off. This barely fazed him, only making him heat up his palms to get you to still.

“What would your Hero friends say if they saw you now, doll? Pinned under a Villain; squirming and cumming all over me?” Dabi teased, dropping his pelvis onto yours to hit deeper.

Your jaw slacked open at the new angle. A sudden burst of pleasure traveling up your cunt and to your head. In response, your jaw dropped to let out a low-whiny moan. You wanted to scream at him, but couldn’t find the courage to speak. You felt powerless in the situation, hiccuping and moaning as he drilled into you.

“There it is. Feels good doesn’t it?”

“Fuck. Dabi- ” He shuddered when you moaned his name, feeling his core tighten at the soft whimpering of your voice. Your brows furrowed, desperately trying to fight the feelings that he was delivering with each stroke of his cock.

“Shit. Look at you, doll. Such a pretty sight.” Dabi felt the weight of the world lift from his shoulders when his cock bottomed out inside you. Your tight gummy walls were sucking him in, squeezing him to a point that was almost painful. He never realized that you’d be this much of a slut; so easy and wet, begging to be taken.

Your eyes rolled back. You were so close, and you knew that you weren’t going to last much longer. You just wanted to focus on the pleasure, not the person that was delivering it to you. He knew instantly what you were trying to do; dropping your wrists and grabbing ahold on your peaked nipple. He gave it a sharp twist, drawing out a sharp cry as he tugged on the hardened bud.

“Stay with me.” Your hands flew to his shoulders, steadying yourself with his forceful pace. The pads of your fingers traced along his staples before quickly retreating.

Dabi chuckled, “You can touch them, they don’t hurt.” He moved your arms back over his shoulders, planting them against the textured skin. You whined and shuddered at the feeling of his skin. Every one of your senses were at their max, so sensitive and alert.

“D-dabi!” You mewled like a kitten, dragging your nails down his back when his fingers began to assault your clit again.

“Ah- would you look at that?” Dabi hovered his hand in front of your face, scissoring his index and middle finger to show you the slick that connected the two digits.

If you weren’t so wound up in the sensation of his cock dragging up and down your walls you would’ve hit him. You only squinted at him, earning a dark chuckle that reverberated against your chest.

The familiarity of tightness coiled back in your gut, snapping immediately when you saw him lick his fingers clean. The crudeness of his action sent your body over the edge and made you scream out. Your walls fluttered, causing him to drop his hand next to your head for support as his body twitched.

“There you go.” He hissed.

You were glad that your orgasm made your eyes roll back, because the look on Dabi’s face would have humiliated you more. He grinned manically, his smile stretching wide enough for him to feel his staples strain to hold the skin together. Your tongue lolling out and drool dribbling down the sides of your jaw was enough to make him peak.

Your body continued to convulse as he painted your walls white, his cum burning your insides as he filled you.

“Oh god.” You wanted to protest, but couldn’t.

“Fuck!” He moaned loud, slowing his pace before pulling out.

You twitched at the loss of contact, head tilting to rest on the bed as your arms fell from his shoulders. The feeling of his cum slipping out of your abused hole made you tingle, bringing your knees up to curl into a ball.

“You got what you wanted, now leave.” You managed to whisper, not looking in his direction as he wiped his dick on the sheets of your bed before tucking himself back into his pants.

His belt clicked as he tightened it back up. “What I wanted eh? Weren’t you the one who came twice? I don’t think we're even just yet, doll.” Dabi closed in on you, dropping beside you and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull your back against his chest.

You let him guide your exhausted body into his heated one, realizing that there was no point in fighting in your current condition. “We’re just getting started.” He cooed into your ear, nose burying into your matted locks.

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chiquilines · 13 days

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Ochako my relatable academically exhausted queen

#back at the uni AUs #for anyone who cant read my chicken scratch #toga: do you think i should get her a muffin #dabi: your courship rituals are beyond me #toga doesnt work in fast food now sorry i like my coffeeshops too much </3 #also dabi is togas coworker slash older brother in spirit #i cannot express how much i love the dabi-toga dysfunctional sibling dynamic #hes so done with togas crush but also sneakily pays for the muffins she 'donates' to the ochako cause #ochako would appreciate the muffins more if she wasnt entirely out of it every time she gets one #yes this was prompted by my finally catching a break from exams #felt like ochako this morning #not a good time #i just love the idea of toga giving her lil treats and leaving hearts on receipts and ochako reacting with 😴#sillies #toga himiko #ochako uraraka #togachako #toga x uraraka #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #wlw #chiquilines draws

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theloveinc · 3 months

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if i didn't care (more than words can say) - a dabi / touya todoroki x reader fanfiction—NO QUIRK!college-ish!AU

wc: 7.3k — my longest to date :')

sum: a beautiful but notorious shadow keeps following you home. over the course of some weeks, you eventually get to know him.

a/n: more than anything, this is really just a huge ode to my hatred of graduate school, though since the start of writing this, i admit it has gotten a lot better—hence there being a mixture of characters and ocs included. i don't think i was able to nail this exactly the way i envisioned, in clarity and thematically (and it's wordy as all hell)... but i am still delighted by this concept. i hope it tickles you, as well!

a MAJOR thank you to my beloved @weird-dere-writes for beta-ing this! twyla is a a real one whom i adore like the shining sun.

warning: lighthearted in spirit but DARK CONTENT! features stalking, physical assault and mentions of sexual assault, miscommunication, suicidal ideation, talk of death, gore + general sense of unhappiness/unease. gender neutral but some of the pet names include: pretty, sweetheart, lollipop, cookie, hon, baby + etc., also I think you might have a purse?, HAPPY END!

(read on ao3 - coming soon!)

title credit goes to the ink spots.

enjoy!

The sun has just barely set by the time you leave your final class of the day. Fog seeps from over the distant hills that surround your city, subway tracks murmur from underneath the thick concrete, and car high beams yellow in the fading light of the sun and slate blue sky.

Your classmates—those who have all left the lecture hall before you to give each other rides home—laugh, their voices echoing throughout the campus plaza as they disperse; the last students of the night to begin their trek home, down the hill that is your campus, and far, far away from you.

You don’t mind.

…or you tell yourself, at least.

Your walk home is pleasant enough, not so close that it doesn’t feel like a trip worth making, not so far that it feels like you’re a freshman again, tearing out of class just to run to catch the bus in time. It’s the perfect temperature where walking is comfortable, and if timing allows, you’ll get to enjoy the sunset as you go. Maybe today you’ll see the funny looking tuxedo cat that stares at you sometimes from the ground floor apartment window of one of your neighbors; you only recently found out that they have a little tortoiseshell, too.

Besides, while it’s not as though you enjoy your time alone any more than you enjoy anything else in life, home has become a sort of sanctuary, the trip to-and-from, a ritual, from school and the tension that sears your nerves on a daily basis. You still can’t help but wonder why it is that you’re only ever regarded by other students with hateful looks or by plain being ignored, sitting in the front corner of every classroom, freezing from both the weather's cooling breeze and the fact everyone just happened to ice you out by sitting in the back.

It's no surprise that nor can you ignore it, either.

For as much as you try, which is almost as often as you open your eyes in the morning, you simply haven’t succeeded. Hence why, with the cold air nipping at your cheeks and your fingers numbing from a chill you know will only get worse the longer you stay outside… you suppose you should finally start heading back, too.

You notice them first when you stop to adjust a faulty earbud.

A figure behind you that stops. Waits. Lingers. More than a block away, under the newly darkened sky and opaque clouds. A street light illuminates their body as they appear to dawdle; awkwardly hovering about a pole, staring at something you don’t see on the ground, trotting a couple steps, and then looking up at the sky.

You glance at them, the way one glances, with one hand pressed to your ear, the other gripping the strap of your bag tightly as you turn your head ever so slightly to look out of the corner of your eye and pray the movement isn’t noticed.

The figure, of course, freezes–like it’s not obvious, like it’s possible you won’t pick up on the sudden shift from dance to pause, autonomous to marionette, breath to stone. You can’t make out much about them aside from their long, dark clothing as their face is hidden by dark glasses and a hood, but when your stomach knots with something sour, nerves that twist and scream, you know nothing good will come from standing around and waiting to find out anything more.

You let your eyes shift back to the paved street in front of you slowly, as if you just found yourself caught up in the frustration of skippy music. Then, you start walking again, hoping it was all just some coincidence, illusion, pretending that if you were to look back, the figure would have since simply turned the corner and left you behind, like most people almost always seem to do.

But you look again. Peek, from the corner of your eye, briefly, like you normally would when no one is there and you just want to make sure… but this time, someone is, and by the time you really catch sight of them (closer now, like they were walking fast, jogging maybe, red light, green light), you don’t want to draw any more attention to yourself and turn back before you can make things any worse.

Your heart beats. Your breath shudders. You flex your fingers where they’re held, stiff with terror, wondering: is this really happening? What should I do? Am I crazy?

It’s five more blocks until your house. Three stop signs, then two traffic lights. One liquor store, and an empty cafe that has already closed for the day, filled with stacked chairs and little mice you sometimes catch scuttling by the edge of the curb. You live by a school, but since it’s already dark, there will maybe be a total of four cars that pass you by. Maybe. Then there’s a trek up a short hill before you finally reach your street.

You wonder, not once slowing your step, if this is something you need to be worried about, if you’re really being stalked like you’ve always been warned of before, if anyone would even care if you didn’t show up to class tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that… and then, despite the whisper of your unconscious telling you not to be so self-involved, no one wants you, anyway, you increase your step. You want to look back, confirm what you think is happening, face a fight you don’t think is fair but haven’t yet decided whether or not you want to win.

But you don’t, thinking you can almost hear their footsteps now, though maybe you’re just confusing them for the wild thump, thump, thump of your heart and the catches of your breath. And when you check back, they’re half a block away but feel closer than ever, eyes on you and hands halfway around your throat though they’re still hidden deep in their pockets.

You feel a little like hurling, a bit more like giving up and letting them have you (though you’ve only ever written a suicide note, never a will)... but the creature of fear in you ends up prevailing, throwing it’s tentacles up through your gullet into your brain and dragging you into the depths… just as you say a prayer for the first, or any, god willing to listen.

And then you start running.

Heft your bag over your shoulder, suck in an icy breath and charge forward into the night, past the three stop signs and through the red of each stop light that blares at you, really the only thing that seems to acknowledge you as you refuse to waste any time looking back.

Self preservation is one hell of a drug, you only manage to briefly think in between gulps of air, your cheeks stinging with the breeze and your feet beginning to grate and blister against the friction of shoes that aren’t meant for running. You figure at this point you’re more likely to trip and crack your skull open on the pavement than be caught and dragged away by some freak with a violent agenda. Would that really be so bad?

But your answer quickly arrives in the form of making it home and climbing the stairs so fast you manage to forget the thought entirely, along with most of the rest of the world aside from the few people you come up with (and proceed to scratch out) when determining who, if there's anyone, you can call for help.

It's inside, silent and alone in the dark, you try to process what just occurred for so long that eventually your roommate comes home from their shift at the bar. It’s only at their surprise from seeing you still awake (ghostlike, on the couch) that you realize hours have passed in the span of what felt like only seconds, minutes, the metronome of a few steps home–and that you hadn’t actually processed anything at all.

You go to bed that night, not having eaten but not hungry, still feeling the phantom sensations of your bounding footsteps on hard concrete, cold sweat sliding down the slant of your neck, and the feeling of a man just inches from your putting his hands on your back.

The next day during lecture, you are awoken from a hazy daydream by a notification on your phone.

Campus Creeper Found Passed Out in Uni Plaza.

You blink, exhausted after an adrenaline crash made worse by your night of haunted sleep, eventual overheating, and your roommate taking a shower at four am. You were happy to even drag yourself out of bed this morning and make coffee just tolerable enough not to spit out all over your kitchen floors.

Local man, you read after clicking, deemed the “campus creeper,” was found passed out on the Student Union steps early this morning. Identified by a member of student patrol at Mustafu University, the man’s name has yet to be released to the public as it appeared he was suffering from a number of wounds, mostly external.

Despite condition, students have taken to social media to express their relief, as the man has reportedly been following students—

You stop reading, having hardly even processed the words, really, as you try to shake off the fog that keeps you from really understanding what the words are telling you.

A tightness settles in your stomach, heavy and painful with a nausea you can’t shake, a question you don’t yet realize: is this the same person, same man, who scared you half to death last night by trailing you all the way home? It’s unclear from the article, the timing, the picture with his blurred out features… and the fact that he must've been dragged all the way back up to school because he was found nowhere near your home.

While you assume you’ll be more excited once the new sinks in and the nerves turn to consolation (and the person to your left stops chattering into the ear of the person sat behind you), you can’t help but shoot to your feet and run to the closest bathroom in a panic, trying not to hyperventilate looking at yourself in the mirror in between splashing water on your face.

The day has once again fallen into night. Your bag is heavy with the weight of books and pens and your schedule notepad that has all your plans for the rest of the week and even the month beyond that. Today, however, the clouds don’t creep and instead, you see stars, maybe only a handful or so, one airplane too, as the sun descends in a tender calm and the windchill greets your cheeks once more.

You walk, out of class and down the ancient steps of the building, start descending the hill down to the first busy intersection of streetlights where the president of your school was once hit by a car.

It’s not three blocks into the way home, however, that a shadow appears once more. Distantly, though you’re sure it’s calculated enough so as not to ring as intentional no matter how much you know it is, and can feel it in your bones.

You thought he had been caught. The creeper.

You hadn’t realized you were so relieved by the thought. It slipped your mind, the celebration over as quick as it started under the weight of all your schoolwork and the dirty looks your classmates sent you after you came back from dry heaving into the bathroom sink. Maybe it was a different guy they caught, you wonder, then kick yourself for being so naive as to think that maybe you’d been spared.

Of course not, you think. It’s never that easy, is it?

Panic once again bubbles up in your throat, anxiety pooling in your stomach like something hot melting through stone, and tears start to sting at the center of your eyes. You do your best to ward away the urge to collapse, instead trying to focus on the fact that everything was fine yesterday and tonight’s just another dream you’ll wake up from again tomorrow…though by now you know it’s not.

It is easier, this time, however, to begin to run, to bounce on your feet with a purpose you hope isn’t any more transparent than your fear. You’re happy that today you managed to pack light, skipped filling up your water bottle, and happened to put on your sneakers instead of your slip-ons, as if you didn’t spend half of your entire morning trying to convince yourself that potentially saving your own life was a good thing.

By the time you make it to the door, chest heaving with a wheezing heat as your hand shakes the key into the padlock, when you turn back to look one final time before ducking inside, still gasping for air, the shadow is no longer behind you.

The creeper is getting braver, you notice.

It has been weeks since the shadow appeared and the following began. One week of that same distant trailing which had you sprinting like some sort of track star, two weeks of running only the last block home, locking every single bolt on your door (then unlocking when it was time to let your roommate in), and three in total of squinting behind you in stinted moments and wondering what you see.

You think his hair is white.

Now though, tonight, he stays not a block or two behind you but rather, less than fifty feet. You can make him out—see now the faded black of his jeans and the red of his chuck taylors, dirty. He’s young-ish, you think, more noticeable than before, and skinnier–though maybe your eyesight has just gotten worse, or the memories have faded in trying to spare you from another trauma, maybe even from awakening any of the first ones.

You wonder how he was able to speed up, where he was waiting for you, where he came from that first night, the second, and now. And you wonder why you’ve stopped running as fast, even if you’ve been trying to leave campus earlier and earlier as if that will keep you any safer from walking home at night.

(You had remained after class one night to ask your professor a question you no longer remember, and a wispy haired girl sneered at you so badly you ended up weeping on your way out the door. Not only did it kill your urge to ever stay longer on campus than you needed to, it also caused a wane to your desire to even arrive home at all).

One day, the creeper catches up.

Reaches, like he’d be able to touch you, smiles, like his canines are sharp enough to chew through you…hopefully in one bite if he was even able to swallow that much. Maybe he is.

But you swat back when he does. Hoist your bag in close. Glare over your shoulder. Then speed up, and your lungs tighten into stone almost immediately when he speaks.

“Hey—”

“Get the fuck,” you screech, turning back just enough to say the words despite not knowing if you’d even be brave enough to let them out, to get away unscathed, “away from me!”

The shadow, however, instead of shrinking into disparagement like you so hoped… laughs, skipping towards you, laces flying, smiling wide.

“Aw, c’mon,” he jeers, to which you wince as you try to stomp away from his pull. That is, in between your attempts at keeping your eyes on him so that he doesn’t pull anything else fast, or deadly.

“I swear to fucking god. I will call the cops.”

Another laugh, his footsteps now lighter, his voice switching to something airy and cool.

“Don’t be like that, pretty.”

You barely look, but you see a flash of red as he kicks out his foot, the curl of a grin pulling one side of his lips lopsided as he lazily trots to match your hurried pace.

You want to start running, to disappear, dissolve—anything to stop things from developing further into a conversation and your possible demise—but he catches up to you again before you can even try to skirt away in any direction other than forward.

“You noticed quicker than I thought you would,” he almost hums, the words exposing the soft, pink tissue of his gums. “‘didn’t think you would.”

There is a question in his statement, though his voice doesn’t lilt and only his eyebrows give it away, quirking, stretching, falling, the piercing on his left one along with it, when you slow down (hardly, still breathing rough and nervous, not wanting to look) but don’t respond.

“Most people…” he shakes his head, “eh.”

“What?” you stop your stride, more out of surprise than want, and stare at him despite how distinctly you avoid catching his eyes. “Like people don’t know when they’re being followed?”

“Nah,” he says, his mouth remaining open after, humorously, like you’re supposed to get the joke, think it’s cool, that he’s a zombie, maybe. Something. “Like I thought you wouldn’t care.”

You cross your arms, blink at the ground in trying to hide what is most likely a stupid looking pout in your failing attempt to get hot and angry. You shouldn’t even be speaking. “I care when creepy people follow me.”

He laughs again, raspy and free. “It’s been weeks.”

You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of looking at him, but you look at him anyway. Truly focus on the mop of messy white and black streaked hair atop his head, the stained, canvas jacket with extra pockets and copper zippers, and his smile; the delicate, creased skin of his jaw that fades smoothly up his cheeks and down his neck. He isn’t bare of a good amount of piercings, either: he’s got all sorts metal in his ears, nose, and dimples, as far as you can tell by simply looking at him

He’s not really all that creepy-looking after all. To your surprise (and slight disgust), in fact, you find he’s somewhat… handsome.

You swallow.

“It’s been three.”

“Hm, baby?”

You tense, the claws returning, this time aiming for your heart, shredding it open, every insecurity lighting aflame when he smiles that smile again.

“Three weeks. That’s how long you’ve been stalking me,” you say.

There’s a pause, a shift, something you don’t catch and can hardly read. Then, he rolls his eyes, shoving his white knuckled fingers into the pockets of his coat. He doesn’t move otherwise, doesn’t even look angry, or as though he’s going to take any steps backwards or forward, and not like he’s going to lunge at you as if you’re prey and there’s an animal in him that he’s already promised food.

You feel otherwise, though he shakes his head with a ‘tsk. “I’d say stalking is a little harsh.”

You’re not sure why you object, “But–”

“I don’t stare into your window,” he taunts, “don’t have your number, don’t send you stupid love poems every night and every morning that say,‘I love you, be mine!’” He pretends to sing-song,

You can feel the irony, hear the chuckle but turn anyway to resume your walk into the night. Briskly. Refusing to look back and acknowledge the stranger you’re not sure wants to kill you.

“I don’t throw rocks at your window,” he continues to call after you, “or approach you in cafes and pretend you’re crazy when you scream.”

“Then leave me alone,” you shout, hoping the wind carries it far enough behind you to reach him, though you shiver still.

You don’t see it, but he shrugs. And surprisingly stays where he’s put, watching you try not to look like you’re peeking at him before nearly tripping on your own feet. You’re not sure if it’s a relief.

It’s the first night since first learning of him that you’ve walked home alone.

Later, you learn the creep has two names.

It’s been five weeks now, just after winter’s turn, the clouds not so big anymore but often dense with the slightest bit of rain you enjoy only when you wake up in the middle of the night too scared to go back to sleep.

The creeper, the shadow, your stalker, basically lives behind you now, grinning whenever you glance, dancing whenever you glare; it’s like he soaks up your, any kind of, attention like a bonfire being doused with gasoline. You’re still scared, unknowing of what he wants, but now that you’ve spoken, there’s somewhat of a static that’s settled, too; it’s tense and awkward, but the horror of it all is stagnant in build, in wait for the spark to light and set your whole world ablaze.

Though he finds you again, two red lights in, halfway to your house.

“Hey,” he says, following with your name.

You immediately shudder, jerking away from him in surprise as if there’s anything else you could do, but he just laughs that laugh of his, undisturbed he’s now talking to your back.

“Where’d you learn that?” you snap, but you can practically hear his grin when he responds.

“Got classmates, don’t you?”

Most of your classmates ignore you half the time, the other half just roll their eyes. Most of your classmates laugh whenever you speak, the ones who don’t have made you cry in front of your professors.

“They wouldn’t piss on me if I was on fire.”

“I would,” he says, pausing as if he’s some sort of pensive, then giving you a look that assures you he’s up to no good, “and they gave me your name. Ibara, Setsuna, Yui–I could go on, you know?”

You’re surprised. You’re disgusted. At him, at them, and you gape, the only thing you can think to do under a circumstance that implies no one has any regard for your safety and yet, hardly leaves you surprised. “I think I’d rather just die.”

“That’s not true,” the creeper laughs, seeming oddly sure of the answer. You’re too nonplussed to decide if he’s right.

“I hate you,” you try instead.

“You don’t even know me.”

And it’s no nice to meet you, but the words slip out before you can stop them.

“So, what’s your name then?”

He hesitates, sucking on the piercing on his bottom lip before letting it pop back out in a sneer that shows pointed teeth. You’re not sure if he’s meaning to come off as upset or pensive, bitter or just plain rude.

“Dabi.”

The words fall off his lips, snappy and hot, like you’re lighting the burner on an old stove, or flicking a match against a matchbox for the first time and getting surprised when it sparks.

You pause, peeking over your shoulder. “‘gonna cremate me once you kill me?”

This time, he doesn’t laugh. “Maybe,” he says, then when you don’t react, “no.”

Your foot taps the ground when you look forward again. “You should really think about changing it, then.”

There’s a pause, a shift in clothes and in breath despite the pace at which you walk. You feel nervous, awkward the way one does when someone catches you with bad hair, or wearing the last clean clothes in the house on laundry day. You’re not sure why you care so much about a man who clearly does not care about you. Or does… in the same way a farmer fattens up a chicken for slaughter.

“Call me Touya, then,” he says, his eyes dark. “That’s what my ma calls me.”

“Touya,” you repeat, sounding the word out on your tongue soft and slow. Lamp. Arrow. A name from his mother. Your lips wrap around it, caress the warmth of the dip, the bend, the aim… and his face breaks into that knowing, wolfish grin.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

You freeze, one foot freezing in the air, and he bursts into a rasp of laughter so loud your eyebrows immediately shoot up and almost off your head entirely. You go in to shush him like you would as if you were accused of something embarrassing, your expression morphing into a deep frown, and his own lightening with humor but still twisting with something hidden, something you really hope is not satisfaction. His lopsided smile falls just the slightest when he sees you readjust your bag and start, almost, stomping away.

He lets you find distance, of course, he’s always been a shadow not a stable fly, but Touya once again resumes his lazy trailing, joyously humming now, the sound echoing in your ears much longer than it probably should as he falls into a careful step behind you just as he always does… until you eventually make it home.

At six weeks in, he finally drops you off at your house.

Normally Touya stops his trail about a block or two before you make it, today, however, by the time you’re on the stone steps leading up to your front door, he’s a mere ten feet from your side like a chivalrous date making sure you get home safe (or like someone intending to grab your hands when you’re opening the door and rush in after you, as if to mount you right there on the floor). Your knees wobble on the first step when he speaks, though he remains standing politely next to the fire hydrant by the curb, playing with an unlit cigarette in between his fingers.

“Got any roommates?”

You stop, keys dangling from your fingers as you refuse to turn back and look.

“Yeah,” you say, staring at the chopped firewood on your porch as you let the silence sprawl. You would’ve said the same even if you didn’t.

“Good. Smart cookie.”

Your stomach twists. Your face burns. He bounces on his heels. You can’t move.

“That bakery down the street,” he begins again, nodding his head when you peek at him, barely. “It got food?”

You squint, your stiff hands cold and tight, his in his pockets.

“Um.”

He waits.

“It’s got mice.”

Then he bursts into laughter, quickly quieting to suck his teeth and kick a foot forward like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. There’s a part of you that knows you need to stop indulging this man, for your own safety and sanity, but there’s another part that also doesn’t flip when you think of the possibility of dying. Instead of going inside, you kick your own feet out and ignore your trepidation.

“Why?”

“Wanna get dinner?”

He grins, and you hate the thought as soon as it arises, but it’s lovely; he has the smile lines of someone who has lived a happy life, and he looks so pretty you almost want to cry.

(Today he’s dressed in dark, stained jeans and dirty boots. His hair is still a white and black mess and his smile is boyish and toothy. It sends a current up your spine that makes you jerk when you turn back to face your front door.)

“Piss off.”

You shove your key in the lock to ignore the way he responds with a chuckle as his farewell, goofily waving when you manage to get the stupid thing to turn and yourself inside (which you notice only when you turn to slam the door closed and the curtain ripples).

But later, when you spare one more glance, the way one glances, out of the window of your living room as if to merely check the weather, Touya is smoking his cigarette on the street corner.

Campus Creep Caught Hanging Around.

Busted, but this time, not blue! The attacker who was dubbed the “campus creeper” by Mustafu University students was spotted once more about a mile away from the local school. A local cafe owner claims he saw the man being followed by another of a similar size, but is unsure if the two men are of a related circumstance or other.

He reports that the neighborhood has been in good spirits lately, so this comes as a shock. As we continue to find out more, the public will be updated—

Today your shadow is waiting for you at the end of the block. You spot him from out of the third story window of your classroom, feet sticking halfway off the curb and a lit cigarette between his lips that curls pretty, silver smoke into the golden blue light of the nighttime air.

“Hey, need a ride home?” one of your classmates asks beside you, the one that has your same name, shocking you out of your stupor as they tap the fingers of one hand against your table and swing their car keys around in the other.

You can barely tear your gaze away from the window to look at them; their flushed face, their short curls, tight and bouncing, and their awkward, half-assed attempt at generosity. You wonder if this is some kind of exercise they were told to practice in therapy.

“I heard about the campus stalker,” they continue without prompt. “Shihai and Kinoko are coming too, but you can squeeze in the middle, if you want.”

Their smile looks almost pitying.

“Uh,” you blink, a little stupefied, a little shy. “It’s alright, but thanks.”

They raise their eyebrows. “Isn’t your neighborhood a ways down by that cafe?”

“Yeah,” you nod, pausing to flick your eyes upward, “But I, uh...my friend is gonna walk me.”

You point toward the window, where your shadow, Dabi, Touya, whoever, has stopped smoking and is now bent over (teasing, most likely, with a gray-tinted shoelace) one of the mouser cats owned by the keepers of the small temple that sits snug at the back of your school.

You’re not exactly sure when he morphed into your friend. You don’t even think he has yet… but the words feel natural, eager, and easier than sliding onto leather seats in between two people who have never once looked your way with a nice expression and probably never will.

“Oh good!” same-name laughs, tipping their head back in a way that almost seems exaggerated. “I was scared someone might try to nab you. Not anymore, though.”

You’re not quite sure if they’re joking, but you try to smile and nod along anyway.

By the time he catches up to you that night, he’s half out of breath.

“There you are,” he says, grinning that stupid, wolf-like grin. “‘thought maybe you’d left out the back. Would’ve had to run to catch you.”

You frown, readjusting the weight of your bag on your shoulder like always, distracted as you multitask trying to make sure your water bottle hasn’t leaked as you run through a list of things to remember as well as double check that you haven’t forgotten anything inside.

“The north wing is halfway around campus,” you purposely avoid mentioning you took the long way to skip the corner where Touya usually stands. Instead of his face, you stare at the ground instead, by now resigned to the torture of waiting for your end… even if you’re secretly a tad disappointed he hadn’t brought the cat with him.

“So?” Touya doesn’t look perturbed when you finally face him, almost as if he was waiting for you, “’woulda caught up eventually.”

You make a note to add that to your list of things to remember, raising your eyebrows.

“Why?” you ask, and then before he can tease, “Why bother, I mean?” and you can tell he must think you’re joking by the way he doesn’t answer, instead responding by flattening his face–his eyes sinking back into the cozy crevices where they rest and the skin of his chin tightening with exasperation as dry as tinder.

You try not to be too perturbed by it, instead of pressing him for answers, simply turning to set back off as if that will stop the eye roll he’ll give you behind your back and change his mind about following you home. But, as always, or at least, as of more recently, Touya waits a mere five steps before starting right along behind you like the shadow his is.

“What do you want from me, Touya?”

You ask the question one day, finally, two and a half months in. Classes aren’t over yet, but the end of winter semester is fast approaching. The words seem to scratch at your throat, their destination apparent even if you find they’re hard to spit out and burn on their way out.

“What?” he asks, falling into a perky step beside you. He’s been that close everyday for the last two weeks now. And now, pressed up against you, near hopping like you’ve been friends for years, he doesn’t back away from the inquiry.

You’re tired. Sick of waiting. Sad that you let this whole thing last so long when you’ve been quite aware of your impending doom (not that you ever told anyone, not even your roommate) and have done little to try and stop it.

“You wanna kill me or something? Take me home so you can fuck me then run me over?”

Touya’s footsteps slow, and he halts (for the first time ever of his own volition) a little ways behind you. He’s not as tall as you initially thought him to be back when he kept his distance, but you’ve also since learned that his eyes are the prettiest cyan you’ve ever seen, and his scarred skin is soft and pink. Silver piercings adorn his cheeks like dimples, scars cutting the two different textures right in half.

“No,” he says, then half heartedly and calm, “you know I’ve done enough of that, already.”

You glance at him, pulling your head back in a half-horrified glare. But instead of the only half-serious expression you’re so used to seeing on him, however, you find a shit-eating smirk on his face that tells you he’d laugh if he weren’t so obviously trying to yank your chain by not doing so at all.

