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bunny-xoxo · 6 months

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Take It Slow

MINORS DNI

Yuuta Okkotsu x afab!reader

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): established relationship, friends to lovers implied, heavy petting, fingering, masturbation, oral (reader receiving), choking (reader receiving), instance of breath play as a result, slight corruption kink from Yuuta, inexperienced reader, a single instance of slightly mean Yuuta, reader’s chest anatomy is not referenced/described

a/n: first NSFW piece in a VERY long time, was picked from the poll so here you go! hope you all enjoy :)! Also jus wanna say there is NOTHING weird or wrong about being a virgin at any age just so you guys know <33 🫶 also in case it needs to be said, this is an unrealistic portrayal of participating in kink for the first time! Boundaries and safety should be discussed at length before these things, but this is fiction so just wanted to make that clear 😭🤍 anyways enjoy <3

“Yuuta, stop! I don’t wanna talk about it!” You whined and buried your face further into his chest hoping to spare yourself of the embarrassment from the conversation you’re sure the two of you are about to have.

“Sweetheart, I’m your boyfriend, you knew it was gonna come up sooner or later. Besides, you’re literally the one who started the conversation! There’s no way you’re getting out of it now.” He let out a few boyish chuckles as he tried to pry your face away from him and out of the covers, just to see you pressing your lips together and closing your eyes in protest.

Sure, did you figure at some point the fact you haven’t gone farther than holding hands and sharing a few quick pecks was gonna be brought up? Probably. Especially after 4 whole months of being in a relationship? Maybe. Did you think it’d be right now? No! But is it your fault? Unfortunately, yes.

You’d known Yuuta long before the two of you started dating, having been apart of his friend group since freshman year of high school, and you’ve always had a secret crush on your friend. He was kind, never failed to make you smile, charmingly awkward (so charming you almost thought he faked it), & all things endearing. It wasn’t until a few months ago, now in your fourth and final year at University, that the two of you had confessed your feelings for the other. You had a bottle of tequila and Maki to thank for that.

And honestly, it couldn’t have been more perfect since. He was still sweeter than ever, a complete gentleman always, and even though it’d only been a couple months he’s never failed to make you constantly feel cared for and appreciated. There was only one problem: how were you supposed to tell him you’ve lied about every instance of you hooking up ever? And you haven’t even done so much as grind on someone, let alone fuck?

Maybe you could blame it on Yuuji, he’s the one who brought it up the first time anyways, innocently teasing you about how “you probably don’t even know how to give head”. He was 16, and all 16 year old boys are stupid as shit - besides Yuuta you suppose - so you’ll forgive him for it.

“Fuck you Yuuji, you’re just saying that cause you’re embarrassed you can’t last longer than 10 seconds inside a girl.”

“That literally happened once, and it was my first time! What, you’re telling me your first time was any better?”

It was just humiliating to think of looking at your friends, who definitely weren’t virgins anymore (besides Toge, maybe Toge, you never really trusted his whole story - but that’s beside the point), and tell them yeah no, I haven’t even seen a dick in person!

“No, he was ass, too.” You did your best to not draw attention to the way your palms were sweating profusely, fighting every instinct in you to wipe them off on the denim of your jeans.

“Yep, fits the bill.” Mai rolled her eyes at the thought of her own experience with a man, must’ve been pretty bad.

It’d make more sense to blame it on your age than Yuuji really, looking back it wouldn’t have been embarrassing for more than a couple weeks at most to have admitted you were a virgin when the matter was pressed. But that’s not what past you thought, and now it’s current you’s problem.

“I know, I know, but now I change my mind. I shouldn’t have said anything.” Your lips are pushed out and puckered slightly from the way Yuuta has your cheeks squished together - his best effort at making you smile right now.

He lets go of your cheeks to squeeze your shoulder gently, looking at your face for a moment before speaking softly.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? I’d never judge you for anything, make comments, nothing. Swear on it.” His voice dipped low with sincerity as he dramatically “crossed his heart and hoped to die”, it was a little goofy but that’s okay.

It was hard to speak while he was staring down at you like that, you knew he’d be nothing but gentle and kind, but the thought of actually talking about it made your stomach twist ‘n turn.

“Uh”, your voice trembled more than you’d like to admit and it did nothing to help your nerves, “I guess I asked what you’d do if I lied about not being a virgin cause, I’m, like, a virgin. Yeah.” You might’ve stumbled through your sentence, but you got there eventually.

His hand continued to rub circles on your skin as he spoke, “Well, I kind of figured that much when you first asked that, cause why else would you. Is that all you wanted to tell me though?”