Still serious, he jumps at you though, eyes opening wide, hands outstretched and twitching like a monster in a cartoon out to grab you, and you hop back like he’s on fire. No sooner does his face fall that he glances at you as if waiting for some kind of reaction, positive review, happy Halloween (even though it’s ages before Halloween).

When you stay silent, the hands on your chest not falling, your expression still one of terror but to him quite bitter, he rolls his eyes so far up that only the white are showing.

“I’m joking,” he says, his baby ocean blues coming back down to settle right on you. “Obviously.”

You pause, standing still, trying to breathe, comprehend the, the, the predator that has been following you so closely for what you finally conclude has been months now.

All those torturous moments, since that first night of running, all amounted to something even he won’t name. A silent end, for someone as lonely and pathetic as you; it’d almost be fitting, except for the fact that there’s no specific reason for it to be you. You’re a nobody, friendless and unhappy, waiting for the day you finally graduate and can leave this shitty city behind. It’s not like it ever kept you safe.

“Then what?” you ask.

You feel resigned, defeated, undermined… yet he looks at you dumbly, as if you’re supposed to know something you clearly do not, and while you’d normally be embarrassed, you find you’re too worn down to care. Touya raises his brows sharply, the bruised-looking (but delicate) bags under his eyes shifting slightly with the tension of an annoyed frown as his voice strains to mock you. “What do you mean, ‘then what?’”

Your face goes slack, and you think you’d try to hit him if you knew that wouldn’t end up with you on the ground or sobbing alone at home. “Seriously, Touya? We both know you’re stalking me.”

He laughs dryly, one of the few times you’ve seen him so serious (the last time when he pointed out something dead on the pavement you had to stop him from trying to pray for. ‘I don’t even go to temple,’ he had said at the time, sounding so offended that you decided to drop the subject altogether and just let him go for the little dead bird he said he wanted to give to a friend). “I’m not.”

“You are. I know you are. You…”

“I can assure you, hon, if I were stalking you, you’d already be roadkill,” he twists one of his earrings, making a show of staring at the painted nails of his other hand, dark purple, before tsk-ing at you, sassy. “Not like you run from me, anyway.”’

You feel your stomach turn in embarrassment, in shame. You know he’s partly right, but you’re not about to admit that to the man who started it in the first place, who chased you home that whole first month, who, despite the familiarity you share now, still takes pleasure in your pain.

“Because, because no matter what I do, you won't quit chasing me. I’ve been running from you. ‘Cos you won’t leave. Me. Alone.”

Touya rolls his eyes, then sighs like you’re being a hassle. “If you really didn’t want me here I woulda left. I’m not stupid.”

“But I don’t want you here. I never did. You show up out of, of, fucking nowhere, acting like you know me—”

“I’m keeping you safe, lollipop,” he interrupts, though the words hardly register.

“Safe? As if it’s my fault you can’t leave me alone?”

You think of all the nights that had you near paralyzed with terror, from that first day onward, of rubbing your feet raw in your shoes, of wishing someone would come save you, of puzzling why you never ended up dead, to now. You never once thought, realized–

“Not your fault. His. The neighbor stalker.”

You can barely respond, your arms shaking at your sides, eyes watering with distress.

“But you, you’re…”

He smacks his lips with a yawn.

“Yeah, I beat him black and blue, maybe. But only cuz he was trailing you, I wouldn’t…” he shoves one hand in the pocket of his coat, waves the other dramatically in the air, “go after someone unless—”

“Touya?” you question, your throat rough, your swallows heavy and thick with a syrupy confusion.

“They did something real bad, like messed with a—“

“Dabi.”

He finally looks at you, the sheen in his eyes, for once, solemn, as if he harbors a genuine concern for your safety all brought on by your confusion.

“What?”

It’s a question he asks a lot, but this time, he seems to mean it.

“Dabi,” you repeat, “you mean… you’re not the campus creep? The one on the news?”

He gawks at you suddenly. The silence stretching, the night suddenly looming, the breeze even seeming to laugh. His disinterested expression begins to fade into a blank, unreadable nothingness… and then he howls. Hoots. Yells. His smile returning then, wide, blazing, hot.

He laughs like you’ve never seen anyone laugh before, guffawing joyously and jollily, slapping his hands against the ripped holes of his jeans as his chest heaves underneath today’s thin, white tee.

It’s almost contagious. Almost.

“And here I thought we were bonding.”

You prickle like a cat, digging your toes into the tips of your worn out shoes. “Stop it. I’m being serious.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” he manages in between snickers, “you thought I was the creeper this whole time?”

“You’re not?”

“That guy?” Touya straightens up to wipe his eyes, and you finally notice the crow’s feet that crinkle around his eyes, “Hell no. You think I do this for fun? Wear fuckin’ ugly hats and shit to terrorize pretty students at the school my ass of a little brother attends?”

You say nothing. He starts laughing again, clapping his hands and keeling over. Even in jest, his voice still has that soft, raspy charm as he hoots at the ground.

“Dabi. Touya. Whoever you are,” you plead, the first time ever you think you’ve voluntarily gotten closer to him, grabbing the rough shoulder of his jacket and tugging. He stumbles, maybe more on purpose than because of your grip, closing the distance between you such that his chest is pressed against yours and his hands are on your hips. “Tell me the truth. What’s going on?”

He snorts, the only difference in sound now that it’s muffled by the closeness of your lips, but responds slowly nonetheless.

“I beat the snot,” he emphasizes, exposing teeth, “out of your stalker. And you didn’t even know he wasn’t me.”

“But…” you say, hesitating against him, your hands slipping from the stiff collar of his jacket to the front of his chest, confused. His eyes are as cold as ice but set you on fire when you meet his gaze. “You didn’t have to. I mean, I woulda been fine, right?”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced. “You tell me, when you’re the one still trying to walk your stupid ass home alone at night.”

You flush, cheeks heating the skin all the way down to your neck. Touya seems to have clocked you far better than you ever knew it yourself–that he was never the enemy, that you were trapped in a self pity so deep only he could drag you out of it before choking, that dying, being tortured, being stalked, was far from the punishment you needed to get that kind of smoke out of both your lungs and your head.

And, if anything, that you were lucky to have him.

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t care.” Touya steps back only to purposely step gently on your toes. When you glare at him, hand still stretched out to link the two of you together somehow, he only grins. “Buy me dinner to make up for it. Or kiss me sometime. With tongue. Either’s fine, cookie.”

It’s been six months. Summer is just about to begin, your roommate has already left on vacation, and the closer you get to the end of the season, the more you feel your worries begin to melt off of you like layers upon layers of frost on an icy window of a warm cabin.

The shadow still walks you home, but he no longer trails behind you, and you no longer call him a creep. You call him Touya–now your lamp, now your arrow–and sometimes Dabi (that is, when you feel like he’s not listening).

Though the sun now sets a whole hour later than it did during winter, excusing as much of a need for Touya’s presence in your routine, you have now welcomed him into it, (even if you spent the first couple months of your real relationship trying to make up for your initial confusion at his presence with bowls of soap and burnt bread from the cafe near your house.)

It is a Thursday when a wispy-haired classmate comes up to you on the steps that lead away from campus. She’s the one you knew vaguely from elementary school in your distant home town, and who made herself reacquainted by sneering at you once for eating a candy bar in class; she bared fangs at you like she herself had never been hungry, and then ignored you every time you saw her after (even during assigned group work, when you realized she wasn’t even that intelligent).

But, now, you know, Touya can sneer, too, and sneer for you in ways that light a fire in the hearth of your existence… and he does so, sharply, arrogantly, when she approaches underneath the fading light of the sun and slate blue sky. She looks almost scared, even more so of his smile, big, wide and scary—that is, until you interrupt the moment by calling out to her from behind his back.

“You ever heard about the campus creeper?” you ask, to which she nods anxiously, big, wet tears welling in her eyes as she hobbles right over to your side, Touya already barking into the warming night air as he begins to walk you both home.

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #touya x reader #oh m god. i want to do another read thru so bad but i am just going to press post.#please please heed warnings but enjoy #i promise it's not so scary #i love you #caitie fic #gen #caitie post #dabi

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mamayan · 9 months

Text

★彡SOFT YANDERE DABI SHORT DRABBLE☆彡

Soft Yandere Dabi x Darling!

Synopsis: You read something that disturbs you greatly, your heart aching and in need of comfort. Your captor is happy to clear up some misunderstandings. (I do not condone any book or author burning, it’s just for the story)

Warnings: Soft NSFW (smut), light yandere themes, cursing, pet names (doll, sweet girl, princess), afab reader, FLUFF, fingering, penetrative sex, mentions of murder, Dabi is not a soft man even if he’s being soft

You didn’t realize you were crying until you tasted your own tears. The pages in your hands slowly blurring as you tried to rationalize with yourself. It’s just a story, fiction, not real. Though, try as you might, your empathetic heart aches with the thought of something so horrid ever happening to you. The main character in your novel, the adventurous and wonderful protagonist, meets a torturous end at the hands of the one they loved most.

Manipulated, used, abused, and left behind like trash.

The first hiccuped sob is a bit loud, as you quickly move to stifle the next. Why this was hitting you so deeply, you truly couldn’t fathom. Maybe it was the thought of him doing it to you. The man in question certainly capable and able of bad deeds like no other, but when it came to you he was always gentle. Even when he claimed he wasn’t, that he was going to be “rough” and “show you who was in charge”, they was empty threats followed by pleasure and loving hands thereafter.

It might be due to your attachment to the series, a different protagonist and antagonist in each book but all set in the same world and slowly intertwining as you near the end. This was the second to last book, but the ending has you struggling to pick up the next. It was just so sad, and the author depicted the emotional and physical pain so well.

You sniffled, putting the book on the night stand and getting up to go get a glass of water from the kitchen. Dabi was gone on mission, and you weren’t sure when he would be back anyhow. It was best to put the TV on and find something to distract yourself.

Is what you thought, but just as you passed the front door, it unlocked and opened to reveal your tall captor dressed in casual street wear. A black torn up hoodie with a white t-shirt underneath, the hood up over his head and a black cotton mask hiding everything but his electric blue eyes. His black jeans with a spiked belt and combat boots were a little muddy, but it wasn’t too unusual since it was the rainy season. He held a plastic shopping bag in his right hand, and the house keys in the left. Both dropped to the ground though, and faster than really should be normal, your face was cradled in his hands as he looked down on you in a panic. Water dripped off his soaked clothing and onto you and the floor below.

“Hey doll, wanna tell me what’s wrong?” It was nearly threatening how he asked it. Especially with his mask covering up a lot of his expression, but you were familiar with the concern in his gaze, despite there being a hint of malice attached too.

“Oh, no it’s nothing important!” The embarrassment of having been caught crying over a story was enough torture, let alone explaining it aloud to a man who could very well laugh at you because of it. The thought of being ridiculed by Dabi left a sour taste in your mouth, and you were eager to change the subject.

“You’re all wet! Let me grab a towelー” When you tried to move away, his grip changed on your face. Instead of the gentle caress a moment ago, he now gripped your jaw and cheeks in one hand, and his atmosphere changed. Despite him being a flame quirk, the chills he could evoke were terrifying. “Try moving away again when I ask you a question, I don’t really feel like punishing you tonight, but if that’s what you want…” He trailed off, and you didn’t need to be told twice.

Maybe it was the tone of voice he used now, or the threat of punishment… even though they were never really punishments in your opinion, but the flood gates opened nonetheless. Your tears were thankfully enough for his irritation to evaporate back into concern, strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close to lean on him. He smelled like rain and smoke, and a bit spicy. He’d likely been active, but the way he smelled was familiar and comforting. It was no longer a scent which evoked terror in you, instead you melted into his damp embrace.

“Okay, okay, how about this? You go start the shower. Set the temperature just how you like. I’ll be there to join you in a minute, yeah?” His raspy low voice turned soothing, a gentle hand cupping your cheek so he could press his forehead against your own. You felt a shiver run through you, the sick feeling in your gut lessening with his idea. He did always complain about your preferred shower temperature, and the teasing wasn’t lost on you as you sniffed and nodded. Blowing your nose also sounded like a good idea, snot probably on his hoodie already. He gave your head a quick kiss, pushing you in the direction of the bathroom as he moved to shut and lock the door behind him. You followed his order, padding across the floor and onto the tile of the bathroom, the chill traveling up your spine and setting you into motion.

The spray of water hitting your bare skin was uncomfortable at first. You really did just want to curl up in a ball and pretend this all wasn’t happening. You struggled to formulate a better plausible reason for you acting like this, but your mind kept coming up blank.

It was too late, as the bathroom door opened and Dabi entered. The clear glass door hid nothing from his eyes as he smirked and shamelessly watched you for a moment. His face mask was gone, along with his hoodie. He easily stripped off his shirt, his body on display this time for you as he slowly undid his belt. You liked when he did this, put on a show of sorts, even though when he’d first taken you, he hardly ever took his shirt off even when you were intimate. His crude attitude made him come off confident, if not overly, about his looks. You knew better now though, the insecurities his burns and scars carried. You always did your best to turn that around though, to tell and show him how much they amplified his charm and appeal to you. His gaze caught yours as he finally joined you, both of you naked and exposed but the water and tight space seemed to make it less vulnerable.

He wasted little time in grabbed your body wash and soaping you up. His touch teasing and light, riling despite his denial in doing so. Grazing your nipples so innocently, as if he truly is just interested in washing you. Only just barely applying pressure to your clit, and pretending like he hadn’t teased you until you were dripping. “I’m just trying to clean you up doll, and you’re getting off on it?” His tone was mocking, but you could care less as he dipped a finger and then another inside you. The ache in your chest lessened by a new ache in your belly. He’d barely pumped his fingers a few times in you, and you were already close.

“Dabiー”

“Shh… I know. Just come for me, don’t think about anything else. You can do that for me can’t you?” He was behind you, front flush with your back and his hard cock pressed between your ass. Your legs were shaking, arms hooked behind you to hang on as he began teasing your clit too.

It was too much. “Dabi please, I can’t!”

“You don’t really have a choice doll… don’t make me tell you againー fuck, good girl.” You were falling apart in seconds, your pussy drenching his hand and the tension in your belly snapping.

He washed you again, this time methodically. His touch was no longer arousing, more intent on massaging your muscles and loosening the rest of the tension you carried. Though his lips pressed against your own, and he whispered praises in your ear, nothing else took place.

He dried you off, dressed you in one of his shirts, and pushed you towards the bed.

“Now…” he looked serious, climbing onto the bed after you in only a pair of dark boxers. You leaned back, nervous as he took position over you, arms and legs caging you in. “Care to tell me what upset you?” His gaze was daring you to lie, and you were certainly tempted to do so, but you were already drained. He’d hardly been home for half an hour and was crumbling your defenses.

Dabi was nothing if not observant and meticulous when it came to you.

“Something sad happened to the protagonist in my book…” Your tongue dipped out to wet your lips, his eyes tracking every little twitch and movement you made like a predator waiting to strike.

He didn’t speak. His stony expression didn’t give way to the ridicule you expected either. His only indication for you to continue was a slight nod of his head. You chose to settle your stare on his collar bone, easier than meeting his intense gaze. “A-and it, um, it made me sad… I guess? It made me sort of… compare it to u-us. Like, if it happened to me…” Your eyes flicked briefly up to his own before back down again. The confession messy and hardly worth noting, at least in your own opinion.

He grunted, making you look back up as he cocks a brow down at you in his usual mildly condescending attitude. “You think I might do the bad thing that happened in your book to you?” His guess was a bullseye, and it didn’t make you feel good to even paint him in that light. You knew logically he’d never do something so atrocious to you, not if he meant how he felt for you.

But insecurities don’t listen or feed off logic.

He must’ve gotten some non-verbal confirmation from you, because in the next moment he was reaching over the bedside table and grabbing up the offending novel, setting it ablaze right before your eyes. The dust and ashes lightly decorating your torso as you gaped in shock. He grinned, looking pleased as he brushed the remnants of the pages off you. “I don’t read all the books I get you, no point and they don’t really interest me, but I do read their synopsis and spoilers. You think I’d let me friends fuck you?”

You felt the atmosphere getting dangerous as he looked downright feral. A warm hand on your chest pressing you flat on your back into the mattress.

“Think I’d sit back and watch while a bunch of deranged shit bags had their fill of you?” His tone was menacing, hissing out his visible disgust even as he spoke. “This is clearly my fault, isn’t it doll?” You weren’t sure how to answer him, but he laughed when you quickly shook your head. The rhetorical question seeming to lead nowhere good. “No, I think we need to have a revisit to an old lesson. Who you belong to, is me, and me alone, sweet girl.” His hand drags up your chest to your throat where his long fingers encircle it. He doesn’t squeeze hard, but he does place enough pressure for you to feel to dominance he’s displaying. “Have I been to nice with you? Is that why you don’t know the answer to what I’d do if anyone tried to even touch you?” You weren’t able to fully shake your head, so it forced to speak even though it came out strained.

“N-no… I-I’m sorry Dabiー” he cut your apology short by briefly cutting your oxygen.

“Nu-uh doll, we aren’t doing little apologies right now. We’re having open and honest dialogue here.” If he wasn’t currently choking you and pinning you to the bed, maybe you’d believe that. He released his tight grip, going back to gentle pressure as you gasped for air, panting.

“No, we’re going to have a test. If you get at least 80% correct, I’ll pass you. If you don’t however…” he trailed off, looking down at you with mock pity. It made you nervous and excited all at once, and he must’ve noticed the way you squeezed your thighs because he sat up on his knees now. His free hand pressing on your lower abdomen and moving down to your bare cunt under his shirt. “Always so ready for me, aren’t you doll?” You wanted to argue he was always teasing you, that was the true explanation behind your arousal, but it might end whatever was happening so you kept quiet. He trailed a finger up through your folds, your legs spreading wider in invitation for him to do more. He doesn’t though, just softly spreading your arousal over your clit before moving back down to do it again. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Not even close to what you needed to send you over the edge. Your little whines and pleas would go ignored, Dabi loving edging just as much as he loved overstimulation. Either produced the reaction he truly adored, your body and mind unable to function without him.

“Now… question number oneーpay attention” he sent a sharp slap to your clit that had you jerking and crying out in his hold, “ーwhat is the fastest way to piss me off?” Your poor clit throbbed, but you swallowed and did your best to answer coherently.

“L-lie to you…?” Another slap to your clit had you whining as you dug your heels into the bed to push away from him to little avail. It was the wrong answer.

“Not what you do to piss me off, I mean in general, doll. What’s the quickest way for someone to burn?” He spoke so casually about murder, it barely registered as anything odd to you. You took a moment longer to think about it, and he kindly let you as he returned to teasing your slit.

You shivered, “To hurt me…” you whispered softly, but moaned loudly the next moment when he sank a finger into you. Your head leaned back as he began pumping into you at the perfect pace, curling up even as your hips lifted to meet him. “Good girl…” he murmured, but he was watching the way your tight cunt took his finger.

“Next question.” He chuckled at your whine, clearly you weren’t an eager student. “Who would kill everyone if anything happened to you?” Despite his horrendous words, you couldn’t fathom caring as you felt the coil tightening inside you. “Y-you would, oh there!” You moaned wantonly as he slipped another finger inside and curled them to rub at that perfect spot. The sound of him finger fucking you was erotic and distracting.

“Fuck you’re so wet, I think you like these lessons…” his expression was salacious, and you tightened around him seeing it. He licked his lips, and you knew he was nearing his own limit if the tent in his boxers was any indication.

“Question number three, would I ever fucking let someone else touch you, let alone share you?” You moaned, feeling your orgasm approaching, fingers clenching the sheets in a death grip as you struggled to speak. He was doing it on purpose. Just a little more andー

He slid his fingers out before you could come, “Please!” It was a useless and futile plea.

He laughed, looking so amused as the grip around your neck got tighter and he pushed you back into the mattress. “Answer me sweet girl, or you won’t come again tonight.” It wasn’t a threat, it was a warning, and you knew from experience to take it seriously. He’d edge you the entire night. “N-no! You wouldn’t! You wouldn’t!”

Your fervent answer must’ve satisfied him, or he’d reached his limit. It hardly mattered when his thick cock bumped your clit. The swollen and reddened tip so hot in comparison to the cool metal of his piercings. You couldn’t spread your legs any further, only able to arch your back and beg for him to just fuck you already. He used his hand still wet with your juices to pump his shaft a few times, groaning when he finally did sink his tip into you.

Then he slammed fully inside and had you wailing.

“Fuck yes!” He hissed, gritting his teeth in a savage grin. His free hand now anchored your hip down, as he began a brutal pace of possessiveness and ownership. He was claiming your cunt as he fit every inch of himself inside you. Bullying your poor cervix as his balls slapped against your ass. He knew how to angle his hips to grind into your clit as well in this position, and it had you seeing stars when you came so suddenly.

His rhythm faltered only momentarily when he realized you’d came so quickly, chuckling as his ego soared. “Oh yeah? You love my cock that fucking much, dirty princess?” He wasn’t kind as he fucked you right through your orgasm. He grunted, pulling out of you only to flip you on your stomach and yank your ass up to fill you again from behind. It was a whole new stretch and pressure that had you noisily crying out as he pressed your face into the mattress. His chest against your back and vicious thrusts were animalistic but also so intimate. It was grounding as all thoughts left you and you surrendered to just feeling.

He must’ve felt it too, as he leaned back and slowed down to a more manageable pace for you to breathe.

“Last question… who owns this pussy?” It had you shivering, as you quietly managed to choke out his name.

His hand came down on your ass now, both sides smacked painfully. It only made the pleasure intensify as you tightened around his cock, making him moan. “Louder!”

“Dabiー” two more hits landed on your ass, the burning sensation coupled with the perfect way he filled you up had you nearing another orgasm.

“Poor thing,” he mocked, “Am I just fucking you that good? You can’t fucking think now? Who owns this pussy!?” He was already spanking you again as you wailed out your answer.

“You! Dabi! Dabi owns my pussy!” He was fucking you again in earnest and it only threw you over the edge again as you came on his cock for the second time. Both hands on your hips to rip you back on his cock as he bounced you off. Your head was spinning as you babbled nonsense, unable to keep your chest up as your arms gave out. He was chasing his own finish now though, roughly fucking you down into the mattress as you finally felt him say your name lowly and his hot cum fill you up.

You stayed like that for a minute or so as you both worked to catch your breath. As always though, Dabi recovered quicker as he lazily slid out of your twitching cunt now dripping his white hot load out and onto the bed. He reached out to spread you wider, a closer view to watch it run out of you. Then he used one hand to catch it, this time pushing it back inside of you and causing you to whine at the contact to your sore cunt.

“Dabi…” his name on your lips hoarse.

“I know, doll. Tired?” He asked so sweetly while still fucking his come back inside you.

“Yes…” he only hummed, finally losing interest as he helped you onto your back and kissed your tear stained cheek.

“You feel better?” His eyes were gentle and face relaxed as he began drawing mindless patterns across your face with the tip of his thumb. The soothing action had you blinking tiredly. You only nodded, a soft smile on your lips as the earlier ache and worry disappeared.

You should’ve known better. This man was a lunatic and out of his mind, your fears were unfounded.

“Good. Go to sleep, I’ll clean you up.”

When you’d finally drifted off to sleep, Dabi cleaned himself up and got dressed.

He had an author to burn alongside the book after all.

#x reader #bnha #dabi #mdni #18+#18+ please #drabble #soft dabi #soft yandere dabi #yandere dabi #dark themes #please read my warnings #smut #dabi x reader #yandere dabi x reader #yandere dabi x reader smut

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missmeinyourbones · 1 year

Note

dabi + mutual pining 👁️👁️?

…

when dabi returns from the bar without an old-fashioned in hand, your interest is piqued.

you can't help but smile at his sulking shoulders and sullen eyes, "why are you drinkless?"

"don’t ask," he waves you off before slumping into the booth beside you.

after a moment of feeling your beady little eyes focused on his through his peripheral vision, he eventually caves.

"forgot my wallet, so i tried flirting with the bartender for a free drink and—"

his voice trails off, admitting defeat as he uses his open palms to gesture to the empty table before him, the one that represents his failure of negotiation (and smooth talking) skills.

and you would be laughing at his misery if it wasn't for the gears busy turning in your head at a tiny detail of his sentence.

"you know how to flirt?"

dabi’s jaw physically drops in disbelief, "and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"nothing, i don't know!" you're quick to put out the fire, so you sip your drink and brush off the comment. “i just didn't think it was something you did."

dabi grimaces at your amusement of the whole scenario, so he picks the dry skin from his lips with a defensive sigh.

"i mean, it's not something i do frequently, or to just anyone," he assures, doing his best to keep his voice level. “it's… selective."

"so what i'm hearing is that you're picky."

he looks over to you, and you're enjoying this. cheeks slightly flushed from both the alcohol and the laughter you bite back, you're clearly getting a kick out of his borderline pathetic demise.

he scoffs before turning his head away from you, not wanting to look you in the eye when he bares his next confession.

"i’ll have you know, i flirted with you the first time we met,” he wraps his knuckles on the table to busy his drinkless hands, “y'know, before i got to know you and became repulsed by you."

from the corner of his eye, dabi can see you giggle behind your drink, fiddling with the straw between your lips.

you swirl the ice around in the glass. "the first time we met, you said i had a stupid laugh," you knowingly remind him.

and you expect him to fight the accusation, to defend his flirting skills and recall the memory differently; but when he turns to you with a shrug and tight-lipped smile, everything begins to click for you.

"that's your flirting?” you practically gawk in surprise and he’s tsking away from you once more.

you’re not satisfied though, now giddy with the realization that not only was he bad at flirting, but he’d willingly admitted that he was flirting with you. your smile is blinding, and he would be content with letting it beam, if it wasn’t at his disadvantage in the first place.

“oh god it's worse than i thought. no wonder no one wants to fuck you."

“it's not my flirting that's bad,” he holds a defensive finger to the air, “it's the fact that the person i usually flirt with is a fucking idiot. that’s why i’m not fucking anyone.”

his confession brings a wave of heat to your cheeks, and whatever alcohol was buzzing through your veins seems weak compared to the affect of a few passing words from him.

you clear your throat before shaking your head, "well, maybe you should learn to flirt better. y’know, maybe don't make fun of their laugh within two minutes of meeting them.”

"well, i don't see you coming up with any suggestions," he passes the ball right back to your court.

and you plan to not answer him, prepare to scoff at his silly tease and change the subject. but the more you think about it, the more you let your curiosity get the best of you.

"compliment them," your voice speaks up after a few moments.

dabi’s eyes light up with a mixture of surprise and pride, "on what?"

"anything you like about them," you shrug casually, as if it’s a simple thing you do all the time. as if you’re constantly bathing him in the knowledge of how much you love his expressive eyes, his quick comebacks, his frowns and smiles and everything in between.

and it's not until he laughs under his breath that you realize you've been staring at him for a bit too long. that he’s been returning the eye contact and the two of you have been admiring one another for what should be an uncomfortable amount of time. but it feels relatively natural, like admiring how the moon seems to follow your car window on a midnight drive.

you decide to break the tension and stand with a playful scoff, "it's not that hard.”

dabi’s furrowed brow silently questions your sudden absence, but when you grab your wallet and gesture to the bar, he lights up with realization.

"you owe me one," you mumble while standing.

he smiles and nods in appreciation, and when you're walking away from the table, he calls out to you.

"hey," you turn on your heel to be met with his lazy smirk and a look of mischief glowing in his eyes.

naturally, he grins, "i like your stupid laugh."

#LOVE U FAYE #i couldn’t do this trope without him being a little shit #not edited & requests are closed if anyone even reads these LIL #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi fic #dabi blurb #dabi drabble #dabi fluff #touya x you #touya x reader #touya fic

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mossy-opal · 1 year

Text

To Lay Above

Incubus!Dabi x Reader

WARNINGS: SMUT!!! Voyeurism, Degradation, Mocking (lovingly), Oral Sex (Reader Receiving)

He rolled his eyes as she said she loved him from beneath him, rolling his hips again so as to not let her notice his disdain.

Being the way he was he knew what love smelt like, or at least what others have explained to him, and this was not it. She didn't love him, she seemed more embarrassed of him than anything. What she loved was the way he made her unravel.

But then again, she was easy. Well- Everyone was easy for an incubus. Even with the way he looked, he could still make anyone weak in the knees for him so he could get something to eat.

The woman didn't even realise he was taking her soul until she was just a corpse on the mattress, with Dabi leaving through the window to find a new toy to play with. Men and women were easy to play with, easy to feed him, but it did get… Boring… To say the least.

He wanted something new, wanted someone new. He was tired of all of them being embarrassed of him when he visited, always saying the same thing.

“Not now, I have friends over…"

“Ah- I don’t think you should come around, my parents are here…"

“Thanks, but I can’t see a movie tonight…”

They always had the same grimace, always had the same tone, and it was clear to him that he wasn’t someone they would be… Proud of…

Maybe it was silly, wanting someone to hold hands with, but he wanted it. He wanted it badly.

“Are you okay…?”

Dabi looked for the source of the voice, tilting his head to find… You.

“Are you alright? You seem… upset.”

He looked you up and down, smirking to himself at the way you looked. Cute.

“Huh.. I’m fine, what’s a cute thing like you worrying about someone like me~?”

Might as well get a free meal out of you, if he couldn’t find anyone else that matched his taste. You even blushed, you really were cute.

“Oh, well, you seem upset is all, I figured I’d ask.”

“What’s it to you, doll~?”

And you shrugged! That was how you two met. You were a bit different, he could tell. You often let him crash on your couch, fed him, offered him your bed at times, but never asked for anything from him. Hell, he even helped you out on going on dates…

Even if he hated how it made him feel…

He didn’t hope your dates would fall through. He would never sabotage your dates.

He didn’t care.

. . .

But he did, and he knew that when he smelt you. He dropped by late at night one evening, he wanted to watch a movie with you, maybe cuddle, but you seemed to be sleeping already. It was odd, but it didn’t matter to him. As he moved to sit on the couch, he stopped when he heard it.

You were moaning.

Suddenly, he felt his heart drop into his stomach. Were you with someone? If you were, why didn’t you tell him, you know he just drops by-

“Dabi~”

His ears twitched at that. His eyes widened as he made his way to your room, your scent bleeding through the door the closer he got. It sounded like the door wasn’t even closed as he heard your heavy breathing, the vibrator between your legs, the squelching of your wetness, your whining and-

“Aaaahh Dabiiii~”

That.

He put his forehead against the door, smelling your arousal. Slowly he felt himself lose control of his appearance. His horns grew from his head, curling around his skull, his teeth changing to his natural fangs as he could feel himself practically drooling. His tail swirled behind him, and his wings spread as wide as they could in the small hallway of your place. Hearing you nearing your climax, moaning his name, he could feel his pants grow tighter, his eyes dilating and his own breathing quickening. He couldn’t hold it back anymore, he couldn’t deny himself what he wanted a second further.

Slowly he opened the door, easily sneaking in and crawling onto your bed, you didn’t even notice until you opened your eyes, squealing at the sight of him.

“Dabi!? W-what are you doing here!? Why do you look like that!? What-”

“Doll, relax, I’m just here to give you what you want~”

Your face flushed a deep red as you tried to cover yourself.

“Aaaaw, don’t try to hide yourself, I heard you moaning for me~”

You whined, feeling the shame and embarrassment seeping into your mind. “Y-you did…?”

Dabi’s chuckle confused you as he fed into your embarrassment.

“Yes, and the way it sounded, and how you smell, is driving me fucking wild baby~”

He wanted to use this gift as much as he could, grinding against you, showing you how hard your noises made him. You shuddered, your toy completely forgotten at the real deal looming above you. You had wanted this for a few months after you met him. He was attractive as all hell, very nice to you, and he seemed to want you for more than just your body, unlike your countless failed dates.

But there was one issue.

He was very clearly not human.

Your mind was reeling with questions as he started kissing up your neck, muttering his praises to you as he felt up your body.

“Doll, I can almost hear your pretty mind running… Is something wrong…?”

You immediately snapped back into reality, where Dabi was above you, a slightly worried look on his flushed face.

“Ah- Yea I’m just… What are you…?”

Dabi chuckled, feeling that pit in his stomach grow slowly again, “Clearly I’m a demon, Doll… Did you make a deal with the devil~?”

Your cute little giggle warmed his chest as you shook your head, flushing red again. “Dabi I… Are you serious…? You’re for real a d-demon…?”

Dabi nodded, feeling a bit prideful as he saw you get flustered, “That’s right babe~”

“Why did you choose me…?”

Dabi’s smug smirk suddenly fell from his face, he grimaced slightly.

“Do we really gotta talk about this doll? It’s kinda-”

“Yes.”

Your sudden dominance made him chuckle, as he sat back on his knees, his tail flicking in slightly irritation.

“Alright alright…. I’m an incubus, and you smell like my next meal. That’s why I want you. I want to taste you,” He moves back to lean over you, “I want to feel you,” He gets closer, his mouth a whisper away from yours, “I want to fuck you full of me~”

Your cute shudder made him groan, and what you said next really made him weak.

“I want you, Dabi…. Please~?”

How could he deny that?

He smirked and licked up the side of your neck, taking another bite before kissing you. He’d never kissed anyone of his other partners before, choosing instead not to keep it nearly as intimate. But with you, he had always felt different. From the way you spoke to him, to the way you spoke about him to your friends over the phone, how eager you were to show him off, even if you weren’t official…

It really did something to him, and he was more than happy to give in to those feelings now.

After all, drinking in your lust for him was ten times better than what he fed off of with other people. Hell, it even tasted better than your regular affection tasted- He was drunk on you.

As you two kissed, you wrapped your arms around him, making him shudder against you. You were so eager, so ready, so excited, just for him.

“Dabi… P-please..?”

“Oooh, so needy… So, so needy… You little slut~”

Your face went red as he moved to start taking off his clothes.

“Such a needy whore, touching yourself wasn’t enough? Your little plastic toy wasn’t enough for you~? You need me baby~?”

His mocking tone was driving you wild, he could tell with how your eyes dilated, your bottom lip quivering as you moaned. When you glanced down at his dick, you could see he was pierced, making you flush even more. Dabi chuckled, rubbing himself on you, and he chuckled feeling how you were already so soaked.

“Damn, you’re soaked baby… Did you use lube on yourself for your little toy, or is it just because of me~?”

His teasing made you whine, but you couldn’t deny it, you loved it…

“Ready f’me~?” He whispered, leaning closer to the side of your head. You nodded, whining again as he slowly pushed in, making you gasp. He was right, your vibrator wasn’t enough for you, Dabi was far better.

He didn’t give you any time to adjust, already thrusting into you at an alarmingly fast rate. He was loving how you felt, fucking into you like his life depended on it, pulling out as many moans from you as he could. He bit into your shoulder, up your neck, marking you everywhere he could get his teeth. He wanted you to know who you belonged to, wanted everyone to know you were his.

As he fucked into you, he could hear you trying to mutter something, so he smirked, lifting himself to look at you. “What was that baby? Wanna say somethin’, hm~?”

“Love you…. Love you Dabi~”

That made him snap his hips, making you whine. He looked down at you, eyes wide with shock as you looked up at him, tears in your eyes, blush on your face, drool dripping down your chin as you whined. You were so much better. Because you were telling the truth. He felt his heart clench as you said it again, and he moaned. He gripped your face with one of his hands, kissing you as hard as he could, muttering how he loved you too, how he was close, how you felt like heaven. Your breathing was heavy, your moans were drawn out as you clenched around him, making him gasp and shudder.

“F-fuuuck- Oh fuck doll I’m-”

He didn’t get to finished what he was saying, cumming in you, pushing himself as deep as he could get, making you squeal, and making his smirk even wider.

With your heavy breathing, he pulled out of you and looked at the mess you both made, and he could feel himself practically drooling at the sight. You were shocked when you felt his tongue on you, and in you. You shuddered, feeling him lick you up and down, moaning his name.

“D-Dabi what’re y-youOoooh- D-doing-Aaah~”

He chuckled while his mouth was on you, making you vibrate at the feeling. Lifting off of you for a short minute, he winked.

“Cleaning you up baby, that’s what~”

You moaned again, covering your face with your hands as you blushed in embarrassment- You were so fucking cute, he couldn’t stand it.

“Y-you don’t have t-”

“Mmph-shut up…. Want to.... mmph- want you….”

You squealed again as he nipped at you, and he decided to take it one step further. Putting your legs over his shoulders, he gripped your hips tightly as he ate you out, devouring you in more ways than one. He was worried he’d hurt you, his claws digging into your skin and his hunger being satiated from your pleasure- What if he killed you, just like the others? He was put at ease as he felt your fingers brush through his hair, tugging at his roots gently, as if you would hurt him.

“D-Dabiiii… Dabi I-I’m- Haa~!”

He knew, he could feel you coming undone yet again by him, and he loved every second of it. The combined taste of the both of you on his tongue made him go almost feral as he ate you- Fuck, the smell, the taste, he could barely stop himself as you came again, gently lapping at you to clean you up, finally stopping as you whined. You were probably overstimulated.

When he was done with you, you grabbed him by the face and kissed him, and you didn’t stop kissing him. You pulled him against you, and while you seperated you looked up at him with a smile.

"Dabi… I love you, y'know that right?"

He chuckled, nodding- "Dabi, I'm serious. You told me about your exes, and I want you to know I'm serious."

"Yea doll, I get it-"

You held his face again, putting his forehead against yours.

"You better… Because I love you."

He sighed and kissed you, "Love you too doll…. I really do~"

You smiled, kissing him again. "Good, because now you're stuck with me~"

"Wouldn't want it any other way sweet thing~"

You giggled, sitting up and taking his hand. "What're you doing now doll?"

"We're gonna shower, I'm all sorts of sticky thanks to you. Then, we're gonna cuddle and watch that movie you wanted to show me."

He chuckled, "How did you know I wanted to watch a movie?" He asked, letting you lead him to your bathroom.

"You were talking about it a few days ago, I figured you'd stop by to watch it at some point."

He laughed at that, "Oooh, did someone plan for me to catch them in the act~?"

You winked, "Noooo~"

"Naughty thing~"

"Only for you baby~"

He would be damned if he ever let you go… His Mate.

Tags: @slayersins @shadowsandshapes @dabislittlemouse @dabislittlebeaniebaby @malewifetouya @the-milk-anon @shockinglysubmissive @elias-fable @starstruck-flames @daniidil @223princess

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #dabi #dabi x you #bnha smut #dabi smut #i hope you degenerates enjoyed reading

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kindersurprisebacterium · 4 months

Text

Bloody, Dead, and Sexy (DabiHawks/reader)

Explicit sexual content, MDNI

CW: threesome, knifeplay, choking, biting, spit, double penetration, rough sex, overstimulation, murder (not reader), blood

WC: 2.8k

Gender neutral AFAB reader

Title is the name of a band btw

The door squeaked as I pulled it open, rusty springs being nudged to life and quickly shooting back to a resting position. A rush of warmth from the space heaters wafted over my frigid skin. My eyes scanned the room before settling on a partially covered head of blonde hair.

“You got a light?” I asked, stepping toward the disheveled couch. The man reached for a pink lighter that sat on the fold-out table. He handed the lighter over to me. I grasped it in my frigid hand as my other fumbled through my pockets. I pulled out a single cigarette, perched it between my lips, and sparked the light. I held the flame up to the end of my cigarette and watched as small plumes of smoke began to rise. Pulling the light away, I held it out for the blonde and sat beside him.

“Kinda dead tonight, huh?” I mumbled as I took a drag.

“Maybe twenty, twenty-five. I forget how many I invited.” He spoke with a self-assured tone and a crooked smile.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I guess I didn’t realize you were the host,” I mumbled, looking across the room for an ashtray. “Let me put this out-”

“You’re fine, man, It’s all good.” He chuckled, putting his arm over the back of the couch. “It was mainly my…friend's idea to have this whole thing. I just wanted to get high and kick back.” He flashed a toothy grin and ran his fingers through his messy blonde locks. I quickly looked away as my cheeks began to heat up.

“I think I was gonna head out, but that sounds like a nice evening,” I smiled as smoke poured from my nostrils.

“Come on, you’re here now. Why don’t you join me,” he leaned in, eyes flicking across my face. “Take some pills and play games with me.” He plucked the cigarette from between my lips and took a drag. His golden eyes were locked onto mine. His painted fingers tapped against the cigarette as he awaited my answer.

“Okay,” I said with a small smile. He inhaled, hands reaching into his hoodie pocket. He pulled out a clattering bottle of pills and twisted the lid open.

“Open your mouth,” He mumbled as he took a pill between his fingers. My eyes darted across the room as an intense heat sparked in my face. I opened my mouth and watched as he placed the pill onto my tongue. I closed my lips around his fingers and swallowed. His fingers nudged my mouth open, aureate eyes looked at my tongue. His lips curled up into a smile. He removed his saliva-soaked fingers from my mouth, only to grab another pill, this time one for himself. After swallowing he took a drag from the cigarette. The embers had consumed most of it. He snuffed the ashes out in an ashtray. He quickly leaned forward, hands coming to push at my puffer jacket.

“It’s a bit too warm for this,” he spoke, eyes scanning up and down my body. “The pills make you feel warm too,” he pulled the jacket away from my arms and let it drop to the floor. I impulsively reached out and tugged at his hoodie. He chuckled as I pulled the fabric from his body. I couldn’t help but stare at his muscular frame.

“I thought you’d have something on under that…” I mumbled as I handed the hoodie back to him.

“It’s laundry day,” He shrugged, leaning in. He gripped onto the arm of the couch, caging me against the plush fabric. “You feelin’ anything?” He asked, chapped lips just barely brushing against my neck. A rush of euphoria flooded my senses, whether it was his touch or the pill, I didn’t know. I nodded. He pressed his lips against my neck. His hand moved from the couch to my thigh, tugging my body further down the couch.

“What was that?” I asked, hooking my legs around his hips.

“Oxy.” He smirked as he rolled his hips against mine. I could feel his stiffening cock through the layers of denim that separated us. I whimpered and gripped his arm. Just over the sound of our voices and the faint pounding music ringing from the house arose a scream. My body stiffened, eyes jutting toward the door.

“Baby, I’ve got you. Probably just pushed someone into the pool,” he slid his hand up my shirt. His frigid hands made goosebumps rise on my skin.

“It’s cold out though,” I mumbled. His other hand quickly yanked my jeans down my legs. I unhooked my legs from around his waist. “What if someone comes in?” I asked, gripping his wrist tight.

“It’s my fuckin house, I’ll do whatever I want,” he pushed my shoes off of my feet and continued tugging my jeans down my legs. Once they were off, he sat back on his shins, looking over my partially unclothed body.

“What’s your name?” I asked, grabbing his hand and guiding his fingers to the waistband of my underwear.

“Keigo,” he smirked as he began tugging my underwear down. The seams creaked as he roughly pulled the fabric from my body.

The door suddenly pushed open, I quickly grabbed my jeans and pulled the denim over my bare legs. My gaze darted to the door. A man with jet-black hair stood in the door frame. I quickly sat up off of the couch and pushed my body toward Keigo as my eyes met the splatters of blood that decorated his white shirt. The man dropped the stained knife in his hand. The metal clattered as it hit the concrete floor.

“Bitch wouldn’t stop running,” the man groaned as he stepped toward us. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to Keigo's lips as if he’d done it a million times before. Then his cerulean eyes dropped to me. My body was still pressed against Keigo. “Well you’re cute, ain’t ya?” He grinned, reaching out to grab my chin. “Forgive me for barging in so suddenly, but I think you were about to fuck my boyfriend,” his tongue darted out and licked across his lips. Despite my previous shock, I melted into his touch. My shoulders dropped, fingers losing their grip as I let my body loosen up. He leaned in, pressing his lips to mine. I gripped his shirt with one of my hands and tugged the bloodstained cotton over his head. He broke from my lips just to pull the tainted shirt off. Keigo pushed me back onto the couch. I waited as the two men sat on either side of me.

“Dabi, go get the lube,” Keigo pointed to a table in the corner of the room. The brunette got up off of the couch, cushions dipping as he moved. Keigo's hands pulled at my top. I let him slip the shirt over my head, leaving me completely bare.

“This doesn’t seem fair,” I mumbled as I undid the button on his jeans. He bit down on his bottom lip and watched as I pulled his cock out. Spitting into the palm of my hand, I guided my slick fingers over his length and began stroking him.

“Fuck-“ he groaned, hips bucking into my hand. He grabbed my face, pulling me close and smashing his lips against mine. The couch dipped as dabi sat next to me. His warm lips trailed across my shoulder. His fingers kneaded the flesh of my thigh. He tugged my leg so it sat on top of his lap, leaving me spread open. He spit onto his fingers and brought the soaked digits to my cunt. The tips of his fingers started moving in slow circles around my clit. My lips broke from Keigo.

“Dabi,'' I whimpered as I palmed his hard cock through his blood-stained jeans.

“You like that?” He chuckled as he slid his fingers down to my entrance. He slowly slipped inside of me and started a rough, slow pace. I nodded and leaned in to press a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to his lips. He pulled back. A glimpse of silver caught my eye. He flicked open a switchblade and pointed the tip at me.

“Use your words.” He grunted.

“I like it,” my words came out as a jumbled mess. “Mm, faster please,” I whimpered. He smirked and brushed the edge of the blade across my shoulder. He put pressure on the steel with his hands. A sharp sting pricked my skin. My breath hitched as his fingers sped up with every centimeter of skin he sliced. A flood of endorphins made my body quake. I clenched around his fingers as I came, gripping his wrist tight. My other hand stalled its movements as a haze washed over my brain.

“Keigo, I think we got a real whore on our hands,” Dabi chuckled, bringing his soaked fingers to his lips. He moaned and stuck out his fingers for the blonde. Keigo opened his mouth and brought the fingers over his tongue, closing his lips and sucking roughly. Keigo moaned and pulled off of the fingers with a pop. He stood up off of the couch and moved between my legs. I watched as he tugged me toward the edge of the couch. His hot breath tickled my skin. His tongue darted out and quickly flicked over my clit. My hips jerked forward, my fingers locking onto his hair. A burning sharp sensation on my stomach jerked my attention away from the blonde.

“Stay still,” a set of half-lidded cerulean eyes stared me down. He pulled the blade away and gripped the handle between his teeth. He began to ease his jeans over his hips. His flushed cock sprang free and hit his abdomen. I glanced down, noticing the array of silver that adorned his length. He gripped my chin tightly. The cool metal of his rings pricked my skin.

“Look at me, baby,” he smirked as he began stroking himself. I quickly glanced down at his cock. Another prick of sharp pain sprung up from my thigh. “Up here,” he spoke sternly.

“Mm fuck- sorry,” my voice was broken, my words came out as high-pitched sighs between breathy moans.

“You better be,” He said, pressing his lips to mine. Keigo slipped two fingers into my cunt. My thighs began to quake, muscles aching as I forced myself to stay still. Keigo moaned against my core, sending vibrations straight to my overstimulated nerves. Dabi pulled back, blue eyes scanning over my face.

“He’s good with his tongue, ain’t he?” He said with a sigh as he stroked his cock faster. I could merely muster up an “mhm” as my body lit up. “You gonna cum, baby?” He said, pinching one of my nipples. Again, I could only speak in broken, incoherent mumbles. My hips jolted, toes curling as I came. A desperate cry slipped from my tongue. I leaned against Dabi, my body falling onto the cushions as he stood up.

“You okay, baby?” Hawks asked, peppering gentle kisses over my cheeks. He slipped his hands underneath my hips and turned me so my body was parallel to the couch. He quickly stepped out of his pants and moved to kneel between my legs. I hooked my legs around his hips, pulling him closer to my aching core. Dabi handed him the bottle of lube and a condom before removing his pants. Keigo popped the cap open and drizzled some over the length of his now-wrapped cock. I reached forwards, wrapping my hand around his cock and smearing the cool liquid over his heated skin.

“You want me to fuck You?” He asked as he brushed the tip of his cock against my cunt. I nodded, teeth sinking into my bottom lip. His hand wrapped around my throat, fingers squeezing my carotids. I gasped, tongue lolling out of my mouth. “Want me to fill this pretty cunt?” He grunted as he slowly pushed the head of his cock into my entrance. “Fuck,” Keigo grunted. My blurred vision focused on the man behind him. His painted nails sunk into Keigos as he slowly sunk inside the blonde. Keigo pushed further in. His golden eyes rolled to the back of his skull as he started rough thrusts. His hands moved onto the armrest as he used the leverage to fuck me hard. My body bounced with the force of the two men.

“You’re sucking me in, baby” Keigos voice came out as a high-pitched whine of sorts.

“I’m fucking that cunt next,” dabi mumbled as he kissed Keigos neck.

“Mmf fuck-sogood,” Keigo moaned. Sweat began to drip down his forehead, rolling off his chin and down his toned chest. He brought one of his hands to my clit, index, and middle finger circling the overstimulated skin. My back arched off the bed. A suffocating heat wrapped itself around my body as I drew close to another orgasm.

“Harder,” I squeaked. The couch cushions began to creak as I dug my nails into the fabric. My head began to smack against the armrest with the force of his hips. My breath left my chest, mouth agape as I panted.

“I’m close, gonna cum in you,” he groaned, circling his fingers faster.

“Fuck!” The word fell off of my tongue, “cum for me, cum!” I panted. I gripped his biceps. Red streaks sprang up from his flushed skin as I scratched at his arms. His eyes squeezed shut, nose scrunching as he came. Static washed over me as my body was flung into another orgasm. My sore muscles and aching nerves cried for relief. The couch quickly shifted.

“Hey,” dabi tapped my face. The white taking over my vision began to dim, revealing the flushed face of the brunette. He was smirking, canines showing as his eyes flicked over my fucked out form. “You on the pill?” He asked as he pulled the condom from his cock. I nodded and leaned forward to kiss him. He bit down on my bottom lip before pulling back to look at me again. “Good ‘cause I haven’t cum yet and I wanna fuck you raw,” he said, lining himself up with my cunt, “you want that?” He asked as he toyed with my chest.

“Fuck me,” I mumbled. He stuck two fingers in my mouth, pulling my jaw down. He spat into my mouth, laughing as I quickly swallowed.

“Fuckin’ slut.” He groaned as he slipped inside me. He grabbed my calves and swiftly brought my knees to my chest, folding my body in half. He started a relentless pace, earning squeaks and creaks from the couch below us. “Oh fuck yeah, you like that?” He grunted as he leaned down to kiss me. His lips trailed down my jaw to my neck. I moaned as his teeth sunk into my skin. Something close to a growl emitted from his throat as he clamped down on my skin. He pulled back, just to mash his crimson-stained lips against mine.

“Babe, you want in on this? ‘Cause I’m about to cum soon,” Dabi spoke between grunts. Blonde locks soon appeared by my side. The two men flipped me onto my front, laying on top of dabi. The brunette pressed a kiss against my cheek as he slid inside me once more. Cold, wet fingers prodded at my ass. Keigo pressed kisses along my bloodied shoulder. He slid his fingers inside, whispering praises with every inch. I moaned and leaned forward to press my chest against dabi.

“They’re clenching hard,” Dabi said with a laugh as he wrapped his arms around me. “Put it in,”

I was met with a burning, stretching feeling. My eyes watered, clit throbbing as the pain blended with the pleasure of feeling utterly filled to the brim. The two started a slow pace as I adjusted to Keigo's cock. My voice was splintered, instead of moaning, I let out strained pants and clawed at Dabi’s shoulders. The slapping of flesh against flesh filled the room along with groans and grunts coming from the two. Their pace accelerated, and the movement of both of their cocks inside me was enough to flood my brain and scramble my thoughts. Drool spilled from my swollen lips as I approached another burning climax.

“Mmmf want me to flood your cunt?” Dabi babbled as his thrusts became erratic. Keigo's grip on my hips tightened as he began to lose his tempo. My body began to quake in one final release. A scream crawled its way out of my chest, accompanying the flood of sensation that swept across my spent body. Trickling warmth spread through my insides as the two stalled their motions.

“Shit…” Keigo muttered as He pulled out. A thud sounded throughout the room as he flung himself onto the other couch. Dabi held me tight, pressing kisses to my temples.

“Hey babe? Can we keep them?” He asked

#ao3 fanfic #fanfic #read on ao3 #dabi smut #dabi x reader #touya smut #touya x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha smut #dabi x y/n #hawks x y/n #hawks smut #hawks x reader #keigo takami smut #keigo x reader #keigo takami x reader

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snake-cabin · 1 month

Text

"Till Death, What's Left"

CHAPTER 1

Tomura & Dabi x Female Reader

word count: 23,000+

part 1 * part 2 * ...

(A quirkless AU where after fleeing a treacherous incident, you find yourself caught up in the company of two strangers who also seem to have just narrowly escaped their own horrors. Unexpected events keep the three of you crossing paths. Maybe it’s twisted coincidence. Maybe it’s fate. And maybe, just maybe, the three of you could make the perfect trio to perform a string of robberies with payouts high enough to change your lives forever.)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! concept inspired by the music video for “365 Fresh” by triple h, title taken from the lyrics, drug mention, drinking, sexual harassment/assault, violence, blood/gore, suicidal thoughts/actions, angst and trauma, jealousy, love triangle.

*i'm reposting this fic in hopes that it reaches a wider audience this time given it originally went up back when i was sh*dowb*nned. also because chapter two will be coming out soon and i'll be putting in a lot more consistent work into it throughout this year.

*ao3 mirror*

***

The alleyway was narrow, cluttered with stray trash cans and empty produce crates and abandoned pieces of furniture that were littered with holes, serving as a metropolis for the vermin that scampered through the dirty, downtown streets.

The clouds covered the moon, another storm likely on its way based on the warnings grumbling from the distant, low rumble of thunder, the air thick with the humidity of the summer season. Suffocating, almost. Each breath taken was labored, the acrid tastes emanating from the city laying heavy on one’s tongue.

And, as painful as it was to draw in air under normal circumstances amidst this kind of weather, Dabi was running, his lungs burning every time he forced them to suck down more oxygen. His spiky black hair stuck to his forehead and back of his neck with a layer of building sweat, his old black boots nearly falling apart at the soles, brittle laces threatening to snap every time he got lucky enough to tie them up again.

He moved quickly through the obstacles of the alley, swiftly— like the stray cats that were spooked back into hiding with the sound of his fast falling footsteps coming near— but not nearly quick enough.

From behind him, the shouts were always right on his tail.

At the most, their angry voices were only ever the turn of a single corner away, at the least, close enough to grab his beat up old black denim jacket and yank him to the ground by the tattered collar.

If he could get to the abandoned apartment complexes further into the slums, he could lose his pursuers, weave his way through the crumbling buildings, his long, thin limbs slithering smoothly like snakes through the maze of gaps and holes that he knew so well— almost as if they were merely the halls of his childhood home.

Dabi wasn’t accustomed to getting caught. In fact, he’d only ever been sighted twice before, back when he’d first taken to this life after running away at the age of sixteen from the city that now loomed in the foggy distance. The beatings he’d sustained from the rival gangs back then, the near death experience of having his head kicked in by men twice his size and strength paired with the metallic taste of blood running down his throat had taught him to abide by one simple rule.

Don’t steal from someone you can’t outrun.

And Dabi was fast. Always had been, whether it be by wit or physical speed. But tonight, after enduring the beginnings of withdrawal from his beloved painkillers, his vision starting to sway, setting his balance off just enough, he wasn’t on his usual game.

The real kicker of it all is that he could see them come into view— the silhouette of the rundown, deserted apartments only a block or two away— just before his next step found a deep puddle and his feet slid out from under him, body slamming into the brick wall of the connecting alley before the back of his head smacked down on the grimy, cracked asphalt with a sickening thud.

It took his chasers four more strides to catch up, jumping on him immediately and snatching back the cash he’d swiped before beginning the third— and possibly final— beating that Dabi had ever experienced on these harsh streets.

His pale, tattoo covered skin was split with streaks of red, bruises blossoming in deep blue and violet shades across his face and body with every punch, every kick, every deadly impact from the gang as they told him— promised him— that they were going to kill him for this. The blood mixed with the sweat and ran in rivulets down his face, his teeth grit so hard with the pain that he feared they might crack.

But Dabi didn’t beg for mercy, didn’t even ask them to stop once.

He hadn’t the first time he’d been in this situation, or the second time, and now, he almost couldn’t help but laugh after his enemies left him to die lying in that alley.

They should’ve killed me, he thought through his sinister hysteria. They should’ve fucking killed me.

Because pain wasn’t something that Dabi feared.

Pain was like an old friend.

When he knew it was coming— and even when the visit was unexpected— Dabi welcomed the pain.

Because the pain meant he was still alive, even if just out of spite.

But he needed to get more of his pills.

The pills weren’t the farewell to his old friend, pain.

The pills were an “I’ll see you soon.”

He liked the painkillers at night, when he was trying to sleep. Couldn’t sleep without them these days. But after a big break a few weeks back, Dabi had found himself with some extra time on his hands. More time to kill. More time to sleep.

So his nighttime hobby bled into the day, accompanied him through his afternoons and mingled with his lonely evenings.

Before he knew it, he’d found himself in a full blown love affair with the little white pills. His cruel, addictive mistress.

And he needed more.

He desperately needed more.

He’d do anything— had risked his life once already that night— and showed no signs of stopping.

After a while, he sat up with a groan of suffering, clutching his side where he was sure at least two of his ribs were broken, and braced himself against the cold brick wall of the alley to get back on his own two feet.

He had a bloody nose, a split lip, several other cuts and bruises marking his person, one of the more notable ones being a black welt under one of his eyes, the sclera dyed with red where a blood vessel had burst, contrasting starkly against his cobalt blue irises.

Dabi had already looked like hell on a good day and now…

Well, at least he still had his boots, even if they were falling apart.

So he kept moving, preparing to chase the next opportunity for cash.

Because he needed this tonight.

He’d lose his goodman mind if he saw the sun come up and his limbs were still shaking and his blood felt icy hot in his veins.

He was only a few blocks away from the nightlife district. Could practically see the red neon and blinking lights from where he staggered in the darkness.

So he started walking— limping, more accurately— trying not to scrape one aching foot on the pavement behind him where one of the bastards had tried to snap his ankle, and slipped into a shitty looking bar where the light was low enough that the other patrons hopefully couldn’t see his severe state of appearance.

“Hello, ladies,” Dabi began smoothly after clearing some thick, blood infused salvia from his throat, slinking towards the main bar where he saw two lone women drinking with one empty seat between them. He slipped onto the vacant stool and draped his arms over both their shoulders, limbs heavy with fatigue and radiating heat from the fading adrenaline.

They gave him varying glares of disinterest and disgust, but Dabi didn’t mind that.

It wasn’t the girls he was after tonight, anyway.

It was the set of shiny car keys that were placed oh so naively on the counter next to one of the women, the black and silver of the key fob taunting him, begging to be swung around his long, boney, tattoo covered fingers, tossed up into the air, caught, and pocketed as he strolled out of the bar and towards his new ride.

That oughta sell for enough cash to fund his drugs.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you both seem to be alone tonight…” Dabi’s lithe grasp inched closer towards the keys, slow and steady so as to not raise suspicions, yet it was killing him inside not to just snatch them and run. If not for the recent beating, he would’ve. “Might I interest you in my company?”

“We’re good, thanks,” one of the women shot back as she aggressively shrugged Dabi’s arm off her shoulders.

“Awww, c’moooon…” Dabi cooed condescendingly, eyebrows pulled together and lifted with faked disappointment. “Don’t be like that.” His fingers were nearly at the keys now. Just a few more inches and then…

“Dude, are you deaf?” the other asked rhetorically, also irritated at the unwelcome advances. “We’re not interested. Now get lost.”

And…

Just a little closer…

A liiiiiiittle closer…

Bingo.

“Alright, alright…” Dabi stood from the barstool, slipping his hands into his jacket pockets and beginning to step away. “Just tryna be a gentleman, jeez…” And then, just as he’d played out in his fantasy, as he exited the bar and stepped back into the city streets, he twirled the keys around one finger, tossed them into the air, caught them, and headed towards the car whose headlights blinked from down the block as the unlock button from the keys was sensed.

“Dumb bitch,” he chuckled under his breath as he turned the keys in the ignition, hearing the engine start up as the radio turned on, pulling out of the poor excuse for a parallel parking job and speeding off back towards his part of town.

As the high of his success coursed through his veins, he caught onto what song was playing and cranked up the volume, the windows shaking with the bass as “Audi A4” by MISSIO blared through his stolen car.

“I know you’re watchin’!” he called out with the loud song, approaching an intersection where the light had just turned yellow, pressing down harder on the gas pedal. “My A-Team’s rockin’!” There was another vehicle approaching from the adjacent lane, their light soon to turn green. “And I’m not stoppin’!” He ran the red light as he sung along, laughing to himself when the other car slammed on their brakes and held down their horn at him. “One! Two! Three! Four!”

And with that, Dabi had officially crossed back into his part of town.

***

You were just closing up for the night, working the late shift at the privately owned salon and barber shop that you’d gotten a job at by a friend of a friend.

You fucking hated this place.

It always smelled like mold, especially after it rained, and the owner always gave you the jobs no one else wanted to do on top of the job you’d been hired to do, which had originally been to cut hair.

No, your misogynistic, ugly bastard of a boss didn’t even try to hide it. He made it plain as day what his real intentions were in hiring you.

You gotta get into all the cracks and crevices, he’d remind you with a sleazy smirk, watching you with hungry eyes as you got down on your hands and knees to scrub the floor. If you don’t do it this way, it’ll never get clean.

He complained about having to come in to “check on you” all the time, yet always found it in his “busy schedule” to watch you do something as degrading as scrubbing in between the mildew ridden linoleum with a toothbrush. Always had something to say about what you wore to work, no matter what it was, and had even slapped you on the ass a few times before as a “joke”.

Too bad you needed this job. Wouldn’t survive without it. Not unless you wanted to go work at the cheapest strip club in the red light district just to pay for some microwavable meals and barely scrape by on rent.

Yeah, you fucking hated this place. You often spent your time daydreaming about burning it down as you snipped the dead ends off of people’s hair, fantasizing about slitting your boss’s throat with a pair of scissors or straight razor as he hovered nearby and watched you blow dry and style your clients’ new looks.

But tonight, just about ready to walk out of this shithole that you still couldn’t believe anyone came back to, let alone could find in its hole in the wall location, you let out an exasperated sigh when you heard the cheap, rust-rotted bells— one of which was broken— jingle above the front door.

“We’re closed!” you called as you folded the last cloth poncho up and tossed it over one of the chairs. Then just to yourself you mumbled, “God, can’t anyone read the sign…”

But then you sucked in a gasp at the sight of the large, lumpy silhouette that belonged to your boss standing in the entrance to the salon, clutching your heart as he startled you.

“I’m just closing up,” you began as you caught your breath, wanting to get out of here even more now. “What? You forget something?”

“No,” your boss stated sternly as he stepped further into the salon and closer to you, you instinctively taking a step back towards the sinks. “You have one final customer.” He sat down in one of the three chairs and you felt your stomach sink.

This motherfucker.

“Well, are you gonna do your job or are you only good for sweeping and scrubbing floors?!” he snapped, shaking you from your creeping dread.

You grabbed your scissors and comb, trying to steady your shaking hands as you draped the poncho over him.

He was watching you from the mirror, beady eyes glued to the little bit of cleavage that showed from your button up shirt, only ever drifting to find your thighs that were exposed below your jean skirt.

Fucking pervert, you cursed him with distain, snipping away at his greasy, thinning hair as your rage began to boil.

“Oh, and I want a shave too, alright, sweetheart?” he added, mocking tone proving that he knew he was getting under your skin and enjoying every second of it.

Once you were done with his hair you grabbed the straight razor and shaving cream, trying to remain expressionless as you slathered his face with the white foam, refusing to meet the predatory gaze that he kept trained on you while you worked.

“You better not cut me,” he threatened with a leer, flashing the gaps in between his crooked, discolored teeth, some of which were missing entirely. You opened the straight razor, the metal gleaming sinisterly under the fluorescent lights. “If you do…” His hand found your thigh, sliding up to squeeze your ass over your skirt, making you flinch and grit your teeth, jaw flexing in venomous vexation. “You’re not gonna like the consequences.”

Yeah, well you’re not the one with a razor to my neck, motherfucker, you thought with burning malice.

You could see it so clearly, practically feel it as you sliced the blade across his fat neck, skin parting like a hot knife through butter as dark, dangerous red spilled out and drenched his pit-stained polo with gore.

You were sure that no one would miss him.

In the very least, you and your co-workers— the few of them that you had— would be free from his fucked up definition of flirting.

But what would you do with the body?

Surely you couldn’t lift him on your own and you’d probably expend more energy than you currently had available to drag him into the alley out back.

And what about the blood?

You could try to mop it up but…

“What’s the problem, hon?” he asked in that patronizing way you fucking hated when he noticed you hesitating. His hand began to worm its way up under your skirt, a few of his rough, thick fingers sliding under the waistband of your panties at your hip. “I hope you don’t take this long with regular customers.”

Your grip tightened around the straight razor, face scrunching up in disgust and discomfort.

“Hey!” he snapped when you didn’t give a reply, his grip tightening on you as well, making you hiss through clenched teeth and finally shoot your gaze down to meet his. His sharpness softened then, as if he’d won something, another revolting smirk spreading across his thin lips. “Do a good job and I’ll make sure and give you an extra good tip, ok?”

You let out a slow, only slightly shaky exhale, and then, with the blade pressed to his neck, you began to drag the razor along his stubbly skin, careful not to nick him.

He took his hand off you— for now, at least— but that did nothing to ease the fury that was expanding in your chest.

It’d be so easy, the idea whispered ominously. He’s in no position to run, no position to fight back. You have him exactly where you want him. Exactly where you need him.

Like a hot knife through butter.

Once you were done, using a warm towel to dab off the remaining shaving cream, your boss rolled himself from the chair with a grunt and went to inspect your work up close in one of the many mirrors.

“Not baaaaaad…” he praised in a rough, sing-songy tone, again making a lump of anxiety settle in your throat. You tried to swallow it down before you’d have to speak to him again, if he found a way to get another response out of you.

He turned to face you as you refolded the poncho and tossed it back over the chair, huffing out a breath of annoyance.

But just before you could turn around to hurry past him down the short hallway and exit the shop, one of his big hands found your shoulder, startling you yet again. “Now…” Your eyes went wide with terror as his expression morphed into something violent, something that spelled more than just unwarranted touching or sexist remarks. “How about I give you that tip I promised, hm?”

He was pressing you against the sink counter before you got the first syllable of your protest out, your hips digging painfully into the edge while his growing erection rubbed up against the back of you.

“Stop!” you shouted, fighting to break free. “Stop! Let go!”

The straight razor sat open next to the sink.

“C’mon now…” he growled, pushing into you harder as he tried to hold you still, pressing your chest flat to the counter as you twisted and writhed under his grip. “Don’t be difficult. That’ll just make things harder for the both of us.”

Your blood ran cold, causing you to struggle harder, screaming out loud and shrill.

He slapped a hand over your mouth and you bit into his skin, making him curse and then rake his fingers roughly through your hair, grabbing at the roots and forcefully slamming your head down onto the sink counter, making you body shudder with the pain and then still momentarily from the daze of the impact.

The straight razor still sat open next to the sink, the glint of light off the blade blurring in and out of your spinning vision.

“You think I keep you around here ‘cause you’re actually good at cutting hair?” your boss taunted through a short, curt chuckle, undoing his belt as he kept you pinned against the counter. “Yeah, guess you’re as dumb as you are pretty, hon.”

You reached out, movements sluggish at first, and grabbed the razor, sliding it towards you.

“Maybe you should work late more often,” he had the audacity to say next, tugging your panties down, the sounds of threads tearing making your heart hammer in your chest with panic and your stomach turn with nausea. “Maybe, if you’re good, I’ll give you a raise…”

You began to push up from the counter, spine trying to straighten, the razor gripped tight in your trembling first.

But it wasn’t fear that was making you shake right now.

No.

Now it was nothing but pure, white hot, blinding rage.

“Little slut. Always coming to work dressed like a whore. You can’t exactly blame me for—” But the next insult was cut short as the deadly end of the straight razor buried itself into the disgusting man’s throat, his sputtering gags filling the space where his words used to be as liquid red ribbons spurted from his jugular.

You yanked the blade from his neck, a spray of red speckling your face and front of your button up shirt as you winced and closed your eyes, more of the gore spilling from his neck from between his fingers as he stumbled back and tried to apply pressure to the wound.

You watched as he tripped over his own feet and almost fell back into the chair he’d just had you shave him in, but missed by a couple feet and instead smacked the back of his head against the metal arm rest before dropping like a bag of rocks to the linoleum floor.

The razor was still in your hand, blood dripping off the end of the blade that reflected the bastard’s final dying breaths.

He gaped at you with wide eyes, reaching out with his free hand and seeming to be attempting to plead, to beg for help or mercy or any of the other things he would never have shown you.

But you weren’t a monster like him.

You weren’t going to leave your prey to writhe and squirm in agony.

Because you weren’t a coward either.

No.

For better or for worse, you were going to finish the job.

Like a hot knife through butter, huh?

Let’s find out.

You approached him slowly, careful to stay out of reach from his grabbing hands that would likely pull you down to the floor by your ankle and try to get the one up on you again in his final moments. When you realized just how weak he was growing from the bloodloss, you straddled his fat body, probably giving him one last hard on before it all came to an end. Because the next thing you did was drive the razor into the base of his neck, right where there would’ve been a dip in his collar bones if they’d been visible, repeating the vicious motion until his struggling had finally stilled and he lay there unmoving, his blood covering you both, the light having left his squinting, rodent-like stare.

You stepped off of him then, watching the blood pool around him for a minute or two before the weight of it all came crashing down on you. The straight razor slipped out of your hands, which were trembling in fear now, all prior rage-fueled vengeance gone. And it was the metallic clang of the weapon hitting the floor that finally pulled you back down to earth.

“Fuck…” you exhaled through a shaky breath, looking down at the blood that covered your hands, hasilty wiping them on your jean skirt with splotches of red before rushing over to grab all the ponchos you’d just folded, throwing them down and trying to soak up all the blood that was continuing to pour from his person.

“Fuck… Fuck… Fuck!”

Thank god it was closing, but still. The night would only last so many hours. Would you have enough of them to get rid of the body and hide the evidence before tomorrow morning’s clients came knocking?

***

There was so much blood. Way more than you thought there’d be, that was for sure. All the ponchos were ruined with a dark, rusty red. Discarded thoughtlessly in the dumpster out back where you’d painstakingly dragged the body to slump alongside all the trash it belonged with.

Someone would find him. There was no doubt about that.

But by then, you’d be gone. The shop would be clean. Or clean enough to buy you a little more time, at the very least. And you’d most likely have packed the few belongings you had back at your dingy, cramped apartment and skipped town.

You didn’t know where you were going but the one thing you did know was that you couldn’t stay here.

It had to be nearly two in the morning when you finally stumbled out of the shop, not remembering if you locked up behind you but not giving a shit at this point, hurrying down the short span of alley that would lead you back out onto the hopefully abandoned main streets, when the blinding glare of oncoming headlights stopped you in your tracks, causing you to freeze in the middle of the narrow road where a car was barreling towards you.

If it killed you, at least you wouldn’t have to deal with the cops hunting you down.

But it stopped with a jolt and a screech only a few feet before colliding with you, the driver inside slamming back against the headrest with the force before you both just stared at each other through the windshield with wide-eyed, surprised and terrified expressions.

Dabi noticed the blotches of red that were freckled across your white shirt, the smudges of rust on the faded denim of your skirt, saw the bits of blood that had dried in your hair and on your face where you thought you’d wiped the evidence away.

He turned down the blaring music and opened the driver’s side door, stepping out and looking at you for a moment as the headlights continued to cause you to squint and shield your vision with one hand, only able to see the stranger’s silhouette— a tall, lanky shadow with spiky, wild hair.

What he’d meant to say was get out of the road, but instead what came out was, “Need a ride?”

You nodded, trying to gulp down the remnants of the trauma you’d just been through over the past couple of hours.

“Then get in.”

So you did, having no problem listening to this man without hesitation— well, you had minor hesitation, but still— though you supposed that this man hadn’t tried to assault and rape you.

If he did, you wouldn’t have your straight razor, but now that you’d done it once, you supposed you wouldn’t be afraid to kill again.

But he didn’t try to put his pale, tattoo covered hands on you. Just glanced down at the blood that stained your hands and asked with a sarcastically curious, “What happened?”

“Nothing…” you shook your head, trying to hide your hands by sitting on them, feeling the still drying blood sticking to the underside of your thighs, staring out the window and hoping that he would become more distracted by the road than your crime. “You can just drop me off near the train station.”

The man, who you now noticed had tattoos not just on his hands but pretty much everywhere— the ink trailing up his wrists and arms, his neck, even some migrating under his eyes— along with cuts and bruises of his own, and bright, clear, damn near entrancing blue eyes simply put the car into drive and continued down the narrow side street towards where you’d directed him.

***

Tomura Shigaraki had tried to kill himself numerous times before.

He’d tried suffocation, drowning, pills, leaning off the edge of a bridge and peering down at the drop that was sure to end him the moment his body hit the concrete.

He’d tried— and succeeded— at taking his own life numerous times before in the safety of his own mind. Took comfort in imagining his lifeless body lying still, undisturbed on a sidewalk somewhere or, better yet, in the comfort and familiarity of his own home.

And, a few times, he’d tied a plastic bag tight around his head and breathed until all the air was sucked out only to then panic and then tear it open, taking in big gulps of air and coughing out his impulsive stupidity.

He’d gotten into an overflowing bathtub completely clothed and submerged himself beneath the surface, tried to hold himself at the bottom until his body began to convulse and his chest tightened in pain, only to then break through the surface and yield the same result as when he’d failed previously.

But tonight, Tomura had found a fool proof plan.

There was always traffic downtown, especially on the weekend when the bars and clubs and general nightlife scene was at its most concentrated.

So as he walked along the sidewalk in his beat up old red converse, one of the laces untied and threatening to trip him with every step, he tried to imagine which one would take his life.

Would it be a standard yellow taxi cab? A family SUV?

Or maybe it would be a nice, expensive, spotless sports car.

Maybe it would be red or black or— better yet— white. That way his blood would show up bright against the hood.

Yeah, a white ferrari might be nice, Tomura thought with morbid glee.

But as he stood at the crosswalk, the glowing street sign above his head blinking with the WALK symbol of the little minimalistic figure taking a step forward, he found the one that he really wanted.

It wasn’t a ferrari, but it was white. A Mercedes-Maybach S Class with silver detailing.

And it was going fast.

Even after the light turned to yellow, the speeding car showed no signs of slowing.

Perfect, Tomura thought, bracing himself to step out in front of it at just the right moment.

The street was empty, aside from him and the car, the late hours of the night proving to be a little less optimal for his death than he would’ve originally liked, but if this was it then so be it. Tomura was ready to die.

He was ready to not have anything around to stop him this time.

So he did it.

He jumped in front of the speeding car, his body slamming into the hood just as Dabi slammed on the brakes and skid to a halt for the second time that night— the second time that hour— nearly killing another complete stranger.

Tomura’s body flung back and rolled out into the middle of the street, laying motionless under the glow of the red light.

“What the fuck?!” Dabi shouted as he stepped out of the car, trying to assess the damage but not stray too far as he was still seriously considering just driving off. But he’d already stolen a car. He didn’t exactly want to add hit and run to his list of crimes for the night, though it’s not like it would’ve been the first time. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Should we help him?!” You were getting out of the car now, unsure of whether you should approach, seeming to be pulled towards the body and the car back and forth by an invisible line as you nervously shuffled on your feet. “God, what do we do?!”

“He threw himself in front of me!” Dabi snapped defensively, as if you hadn’t been sitting right next to him and seen the whole thing. “Fucking idiot! God…”

“Well, is he dead or…?” You now started towards the body as Dabi scanned the area, pulling on his hair with stress and frustration. No one was around but that didn’t mean the accident hadn’t been seen.

The scrawny stranger who lay in a heap of black clothing and shaggy, silvery hair wasn’t moving, but still, you couldn’t help but hold out hope.

“H-hello?” you asked once you were close enough that, if he was alive, he might be able to hear you. You knelt down to his level, leaning over him now, trembling hands hovering above his body like you were afraid even the gentlest of touches would shatter him, cause him to disintegrate to dust.

But then the young man groaned and flopped over onto his back, blinking bleary, scarlet eyes up at you. He had tired eyes, dark circles etched in deep, and a scar that ran over one side of his chapped lips.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed as the silver-haired stranger mumbled quiet, incoherent things under his breath. “Hey! Hey, he’s alive!” you called back towards the tattooed man who’d nearly killed you not long ago. “He’s alive!”

Dabi remained by the car, his body leaning against the inside of the open driver’s door with one foot perched on the floor mat, halfway to just abandoning the both of you here and saving his own ass. “Are you fucking kidding me…?” he asked again, though this time mainly to himself.

“Hey, can you hear me?” you asked the person laying on the road in front of you. “Are you ok?”

As Tomura’s vision began to refocus, his voice began to return to him too. As far as he could tell, he was mostly uninjured. His entire body felt like it was just run over by a truck— or, well, actually, it was a Mercedes-Mayback S Class— but other than the constant aching soreness that made it hard for him to move, he was otherwise alive.

Unless…

“Are you…” Tomura began. You leaned in closer to hear him better, his voice a raspy ghost of a whisper. “Are you an angel?”

When you smiled at him then, just a tiny, slightly amused yet relieved grin, Tomura’s eyes rolled back into his head and he let out an exhausted sigh. Or, well, perhaps he too should be holding out hope. Because if you really were an angel that meant that he’d finally succeeded in killing himself.

“Can you stand?” you asked him next. In response, Tomura tried to roll back over onto his side and push himself off the ground. Your hands tried to guide him, to steady his body until he was on his own two feet and had an arm slung over your shoulders while you helped him limp towards the car.

“Hey!” Dabi shouted angrily as the two of you approached. “No! Leave him on the fucking curb! I ain’t chauffeuring another person around!”

“He’s hurt!” you called back in protest, staring up at Dabi with a plea for mercy. “We can’t just leave him!”

“Listen. I said I’d drop you off,” Dabi sneered, glancing at the staggering stranger with revulsion. “Not you and some random guy who was dumb enough to step out into oncoming traffic!”

“Hey, where do you live?” you asked Tomura, who still seemed to be caught in a daze, his weight becoming a little heavier on you as his body began to slump. When he didn’t respond, you just looked back to Dabi and said, “Just drop him off with me. I’ll figure the rest out.”

Dabi stared at you both then, battling with himself on whether you were worth the trouble or not— as if you’d ever been worth the trouble— then gave a begrudging sigh, telling you to hurry up and get back in the car.

You opened the door to the backseat and helped Tomura slide in before running around and reclaiming your seat on the passenger’s side, Dabi taking off before you’d even finished closing your door and speeding recklessly down the darkened night streets once again, clearly not having learned his lesson the first time— or the second, for that matter.

You kept watch on the man in the backseat from the rearview mirror, who just had his head lazily rested against the seat, slouching down and not bothering to put a seatbelt on as he stared out the window with utter defeat. If it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of his chest, there were a few times you would’ve thought him to be dead with how still he was sitting.

“Hey…” you addressed him. He just shifted his crimson gaze to meet yours in the mirror. “What’s your name?”

He averted his eyes again, staring back out the window at the ghost town rushing by outside. “It’s Tomura…” he finally answered after a long, labored breath.

You introduced yourself in return, only getting a simple, barely detectable nod in response.

“And what about you?” you then asked the driver whose jaw was still clenched, back teeth grinding in agitation from the recent events.

“Who gives a shit…” he answered rudely, narrowing his gaze at the road before him, running another red light.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. You didn’t particularly care either, you supposed.

“Ah, shit…” Dabi then said as he noticed the gas meter running empty. You were about to ask him what was wrong, but then he continued with, “Who the fuck goes out with their tank this low?”

While he was throwing a fit over the dwindling fuel, you were starting to recognize the area, only a few more blocks till your apartment complex, but you didn’t say anything as you could feel the driver’s stress filling the atmosphere of the car. And, with this guy, you felt like a simple statement of “hey, my turn is coming up” would be more than enough to set him off right now.

Dabi cut down another side street where he knew a gas station wasn’t far. It was just outside the city, which you’d already been on the outskirts of, but Dabi wouldn’t be able to pawn the thing off if it stopped rolling the moment he parked it in the shady, underground garage of the illegal stolen car salesman he knew, so he had no choice.

And god he needed his pills.

He needed the cash first though, and to get the cash he needed the car.

Fucking million step process just to get some fucking painkillers, he thought bitterly.

But he could complain and grumble all he wanted.

In the end, he’d do whatever it took, just like always.

“Stay in the car,” he’d said in a way that sounded nonchalant, but you knew was an order, slamming the door shut before you could answer and going over to fill the tank.

You looked back at Tomura, who was still gazing out the window in a daze. You couldn’t help but stare at him, tracing the lines of his scars with your eyes, following the way his wavy hair framed his face and the cool light of the street lamps illuminated his pale skin, making his scarlette eyes glow even brighter. A vibrant contrast against all the monochromatic shades that otherwise painted his person.

“Hey…” you began, speaking softer that time, as if trying to soothe him. “Why did you do that?”

He didn’t respond at first, the only indication that he’d heard you being the slight widening of his eyes, the expression reading as if something dire had just occurred to him before dissipating back to exhaustion.

“Do what?” he asked with a bored, tired drone.

“Try to kill yourself?”

Tomura looked at you now, only his eyes moving as if the rest of his body couldn’t be bothered. But he couldn’t hold your gaze for very long, the intensity of your sincerity killing him in a way he’d never considered.

“Dunno…” he lied, giving an awkward half shrug, wincing in pain halfway through and gripping his shoulder with one hand.

“Well it was a stupid thing to do,” you scolded him lightly, causing him to shoot you another one of those feral, wide-eyed glares, head turning a little more this time.

“Yeah, and what would you know about it?” he challenged with a scowl, raspy voice a little more sharp now. A little more dangerous.

“I know that if it were me, I wouldn’t try to drag someone else into it. Especially not complete strangers,” you answered, now wearing a scowl of your own.

But you weren’t actually mad at him, per se.

The way you saw it, even though you hadn’t been the one driving, you still would’ve felt responsible if you’d just left him there alone in the street.

Besides, you’d already taken a life that night and one was more than enough for you.

So you weren’t mad at him. Just concerned.

Because, maybe, at one point or another you’d been just like Tomura. And, possibly sometime in the very near future, you’d be more than willing to throw yourself into oncoming traffic or off a building or bridge or, in the very least, swallow a bunch of pills just to make it all stop.

Because the sight of all that blood— the smell of it, acidic copper mixed with the chemical burning of the bleach stinging your nose— and the sheer fact that, despite the circumstances, you were indeed a murderer as of a few hours ago, well…

The full weight of that was sure to settle over you eventually and, when it did, it just might be too much to bear.

“Whatever…” Tomura puffed out through an exhale of annoyance, looking away from you and back out the window.

Only, Tomura actually did want to answer you. He just didn’t have the right words at the moment to explain it all— that sinking, empty emotion that comes with feeling like you’re completely alone in the world, of having nothing and no one.

Though, a few seconds later, he perked up in the backseat, noticing something amiss as his skittish crimson gaze scanned the scene outside the window.

“Hey…” he said, causing you to glance over your shoulder. “Where’d that guy go?”

***

Dabi walked into the gas station’s convenience store with his hood up, his head down, and his hands shoved into his pockets.

First, he pretended to browse the chip aisle, strolling slowly as he read over all the brand names. Out of the corner of his gaze, he noticed a security camera. He wondered if it was actually on.

The cashier leaned over the counter and scrolled mindlessly on his phone, used to only a few sporadic customers coming in during the graveyard shift. He hadn’t even glanced towards Dabi when he’d entered, probably wouldn’t have cared even if he’d seen all the tattoos that covered his pale skin, that ran down his arms and up his chest and neck and face.

Maybe he wouldn’t care if Dabi tried to rob the place, if he took all the cash in the register and ran off either.

Because Dabi was even more shit out of luck than he had been at the start of the night.

He’d lost that bundle of cash he’d stolen when those guys had caught and beaten him in the alley and the gas station console wouldn’t let him fill his car until he had proof of payment first.

Well, here goes nothing, Dabi thought as he sighed and marched up to the register.

The kid was still scrolling through his phone and it was only when Dabi aggressively cleared his throat did he glance up, face going white when he registered the man standing before him.

“Uh… Can I—” the kid began, but was cut off as Dabi began one of his most ambitious bluffs in a long time.

“Open the register,” he ordered with a growl, voice quiet but stern, pushing one of the fists that were shoved in his pocket closer to the kid, pretending to conceal a gun. “And hurry it up.”

The cashier didn’t hesitate. He fumbled with the drawer and laid its entire contents out on the counter for Dabi to take, backing up and knocking down some of the cigarettes from where they were placed behind the counter while the tattooed thief stuffed the cash into his pockets.

When Dabi was done, he just nodded at the kid and said, “Oh, and gimme one a those,” eying one of the packs of marlboros that now lay scattered behind the counter. The cashier tossed him a pack with a shaky hand and then Dabi left, rushing towards the gas console, feeding in the bills, filling the tank, and then yanking the pump out the moment he heard it click, not bothering to place it back in its holder before jumping in the car and speeding away with a screech, both you and Tomura staring at him with wide-eyes, hands gripping the safety bars above the window as your bodies were jostled around with every veering turn.

“Uh… What ha—” you tried to ask.

“Don’t…” Dabi snapped, making both you and Tomura flinch. “Ask.”

So you didn’t. You remained silent for the rest of the drive aside from directing Dabi where to turn once you reentered the part of town you recognized. When you told him here was fine, he pulled over to the curb. “Um… Thank y—”

“Get out.” Dabi cut you off. He wouldn’t even look at you. You hesitated for a moment, once again wishing that you at least knew this mysterious man’s name despite how he’d treated you, then opened the door to exit. “And you,” Dabi glared at Tomura from the backseat, the silver-haired suicidal a little more alert now. “I ain’t drivin’ you around anymore either. Get out.”

Once Tomura was standing beside you on the sidewalk, Dabi just turned the music back up until it was so loud you could hear “Johnny Wants To Fight” by Badflower in a muffled blast from inside of the car and sped off again, feeling more on edge by the minute and needing to get the stolen car to his contact before the police had a chance to find him first.

And then it was just you and Tomura left in a perplexed daze in the middle of the night a few blocks from your apartment, everything that had happened up until this point feeling like some strange fever dream that you still hadn’t fully woken up from.

“So… uh…” you began, awkwardly eyeing Tomura who was staring at you like an inquisitive animal. “Do you live around here too or…?”

“I don’t live anywhere,” Tomura replied. “Not anymore, at least.”

It had to be three, maybe even close to four AM by now. Tomura looked tired. You were exhausted. You’d both had the same strange experience and just letting him walk away felt wrong, like you really would wake up tomorrow and forget everything, all the blood and black ink and silver-hair mixing together before fading away entirely.

“Do you… want to come in?” you hesitantly invited.

Tomura then seemed to snap out of his dead stare, blinking a few times before answering, “Sure.”

***

“This is it…” you said as you flipped up the switch by the door, the lights flickering a few times before illuminating the cramped studio. Tomura just stood in the doorway for a moment, eyes scanning what little there was to look at before stepping inside. Neither of you really knew what to say now. What to do. When an awkward silence began to fill the space, you asked, “So, um… Can I get you a glass of water or…?”

Tomura then seemed to snap out of whatever daze he was currently in, flinching as he registered that someone was speaking to him and responding with, “Oh, yeah, sure.”

As you took a hastily washed glass out of the sink where you’d left it this morning and filled it from the lukewarm tap, you kept an eye on your guest out of the corner of your vision and rinsed the dried blood from your hands.

He was standing in the middle of the room, honing in on specific details like what books you had scattered across the tiny, uneven coffee table you’d picked up for free from the curbside when you’d first moved here. He studied the dying houseplants that drooped by the fingerprint smudged windows, their leaves and vines having given up on reaching towards the sun long ago. But, one thing he noticed above all else was the single photo you kept on your scuffed up bedside table.

“Who are they?” he asked when you came over to hand him his drink. He took the glass carefully in his hands, as if he feared he might break it.

You took a seat on the end of your bed with your own glass of water, sipping at it as you glanced at the photo. “My family,” you admitted, though wore a sad expression where he would’ve expected one that was a little more, well…

Actually, he didn’t exactly have the fondest memories of his family either.

You thought he might ask you what happened to them, if they lived nearby or if you guys were close, but he didn’t. Instead, he just nodded like he understood and then sipped at his drink while standing a few feet across from you, both of you looking at each other and waiting for the other person to say something else.

You wondered just how long he’d been alone. How long he’d had to endure silence before almost getting killed— then saved, if you could call it that— by you and that tattooed guy in the middle of the street tonight. You almost asked. Would’ve, if not for him speaking first.

“Why did you let me in?” he asked, intentions unreadable in both his face and tone.

“Should I not have?” you inquired. Instinctively you reminded yourself where you’d hidden weapons throughout your apartment— a letter opener in the nightstand drawer, pocket knife underneath one of the couch cushions, multi-tool behind the vase near the front door— just in case things took a turn. Tomura just continued to stare at you, his gaze curious, as if he found you just as odd yet enticing as you found him. “I mean…” you then recovered, “You said you had nowhere to go, right?”

He nodded, bringing the glass to his lips but pausing before taking the next sip, saying, “Did you know the guy in the car?”

“Not until just before we ran into you,” you admitted.

Then Tomura asked “Did he do that to you?” nodding at all the blood on your clothes. You realized that maybe it wasn’t necessarily you he kept staring at with wild eyes, but all the evidence instead.

You’d already nearly forgotten about it.

“Oh…” you exhaled, plucking at your button up shirt and noticing that the bright red had gone rusty now. There was no way those stains were coming out. You’d have to throw your clothes away or, probably a better idea, burn them. “No, he didn’t. That was…”

But you couldn’t finish the sentence. Not even with an insult at your former boss. You just wanted to forget any of it had ever happened.

Tomura then sat on the end of your bed next to you, staring at where the beat up old sofa was pushed up against the wall and gulping down the rest of his water. It was then your turn to study him, decode his appearance as if that would answer all your unasked questions. But, unlike you, his situation was a lot harder to read. He kept it carefully concealed under long black sleeves and faded black jeans, shaggy tufts of hair falling in front of his eyes and hiding parts of his face from you.

Though, there was one thing you hadn’t noticed before, when the only light you’d had to view him by was the dim glow of passing streetlamps or traffic lights. His skin wasn’t just scarred, it was scratched, dry and patchy around his eyes and forehead, eyebrows sparse and chunks of his eyelashes missing as if he’d rubbed them off.

Instinctively, you raised a hand to touch him, wanting to care for whatever condition he had— wanting to understand it better so you could help— but when he saw it coming towards him in his peripheral vision he flinched back, grabbing your wrist to stop you.

You both stared at each other with gaping expressions, scared for different reasons.

“I’m sorry—” you went to say, the words caught in a gasp. But Tomura didn’t look angry. He didn’t look like he was going to hurt you. Instead, he looked at you as if he thought he’d just narrowly protected you from something horrible, like touching him was some kind of curse you might catch. “I didn’t mean—”

But then he let you go, giving you back your wrist, which you cradled in your other hand, and looked away from you. “Sorry…” he mumbled, vermillion stare stuck to the multicolored shag rug hiding the partially rotting hardwood floors. “It’s just… I’m not used to being touched and I…”

Similar to you, Tomura also had a hard time speaking the things he’d much rather forget.

Then, without thinking you blurted out, as if you had just suddenly decided it needed to be freed from the cage of your body, “I killed someone tonight.” Tomura didn’t flinch at that. Just looked back at you with a gaze that either said, “I’m sorry” or “I understand”. Maybe both.

And suddenly you had this fear of rejection, like you expected him to lash out and call you crazy, deride you for committing such a heinous act. But instead he just asked you, “Did they deserve it?”

You cracked a nervous smirk, the fever dream you felt like you were floating in becoming all that more unbelievable. “Yeah…” you said, a stifled, choking sound that was perhaps the dying embers of a sob catching in your throat. “Yeah, he did.”

“What are you gonna do?” he asked next. You felt like the scenery around you was beginning to blur, the walls closing in tighter and tighter until they’d press flat against you and trap you in a cube of claustrophobia.

Your eyes began to tear up. “I don’t know…” The heat that was building in the room was beginning to feel suffocating. You buried your face in one of your hands, the other one holding the half empty glass of water starting to tremble. “I don’t know…” The air conditioner had never worked and even your cheap convenience store fan had broken recently. “I really don’t know…”

Tomura was unsure what to say to you, but he was trying to find the words. Any words. Any words at all to convey to you that you’d figure it out. That you’d be alright but—

But why did he care?

Why did Tomura— someone who’d tried time and time again to end his own life because he was so convinced that nothing was ever going to be alright for him ever again— care whether you sorted out your problems or dug your own grave?

Because she doesn’t deserve that, he figured. She has far more to live for than someone like me.

You were just crying now, your glass of water sitting abandoned on the floor by your feet as you hid your sorrows in both of your palms, body shaking even more as another wave of tremors wracked through your bones, sharp inhales peppered throughout your otherwise silent sadness.

Tomura wished he hadn’t stopped you from touching him earlier. He wished he’d allowed you to reach over and run your careful fingertips over his skin, the scars and the dry patches that cracked and split in thin slashes across his face.

Though, maybe, perhaps, if he could reach out and touch you, you’d allow him to try and care for you the way you’d wanted to care for him. As much as one hollow stranger could care for another, that is.

“They’re gonna find me,” you muttered, words garbled by the thick coating of saliva clogging the back of your throat. “They’re gonna find me and then they’re gonna—”

You froze when you felt a hand— Tomura’s hand— resting on the small of your back, peeking out from your palms as if to confirm that it was actually him that was touching you and you weren’t just imagining it. And he was tense at first. Not gentle and comforting like he had a feeling you could be.

But he was trying.

You were making him want to try.

“What…?” you eventually asked, Tomura’s startled stare becoming too intense for you to hold.

He then mumbled something, his voice so quiet you didn’t catch it at first. So again, you asked him, “What?” and when he repeated himself you realized he’d said, “I want to kiss you.”

You blinked a few times, trying to clear the thin film of tears that still glossed over your eyes, lashes spiked and cheeks streaked with drying salt. Your ears were ringing, and suddenly all you could hear was the buzzing in your head. But you felt your mouth moving, felt the gentle vibration of your vocal chords when you said, “So kiss me then.”

Tomura leaned in halfway, the hand on your back clutching your shirt in his fist, trying to conceal just how terrified he was of his own desire— for you and this newfound realization that maybe he did actually want to live, even if only just a little bit. It was overwhelming.

And it was kind of nice, the fact that he wasn’t trying to feel you up right from the get go and pin you underneath him like most of your previous one night stands tended to do. So you kissed him, and he kissed you back, but it wasn’t romantic or sweet. It was rough and desperate, both of you trying to leave proof on each other that the other person existed, that you’d met, that you’d both almost died that night yet had somehow ended up alive at the end of it all, even if one of you hadn’t wanted to.

Tomura had shaky hands. And they were cold, like they had no blood in them, like he really had died back there on the street and was just a walking corpse. They sent a shiver through your body as his fingers brushed against your ribs under your shirt, pushing up until they found the clasp of your bra, fumbling with it absentmindedly as if he wasn’t aware of what his fingers were tangled up in.

You reached behind you and undid it for him, both of you breaking the kiss and pausing for a moment, lips still almost touching as you panted into each other’s mouths and wondered if this was really happening. If you wanted it to happen.

I killed someone, you remembered again. And then I almost watched him get killed.

It was fucked up.

All of it.

Your life.

His.

And definitely the guy who’d driven you two and then sped off without a word.

All of it was just so fucked up.

Has been for a long time, you thought, going back to kiss Tomura again, this time trying to be a little softer, letting him know that you needed things to slow down a bit. But when your tongues met this time, you realized something odd.

Tomura tasted like nothing.

Now that you thought about it, he didn’t smell like anything either.

Maybe he really is a ghost, you thought to yourself with much less concern than you probably should’ve. Either way, you wanted to feel his lips on yours again, kissing him over and over until you felt like some of his rigidness had melted away.

“Wait… Do you really wanna do this?” Tomura asked then, seeming to be second guessing himself now that his thoughts had actually caught up to his actions.

“Do you?” was all you answered in return. You think you wanted to, though, you weren’t exactly sure why.

Does there need to be a reason, you asked yourself. Does there need to be a reason when nothing makes any fucking sense anyway?

When Tomura’s hands started trailing up your body again, you took that as a maybe. When he kissed you again, also being a little softer this time, you took that as a yes.

So you let him have you, taking no issue when he squeezed at your ass or pulled your panties down. Because you could see it in his eyes— this void, empty space where maybe, at one point, his true self had been.

You had also lost your true self.

You couldn’t remember exactly when or how, but you often felt like you were nothing more than an empty vessel, just a body wandering aimlessly without a soul to occupy it.

And at one point, you too had wished for it all to end, having run out of options for escape, tired of scraping at the bottom of the barrel just to earn another day in the pathetic game of survival you supposed you called your life.

But here, now, with this silver-haired stranger who’s name you’d barely learned, you felt like the embers of your dwindling soul were being reignited in its hearth, the flames that maybe would grow into a steady fire coursing warm through your blood.

Tomura didn’t bother with much foreplay. Didn’t need to. You were wet enough already just from some simple touching and kissing. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been like this in a long time— lying underneath someone who you actually wanted to give yourself to, not just shutting out the sensations as you went through the motions when you were late on paying your rent. But Tomura still prepped you the best he could, slipping two of his slender fingers into your fluttering hole and pumping them in and out a few times, scissoring them inside to stretch you.

When you told him you were ready— that you wanted him now— Tomura sunk into you slowly, feeling you clench around him right away and letting out a groan as his crimson eyes rolled back in his head. As he rocked his hips rhythmically, your neck craned and your back arched, breathy little moans escaping your lips.

“Tomura…” you whined as he brought his chapped lips down to suck at your neck, leaving behind his own personal constellation of bruises, biting in sometimes and pulling a gasp or another moan from you.

His hips picked up the pace soon, thrusting into you and making your whimpers come out louder, sounds of pain and pleasure filling the formerly silent, small space of the apartment. You didn’t care if your neighbours heard you. It’s not like you knew your neighbours anyway. Besides, you were still planning on skipping town soon anyway.

“T-Tomura!” you were begging, but for what?

For more?

For him to slow down? To speed up?

Even you weren’t sure anymore.

You just let yourself get lost in the touch of the man you’d only known for a couple of hours yet felt you understood better than some people you’d known your entire life.

It was almost like you needed to prove to yourself that this was still ok after what had happened with your boss. You needed to know that you weren’t broken, that any scars you’d gained from that incident would heal and fade away. Maybe he could be the bandaid on the bullet hole that was the amalgamation of every horrible thing that had ever happened to you. With how good he felt inside you, it sure seemed that way.

And Tomura, well, he’d almost forgotten the last time he’d felt anything, let alone this much of a will to live.

Because every time his hips snapped against the inside of your thighs and your silky, pulsing walls clenched around his cock, or he pulled another one of those sweet little sounds from you, whenever your lips met his or his lips nipped at your neck, the strangest thought occurred to him.

Maybe I don’t want to die.

He wouldn’t trust that statement in the long run but for now, even if just one very strange, very ominous night, he’d allow himself to believe it.

And as the two of you curled up under the covers, soaking in each other’s body heat, Tomura’s long, thin arms wrapped around you like you were the only thing he’d ever had worth holding onto, he thought to himself…

Maybe with someone like her, life is worth living.

***

“Why do you want to die so bad?” you’d asked Tomura after you’d both woken up that morning, both your hair tousled with sex and sleep.

The two of you stayed in bed until nearly noon, the summer sunlight that poured in through the spotted windows giving you both a warm glow, sun dust visibly floating through the beams.

“I don’t know,” Tomura had answered, though that time he hadn’t just used the excuse as a filler for a question he didn’t feel like explaining. “I just… It’s been like that for a long time.”

You’d kissed him— a tender, soft kiss that made Tomura feel loved for the first time in, well, in forever— and he’d tried to kiss you back in the same way, hoping that you could understand through the gesture that you’d saved him— were still saving him— from the black abyss of his death wish one touch at a time.

“I was like you once,” you admitted then, wearing a sadness that Tomura was used to seeing in his own reflection, one that lived deep in someone’s eyes. And then it was his turn to ask you why. “Because,” you gave a short shrug. “I’m never getting out of here— out of this…” You then looked around your apartment as if that summed up the entire history of your life’s problems. You didn’t necessarily believe in heaven, though, if there really was an afterlife of some sort, you just hoped it really was a better place like people always said. Even if it were merely a plane of existence where you wouldn’t have to feel any more pain.

Tomura wanted to tell you that you were wrong, that someone as beautiful and kind and caring as you deserved so much more than this, deserved to live more than most people. Definitely more than someone like him and definitely more than someone like that guy who’d driven you both around so recklessly last night.

“I’m sorry,” was all Tomura could think to say as he held you closer to him, afraid to let you go, like if he did you’d turn to sun dust and disappear on the breeze that was seeping through the cracked window overhead.

“Don’t be,” you replied evenly, sounding tired. “Besides, I’m still alive.” You looked up at him, admiring the way the light hit his scarlet gaze. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Before either of you could say anything else, your phone began to buzz from the nightstand. You wriggled from Tomura’s grasp to see who it was, your blood freezing in your veins when you read one of your co-workers name’s pop up on the caller ID.

“What is it?” Tomura asked when he felt you tense.

A million different possibilities rushed through your brain at once.

Did they find the body?

Of course they did.

Do they know I did it?

Are the police already on their way?

No, they would’ve already gotten here.

Shit, where did I leave my shirt? It’s still got blood on it.

“Uh…” Your voice shook and you cleared your throat. “One second.”

You threw your legs over the side of the bed, reached down to pick up the nearest article of clothing, which just so happened to be Tomura’s black crewneck, and slipped it over your head, the oversized garment covering enough of you to feel decent as you picked up the phone and retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you, as if the walls were thick enough to keep even your low muttering from being overheard.

Just play dumb, you reminded yourself before accepting the call. You went home last, but not too late. Only a little bit after the hairdresser who finished up before you. You didn’t see your boss. Just went home.

“H-hello—?”

“Oh my god!” your co-worker boomed from the other side of the call, making you wince and pull the phone back from your ear for a moment. “Are you ok?! Did you hear?! I can’t believe this—!”

Yep. They’d definitely found the body. But, luckily for you, it didn’t sound like you were a suspect yet.

You tried to swallow down any evidence of your so-called “crime”, attempting to sound surprised and confused, but not so much so as to expose that it was all an act.

“Someone stabbed him and left him in the alley behind the shop!” your co-worked continued in disbelief after you asked what happened. “Thank god you got home before running into whoever it was. I can’t imagine!”

There would be a more thorough investigation soon enough, you knew. The police would search the shop and find traces of his blood and probably the straight razor with your fingerprints on it. You could just argue that you’d had a customer earlier that day who’d booked a shave, or better yet, someone else at the salon would use it and mark it with their touch too.

But you would become a suspect. It wasn’t a matter of if, only of when.

“Are you on the schedule for today?” she then asked, and you could hear the flipping of pages in the background, your co-worker already working on answering her own question.

You knew you were, but there was no way in hell you were planning on going in. Cops were probably crawling all over the alley. If they stopped you for questioning, you weren’t sure how well you could hide the dread that was sure to show on your face and shake in your voice.

“I’m not feeling well today,” you lied. “Can you do me a huge favor? Take me off the schedule, cancel my appointments. I didn’t have many…”

Your co-worker said she would. She was a good friend, if you’d considered her as such before. She was always willing to check in on you, help you out when you needed it, but you knew she definitely wouldn’t be willing to sink with you on the whole killing your horrible, misogynistic, rapist of a boss situation, even if she hated him too.

“I wonder if this means our next paychecks will be late…” she sighed after agreeing to help you, wishing for you to feel better.

You both told each other to stay safe, keep in touch, and as soon as you hung up you let out a quivering exhale, a weight of getting through that conversation free of suspicion lifting from your shoulders momentarily.

You’d almost forgotten about Tomura until you exited the bathroom and saw him sitting on the edge of your bed, half dressed— aside from his shirt that you were wearing, of course— and beginning to lace up one of his beat up red converse.

“Hey…” You blinked at him as you stopped in the doorway of the tiny bathroom. “Feel like breakfast?”

***

“That’s why I was covered in blood last night…” You recounted drearily as you picked at a stack of pancakes, twirling your fork and watching the spongy food tear apart easily. Then one of your thoughts from the previous night returned to you.

Like a hot knife through butter.

You were losing your appetite.

“Well, sounds like the fucker deserved it,” Tomura commented with a lazy shrug, taking a bite of his own stack of pancakes, his loaded with blueberries and chocolate chips. For a guy who’d tried to kill himself so often, he sure seemed to enjoy the simple things in life.

You glared down at your plate, silverware clenched in your fists. “Yeah, well, it won’t matter what he deserved once the cops find out…”

“Hey…” Tomura’s hand cautiously found yours, fingertips barely brushing against you and causing your gaze to snap back to him. “They won’t find out.” But you assured him that they would, sooner or later, if you stayed here. “Then let’s leave. Run away from here.”

Let’s leave?

Run away?

As in together?

You didn’t think strangers who were this easily willing to skip town with someone they’d just met existed outside of fables and fairy tales. And you were still working on figuring out if last night was fact or fiction.

“I don’t know…” You sighed. “I just—” But as you looked back to the front windows of the diner, you caught a face you recognized slinking by, the tall, lanky, tattooed figure pulling the door open and entering the establishment.

Dabi stopped as he looked up and saw you and Tomura sitting in the furthest corner, huddled close together in the otherwise empty restaurant.

He pulled the hood of the sweatshirt he wore under his black denim jacket down to expose his spiky black hair. “No shit,” he scoffed, heading straight towards you then, sitting in one of the empty chairs and laying both elbows on the table comfortably like he’d been invited and was simply running late.

“What are you two doing here?” he questioned in a bored drone, then glanced at your torn up, soggy pancakes with that cerulean half-lidded stare and asked, “You gonna eat that?” You slid your plate towards him without a word and he began to dig in, ravenous, silverware trembling slightly in his hands.

Neither you nor Tomura really knew what to say. After everything that had happened last night between the three of you, what more was there to say?

“Why the fuck did you put so much syrup on this?” Dabi complained through his next bite, though he didn’t seem to mind too much with the rate he was shoveling the food into his mouth. His bright, azure gaze hopped back and forth between you and Tomura, waiting for one of you to answer his first question.

“What?” Dabi then snapped, a scowl forming on his brow.

“Nothing,” Tomura answered then, trying to act natural as he took another bite of his own breakfast.

“What are you doing here?” you inquired next, a bad mood beginning to creep over you.

“Uh-uh,” Dabi shook his head as he pointed his fork— your fork— towards you accusingly. “I asked you first. And what are you still doing with him?” He shot a quick glare at Tomura, seeming to harbor some ill will towards the man who’d thrown himself in front of a speeding car.

Or perhaps it was more the jealousy that the scrawny, silver-haired, scarlet-eyed stranger had gotten to go home with you and, even more, that he’d made a good enough impression to be invited out for breakfast the next morning.

“Well we were having breakfast before you showed up,” you replied with disdain, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Oh, were you now?” Dabi said with another sarcastic chuckle and a roll of his eyes. “Tell me, do you always prefer to dissect your food into a million pieces before you consume it, or is that just for special occasions?”

“What’s your problem, man?” Tomura then jumped in with a sneer, causing both you and Dabi to look at him with varying degrees of surprise. Dabi almost looked intrigued, like there was a challenge he knew he could win somewhere in Tomura’s question. And you, well…

You just weren’t used to people sticking up for you.

“Was I talking to you?” Dabi shot back through a low growl, his hand tightening into a white knuckled fist around the fork to try and hide his growing withdrawal symptoms, feeling his body temperature rise even higher, and not just from rage.

“Stop it!” you scolded, not wanting a scene to unfold. Now it was your turn to be on the receiving end of Dabi’s glare. “Just stop. What do you want anyway? If I’m remembering correctly, you told us to get out and then sped off. If you want money I’m not giving it to you.”

“Cute,” Dabi flashed his teeth at you in a mocking smile, shoving the plate, now nearly devoid of all its previous contents, into the center of the table. “But I don’t want your money.” He pushed his chair back and stood aggressively, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. “But it’s your loss,” he baited with calculated indifference. “I was actually about to invite you both to make some with me.”

Dabi began to stalk off then, but just before he could exit the diner, he spotted some faces that he recognized through the building’s front windows.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit…” he swore under his breath, whipping back around and pulling his hood up, returning to his seat at your table hastily, back facing the window. You and Tomura both just continued to watch him with an uncomfortable perplexity. “Tell me when they’re gone,” Dabi ordered in a hushed voice, but neither you nor Tomura knew what he was talking about.

That was, until two cops entered the diner, eyes scanning the empty room, sticking on the trio of you three for a moment and causing a dagger of panic to spike in your chest, before they moved on to take a seat at the main counter, calling to the waitress who was just coming out from the back and ordering two coffees.

“Of fucking course…” Dabi sighed, raising his eyebrows in lazy defeat as if to say, “this might as well happen to me today.”

“What did you do now?” you accused with a scowl, eyes darting from the cops back to the tattooed stranger. Though, again, after last night, it was sort of odd to think of him in those terms.

“Shut up!” Dabi ordered with a hiss, lowering his head a little more and trying to angle his face away from the cops. “Just shut up.”

“Whatever,” you murmured with irritation, now taking your fork back up and going to pick at what little remained of Tomura’s pancakes, your annoyance making some of your appetite return to you.

But the cops didn’t stay long. Just ordered their coffees, drank them while talking about bullshit, paid, and left. You and Dabi both let out a breath of relief once you found yourself alone in the diner again. Tomura had just watched the whole thing unfold with wide eyes and wavering interest.

“What did you do?” you pressed harder once it was just the three of again.

“Look, I’m in some trouble with the cops and some of the local gangs, alright!” Dabi shot back with simmering fury, though still kept his voice hushed to a hissed whisper. “And I need money fast or else, the next time they see me, I’m dead!”

“The next time who sees you?” Tomura asked, not sounding the least bit worried as he sipped at the orange juice you’d ordered and barely touched.

“Either of ‘em, dumbass,” Dabi retorted with a roll of his eyes, causing you to kick him in the shin from under the table which earned you the most feral look he’d flashed either of you yet. His hand was curling into a fist again and, for a moment, you really thought he was going to swing at you, but he just heaved out another exasperated sigh and said, “Y’know what, forget it,” before standing from the table, the metal legs of the chair scraping harshly against the splotchy floors. He grumbled to himself as he shoved his hands back in his pockets and prepared to turn and leave, “Should’a never stopped for you anyway…”

“Why don’t you just sell that stupid car?” you called to him when he was halfway to the door. He stopped and glanced at you over his shoulder, staring at you as if he was giving you a chance to continue. “If you need money that bad,” you clarified, nervously taking Tomura’s hand under the table. “Just sell your car.”

Dabi marched right back up to you, perching himself to lean forward with both hands lying flat on the tabletop. “You think I haven’t thought of that already?”

“Well?” you raised, squeezing Tomura’s hand a little harder and making him give you a slightly anxious side glance. “Why don’t you then?”

You and Dabi just stared at each other, searching each other’s eyes with matching scowls as if hoping to fish out some kind of weakness, see who would break first.

Finally, Dabi slumped back down in his seat again and sighed, tapping his foot relentlessly on the floor. “Because…” he admitted, partially with defeat. “I stole it. And my normal guy skipped town so now I’m shit outta luck with finding someone I can sell it to without alerting the cops.”

You were just about to say something like, “Well that sounds like a you problem then,” when all of a sudden Tomura cut in with, “I know someone who will buy it.”

Both you and Dabi gave him incredulous looks.

“It’s kinda far away…” he elaborated, leaning in a little closer to the huddle, “But I’ve done deals with the guy before and…” his words drifted off as if he was forgetting his sentence at the same time he was speaking it.

“And?” Dabi snapped.

“And he’s good with that kind of stuff,” Tomura continued. “Like, buying and selling illegal shit.”

You blinked twice, your hand still clutched in Tomura’s, who was holding onto you now more than you were to him.

Just who was this guy?

“If you’re bullshitting me,” Dabi warned, pointing a long, bony finger at Tomura, who’s crimson gaze widened even more, “then you’re gonna be the one who’s dead at the end of all this? Got it?”

Dabi should’ve known better. Should’ve known that, at least before coming home with you last night, Tomura would’ve wanted nothing more than for the tattooed criminal to follow through with that threat.

But Tomura was telling the truth.

Sure, he’d never bought or sold a stolen car to his contact, but he had obtained all kinds of drugs in the past, experimenting with what would bring him the closest to death without actually killing him before he’d made his mind up about actually wanting to die.

So Dabi agreed, all three of you leaving the diner— without paying, mind you— and piling back into the white and silver Mercedes-Maybach S Class, Dabi speeding outside of town towards the direction Tomura pointed him in, windows rolled down and music blasting all the way on account of him not wanting to have to hear either of you talk.

***

“Over there,” Tomura pointed out once a graffitied billboard of a crying woman warning against the dangers of drug addiction came into view. “Turn left at the next intersection.”

Dabi grumbled something under his breath before veering left and causing both you and Tomura to lean in the same direction with the sudden force. He then drove down a long, abandoned stretch of empty road for what felt like a long time. His agitation was growing, fingers tapping relentlessly on the wheel until finally he demanded, “Where the hell is this place?”

“Right up ahead,” Tomura kept promising. Your hand had inched closer to his in the backseat every time Dabi voiced one of his annoyances, feeling safer than before when you’d been in the passenger seat beside Dabi but still nervous since you were never sure what was gonna set the guy off. Finally, your hand found Tomura’s, his fingers intertwining with yours as he came to seek safety in your touch just the same. You gave his hand a little squeeze, the gesture becoming your unspoken sign for rising anxiety. To try and ease the tension that was building in the car, as he lightly stroked his thumb over the top of your hand, Tomura added, “Next turn that comes up. You can’t miss it.”

The next turn wasn’t for twenty more minutes, so you rested your head against Tomura’s shoulder in the meantime, his rigidness melting away after a little while, even allowing himself to rest his head against yours, his fluffy silvery hair tickling your cheek.

But finally, once the turn came up, you were able to calm down a little bit. Mostly because Dabi started to calm down a little bit. Though, as he pulled up to the place, it looked more like an old gas station than a place where someone would trade a stolen car.

“This really the place?” Dabi asked, glancing at you nuzzling up to Tomura in the backseat with…

What?

Jealousy?

He forced himself to glare back out the windshield as his grip on the wheel tightened.

“Yeah, pull in here. There’s a warehouse in the back,” Tomura instructed, lifting his head from yours and becoming more alert. “I’ll go and see if he’s here.”

“Right… you’ll see if he’s here…” Dabi rolled his eyes, veering off to the side and putting the car in park. “For how far we just fuckin’ drove, he better be here.”

“I’m coming with you,” you announced as you exited the car after Tomura, not wanting to be left alone with Dabi any longer than you had to. Tomura tried to tell you that it would be better if he went alone, that his contact could be a little skittish when it came to meeting unfamiliar faces, but you promised you’d be good. That you’d stay quiet and close to his side. You took his hand in yours again and then he agreed, informing you that it would be best if you didn’t touch anything, no matter how tempting.

“I mean, what does this guy deal?” you asked with a playful raise of your eyebrows and lilt in your tone. “Like, rare gems or something?”

Tomura hesitated, his eyes widening a fraction as he stared down at you. Then he looked away, giving a lazy half shrug and lightly scratching at his neck as he replied, “Sometimes. Depends…”

Before you could even think of a response, you were being pulled along by Tomura, who stepped up to the entrance of the warehouse and knocked on the metal door. “Hey! It’s me!” he called, waiting a moment before going to knock again, shouting louder that time, “Spinner! It’s Tomura! Got somethin’ for ya! Open up!”

Seconds later, a shady looking man answered the door with a disgruntled, “Jesus, Shigaraki, keep it down! You’ll upset the new arrivals… Already bad enough that all the semi-trucks come down these roads all the time.” The man, who you assumed was Spinner, looked you up and down and then back to Tomura with a slightly skeptical, “Uh… This isn’t what you brought me… is it?”

Tomura pulled you closer to him protectively before replying, “The car,” pointing a thumb behind him at where Dabi still sat behind the wheel.

Spinner glanced at you— well, the two of you, really— a little surprised to see Tomura so protective over anything, let alone a person, and one that he was touching so easily at that. Then he stared out at the Mercedes and nodded once, saying, “Tell ‘im to drive it ‘round back. I’ll open the garage and he can park it there. In the meantime…” He hesitated, then sighed to himself, the faintest smile detectable as he told his old friend, “I guess you guys can come in.”

“Thanks…” Tomura nodded, guiding you further into the warehouse which was…

Well…

The place was like a rat maze, each turn beholding another narrow hallway with an exhibit of luxury furs or designer handbags or power tools, all kinds of multi-colored pills stored in old gumball machines or clear plastic storage containers. There was one wall covered in vintage gameboys, playstations, old arcade units, some electronics that you couldn’t even place. But the part of the warehouse that you found the most strange yet intriguing was the room that Spinner led you to.

It was lit mostly in red on account of the many heat lamps placed in each of the several glass tanks which contained different exotic reptiles— snakes and geckos, poisonous frogs and iguanas. You were even pretty sure one of the animals was a baby crocodile.

“Still selling exotic animals, huh?” Tomura teased with an odd kind of fondness as he scanned the room, noting to himself the newest additions to Spinner’s collection from the last time he’d paid him a visit. “What? Tigers and Lions take up too much space?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Spinner shot back, as if offended. “I wouldn’t trade these no matter what the price. They were all lab animals. Test subjects for this and that. But recently another friend of mine caught wind that they were gonna be confiscated by some kind of animal control, so I took ‘em instead.” Spinner reached in and grabbed up one of the lizards, which rested calmly along his wrist as he gently stroked the top of its head. “Poor little guys have been through a lot…”

“Right, so, the car?” Tomura redirected. “Will you buy it?”

The dealer’s affection for his reptiles faded back into an attitude of business as he placed his hand back into the tank, allowing the lizard to crawl down and scurry back into its little cave as he said, “Gotta check a few things and then I’ll let you know. Your friend should be around back by now. Guess I should go meet ‘im.”

“He’s not my friend,” Tomura finally admitted, pulling you a little closer to his side as you continued to gaze around the reptile room in awe.

“Who is ‘e then? Someone we can trust at least, right?”

Tomura bit his tongue to try and suppress a nervous smirk, one of his hands clenching into a fist as it threatened to dig into his skin as he lied, “Somethin’ like that…”

“It’s complicated,” you chimed in, both Tomura and Spinner’s gazes snapping towards you. Neither of them said anything so you went on a little more nervously with, “W-well… The three of us sort of just… ran into each other the other night and—”

“Ah, c’mon, Shigaraki…” Spinner sighed with irritation. “How many times have I told you to only bring people you know here. Need I remind you what happened that one time with that guy who ended up being an undercover cop?”

“Trust me, this guy’s definitely not a cop,” Tomura assured his friend, removing his touch from you and migrating closer to Spinner, pleading his case. “If anything, he’s a first rate asshole, but other than that…” Tomura shrugged. “Guy has his own reasons for needing the cash.”

“So you’re splitting it?” Spinner asked, seeming to warn Tomura with the raise of his eyebrows that that was a bad idea. Tomura gave a hand gesture that said something along the lines of sort of, not really, who knows and a wincing expression. “Does he know that?”

The two of them began to leave the room, and you were staring at Tomura as if he’d look back and tell you to sit tight until he returned, that everything was ok, but he just kept on walking, chatting away with his friend while you sought refuge on the tiny sofa in the center of the room and basked in the red glow and many slithering silhouettes of the snakes in the tanks.

It felt like a long time until you finally heard footsteps approaching down the way that Tomura and Spinner had gone off in. Though, instead of silvery tufts and crimson eyes rounding the corner, you were met with inky black and smoldering sapphire.

Dabi was smoking a cigarette. Must’ve just lit it with how he was fidgeting with the silver lighter, a soft metallic clang tapping out irregularly. “Well, it’s just one fuckin’ surprise after another in this place, ain’t it?” he remarked with a sarcastic scoff, plopping down on the couch next to you, stretching his arms out over the back and looking around at all the scaled creatures with carefully concealed awe. He blew out a cloud of thick smoke, the smell making your nose wrinkle as you scooted away a few inches. You wanted to tell him he probably shouldn’t smoke in here on account of all the animals but, who were you kidding, it’s not like he would’ve cared.

“Where’s Tomura?” you asked, a slight twinge of worry laced into your voice.

“Your Romeo’s out with that other guy inspecting the car,” he replied dismissively through a yawn. “They better hurry it up. I want my money…”

“I think you mean our money.” You’d meant it to come out sounding much stronger than it really had— more of a declaration than a timid reminder— and your confidence dwindled even more when Dabi shot you a narrowing glare.

“What are you talking about? I’m the one who stole it. Hell, I drove you two around in it all night. You guys owe me.” He scoffed to himself again, wearing a cold smirk and slightly adjusting his position on the couch. Under his breath he muttered, “Our money… Please.”

Perhaps it was the fact that you’d killed someone or just that you were getting really fed up with this guy, but something had suddenly possessed you to argue back, “Yeah, and without Tomura you never would’ve had somewhere to sell the car. Remember that?”

Dabi shifted his position to face you better now, rage lighting up being his eyes while his tone remained low and even, a volcano always on the verge of erupting. “And tell me, how do you come into all this? ‘Cause as far as I’m concerned, you’re just some bitch I found covered in blood wandering the streets in the middle of the night. What’d you do? Slash some guy who got a little too rough with you? Or, wait, maybe your story is that he tried to attack you first and somehow you got the upper hand.”

You felt an unpleasant burning in the back of your nose. The tightening of your throat. Tears prickling at the edges of your vision. But you weren’t about to cry because you were offended. You were about to cry because you were furious.

Because this guy didn’t know a goddamn thing.

And, even if he did— even if you told him the truth— he still wouldn’t care.

As long as he got his drugs at the end of all of this, why should he?

“You don’t know anything,” you growled, rage cutting through your trembling fear that yes, you were a indeed a murderer. And one soon to be at large once the cops did a little more investigating.

Dabi leaned in, pupils mere pinpricks as all that bright cerulean threatened to swallow you whole. “Then just fuckin’ tell me already.”

But you were leaning in too, you now realized, your shared trait of living hard, unfortunate lives pulling you together like two mistreated magnets, however resistant you tried to be.

And as Dabi stared you down that time, you realized that something had changed— or rather, was changing— behind that piercing cobalt stare of his. It made you reconsider that maybe, if you just filled in the gaps, he would understand. He would care.

Or maybe he’d just turn you over to the authorities for ransom and call it a day.

“My boss…” you swallowed, mouth coated in thick, sticky spit. “He tried to— He almost…” You let out a frustrated sigh, a shiver skittering through your bones as you replayed the events of less than twenty-four hours ago in your head. If you focused hard enough, you could still smell that pungent metallic tang of all the blood, feel his thick fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. “I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t kill him, he would’ve killed me, sooner or later.”

Dabi was slowly nodding his head. And, for a moment, you thought maybe he did understand. But when he opened his mouth and asked, “So, you are a whore or…?” you rolled your eyes and let out a frustrated groan.

“I’m a hairdresser!” You snapped, wiping more tears away as you sniffled, scowl deepening. “Or at least…” your gaze became far off, staring into the tank of a komodo dragon in a daze as you concluded, “I used to be.”

And then Dabi actually laughed.

He was trying to stifle a series of cruel, amused chuckles as you shot him a look of fiery resentment, about to say something horrible to him before he piped up with a teasing, “And to think, you had the worst crime out of all of us the entire time!”

“It’s not funny!” you scolded, both your raised voice and Dabi’s incessant cackling stirring the reptiles. “I was just defending myself! But now I’m probably going to jail! How do you think that feels, huh? How do you think it feels to not have anywhere to go or anyone to rely on right now?”

Dabi’s laughter suddenly ceased, as fast as a flame blown out by a quick, strong breath. His face became blanker than you’d ever seen it, completely serious as he replied, “Probably pretty fuckin’ shitty. But y’know what. That’s life, ain’t it? No one’s ever really there to save you.” He leaned in closer, looming over you, his shadow casting across your form and making you disappear into the darkness that filled the red room. “All you ever really have is yourself,” he went on, his simmering anger boiling hotter and hotter with each new sentence. “And that’s what happens to the weak ones. They can’t protect themselves when worse comes to worst. Because there’s never gonna be any grand hero to swoop in to your rescue. And the sooner we all realize that, the better. So quit your fuckin’ crying—” He was pointing a finger at you now, tears having started streaming down your face again without you even realizing it. “Grow the fuck up, and figure out what you’re gonna do about it. ‘Cause you’re all you got. Understand?”

Your entire body was shaking and, staring up at him in the eerie red light, a dangerous glint shining in his eyes, Dabi really looked like a monster. But you’d slayed one of those before. If you had a straight razor, you could do it again. Though, you didn’t really want to be a killer. Or rather, you didn’t want to get used to killing. Because you still believed that you were a good person, that you maybe even deserved good things.

You’d crossed a line, sure. One that, in the eyes of society, would spell irreversible damage.

But wasn’t that always the way these kinds of things played out? By showing you one atrocity only to prepare you for another, much more traumatizing one? Constantly reminding you, it could all be much worse?

“But don’t worry…” Dabi side eyed you as he said, “I won’t rat you out. People like you and me, we gotta do what we need to in order to survive.” He leaned forward to place his silver lighter on the coffee table, taking another long drag to calm his nerves.

“Thanks…” but there is no you and me, you wanted to say. Instead, you just scooted a few inches away from him, hoping Tomura would come back soon.

Until he and Spinner returned, however, you and Dabi opted for awkward silence. You were just trying not to think about the blood on your hands, even if the bastard had deserved it. Dabi though…

Dabi’s mind was in a much different place.

Because as he’d peered down at you in the redlight, the dim patch of fluorescent illumination directly above the couch that the room allowed shimmering in your big, terrified eyes…

He’d realized that what he’d felt spike in his chest when he’d glanced at you and Tomura cuddling in the backseat was indeed jealousy, the emotion slowly seething into his skin only to inevitably radiate from him if he didn’t find a way to cure it soon.

And the other night when he’d kicked you and Tomura out of the car and sped off. That had been a mistake, hadn’t it? What he should’ve done was dumped that silver-haired suicidal off on the curb and insisted on driving you home. Maybe then it could’ve been him sharing pancakes with you at the diner instead. Maybe then it would’ve just been the two of you splitting the money and not this useless third party who was going to spend it on who knows what useless shit.

Dabi clenched his jaw, trying to keep himself from sneaking another glance at you but, just like when it came to his addiction, he didn’t have much self control.

Whatever, he tried to convince himself. Once this deal is done, we’ll all go our separate ways and never have to see each other again.

Only, what if that wasn’t true. What if that was only true for him, and you and Tomura went back to your apartment or some motel or, fuck it, you’d have money, you could get a room somewhere nice, and fucked again.

Just the thought of that grungy loser’s hands all over you was making Dabi start to lose his cool. And you’d let Tomura kiss you too? Let him run his tongue all over the inside of your mouth and down your neck and inside your tight little pussy? Disgusting.

Bet I could make you feel better than he did, Dabi thought to himself as his leg began to bounce anxiously. Bet I could fuck you so good you’d forget you’d ever met him.

But then, before Dabi could start to really spin out of control from the jealousy and withdrawal, Spinner and Tomura reenerted the reptile room, both you and Dabi looking over and awaiting that fateful number.

“So, I took a look and…” Spinner began, pretending to hold you and Dabi in suspense while the smirk on Tomura’s face said he already knew the price you’d be splitting three ways. “It’s in pretty good condition. Whoever you stole it from must’ve just bought it and, based on the paper plates, it had to have been within the last thirty days. I’ll give you twenty thousand. Three ways that’s—”

“Over six thousand each…” you breathed out in sheer disbelief. That was more cash than you’d ever had in your bank account, let alone all at once.

You couldn’t fathom it. The thought of what you could do with that much money. The thought of getting out of that shitty apartment and moving to a better part of the city, one where you could get hired at a salon that was much more high end than the back alley one you’d been previously employed at…

If you hadn’t killed someone, that is.

If you weren’t soon to be a wanted criminal.

“That’s right,” Spinner confirmed, taking out a thick envelope and handing it off to Tomura who looked pretty proud of himself.

Dabi, however, was not as pleased…

“Twenty thousand?” he asked, standing and tossing his half finished cigarette down onto the concrete floor of the warehouse, stomping it out with his first stride towards the dealer. “Nah. No way. Things worth at least one hundred thousand new. Maybe even more than that.”

“Sorry,” Spinner shrugged. “That’s as high as I can go.”

Dabi’s hands clenched into fists by his sides and you were sure he was finally going to throw that punch he’d been holding back all this time. So you intervened again, saying, “That’s more than enough to get your drugs.” Dabi looked over his shoulder lightning fast, that vengeful and violent shine back in his eyes and honed in right on you. Meanwhile, Tomura was ready to jump between you two if Dabi really did lose his temper.

“Cute,” Dabi spit, whirling back towards Tomura and his friend before eying the envelope containing the cash. He could just steal it. Yeah. Once the three of you were out of here, Dabi could take it and run. “And you,” he nodded aggressively at Tomura. “What the hell do you need it for, huh?”

Tomura’s eyes widened a bit, his jaw clenched as he gripped the envelope tighter, Dabi taking a step towards him. He then opened his mouth to throw a hostile reply right back, but no words came.

In truth, he didn’t know.

Before meeting you, Tomura probably would’ve blown it all on one hell of a self-destructive night before finally pulling the trigger and ending it all. But now…

Well, he’d have to figure that out once he discovered what you were planning to do.

“What?” Dabi smirked, cruelty seeping back into his voice. “You gonna pay someone off to perform a hit on you or somethin’?”

Tomura warned with a growl, “Don’t test me…” his eyes going wide, though this time in a much more feral, dangerous way than before. Then, ever so slowly, he placed the cash in his back pocket. He could take it and run too, if he wanted. He just had to get past Dabi to grab you first.

“Guys…?” you spoke, sensing the growing tension and hoping to calm things before they really spiraled out of control. “C’mon. We got the money. Now let’s just go…”

Dabi ignored you, clearly occupied on setting Tomura off before calling it quits with the little ragtag trio the team of you had formed. And part of him, whether he realized it or not, wanted you to see that, just because Tomura had remained relatively calm during all the recent chaos, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t capable of flying off the hinges too.

Because what was that saying again?

Always watch out for the quiet ones?

“Y’know, I’m not really convinced that someone like you even deserves that kind of money,” Dabi went on. Spinner was getting fed up with this quarrel too, though his concern was more for the fact that all this bad energy swirling in the room was bound to upset his replies than if one of the boys left here with a black eye. “So why don’t you just do the right thing and give it to me and the girl so we can get on with our lives while you keep trying to end yours.”

“Just stop it!” you’d tried to shout out, but it was too late.

Tomura moved fast.

Too fast.

Just a blur of black and silver and crimson, a snarl echoing off the concrete and eyes flashing with ill intent as he lunged at Dabi, the force sending both of them falling to the ground.

It was clear to everyone in the room that Tomura had never been in a real fight before, the way he wildly and clumsily threw punches that Dabi blocked with mocking ease. It wasn’t long until Dabi gained the upper hand and flipped the scrawny, scraggly boy on his back, jumping on top of him and showing him what a real punch looked and felt like.

Spinner was shouting. You were crying, screaming at the two of them to “Please stop! Knock it off already!” and Tomura and Dabi were rolling and clawing and cursing at each other while fighting for possession of that damn envelope.

The three of you were once again plunged into connected chaos, though this time none of you seemed to know how to rescue each other.

Eventually, the envelope slid from both their gasps and landed right in front of you. In a moment of panic and impulse, you grabbed it up and then snatched the lighter Dabi had left on the coffee table, flicking it open and producing a flame, holding it dangerously close to the cash and bellowing out, “BOTH OF YOU STOP OR I— I’M BURNING IT!”

All of the oxygen in the room felt like it had been sucked out at once.

Even Spinner was holding his breath, as if he had something to lose.

“Are you fucking crazy?!” Dabi shouted, voice cracking with a shriek upturning at the end.

“Get off him or I swear I’ll do it!” And you weren’t bluffing, the flame kissing the edge of the envelope and beginning to toast the crinkled paper, causing Dabi to obey instantly, holding his hands up in surrender and stepping off Tomura, who was coughing from when Dabi had closed his hands around his throat.

And Dabi only hated Tomura more now.

He’d hated him from the very first moment his stolen car had nearly run the suicidal maniac over in the street. He’d hated him when he’d dropped you two off near your apartment and sped off with the music blaring, just knowing that the two of you were going to fuck. He’d hated him when he’d seen you sharing pancakes at the diner just earlier that morning. And he’d hated him when he’d seen him rest his head on top of yours in the rear view mirror like two lovesick puppies leeching warmth off each other.

He hated that you were willing to throw away life changing amounts of cash just to save Tomura from a black eye and some broken ribs. Hated that you cared more about the silver-haired freak than the bigger picture here— the picture that he was soon to be painted out of.

Because time after time, Dabi had lost in life. He’d lost, most times, because he fell in with bad company or couldn’t run fast enough when a job went south. He’d lost because he’d become a slave to his addiction and couldn’t give two shits about correcting it. And he’d had the perfect opportunity to be the one you’d invited back to your apartment, the one you’d shared shitty diner food with, and the one you’d curl up in the car with, but he’d blown it because he just couldn’t let himself have anything good without thinking there was going to be a catch.

“Just give me the lighter…” Dabi spoke softly to you now, as if talking you off a ledge, one hand extending for you to toss the zippo into, or, in another world, take hold of.

You hesitated, slowly but surely lowering the flame, dropping the lighter to the floor as you drew in frantic, uneven breaths. With one hand clutching his ribs, which were likely bruised after that altercation, Tomura pushed himself to his feet and came over to stand before you, saying something to you quiet enough that Dabi couldn’t hear. But you handed Tomura back the envelope and that’s all that really mattered in the end, right?

“Let’s just get out of here,” Tomura spoke louder now, turning to address Dabi as well. “It’s a long walk back into the city.”

And with that, the three of you left the odd maze of Spinner’s contraband castle and headed back down the long stretch of abandoned highway that you’d come, the sun already beginning to sink towards the horizon before you were halfway home.

***

All three of you were exhausted, mentally and physically, and exchanged minimal conversation throughout your trek back towards civilization before Dabi just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Does he know?” he asked, nodding his head from you to Tomura.

“Know what?” you asked, though you already had a pretty good idea about what he was alluding to.

“Oh, so he doesn’t know…”

“He does know,” you sighed, exasperated. Meanwhile, Tomura just made sure the envelope of cash was kept out of Dabi’s reach.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Dabi then asked Tomura directly, nudging him a little and causing him to flinch away.

“Cut it out, man,” Tomura rasped, a slight grimace flashing across his features before fatigue reclaimed them.

“Whatever…” Dabi rolled his eyes, a certain mischievous lilt to his tone, edging Tomura on and grasping at straws to find any reason to cause a rift between you two. “I just know that if I was gonna fuck some random girl, I’d wanna know whether I was stickin’ my dick in a murderer or n—”

Again, Tomura moved unexpectedly fast, a cloud of dust kicked up from under his beat up red converse as he whirled on Dabi, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, spit flecked through gritted teeth as he puffed out a vicious breath.

Dabi raised his hands as if surrendering, yet still had the gall to say, “Hey, I’m just lookin’ out for ya. Your funeral, buddy. Though, maybe you’d like that.”

“Tomura, he’s not worth it…” you nearly whispered, too tired to burst out in fury like you had before. You placed a hand on Tomura’s back and pulled him from his blinding rage, slowly retracting to melt back into your gentle, understanding touch. “Please… Let’s just go home.”

You and Tomura each had an arm wrapped around one other, walking with slightly staggering steps as you guided him away and further down the road.

“Yeah…” Dabi scoffed to himself, clenching his fists at the sight of you two huddled together again. “Let’s go home.”

***

It took another two hours until the skyline of the city that had damned all three of you came into sight, another sixty painful minutes ticking by before you actually set foot back in the territory. And you should’ve known by now, especially in Dabi’s company, that you were never really home free.

Because the moment you thought you could breathe easy and part ways, enjoy the remainder of the stroll back to your apartment with Tomura to count your cash and make a plan, Dabi ran into an old friend.

Or rather, an old friend ran into Dabi.

“Pretty fuckin’ brave of you to show your face around here again!” a rough voice called from behind, causing all three of you to turn in unison, six eyes gone wide and bearing different breeds of fear.

“Shit,” Dabi hissed under his breath, pushing you two along and tacking on an urgent, “We gotta go. Now.”

“Not so fast, hot shot,” another big, burly, tattoo-covered man chuckled as he stepped out of the nearest alley, blocking your path with a crowbar in hand. “It’s time to pay up, Dabi.”

You and Tomura braced yourselves, scanning the group of men that were circling around you for any gaps big enough to slip through and make an escape. But the pack only tightened, more and more criminals emerging from the shadows armed with flashes of sharp silver or rusted iron.

“Hey, boys…” Dabi replied, trying to hide the quiver in his tone with an uncharacteristically friendly lilt. “Been a while, huh?” He was backing up towards you and Tomura, possibly trying to make a run for it himself, but there was no escape now. Not for any of you. Especially not for you, what with the hungry way the pack of men stared you down, nearly salivating at all their own disgusting thoughts.

“I sure hope you have our money,” the one who was presumably the leader of the gang went on, a smug grin plastered across his scarred face, tapping the weight of the crowbar in his palm with a steady beat. “‘Cause if ya don’t…” He swung the crowbar forward, causing all three of you to jolt as it pointed directly at Dabi. “Well, then we’re gonna have a biiiiiig problem, ain’t we?”

And he knew that Dabi didn’t have the money.

Or, at least, he normally wouldn’t have, if not for the cash he’d collected from selling the stolen car.

But still, even that wasn’t enough to pay off the entire debt and Dabi was too hell bent on securing more of his drugs before he’d even consider handing this man a single dollar.

And you and Tomura, well…

You still needed your cut.

None of you were too keen on going down without some kind of fight.

Not when you’d come this far through hell to finally catch a glimpse of the twisted heaven on the horizon.

“Yeah, well, about that…” Dabi chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head and trying to stay calm. Meanwhile, you and Tomura noticed some of the rough and tumble facade melt away, leaving only a guy who had been way in over his head from the start.

And it happened so fast. The flash of metal. A silver streak appearing and disappearing before anyone could really see what it was. But left in its wake was a slash of red and a guttural howling, the scene growing smaller and smaller behind you until you realized that someone was dragging you along by your wrist, you nearly tripping over your own feet as you glanced over your shoulder with horror, blood turning to ice.

Maybe Dabi had shouted, “Run!”

Maybe he hadn’t.

But now all three of you were high tailing it down a series of narrow alleys, Tomura’s grip on you like a vice, desperate and unrelenting. At some point, you think you were telling him he was hurting you, trying to pull away when you felt the pressure growing over your bones, thorny pangs of pain peppered over your skin. But he didn’t hear you over the surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins. And even if he did, he didn’t care. He wasn’t going to let you go. Not until you were somewhere safe and warm with him and no one else.

“Fuck! Fuck!” Dabi shouted when he rounded the next corner and halted, you and Tomura nearly barreling into him as you skid to a stop and were faced with a dead end. “Uh… New plan!” He backed up, peering down the remaining stretch of straight path and seeing the silhouettes of even more enemies pop up to cage you in, a big dumpster wedged in the middle of the narrow alley slowing them down, but not for long.

Panicked, he started back down the dead end, spotting a fire escape ladder just out of reach, rushing over to jump up to try and grab hold and pull it down, but every attempt was met with no more than his fingers barely brushing against the first bar.

“What are we doing, guys?!” you shouted, your panic catching up with you as you stared down the alley and watched as your pursuers became dangerously closer by the second. Your heart was pounding, pulse beating so fast and hard that it hurt. Though, meanwhile, unbeknownst to you amongst the dread, Tomura had gone over to assist, Dabi lifting him to pull down the ladder.

You froze. Paralyzed with terror as a group of silhouettes were mere yards away. So close you could see the whites of their eyes. You’d meant to yell, to scream, anything to inform the boys that they were coming. But then that rough, scarred hand grabbed yours again and pulled you towards the ladder, practically pushing you up it even as you scrambled as fast as you could to climb.

Dabi was already at the top, extending a hand to you to pull you up to the landing.

And the only reason Tomura dared let go of you was because he thought that Dabi would just pull you up and then keep running on his own. So when the inky haired bastard locked his fist around your wrist and took off with you. Well…

Tomura saw red.

“Wait! Ow— Stop!” You tried to protest, fighting harder against his grip than you had on Tomura’s, digging your heels into the ground only to be yanked forward to nearly stumble over the next flight of stairs. You looked behind you for Tomura, not even having time to make sure he’d made it up the ladder before you’d been taken hostage again. You called his name, hoping— praying— that he’d call back. Let you know he was ok. That he’d made it—

But there was only silence.

“STOP!” you shrieked, reaching forward with your free hand to dig your nails into Dabi’s arm, clawing viciously at his inked skin until he had no choice but to let go, a few thin rivulets of blood welling up from the pale surface.

“Jesus— What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He scolded, sapphire eyes smoldering with white hot fury beneath a deep scowl.

“Tomura—!”

“Who fucking cares?!” Dabi shouted over your cries, which were quickly turning to sobs— fat, glistening tears welling in your eyes and streaking shimmering lines down your cheeks in pairs. Your chest was heaving with shallow breaths, suffocating yourself every time you tried to draw in more air, feeling like you were going to throw up. Like you were going to pass out. Like you were going to die.

“But he—!”

“Better him than us!” Dabi cut in with a snarl, approaching you with fists clenched. You winced when he came close enough that his shadow cast over you, shielding your face with your arms as if you expected a strike. “Now, unless you want those guys to rip you apart, then I suggest you stop your fucking crying and fucking run.”

His voice was icy hot. Searing into your heart like millions of barbed fish hooks, each one connected to a line that pulled in a different direction, intending to unravel you. To massacre you.

You felt your world sway and caught yourself on the railing of the staircase, peering down over the edge at the vast drop below.

And the thought did cross your mind. To jump. To end it all. But then from the landing below came, “Keep going!”

Both you and Dabi looked at each other with varying degrees of relief and confusion before you turned to see Tomura sprinting up the staircase, out of breath but still refusing to slow down. Immediately all your dread was replaced with a vibrant joy, a beaming, yet crooked smile lighting up your face and contrasting eerily with the tears that still spilled from your eyes.

“Tomura! You—”

“The ladder!” He huffed, coming to a stop and nearly doubling over once he joined you and Dabi on the next landing. An awful wheezing sound rattled in his chest with every inhale he took, bracing his hands on his knees for a moment before finding the will to stand and finishing his sentence with, “Tried to pull it up but it got stuck halfway… They’re probably… On their way…”

“Like I said—!” Dabi snapped, getting ready to run again. “We gotta go. Now.”

So the three of you took off— together this time— the top of the building but a landing away now, though you could hear the frantic clattering of heavy footsteps not far below.

“What happens once we get to the roof?” You called to Dabi, who was already on the final ladder.

“Just trust me!” he shouted back, extending a hand once again to pull you up, though you were careful not to hold on too tightly after what had just happened moments ago.

As Tomura climbed the ladder, he muttered to himself, “I don’t like those odds…”

But once you were on the roof, Dabi seemed to know the terrain better than he did on the ground. Because, up here, you could see the entire city laid out before you. All the narrow, intertwining streets appeared like an elaborate maze with the heart of the district shimmering like a mirage in the summer heat far, far in the distance.

“We’ll head towards the shopping district and lose ‘em there,” Dabi explained as you and Tomura followed behind him in a line, treading much more carefully than your surefooted, tattooed friend so as to avoid a deadly fall. “My place isn’t far. We’ll hide out there for a while till we can make sure the streets are clear.”

“Won’t they know where to find you?” you asked, nearly rolling your eyes as such an obvious flaw in his plan. “I mean, you can’t be telling me that these guys don’t know where you live.”

Dabi smirked to himself, eyes trained on where his next step would land upon the roof to avoid any loose shingles as he replied with an overconfident, “Well, that’s just one of the perks of this lifestyle, sweetheart. Anywhere can be your home when you don’t really have one of your own.”

You scoffed at his arrogance, not exactly finding it very funny to be making jokes at a time like this, but ultimately you let it go. It was a bridge you’d cross when you came to it, so long as you could get to the other end of the slanted path you were currently on.

But Dabi wasn’t joking.

He had a place. Several, in fact. A hideout in every corner of the outskirts. And every time one of them was discovered or raided, he’d just count his losses, retrieve what little he could, and forge a new hole to call home until the process inevitably repeated.

It was how he’d survived this long. How he’d evaded his enemies just long enough to extend his deadline or wrack up an even bigger debt.

Lucky for you, though, he was taking you back to his favorite hideout. It could almost pass for an actual place someone might be able to call home. Almost.

“Hey, I think we lost ‘em…” Tomura eventually remarked as you’d changed to your third rooftop, standing still and staring over the scenery behind you. Lo and behold, your pursuers were nowhere to be seen.

Dabi stopped to listen in, the whistling from a strong gust of wind the only sound to be heard up here other than the muffled traffic drifting over from a few streets down. “Yeah…” Dabi muttered, then clearing his throat to speak loud enough for you both to hear, “Yeah, I think we lost ‘em. C’mon. Let’s go.”

A few more unstable rooftops and several flights of rusted fire escape staircases later and the three of you were back on solid ground. And it was sort of strange, unexpectedly, being back among the maze of buildings and alleys after experiencing the view of the city from so high up. You felt so much smaller than you had before, gazing up through the gaps in the architecture at the sliver of sky which had just expanded all around you, painting over the muted greys and browns of your world with a serene shade of blue.

“Hey, c’mon…” Tomura urged quietly, taking your hand in his once more, though much more gently this time, and guiding you to follow after him, careful not to press into the bruises that were already beginning to blossom on your wrist from the abuse between him and Dabi forcing you along. “We gotta go.”

But you just wanted to stay and stare up at the sky, unable to shake the feeling that perhaps that was the first time you’d ever truly seen it— a sprawling revelation expanding around you after you’d just been fearing for your life, the city never that quiet, never that still, the heat of summer not so stifling when there was so much fresh air swirling around you.

But your feet carried you after Tomura, drifting closer to where Dabi was checking to make sure the coast was clear from the opening in the alley that would merge back onto the main streets, waving you two forward in a wordless announcement that it was safe.

“Just a few more blocks,” Dabi sighed, careful cerulean gaze scanning the narrow horizon like prey expecting to find a predator lurking among the telephone poles and parked cars. But then he looked at you, noticed the tranquil daze that had overtaken your features, and asked with a skeptical squint, “You holdin’ up ok?”

It took a second for you to realize he was talking to you, snapping out of your daydream and becoming more alert as you looked up at him and replied with a shaky, “Y-yeah… I’m fine,” as you melted back into Tomura’s side.

And Dabi wished that Tomura wouldn’t have made it past the first ladder. That he’d been caught by those thugs and pulled down, beaten to death and left to suffer on the grimey concrete. Because then maybe he could be the one whose hand you were holding. Whose chest you were starting to lean against. He could take you the rest of the way to his little hole in the wall apartment and get you something to drink, sling an arm around you and pull you close until you stopped trembling and he’d convinced you that no one— not the cops or any backstreet criminals— was going to take you from him.

But the bastard who’d tried to kill himself by stepping in front of the car was the one who currently protected your heart, the one who was allowed to touch you and whisper how it isn’t much further, we’ll be there soon.

Dabi cursed himself for the man he’d been twenty-four hours ago. The man who was so hardened from this life that he’d fallen into that he was no longer able to recognize something that was good before he scorned it, scorched it, ruined it with harsh words and biting remarks.

Deep down, though…

Deep down he stoked the embers of hope in the hearth of his heart. Hope that maybe, if you could just get through this, he could convince you to be his.

“It’s right this way,” Dabi informed the two of you as you rounded the next corner, this street wider than most of the others you’d traveled down yet entirely abandoned. Only some littered newspaper scraps or empty cardboard boxes blown astray from overflowing dumpsters scuttling along the street when a breeze blew by.

“Where even are we?” you asked as you continued to survey the place, surprised not to find even a single parked car, taxi, moped, anything in sight.

“It’s better if you don’t know, actually,” Dabi mumbled, fishing a set of keys out of one of his pockets and flipping through them until he found the correct one.

It was only then, just as he swung open a heavy metal door and held it as if wanting you to enter first that it occurred to you. Such a chilling, stomach turning realization.

You stopped short halfway through your next step, giving Tomura’s hand a slight squeeze in warning like you had in the car on the way to Spinner’s.

What if this was a trap?

What if Dabi was planning on killing the two of you and claiming your shares of the cash for himself?

It wouldn’t be hard to do. Not once he shut that door behind you— one that might only open one way, for all you knew— and guided you further into an unfamiliar building. He’d been so quick with that switchblade before. Only, this time, instead of slashing an eye it would be you and Tomura’s throats.

“What’s the matter?” Tomura inquired with a concerned mutter, leaning down a little to keep the conversation private.

But then Dabi called over with an impatient, “Hurry it up! Can’t be out in the open for too long!”

You just shook your head, shuffling back a half step while your eyes remained stuck on Dabi holding open the door.

“C’mon, it’s ok. We’re fine now,” Tomura tried to urge you, gently tugging you along until you caved and your feet stumbled forward, heartbeat hammering as you squeezed Tomura’s hand even tighter. He could feel your entire body shaking, but he figured that was more from the trauma of the recent events than the possible fear of being murdered by the third member of your unlikely trio.

Once you were inside, the door shutting behind you with a high pitched creak whining from its rusted hinges, you were engulfed in complete darkness for longer than you were comfortable with, paranoia lacing through your veins with a jittery shiver until Dabi flicked on a light switch and the place was set ablaze with vivid blue— graffied flames painted along the floors and walls that glowed under the blacklight.

“It’s not much but…” Dabi shrugged. “They won’t find us here.”

And just like that, your mood flipped. You were in awe for the second time that day, unable to believe the sight before you was one that belonged to your usually bleak reality.

“Did you…” you breathed out with a sigh, a fresh wave of calm overtaking you as you and Tomura followed Dabi down the long hallway. “Did you do all this?”

Dabi hummed out a short chuckle. “Yeah, well, sometimes I find myself having to hide out for a little longer than usual, so…”

Beyond the tunnel of blue flames, behind the only door located in the expansive corridor, was a single floor, several makeshift walls and barriers constructed from cardboard boxes or mismatched, patchwork pieces of plastic creating little rooms among the warehouse-like expanse. The walls of this place were also decorated with the glowing blue flames, the inferno that ignited along the hall growing into a raging wildfire with some red accents for contrast.

Dabi flipped on the main lights and the art disappeared, plain concrete walls swallowing the fiery blaze and bathing the hideout in bright fluorescence, some of the lamps flickering every once in a while to remind you that this place was not a magical fantasyland, but a dilapidated, definitely not up to safety code concrete box that you could very well be calling home for the foreseeable future.

“You can take your shoes off,” Dabi began, already heading towards one of the little sectioned off rooms, “Or don’t. I don’t care. Sit wherever. Whatever.” Then, from the room that was most likely his makeshift kitchen, he called out, “Hey, either of you want a drink?!”

For a moment, you’d forgotten Tomura was even there, his hand locked with yours just feeling like second nature at this point. So when he called back, “Some water might be nice!” you nearly jolted at the sudden voice. He then guided you over to the tiny, scuffed up couch and sat beside you, searching your face— your eyes— for something.

“Hey…” he muttered, brushing some of your disheveled hair away from your sweat streaked face, eyes still a little puffy from crying on the fire escape. “You ok…?”

You started crying again, slowly at first, then sobbing uncontrollably as you buried your face into his shoulder, your wailing muffled by the flimsy fabric of his shirt. He pulled you in closer, protectively, as Dabi re-entered the main area carrying two bottles of water and one can of beer, stride only stuttering a fraction when he witnessed your current state, the way you were clinging to Tomura for dear life again, as if he was the only thing in this world holding you together.

His grip around the beer can tightened, pressing a few small dents into the aluminum.

“What’s wrong with ‘er now?” he asked, words coated in thick— yet forced— derision, rolling his eyes and tossing Tomura one of the water bottles before jumping over the back of the couch and landing on the thin cushions next to you, keeping a bit of a distance even if that wasn’t necessarily what he wanted to do right now.

Tomura unscrewed the cap of the water bottle, trying to coax you to catch your breath and take a sip as he rubbed a hand up and down your back. But you wouldn’t lift your head from his shoulder, only nuzzling into his body deeper.

Both Tomura and Dabi exchanged unsure glances, neither exactly sure what to do right now, that is, until they heard your sobs turn into laughter— a cold, cruel chuckle that hiccuped in your chest every time a lingering sob pried its way past your lungs.

When you finally pulled your face from its hiding place among Tomura’s person, your head flopped back and you slumped into the couch. You looked sort of terrifying— teeth bared in a too wide smile as your body shook from soundless amusement, tears continuing to stream down your face and collect under your chin before dripping down onto your shirt.

“Bitch is fuckin’ crazy…” Dabi mumbled under his breath as he raised the beer can to his lips, though he jumped when a particularly loud burst of laughter tore through your throat. Then he couldn’t take his eyes off you, usually half-lidded and unbothered stare going wide enough to rival Tomura’s as he sat there frozen and unblinking, beer can still lifted to his lips yet he didn’t dare take a single sip.

And Tomura, well…

Tomura knew the feeling.

“I just can’t believe…” you barely were able to get the words out, battling between the incessant urge to cry and laugh at the same time, chest beginning to burn from the lack of oxygen in your delirious and hysterical state. “I just can’t believe that we’re alive… We’re alive…”

Tomura swallowed hard, gulped down the past few hours and hoped the monster drowned in his stomach acid before it gained enough strength to crawl back up his throat. He uttered your name— a nervous, unsure set of syllables that felt wrong in his mouth, sounded wrong to your ears. But then Dabi started laughing, his sounding low and rough and downright sinful at the realization that, yes, you’d all made it back alive.

And there was still twenty thousand dollars to split between you. Six thousand each.

“Y’know what,” Dabi said, leaning forward and setting his beer down on the busted and scratched coffee table in front of the couch. “I think the three of us make a pretty alright team.” Both you and Tomura’s gazes snapped his way, your laughter slowly fading until even the smile was wiped from your face.

Finally, Tomura said, “We almost died back there.”

“Well then maybe you should be thanking me,” Dabi responded with a hint of cruelty mixed into his tone, still holding on tight to the grudge against the silver-haired boy for stepping in front of his stolen car. Though, at this point, it really wasn’t even about that anymore, was it?

“What do you mean team?” you then cut in, feeling the tension between the two of them growing and hoping to defuse the situation before it erupted again. Even so, some sarcasm couldn’t help but shine through your words, one of your eyebrows quirked up in some kind of dramatic confusion. “The way I remember it, you wanted to leave us for dead on more than one occasion.”

“Look, I’m not used to workin’ with other people, alright?” Dabi shot back, clearly feeling cornered now, both you and Tomura setting distrusting stares upon his inked skin and sapphire eyes. “So, sorry if things didn’t always go off without a hitch—” He leaned forward, tightening the huddle between you three. “But what I’m tryna say is…”

Dabi took a moment to search your eyes, studying them, memorizing their color and the way they looked in the light versus the dark. Then he shifted his gaze to Tomura, who’s bright scarlet was far less alluring. Dabi didn’t know what you saw in him— saw in his dry, cracked, scarred skin and all that shaggy silver hair that fell into his eyes. Because all Dabi saw was someone not worth the trouble. Someone who would bury him— bury the both of you— along with himself if he got the right chance.

Perhaps Tomura was a risk in all of this.

Perhaps Dabi would live to regret trusting him.

But Dabi knew that if he wanted you— and he most certainly did want you— then Tomura was going to have to be the stray that tagged along. At least, until he could think of a better way to get rid of him…

“What I’m tryna say is that I think the three of us could pull off some pretty decent jobs,” Dabi finally concluded.

You narrowed your eyes at him, thinking if you traced over the lines of his tattoos or dared to submerge yourself into the blue of his stare for long enough you’d figure out what angle he was working, what catch would be tacked on to the end of such an offer. Though, in your hesitation, Tomura seemed to have put some of the scattered pieces to this puzzle he could gather together in his own head. He held his stare with Dabi and asked, that raspy, dangerous darkness overtaking his tone as he lowered his voice and asked, “Like what?”

And that was it.

From that moment on, you were in, all three of you leaning in closer and closer to each other as Dabi detailed some robberies he’d been trying to plan— robberies that required more than one person who knew the streets like he did and would have each other’s backs if things took a turn— elaborating on the fact that they were mostly on his enemies, guys who’d either wronged him in the past or would in the very near future if someone didn’t remind them they weren’t untouchable.

“But that’s just the warm up,” Dabi smirked, wearing that arrogant grin as he gave a half shrug, rolling his eyes a bit as if to say, child’s play. “I say we test out just how well we work together on these guys, then move onto something a little less pedestrian and more, say… Corporate.”

You thought of your view standing upon those rooftops, the heart of the city that you’d been cast out of so long ago shimmering in the distant summer heat. Close enough to dream of but still too far away to touch.

Dabi chuckled to himself then, posing the question, “I mean, what do we really have to lose?”

You’d wondered that for a while now.

Maybe it was about time you found out.

For the remainder of the night, the three of you tunneled deeper and deeper into Dabi’s plans, exploring every nook and cranny of the scheme until you felt like enough of the holes had been filled and openings in the fences patched up. By the time the hands on the clock were beginning to run into the early hours of the next morning, your eyelids were growing too heavy for you to fight against anymore.

You were exhausted and both the boys saw it.

So Tomura took the envelope out of his pocket, counted out each of your shares, Dabi counting his twice just to make sure, and thus the alliance was set. After that, you guys called it quits for the day, got some rest and allowed yourselves to recharge before the first act of your ambitious new activities would commence. And as you fell asleep curled up close to Tomura on that narrow couch, half of your body draped over him and finding comfort in the slow rise and fall of his chest, Dabi’s words kept repeating in your head over and over, an endless, overlapping echo of, “What do we really have to lose?”

You found the answer just before slipping unconscious, you think, though by the time you’d wake up tomorrow you’d forget it.

What do we have to lose? Well, the only thing that’s really ever been ours to begin with.

Our lives.

***

(Hello and thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Please do check out the MV this fic is based on if you get the chance, it’s one I’ve loved since it came out all the way back in 2017, though perhaps you ought to wait until the fic is finished since it’s likely you’ll be able to predict some spoilers haha.

Anyway, future chapters will feature more of the Dabi x Reader side of things so for those of you who prefer Dabi please be patient with me! There’s actually a scene that’s been in my head for a while that I’m really looking forward to writing when the time comes.

I originally planned to write this fic in three parts but given how much more involved it became the more I developed it, now it's likely going to end up being somewhere between five and ten depending. I'll probably end up breaking up the original "three parts" into slightly shorter (though still lengthy) chapters so I'm able to post updates more consistently throughout this year rather than only be able to put out one huge chapter every few years.

Anyway, I really appreciate everyone’s patience and hope that you look forward to the next chapter. With that being said, I’ll see you soon!

Byyyyye~)

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the-dawn-star · 5 months

Note

Dabi x teen reader where maybe reader has some old Sh scars and while dabi and reader are out in public someone comments on them in a negative way?

-orchrid anon (also make sure to stay hydrated and eat well and take care of your mental health <3)

A/N: Hey! I don’t know if anyone has seen but my requests are open again. I changed the prompt again, I hope you don't mind!

-S

+200ish words.

TW/CW: Talk of self-harm, nothing graphic and really barely mentioned but still. Dabi possibly murdering someone but once again nothing explicit.

Dabi knew that you had not felt the best in the past.

He knew how much you had been hurt and he had made it his personal mission to make sure that you would never feel so awful again.

So, when you came from school Dabi was really confused when you started to cry.

Of course, Dabi didn’t believe your story that you were fine. Instead, he sat you down on your bed and asked you once again what was wrong.

You told him about the looks that you had been getting and Dabi was ready to set everyone on fire.

He knows himself of all the horrible things people can say and how much just the smallest things can affect a person when vulnerable.

Dabi will try to comfort you, he just isn’t very good at it but at least he is trying.

After you have calmed down and ready to go to sleep, Dabi may or may not take a tiny trip to the peoples’ houses that spoke badly about you.

Trust me, after that you won’t hear them say anything about you ever again.

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xxizombiexx · 6 months

Text

Dabi x FEM! Reader

Villains Girlfriend

Warning- p in v, use of toys, bondage, reader being described as "cute" "adorable" and "clueless", being gagged, oversimulation idk how to spell it

If you would have looked at her, and then at Dabi, you would have never guess they would be together. She was a adorable person. Always dressing in cute clothes and dressing up just to go to the convince store. But him on the other hand, he was very, edgy. Always wearing black, and dark clothing. Such a cold heart he has. But he can't help but smile at his cute little girlfriend sometimes. She was so adorable, yet so clueless. So stupid. She would do anything Dabi told her too.

So that's why, right now, she's on her knees, all tied up from him. Her hands were tied behind her naked back. Ropes hugged her body tightly. From her arms being tied together to her thighs. Dabi could only chuckled, as she whine and cry as the vibrator attacked her sensitive little nub. All she could do was make those noises, since the gag in her mouth was preventing her from saying anything.

Dabi, on the other hand, sat back in his chair, his one hand palming his hard cock through his pants and the other on the remote controlling the vibrator. He loved seeing the sight of her tied up before him. He could only chuckled, as he watched the girl squirm just from a little toy.

Just wait until you get the real thing.

"What's that, doll? You want me to turn up the speed?" Dabi asked, smiling like a psychopath. Because he is one. But that's besides the point. The girl practically begged for him not to turn it up. Her little pussy couldn't take it anymore. She needed to cum. But, Dabi being Dabi, she couldn't or else there would be consequences.

So that's what Dabi did. He turned it up to the highest level. Y/n moaned and moaned, squirmed and whined. The vibrator on her clit was driving her insane. Dabi chuckled, as he pulled out his phone to take a picture of her all tied up. That's definitely going to be his new lockscreen.

Gotta cum, gotta cum. Was all she thought, rolling her eyes back into of her head. Y/n moaned loudly over the gag, as she felt the knot in her stomach snap. Her juices ran down her thigh. She knew Dabi was gonna be angry, but it was almost- no, impossible to hold back her need to cum.

"Oh, what happened, doll? You were being such a good girl, now look at you. You didn't even ask permission." Dabi said, getting up from his seat in the chair. The girl whined.

"I-m s-srow-ey!" She mumbled, with tears streaming down her face. Dabi could only shake his head in disappointment and tsked. He turned off the toy that was attacking her sensitive nub. She left out a sigh of relief, it being muffled sounds over the gag.

"Yeah, yeah." Dabi said, pushing you down, so her face met the floor. Dabi kneeled behind her, unzipping his black jeans, and letting his cock free from his boxers. He looked down her, looking at how wet her pussy was; her juices flowing down her thigh. Dabi gave no time, thrusting into her. His thick, pierced cock filling up her aching cunt with just one thrust.

Y/n moaned out in pleasure and sensitivity. (E/c) eyes, rolled back.

Dabi could only chuckle, watching you in this state. He pulled out, leaving only the tip in your hole, before slamming back in. "D-Dabi, i-im gon-na cum~" She moaned, throwing her head back in pleasure.

Dabi continued to thrust in and out, him also throwing his head back in pleasure of how her walls tightened around his cock. "Yeah-yeah go ahead." He groaned out, feeling himself to grow closer and color to cumming. And that's what she did. She squirmed all over as she rides out her high. Dabi's chest shined with Y/n juices.

His paste started to slow and become sloppy, before he came inside of her, groaning out in satisfaction.

Words- 708

This is so rushed lol

#dabi #mha dabi #my hero academia x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #please read #mha x reader #mha x reader smut #anime and manga #touya todoroki

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emotionalmessss · 11 months

Text

Diabolical Dealings

A/N: first time writing Shigaraki, I tried my best. I probably neglected Dabi a little too much and made Shigaraki absolutely disgusting. This was wayyy longer than I intended. No beta read, non-canon plot (ish).

Synopsis: reader is a police officer and stumbles into something she shouldn't have. Dabi x Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: where do I even start lol. Heavy non-con, humiliation, implied murder, kinda violence/blood, shigaraki is gross (sorry), implied kidnapping, yandere (kinda?), spit, forced orgasm, oral, threesome. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Word count: 10.2K

A gust of wind whistled across your face, making your eyes flutter shut as dirt and stray newspapers skidded along the sidewalk. Despite the frigid air that enveloped your body within seconds - you were boiling hot. Your skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, dripping over your furrowed brow and down to the pavement. It was shortly after twelve in the morning and you had just begun your nightly rounds of your assigned area. It was cold and dark. Your path is barely illuminated by the flickering street lights and LED store signs. It was only enough to see a couple yards in front of you, everything else hidden by the eerie shadows of darkness.

There were hundreds of other things you’d rather be doing right now; staying home with a microwavable meal on your lap while you watched your favorite show was one of them. Being called in and roaming the streets was last on your list of things to do on a Friday night.

Your phone rang an hour ago while you were occupying your time being curled up on the couch, with a hot bowl of curry beside you. You had just begun to settle down, only to get interrupted.

You knew you had to answer when you saw the Chief’s caller ID reflect onto your gloomy face.

Begrudgingly, you answered. His voice was stressed when he asked if you could come in for the night, explaining that there had been a few more attacks than usual tonight, and that the Heroes needed the extra hands to apprehend the villains they defeated.

Reluctantly, you agreed. You weren’t a fan of working nights and opted for working days to lessen the hassle of transporting villains back to headquarters, where they would be dealt with before they were shipped off to Tarturus. It was a relatively easy job during the day, but the night only amplified the difficulty. With limited civilians and heroes, you had to be extra cautious.

If it wasn’t your deep admiration and dedication to the job - you would’ve said no. But alas, here you were, fulfilling your duties in the dead of night.

“How are you holding up, (last name)?” A muffled voice filtered through your radio, startling you slightly as you reached to unclip it from your belt.

You backed up towards a brick wall, casting a few glances around before you answered your partner. “I’m fine. Doing one final sweep before I head over to Endeavor and Jeanist.” You radioed back. “Are you alright?”

“Relax, (last name). You’re doing great.” You thought the shake in your voice was hidden by your false sense of confidence, but your partner saw straight through the mask. “I’m catching up with Gum soon. Almost finished my rounds too.”

You sighed, closing your eyes and wiping the sweat from your forehead. You were too tired for this shit. You wanted to meet up with Endeavor and Jeanist, sooner rather than later. They were Pros and had quirks, unlike yourself. Better yet, you just wanted to finish the assignment and retreat back to the safety of your apartment.

“(last name)? Are you there?” He asked, your shaky hands clinging to the small device as your brain kicked back in to register his words.

“Sorry, I’m here.” You swallowed. “That’s good. We’ll meet up later? Maybe grab a coffee after the shift change?” You perked up, knowing how desperate your body was for some liquid fuel right about now.

“You bet your fucking ass we will. Radio me if you need anything. I’ll be around.” He buzzed out, leaving nothing but the sound of static sizzling in the air.

You clipped your radio back to your belt, still resting against the bricks to give your tired feet a chance to recuperate. You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You’re going to be fine. Everything is okay. You repeated the reassurances in your mind, forcing yourself to calm down.

You pushed yourself up, brushing out the crinkles that formed in your uniform and started to press on. The sound of your footsteps echoed as you walked along the pavement, your head turning to give quick glances down the alleyways and side streets. Nothing out of the ordinary caught your attention, which seemed strange considering the Chief explicitly said tonight was unusually active.

You chalked it up to the increased presence of the heroes, knowing that most small-time villains would avoid these areas because of them. They never lingered in one place for too long. The fear of catching the attention of a Pro and getting apprehended usually deterred them. Granted, it wasn’t out of ordinary for a smaller villain to test their luck and linger about anyways. They usually opted for petty crimes like vandalism and theft, which would make for quick escapes if needed. There was no shortage of those types, unfortunately.

Despite this, you noticed there wasn’t much of a disturbance tonight. You certainly weren’t complaining, but the anxiety continued to gnaw in the back of your head. You were specifically on edge since there was so little happening in your area. That could mean one or two things; the heroes scared all of them away, or that there was a bigger threat lurking about.

Villains were similar in their enjoyment of public disturbance, wreaking havoc, and causing panics. But not all Villains were the same. The ones that committed thought-out malicious crimes usually deterred the pettier Villains. There’s always bigger fish in the ocean.

But what would you know? You weren’t an expert, but you had picked up on a few things from your years in the field. Your skilled understanding of villains kept you alive, but you weren’t going to gamble with it.

You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You repeated, changing the subject in your mind to something a little more pragmatic. You weren’t about to ruin your streak of luck with your panicked thoughts. You continued on, looking forward to the coffee stop you promised your partner. You hoped that when you met up with Endeavor and Jeanist, that they’d just send you off home, but those chances were slim.

You’re doing great. You’re doing great. You hummed to yourself as you rounded a corner, poking your head out to give a quick check.

“I’m not wasting my time on these pieces of trash. They make for better kindling than recruits.” You heard a deep voice rasp from afar. The sound came from afar and echoed off the tall brick walls, which made it even more difficult to distinguish.

A civilian? You thought, furrowing your brows. Maybe? But why would they be wandering in an alley at this time of night? They didn’t sound too friendly either. You gripped onto the edge of the wall, tilting your head in the direction of the barely audible voice.

“Can’t be surprised, this world is rotting from the inside and it makes me sick.” The second voice was higher pitched and much more strained than the first.

Your subconscious must have realized that they were a threat before your mind could, because you felt a tingle run down your spine and goosebumps crawl up your neck. Definitely not friendly.

You could hear the first man scoff and what sounded like footsteps, but nothing else. It appeared that they were retreating deeper into the alley to continue their conversation. You weren’t too keen on the idea of finding out where they were going - or what they were doing. Deciding that it was better to not push your luck, you backed away from the entrance and reached for your radio.

You weren’t a detective, and you weren’t about to start acting like one just because you were curious. You needed to radio your partner and inform him immediately on what you stumbled upon, even if you weren’t sure what you found. They could just be some lowly villains, but you had a protocol to follow.

Moving further away from the opening and deeming yourself to be at a safe distance, you pulled out your radio.

“Sam?” You whispered, bringing the device up with shaky fingers. “Are you there?”

There was a hiss of static in response and you slapped your palm over the speaker.

“Sam?” You asked again, your voice sounding a little more desperate as you waited for a response. It couldn’t be helped, but you were beginning to feel a little anxious. It wasn’t like him to leave you hanging like this, especially for a night like this. He made it a habit to always pick up when you called.

There was an off chance that he was caught up in dealing with something, but you wanted nothing more than to hear him say anything. You rested your forehead on the tips of your fingers, letting out a shaky breath. Your mind wanted to be rational with the thoughts, but you couldn’t help the overwhelming sense of worry at his silence.

Swallowing hard, you decided this was something you were going to have to deal with later. It would be better off to ignore the rest of your sweep and just meet back up later. “If you can hear this, I’m making my way back over to everyone. There w-”

A sudden burst of blue flame erupted from the alley beside you, catching you off guard and forcing a scream out of your throat. Your radio slipped from your fingers and crashed onto the pavement, cracking from the blow. You narrowly dodged the attack - your legs reacting before your mind could even fully process the situation.You hit the ground hard but corrected yourself by rolling onto your knees and into a crouching stance. Your heart nearly leaped out of your chest as it started to pump faster at the wall of fire next to you. If you were a few seconds slower, then your entire side would have been fried.

The muscles in your chest grew tight with each breath, forcing you into a state of hyperventilation. Move. Now! Your nerves ignited with a fury of terror and forced you out of your frozen state. You scrambled to your feet in less than a second and bolted down the sidewalk without a second thought. Heroes. Get to the heroes. You no longer cared about how loud your footsteps were, since whoever attacked you knew exactly where you had been. You were positive that if they wanted to kill you, they would’ve. They wanted you to run, and you were going to do just that.

If it weren’t for the fear, you surely would have collapsed. You never ran faster in your life till now and you didn’t stop, even when your lungs started to burn and ache. You had to keep going. That fire quirk was a long ranged attack, which was bad as is. You didn’t want to waste time dwelling on catching your breath.

The muscles in your legs strained as you bolted down the sidewalk, pumping them as fast as they would allow. Your breathing was uneven, borderline hyperventilating due to your climbing fear. The adrenaline was enough to keep you going, passing by several side streets and alleys as you tried to put some distance between yourself and your assailant.

You wiped your eyes, which were stinging with sweat and momentarily blinding you.

“Where ya’ going in such a rush, doll?” The voice sounded bored, uninterested really.

You skidded to a stop, feet sliding against the pavement in attempts to slow yourself. Your gaze moved up to follow where the sound was coming from, noticing a man resting lazily against an alleyway entrance. Your eyes widened and your lips parted to let out a surprised puff of air. You were not expecting the man to catch up to you so quickly, let alone be in front of you. This certainly took you by surprise and you felt yourself take a precautionary step backwards.

He held out a singular finger with a blue flame hovering at the tip of it, flicking his eyes back and forth between you and the subtle glow. You could barely make out his features, only a hint of light being emitted from his index. You did, however, notice the textured skin that was stapled together with the living skin. It couldn’t be. You thought as another wave of panic rushed over you.

He must have noticed your realization because you saw him smirk wildly before extinguishing the flame in his fist.

Engulfed in darkness, you turned and sprinted away. Your body once again acted on impulse as you ducked into the alley beside you. No. You weren’t going to die. You thought. This wasn’t going to be your end. You promised your partner that you would have coffee together. You promised to visit your parents more. You still had your whole life ahead of you. You weren’t going to die .

With as much speed as your body could handle, you ran deeper into the dark unknown. You knew that you had to get back to the Pros, but whether or not you’d be able to was inconclusive. Your main focus was escaping, but it seemed easier said than done. Nonetheless, you carried on, jumping over stray bags of garbage and debris.

The sound of your thumping footsteps were loud, but your heart hammering against your rib cage was even louder. The organ pumped viciously to fuel your aching limbs with blood, even reaching up to thud in your ear canal. It was only when your eyes landed on a second shadow emerging from the darkness that you spun back around. No. This wasn’t happening. Your feet slid out from under you at the sudden movement, but you quickly corrected yourself, spinning on your heels and darting back towards the mouth of the alley. You ran blindly, in hopes of getting away from both assailants.

You glanced back, noting the shadow stalking after you. No. He wasn’t in a rush. He was taking his time chasing you. His pace was slow and intimidating, purposely drawing out every ounce of fear that he could produce from you. It was only then when you realized your mistake. Your attention returned to the freedom which was illuminated by the flickering street lights. You were just shy of reaching it, maybe a few meters or so. You can do this. The dim light faded as a large figure stepped in front of it, blocking the exit and causing you to gasp. Fuck! Your body was moving fast - too fast for you to stop yourself in time.

The man made no sound as you collided head on with his body, dull pain shot up your chest, making you yell out in surprise. Instinctively, you tried to pull away, fear fuelling your body into clawing and fighting back. His arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you closer, holding you still against him. His other hand grabbed a hold of your flailing wrist, keeping it planted against his chest in some sort of stance that could only be compared to two lovers embracing.

“Let go of me!” You whined, only to feel his grip tighten.

You looked up at him with widened eyes, finally getting a good view of him. You really wished you hadn’t. Your eyes scanned over his face, noting all the scar tissue he had beneath his eyes and along his jawline. The damaged skin was stapled together with the healthy parts, creating some sort of ugly patchwork job. It was also the first time you had been this close to him, and you never realized just how warm he actually was. He heated your skin up like a furnace, warmth seeping out of his clothes and into yours.

Dabi. You heard about him, or rather, read. His pictures were plastered all over the newspapers in Japan.

One side of his lips curled upwards as he looked down his nose at you. You couldn’t tell if he was smirking or snarling at you, but you didn’t really care. You began writhing in his grasp. You kicked at his shins and punched his chest with your free hand, attempting to twist out of his hold.

He didn’t even flinch at your attacks, his only reaction was to laugh at you. His chest rumbled as he kept you pinned, sending a wave of nausea up to your throat. Your face twisted up in anguish, gasping as you placed a hand onto his chest to shove him off. He was hot. So hot .

“Let go of me!” You repeated again.

Seeing how your punches weren’t doing much - you opted for crying out and raking your nails down his chest, catching and pulling on his staples. This time, he let out a low hiss and let go of your waist, moving to grab your other wrist to stop your assault.

“Aren’t you a little treat.” He rasped. His eyes narrowed down to yours, turquoise orbs watching as you tried to take a step back, so you were no longer touching him. He didn’t seem to care for your distaste, knowing that there wasn’t anything for you to do.

You gave him a frightened look, brows pulling together as you looked up at him. You had seen him in the newspapers before, but he was even more terrifying up close. His staples reflected in the moonlight, and his eyes were practically glowing. While he was looking at you with a lazy expression - you could see hints of something you couldn’t quite place. Excitement? Boredom? There wasn’t much time for you to contemplate your next moves, because he was already spinning you around. His chest pressed into your back, while your arms were twisted across your torso, effectively pinning you.

It took you a couple seconds to stabilize yourself, blinking rapidly as you tried to adjust your swaying vision. The fear crawled up your esophagus, threatening to drown you as you became overwhelmed with terror. Calm. Calm. You repeated in your head. Slipping into a panic attack would do little good in your situation, but managing your nervous system was always a challenging task.

“Relax, doll, I got you.” Dabi’s words provided you no comfort - instead, adding fuel to your hysterics.

Your attention snapped back to the end of the alley when you heard a second set of footsteps approaching. Dabi and your fear kept you facing forward as the second figure sauntered towards you. Pale blue shaggy hair was the first thing you noticed, along with the vibrant red shoes that stuck out like a sore thumb in the darkness. You couldn’t really see his eyes, which were blocked by his mop of hair, but you knew that he was staring right at you. His steps reverberated around you - each syllable striking more fear in your heart. It felt like you were counting down the moments to your demise, unable to stop the shiver rolling down your spine. Instinctively, you inched backwards, a pitiful attempt of escape that only drew you closer into Dabi. Your back pressed into his chest, so close that you could feel every grove and staple on him.

The man in front continued honing in on the two of you with precision and intent. Granted, you would have fought sooner if you weren’t so trapped in a daze. However, as the figure became clearer in your line of sight - your eyes settled upon his arms, which were covered by hands that were severed at the wrist. Shigaraki. Reality came crashing down on your head like a ton of bricks. Your nerves coming back with a vengeance - lighting up with such a ferocious drive that you bucked back into Dabi.

“Looks like we’ve caught ourselves a little mouse.” Shigaraki snickered. He halted his movements, hands placed inside his pockets as he studied you. His eyes trailed up and down your figure, as if he were trying to gauge whether or not you were truly a threat. With your cowering expression and quivering form - it was obvious that you weren’t. You were a poor little cop, just trying to get through a shift, and had the back luck of stumbling into something you shouldn’t have. Stupid girl.

You knew the full extent of how much danger you were in right now, the terror creeping into your bloodstream and controlling every aspect of your being. No matter how many hours of briefing and training you had received, you couldn’t ever be prepared enough to handle this. Part of you prayed that your partner - no, the Heroes - would come to your rescue. You knew this wasn’t a situation you could handle on your own, it never was to begin with.

Beneath the mess of hair, his red eyes were almost glowing as looked down at you, mixing with both disinterest and disgust.You inched back slightly, as if the few centimeters would actually protect you from whatever they were going to do. It was a weak attempt that only drew you closer to Dabi - who merely glanced down his nose at you.

Dabi could practically feel the terror radiate off you as he held you, knowing fully that you were thinking of every possible outcome. He noticed you had been shaking before, but with Shigaraki closing the distance on you, your body was almost vibrating as you pushed yourself flush against him. It was entertaining in a sense - you were so scared of Shigaraki that you resorted to gluing onto him for refuge.

“I don’t think she likes you very much. She’s shaking like a leaf.” Dabi bent down closer to you as he spoke, but his words were not intended for you, instead they were directed at Shigaraki.

“Are you scared of Shigaraki, doll?” You can feel his nose prod into the side of your head as he continues to taunt you.

Your body stiffens but you don’t give him a response. You were absolutely horrified. But you feared that displaying any more emotion would further instigate the situation. You could only pray that they just wanted to freak you out a bit, and then hopefully let you go. However, the instincts in your gut and the way they were both looking at you told you otherwise.

“That’s too bad, isn’t it? ” Shigaraki caught your attention as he scratched his neck, eyes boring down onto yours. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to stare back, watching as his blunt nails raked down the dry skin of his neck. “She brought this on herself by meddling in things that don’t concern her.” He looked up to Dabi for a brief second, silently communicating something you couldn’t understand till the last moment.

Oh, no. You repressed a shudder as Shigaraki looked back down at you, the scar on his lips twitching as he smirked.

Before you could respond - or even blink for that matter, Dabi released your arms and shoved you towards his leader. Your arms shot out in attempts to brace yourself as your feet tripped up beneath you, unable to keep pace with the sudden force. A tiny gasp slipped past your lips as you fell forward and into Shigaraki. This is it . You thought. Your eyes slammed shut as you awaited for the embrace of death, expecting to be turned to dust as soon as he touched you.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you found his arms encircled around your waist, pinkies raised to prevent the accidental use of his quirk. You let out a puff of air as your cheek sandwiched against his chest, instantly engulfed with the odor of musk. With your arms completely immobilized between his body and yours - you couldn’t pry yourself away.

“Please. Let me go. I d-didn’t hear or see anything.” You sucked in a shaky breath as you began to plead for mercy. Inadvertently, you sniffed the material that you were pressed against, letting out a strangled cough at the rancid smell that belonged to Shigaraki. Your face scrunched up with such distaste and anguish that even Dabi noticed.

“She really doesn’t like you, eh? Just look at her. She looks like she’s going to puke.” Dabi chuckled at your expression, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

You peered back at the flame Villain, almost as if you were trying to beg him to help. Silently, you tried to bargain for your life, casting a teary-eyed glance to Dabi. You knew this was futile, but you were willing to do just about anything to get away from Shigaraki and his destructive hands. Dabi barely gave you a second look, but knew instantly what you were trying to do. He kept his face impassive as he ignored your non-verbal pleas. There was no way he was going to help you in any way.

You whimpered, turning away when you realized there would be no sympathy from him. Obviously. Instead, you managed to press your palms flat and hard into Shigaraki’s stomach, pushing lightly in hopes of creating some much needed distance between your body and his.

“Is that right?” Shigaraki hummed and jerked you closer to him, seeing your fight as merely an annoyance rather than a threat. Your elbows buckled and you crashed into his body again. “The pretty little cop wants to get away from the disgusting villain?” He gritted as he felt the side of his neck prickle with an itch, the anger beginning to surface at your obvious revulsion of him.

He’d gotten used to the disgusted and false pity stares that society condemned him to - but there was something about your pretentious attitude that irked and made him itch incessantly. The pitiful look on your face reminded him a little too much of how corrupt this world was and how much he wanted to destroy it all. It was clear to him that you absentmindedly aligned yourself with the same views of the Heroes - like a little puppy, blindly following orders from its master. Shigaraki’s thoughts were cruel as he conjured up ways to make you squeal like the pig you were.

With a sadistic grin, his fingers reach towards your chin, gripping it between his thumb and index before tilting your head up to meet his gaze. You noticed he had rings of dry skin around his red eyes and lips, which were peeling, cracked, and had a scar straight across. It had to be a side effect of his quirk - something his body used as a coping mechanism. The sight of him brought you no comfort as you tried to wiggle out of his hold again, pushing at his torso with your palms when he lowered his head to your ear.

“Careful now. You wouldn’t want all my fingers to accidentally touch you with all that squirming, now would you?” He drummed his fingers against your waist, timing it perfectly so that all five of his pale fingers wouldn’t come into contact with you. “It’s not a nice way to go, officer. Trust me, I’ve seen it.”

Your blood ran cold as you stilled yourself, paralyzed by his words and the feeling of his fingers thudding carefully against you. With one simple change in rhythm, you’d be dead. The thought of your life dangling in the arms of a murdering psychopath didn’t do any good for your state of mind. And neither did the sudden feeling of his lips pressing into your hair, which had come undone from its usual ponytail - thick locks tumbling out to frame your pretty face.

“Oh, god. Please, just let me go.” You whispered, wide-eyed and begging.

Shigaraki snickered at your frozen form and took his opportunity in making you feel uncomfortable. His nose poked against the side of your head as he took a deep breath in, shuddering at both the scent of your lingering shower products and your soft mewl of desperation.

“I radioed my partner and he knows where I am. He’ll be here any minute now with backup. Please, let me go and no one has to get hurt.” You found yourself using a new tactic, one you hoped would buy you your freedom.

Shigaraki snorted, blowing a puff of air into your hair. “Radio?”

“It wouldn’t happen to be the same one I saw a few blocks back would it, doll?” Dabi spoke up suddenly. “The shattered one?” He teased with a knowing smile.

Your body stiffened in Shigaraki’s arms and you swallowed. “Yes, that’s the one. It's a protocol for all of us to be in constant communication about our whereabouts. He knows exactly where I am.” You lied smoothly, keeping your face as neutral as you could.

“I don’t think your partner, or anyone for that matter, will be coming for ya’.” Dabi pressed on, leaning lazily against the bricks as he eyed you.

“You’re wrong. Sam will be-” You made the unfortunate mistake of saying his name, too wound up to stop yourself in time.

Shigaraki started laughing suddenly, pulling his face away from you as he let out an unhinged cackle. Confusion washed over your features and you paused, unnerved by the high pitched sound from above you.

“Saving you? Is that what you think?” Shigaraki’s voice was lowering in pitch as he calmed himself from his laughter. “You poor thing.” He mocked. “He couldn’t even save himself. It’s pathetic if you ask me!”

Within seconds, your demeanor had morphed into complete and utter hysterics upon hearing those words. You shook your head violently, fat tears beginning to gather in your eyes as you tried to come to grips with reality.

“What? No. You’re lying. That can’t be…” You whispered as your head began to swirl with apprehension.

“Did you wanna know how Sam cried and begged for his life before I decayed him? Choking and clawing at his own throat.” Shigaraki continued, his lips pulling into a manic smile as he watched the tears roll down your cheeks.

“You’d think someone sworn to protect and serve the public would put up more of a fight, but no!” He took the chance to mock your employment motto with glee, shuddering at your look of despair.

“Geez, you really are an ass.” Dabi mumbled with a roll of his eyes. Whether or not Dabi thought Shigaraki was pushing you too far was irrelevant, because in his own twisted sense - he was enjoying it.

Shigaraki was too occupied by your suffering to pay Dabi any mind.

“You’re fucking insane! He was a good-”

“Good or bad, you and heroes still thrive on violence, just like us. Only difference being that the Heroes are filled with empty ideologies and a false sense of justice that make them foolishly believe that they’re society’s guardians. it's disgusting .” His voice ascended in pitch as he spit the words out like they were poison.

You had been staring blindly at your feet as Shigaraki tormented you with his words. Despite your unmoving stance, your vision swam and clouded with tears. You could barely keep yourself upright as you tried to clear your head. It felt like you were drowning. The muscles in your throat tightened with each swallow. Gone, your partner was gone. Every fiber in your body wanted you to run, scream, and cry, but you remained still and unmoving.

Oddly enough, the sadness in your body began to shift into something more akin to rage. It felt like the switch inside your brain had flipped and you were overwhelmed with cool, shivering hatred. It was all too much. Shigaraki’s hands are still grasping onto you and Dabi’s cool eyes are studying you, but you feel a drift from your body, as if you were just an onlooker.

Murderers. They were murderers.

For the first time in your life, you felt your resolve crumble. You wanted them dead. You wanted them to suffer. They didn’t deserve to be walking and breathing, when your partner was a pile of dust in one of these alleys. He didn’t deserve to die, but they did .

“All quiet now aren’t-”

“What would a villain know about justice? You murdered an innocent man!” You spat, craning your neck to glare right at him. Shigaraki glanced back down at you, not expecting you to speak. “Destruction follows everywhere you go; killing, stealing, and thriving on fear you cause. And you’re delusional enough to think we’re disgusting?” You hissed up at him with so much anger that your body shook. “We protect-”

You screeched when a hand weaved through your hair, suddenly jolting your head back to an unnatural angle. Your neck strained in this position, feeling as if the bones would snap if you didn’t follow his movements. Your pupils blew wide as Shigaraki leered over you and seethed with anger, his extended pinky shaking as he looked to be fighting the urge to dust you. His jaw was clenched as his wild eyes locked onto you. Still angry, you repressed the urge to spit in his face.

“It seems like you’ve forgotten who’s in charge here. You better tread carefully bitch, I’ve killed people for less.” He sneered as his grip tightened to make his point. “You’re stuck living in a fairy tale, unable to see the corruption and rot that your system has caused.” Droplets of spit hit your face as he spoke, rutting his hips against your own to gain back the upperhand in this situation. He wasn’t about to let some idiotic brat like you outsmart him. No. He was the one in charge here. He had all the power. And he was going to make sure you knew it.

Dabi sighed, wanting to speak up before Shigaraki lost complete control and decided to dust you. “The Heroes will fall from their pedestals, even if we have to knock them down one by one.”

You kept your eyes locked with Shigaraki, challenging him silently. You were certainly playing with fire right now, but your mouth was operating on its own accord, not even the lingering threat of turning to dust able to stop the words from coming out.

“The only ones who will fall are y-”

Your voice cut short as Shigaraki sloppily collided his mouth with yours. The awkward action took you by surprise and you gasped against him. Instantly, you were swarmed with his stale breath and cracked lips, planting your fists onto his chest to push him away. He groaned into you and you could tell he was unskilled by the way he messily moved his lips and prodded you with his tongue. The kiss was wet and warm, liquid building up in your tear ducts as you squirmed violently. You had emotional whiplash at the situation, as you were positive he was itching to kill you just a few moments ago, and now he was slobbering all over your mouth.

You caught his bottom lip between your teeth and bit down hard . The skin broke beneath the pressure, your mouth immediately filling up with the bitter taste of his blood as it pooled onto your tongue.

Shigaraki released your hair with a feral growl. It was his turn to be surprised at your brazen behavior, stepping back slightly as his fingers touched his chin before examining the liquid dribbling down his chin.

You glared back at him and against your better nature, you spat the remaining blood in your mouth, hitting the pavement near his feet. “You’re nothing but a petulant little child - crying and whining when you don’t get your way. It’s pathetic.” You hissed, wiping your chin with the back of your hand.

Shigaraki looked at you through rage filled eyes. He should have expected this reaction from you, but figured that you were more bark than actual bite. His chest rising and falling at a pace that indicated he was ready to kill. He could feel every nerve in his body buzzing with adrenaline and anger, aching to pounce and watch your body crumble to dust. Oh, he was going to make you regret that.

“You’re in trouble now, little bitch. I’ll bring you to heel like I should’ve done from the start.” His lips pulled back into a snarl as he stepped forward.

You could see the malicious glee radiate from his darkened gaze, forcing you to take a step back to avoid it. He could’ve caught you in a mere second, but he found pleasure in your look of anger quickly turning into fear as he matched your retreating steps. Shigaraki could practically feel the anxiety coming off your body in waves, sending a sickening shudder down his back. He didn’t usually find pleasure in anything besides destruction and death, but there was something about you that made him want to savor this - despite your bratty demeanor and fake brave facade.

He giggled - high pitched and threatening as he advanced on your trembling form. He never found close contact to particularly be one of his favorites, but he’d make an exception just for you. Shigaraki knew there was no escape for you, which was emphasized by Dabi creeping forwards.

“Get away from me, freak!” You shrieked out of surprise, too focused on Shigaraki closing in on you to notice that Dabi had settled behind you again.

He wasn’t going to let crusty have all the fun, that just wouldn’t do.

“Ah, ah ah. You aren’t thinking of running again are you, doll?” Dabi rasped and you instinctively spun around to face him, meeting his crooked smirk with a grimace of your own.

Dabi stepped forward suddenly, and you stumbled back, brain swimming before you realized Shigaraki was directly behind you now. He took this opportunity to catch you by the collar of your uniform, all five fingers coming into contact with the soft fabric. The material instantly began to unravel and disintegrate into thin air, leaving you in nothing but your bra and a thin layer of dust.

“What are you doing!” You cried out, backing away into the wall between them. Your hands covered your chest in attempts to protect your modesty. Your breathing only escalated at this point, your bare chest doing little to hide the rise and fall of your panicked state.

Both men scan over you, but it's the feral look in Shagaraki’s eyes that scare you the most. You back against the wall, leaning away as he takes slow paces towards you. He hated you, you knew that, but there was a lingering appearance of longing hidden deep within his crimson eyes. It was terrifying when he was angry, since it was so clearly displayed, but this was something completely different. This lustful expression was chilling, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Shigaraki continued until he was only a few inches in front of you, his ebony fingers reaching out to touch your face. His gaze followed the swell of your breasts for a moment, before settling back up to your face. You thought your heart was about to explode out of your chest when you watched Shigaraki’s tongue wet his dry lips. He didn’t need to say anything for you to understand this action, and you started to feel light headed. Your hand balled up into a white-knuckled fist, pulling back slowly to hit his smug face.

Dabi must have had an idea of what you were about to do, because he launched forward and caught your wrist, ending your attempt prematurely with a click of his tongue.

“As much as I would’ve loved to see that, I don’t think it would be wise, doll.” Dabi wrenched your arm back down to your side and placed himself behind you - standing guard with his hands on your shoulders, in case you decided to try it again.

Sandwiched between the two villains, Shigaraki grinned as he moved to run his hands along your waist, his pinkies rising just above your shivering skin. “If you don’t drop that attitude, I’ll have to force it out of you, sweetheart.” You much preferred when he called you a bitch, or anything besides that sick term of endearment.

You held yourself straight, begrudgingly allowing his fingers to trace small patterns. You focused on keeping your face straight and looking directly past him as if he weren’t even there. Shigaraki noticed this and became slightly annoyed at your ignorance. This just wouldn’t do. His palm rested flat against the material of your bra, dusting it just like he had done with your shirt.

A soft sound rumbled in your throat and your eye twitched, but otherwise you said nothing. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. You chanted to yourself, repeating the reassuring words to ground yourself.

Dabi laughed. “Stubborn little thing isn’t she?” He settled his chin in the crook of your neck, causing you to try and shift away, which succeeded in little as Dabi wrapped his hand around your throat. “It looks like we’re gonna have to show ya’ some manners, doll.”

“She’ll learn.” Shigaraki tipped your jaw up with a single finger, watching you through his lashes.

“Don’t touch me.” Shigaraki crouched down, his face level with your stomach. He paid no attention to you as he pressed his tongue flat against your stomach, feeling you shrink back and let out a sharp exhale.

Wet, hot trails of saliva littered up your torso as he dragged the muscle all over your skin. You did your best to remain still at his assault - commanding your body to adhere to your orders had never been such a struggle till now. You had been managing fine, until you felt his tongue prod closer to the top lining of your jeans. The appendage was too close for your liking, resulting in your hips unconsciously shifting backwards from the searing heat.

Dabi let out a pained groan when your ass came into contact with his erection. The brief contact made him twitch and his hand tighten around your neck. He watched you out of the corner of his eye, noticing that you were biting your lip. With his free hand, he pushed the stray hairs away and settled his lips against the curve of your neck. You had been so focused on Shigaraki that you nearly forgot about him - jumping slightly as he pressed open mouthed kisses at the base of your neck.

While the action was not welcomed, the feeling of his lips against your skin made your head fall back into his shoulder. Satisfied with your reaction, Dabi let out a breathless laugh. You could feel the moisture of his breath on your neck, making your eyes flutter shut.

Shigaraki peaked up at you, grinning devilishly as he moved to grab your breasts. His thumbs ran over your peaked nipples before he latched his mouth onto one of them. His tongue flicked over the sensitive skin, causing you to push your chest closer to him. Shigaraki hummed to himself, hollowing out his cheeks to leave dark bruises. He couldn’t hold back the saliva that pooled in his mouth and instead, he let it collect all over your skin. He’d make sure you’d regret calling him disgusting.

“Stop that!” You snapped your head downwards to glare at Shigaraki - narrowly missing Dabi’s head in the process.

Shigaraki pulled away with a giggle, a line of spit connecting his lips to your nipple. “And what makes you so confident to tell me what to do?” He stood to his full height now, towering over you and causing you to bump back into Dabi. “The pretty little cop, all alone with the ugly villains, thinking she can give demands.” Five fingers skimmed across your pants, making them crumble to another pile of dust at your feet.

Your eyes met with Shigaraki, who let out another snort of a laugh. “Don’t move now, I’d hate to ruin the fun by accidentally killing you.” He teased, his fingers looping under the band of your panties as he pulled them down your legs.

His fingers skimmed down your thighs to prove his point, and he began to kiss and lick at your skin, noticing that you were trembling now. With your panties out of the way, he brought them up to his nose and sniffed at the center, his eyes shutting at your tangy odor. You almost keeled over at the sight below you, but Dabi kept you upright with a sharp tug.

“You’re not keeping those are you, creep?” Dabi asked, his lips curling back at Shigaraki’s actions.

“Shut up and hold her still, crispy.” He shot back, tucking the last piece of clothing you wore into his pocket with an annoyed growl.

Dabi rolled his eyes and reached around to grab onto your waist, steadying you as Shigaraki lifted your leg up. You swayed slightly and took hold of Dabi’s forearm, your nails digging into his coat as you tried to balance yourself.

“I got ya’, relax.” He spoke, annoyance riddled in his voice.

Shigaraki moved his attention to your cunt, which you tried to hide by shuffling your foot inwards. He didn’t mind nor care for your refusal, noting that he would deal with it later. He was too consumed with lust and excitement, drool beginning to pool on his tongue at the sight of your mound.

“You sick fuck. You’re not act-” Shigaraki gave you no time to protest as he dove mouth first into your cunt. He latched onto you, his tongue awkwardly poked around at your folds, almost like he didn’t quite know what he was doing. Nonetheless, the sudden intrusion caught you by surprise, causing you to snap your jaw shut.

You could feel his lips curve upwards, the taste of you sending a spike of blood to the tip of his cock. His mouth moved messily against you, sucking in attempts to get more of that sweetness he craved. It was pure bliss. He never imagined you’d taste this good.

His tongue swept up to your clit, which caused you to flinch. He repeated the motion again, this time circling harder over it. You keened into his mouth, involuntarily letting out a small moan at the feeling. Shigaraki snickered against you, focusing his assault on that same spot which made you flutter and gasp. He propped your leg further up, gaining better access to the gathering heat of your pussy.

“Oh, god. S-stop-” You blubbered, arching back.

The sound of your whimpers and soaking heat made him growl, he wanted nothing more than to replay those pretty sounds over and over. His face pressed harder into you, quickly learning where to focus his tongue to make you cry out and gush over his mouth. Your lips parted into an ‘O’ as your hips unconsciously bucked into his face, taking Shigaraki by surprise at your sudden eagerness.

His tongue lapped over your clit a few more times before he buried it into your hole, tasting and sucking the slick that dribbled out. This time, you moaned louder. Shigaraki sucked and lapped at you, drawing out noises that you’d never thought would come out of you. You could feel just how wet you were getting, the skin of your cheeks flushed with a bright blush, stinging beneath your eyes as you soaked his face.

“That’s it, doll. Let it all out.” Dabi began kneading the flesh of your breast as he cooed softly in your ear. His own erection was straining against the front of his pants, poking you in your rear each time you moved.

Shigaraki placed two bony fingers at your entrance before shoving them in hard and fast. His knuckles slammed into you as he fully sheathed himself inside, drawing out a sharp cry. You were not prepared for this and you felt yourself clamp down hard. He continued to slurp at your clit, enjoying the feeling of his fingers barely fitting. He pulled his fingers out slowly, watching his fingers shine bright with your slick.

“You’re pretty soaked for someone who doesn’t want this.” He examined his scissoring fingers, slick connecting his pale digits together before he licked them clean. “You like my ugly face buried in your sweet cunt, don’t you?” Shigaraki placed a chaste kiss on your thigh.

“How’s that ego doing now?” Dabi teased, pinching hard at your nipples. “You’re gushing all over that creep.”

You gritted your teeth together in humiliation. You didn’t know if it was Shigaraki’s or Dabi’s taunting that sent you over the edge. Either way, it was Dabi who was going to suffer. You snapped your head back to connect with Dabi’s chin, eliciting a sickening crack at the sudden contact. He didn’t expect you to pull such a stunt, especially now of all times. He let out a deep snarl of anger that vibrated against your back, before releasing his hold on you.

“How’s your face?” You hissed back, struggling to keep yourself steady. The rattling in your skull didn’t help your now wavering balance, as you were still standing on one leg.

Even with your pussy hovering only a few inches in front of his leader - you were still acting like a brat. Dabi glanced at Shigaraki, who was watching you closely before nodding towards Dabi.

“Down, bitch.” Dabi growled.

Simultaneously, Dabi kicked the back of your knee with his booted foot and Shigaraki let go of your leg. Your knee immediately buckled and you let out a cry of surprise as you lost your balance. Your hands shot out in attempts to stop yourself from falling, but you were too late. You collapsed to the floor, landing hard on your knees before Dabi kicked you into Shigaraki’s lap.

Once again, he caught you, glancing down at you with a smile as you tried to peel yourself off his body.

“It’s game over now, brat.” You continued to struggle in his hold, your palms lifting up to push at his shoulders, but Shigaraki was quick to catch you. His slender fingers wrapping around the back of your neck and tilting his head to give you one last look before forcing your face to his groin.

Despite his lanky appearance, he was quite strong and easily managed to subdue you. Your eyes squeezed shut as Shigaraki let out a low groan, reveling in your helplessness and the feeling of your nose pressing against his clothed erection. Your fists dug into his thighs as you tried to push yourself up, your arms shaking in exhaustion.

Shigaraki gave you another shove, forcing your head back down. “This is nice, don’t you think?” He rubbed small patterns in your hair, carefully tucking his thumb against his palm.

Your eyes stung with tears of humiliation, your ass perched up perfectly for both his and Dabi’s enjoyment. Inadvertently, you breathed in, once again overwhelmed with his musky smell. You let out a quiet sob, the tears burning as they slid down your cheeks.

“She looks much better from this angle.” You heard Dabi rasp from behind you.

With the little strength you could manage from this angle, you turned your neck to look back at him. His attention was focused on the round of your ass, and you could see him palming the front of his jeans. The lewd action made you sob, which Dabi noticed and made him smirk.

Shigaraki was studying you from above, his crimson eyes soaking in every bit of your reactions as he leaned back on his heels. Oddly enough, the look of disgust on your face managed to turn him on even more . His scarred lips cracked into an unnerving grin and he pulled you up by your hair to meet his gaze.

“I want you to suck it.” He ordered.

Your stomach dropped at his words and you felt the tears finally start to stream down your cheeks. “Please…” He gave you no time to beg, already stripping himself free of his pants and guiding you down.

You find yourself hovering directly above his cock, staring at it with widened eyes. You didn’t know he’d be this big. You swallow hard and tentatively reach out to stroke him, your fingers barely managing to wrap around his girth. He lets out a sharp hiss of air at the feeling of your soft hands and bucks forward. Another choked sob escapes your lips and your tears fall onto his legs as you continue to stroke slowly.

Shigaraki lets out a disgruntled growl and tightens his grip on your hair. “I told you to suck it, idiot.”

Shakily, you stick your tongue out and run it over the tip of his cock. The mix of his sweaty skin and precum leaves a salty taste on your tongue, making you cringe. Your mouth parts more as you try to adjust your jaw for his size, but Shigaraki was impatient. His hips suddenly jut forward and you gag, feeling his entire length force its way into your throat. Your hands slap against his thighs and you begin to breathe through your nose. Shigaraki lets out a low moan at your throat clenching around him.

Tears blur your vision and snot runs down your nose. Shigaraki didn’t care, too wrapped up in the pleasure of your wet mouth sucking him off. You were his toy now, and he was going to do whatever he pleased with you.

Dabi could feel his dick twitch with every whine and strangled gasp you made. The confinements of his jeans were getting a little too tight for his liking, so he made quick work of unbuckling his belt and freeing himself. He trailed two fingers up and down your slit, smirking as you slick gathered on his digits. A squeak traveled up your throat, muffled by Shigaraki’s cock stuffing it full as you felt Dabi’s fingers prod at you.

“You’re drenched, doll. Are you enjoying this? Hm? Getting raped by two Villains at the same time?” Dabi’s fingers pushed past the tight muscle of your pussy, embedding them deep inside you. He curled his digits up and brought them in and out slowly, shuddering at your suffocating walls tightening around him.

Your throat vibrated with a low moan, saliva pouring out the sides of your mouth as you could no longer hold it in due to the girth of Shigaraki’s cock resting against your tongue.

“You’re so fucking tight, but don’t worry, I’ll stretch ya’ out.” His fingers left your sopping hole before you felt something much larger settle against you. Your eyes widened and you tried to pull away from both of them.

Shigaraki hissed as your teeth grazed against him, the foreign feeling causing him to jerk forwards and deeper down your throat. You pitifully looked up at him, eyes bloodshot from crying and gagging.

The distraction allowed for Dabi to plunge into you, fully bottoming out and slamming against your cervix. You immediately screamed, eyes wide and unseeing as your back bowed to the ground.

“Fuck! That’s it.” Dabi had you by your hips, keeping you pinned while he rocked towards you.

Your core burned in anguish, giving you barely any time to adjust to his size as Dabi’s cock dragged up and down your walls, moaning as your pussy greedily sucked him in. You felt like you were going to pass out, both of your holes stuffed beyond their limit and catching you out of breath.

The sight almost made Shigaraki bust his load down your throat, but he managed to suppress it. He wasn’t about to prematurely end this little game just because he couldn’t control himself, so he pulled himself out of your mouth with a wet plop. The tip of his cock throbbed painfully, deepening in color with the amount of blood arousal pumping to the head.

You gasped like a fish, gulping down as much air as your lungs could handle. Oxygen had never tasted quite so sweet until now, considering you were on the verge of passing out. Your hand shakily moved up to wipe your nose and mouth, grimacing when Dabi bottomed out again. Your chest bounced with the swift force, giving Shigaraki a clear view from above.

“What a mess.” He kept his hands on your head, silently warning you not to move.

You struggled to keep pace as Dabi’s movements refused to slow. With your mouth freed, Dabi took the opportunity to make you scream. The enlarged head of his cock slammed back into your cervix, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that had you heeling over Shigaraki’s lap. You clawed at his thighs, digging your nails into his skin.

“Please! It hurts!” You sobbed, but dared not to look back, knowing that you’d only make things worse for yourself.

“Begging now?” Dabi grunts, “It’s not like you can do anything about it- just relax and enjoy it.” He says between breaths, struggling to keep his voice steady. The depth of his strokes make you cry, and you try to crawl away. You don’t get far, Dabi sees to that by dragging you back with a growl.

“I-I can-can’t. Please, stop!” Dabi’s arm moves to cradle your stomach, his other hand dipping down to your cunt, eagerly searching for your clit. This angle only draws him in deeper, but the soft circles that his fingers trace along your clit lessen the pain. His steady rhythm and lingering heat of his fingers make it harder to control the building pressure. You weren’t sure who you hated more, Dabi or Shigaraki. Both of them could rot in hell .

“Does that feel nice?” Shigaraki coos. The knotting in his stomach is calming down, and he's almost ready to watch you choke on his cock again, but your not so subtle attempts to hide your pleasure has him enchanted. The way your eyebrows twitch and mouth open in awe almost make him bust at the sight.

Ever so slightly, he tilts your head up with a gentle tug. Obediently, you open your eyes, briefly noticing his scar twitch as he opens his mouth. A string of spit falls from his lips before you can close your mouth, landing on your tongue while the remnants drip down your chin.

“Swallow it.” His eyes challenged.

“Ngh-” Your eyes fluttered shut, throat clenching as you swallowed it back. Gross.

“Good girl.” Shigaraki was done with his mind games. He lined himself back up, confident that he could last slightly longer.

You granted him access, kissing and licking at him in hopes that he’d cum quick. Your tongue pressed flat on his underside, rubbing up and along the vein that thumped with each stroke. You knew he was getting close, and so were you. Dabi was working quicker on your clit, your body ignoring every cue from your brain to stop. You had no control, and felt the effects of your orgasm wash over you. You tensed, clenching down on Dabi and making him groan, eyes rolling back at the feeling.

“That’s it, doll. You’re- gonna make me-” Dabi hissed, following your orgasm with his own moments later. He’s never come that fast before, and to be honest, he was a little embarrassed.

You moaned, feeling the heat of his cum drench your insides. Hot. It was so hot . He twitched as he filled your pulsating cunt, drawing out a handful of curses from him. You cried out, muffled sounds escaping your mouth. Tears soaked your face as you rode out your high, feeling Dabi pull out of your sopping hole and release you. A mixture of his and your own cum ran down your thighs, causing you to shudder. He stayed behind you, in case you had any bright ideas while he was stuffing himself back into his pants.

Shigaraki laughed, rutting himself against your face, taking you by surprise as your nose collided with his pubic bone. You let out a strangled cough, slamming your hands onto his thighs as you struggled to breathe through your blocked nose.

“I knew you’d be fun -ah- knew it.” Shigaraki pushed your head so far down that you gagged, tears overflowing and blurring your vision.

His hips thrusted forward, releasing a low growl as he spilled himself down the back of your throat. You coughed, quickly swallowing it all back in fear of your body accidentally spitting it back up. It was salty, and felt heavy as it traveled down your throat and settled in your stomach.

The moment his hand left the back of your head, you threw yourself away and wiped your lips. There was a lingering taste of him invading your tongue, which you knew would take you months to wash away.

Curled up against the wall, you shielded your head in your arms, tucking yourself behind your shivering form. You didn’t bother looking up when you heard their footsteps, instead, you remained still and awaited death.

“It seems like your time wasn’t wasted afterall.” You heard the familiar rasp of Shigaraki. He wasn’t talking to you, but you could feel a tinge of something in your gut at his words.

You felt something crouch beside you, peering over you like a hawk. You tilted your head slightly, glancing up at Dabi as he examined you. “Not the type of recruit I had in mind, but she’ll be useful.” He patted your head, brushing matts of hair away from your eyes. “In other ways.”

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