Glancing up to meet his eyes, you were confused, visibly confused. Was that it? Was he really not gonna pester about why you lied, when you lied, or why you’re grown and still a virgin?

You squinted your eyes and hummed quietly, unreasonably suspicious of him - which he could clearly see.

Rolling his eyes playfully, he groaned out your name and pulled your face close to his so you couldn’t escape him even if you wanted to.

“Ya know, I was kind of talking about the first question you asked me. The one before you cut me off and changed the subject with the whole ‘I’m a virgin thing.’ I want to talk to you about that.”

You’re sure you were listening, it’s just that his face was so close to you that his breath was intermingling with yours, and you could practically taste the gum he was chewing while studying earlier. Not only that but his eyelashes were so pretty and doll like from this angle, looking up at him with his hands still on your cheeks. And his hands were so warm and soft - or was your face warm?

“Are you really ignoring me right now?” He wondered where your mind wandered to, cause clearly with the way you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes and invisible stars circling around your head - you couldn’t have been listening to him.

“Huh?”

Yeah, you definitely weren’t listening to him.

“Baby, are you okay with talking about what you asked me earlier? It’s okay if the answer is no.” His eyes were glued to your face as your own darted around the room.

You wanted to speak up but your throat was dry and your face was hot, and honestly it felt like your jaw was wired shut; a simple nod will have to do.

It felt like the room was getting smaller at the lack of a response from Yuuta until you felt him lean just a tad closer and gently press his lips to your cheek, “would you rather me show you how I take care of myself, or tell you?”

Oh.

Goosebumps rose along the back of your neck and down your arms at the soft volume of his voice in your ear and the way his breath fanned across your cheek.

“Both, please.” The tenor of your voice matched his as your hands fiddled nervously with the hem of your shirt, unsure what to with them while he moved to give you a kiss and sit up in front you.

The embarrassment of how you asked Yuuta how to give a hand job from earlier began to fade and be replaced with curiosity and eagerness at the sight of Yuuta reaching down to palm at himself.

It was still embarrassing, staring so shamelessly at his growing bulge in obvious intrigue and desire, but it was Yuuta, and Yuuta would never make you feel bad for having human urges and wanting him in this way.

Hesitantly, once he was ready, he tugged at the fabric of his pajama pants until he was fully exposed. He was happy you were so needy and awe struck at the sight of him, because your undivided attention to the way his cock sits in his hand is making him blush.

He spreads his legs just as much as the stretch of his bottoms let him while he dips forward to drip spit in the direction of his lap, his wrist catching the fabric of his shirt and exposing a tease of his lower stomach as he spreads the spit along the length of his cock. Leaning back into a more comfortable position, you take in the way he’s exposed himself to you, his stomach visibly clenching as he rubs his thumb along the slit at the tip of his cock.

It was firm in his hand, and you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together from where you sat watching at the vulgarity of it all. His loud and unashamed whimpering, his leaking and twitchy cock, and the way his eyes were never closed, always watching your face, when you would flick your own up to get a peek at his reactions.

You thought maybe he’d be a little more bashful, slow and careful with what he wanted to show you, but if anything, it seems like he’s been waiting for you to ask.

“You like watching me stroke my cock, hm baby?”

Your clit began to throb at the sudden recognition and reminder that you’re involved just as much as he is, as well as the sound of him speaking, and speaking directly at you.

“Answer me angel, even a nod’s okay. Wanna make sure my baby’s feeling good.” His voice was hoarse, but soft, and the sentiment did nothing more than increase your arousal and send butterflies rampant in your stomach.

Settling further into the situation, and gaining some confidence in return, you make your way over to him slowly as you nod your head.

“Want you to tell me, Yuuta.” Your voice is small, quiet.

“Tell you what, pretty?”

He’s got an air of fake innocence around him as he speaks but you couldn’t care less when you’re so close that you can hear his soft and barely audible panting, and smell the light scent of musk and sweat begin to gather along his clothed skin from his excitement and exertion. You’d give him anything he wants at this point, and you’re certain he knows it.

“Yuuta,”, you whine and move in his direction, hovering over his lap with his cock not quite close enough to press against your covered cunt as he strokes himself, “want you to tell me how it feels.”

The pair of you groan together at the lewdness of it all, both of you reveling in the freedom to finally explore your deep attraction for another, no longer embarrassed or fearful to admit or indulge in it.

“Fuck, feels so good baby. ‘M so hard with you watching me like this. You like knowing you’ve got me and my cock this needy without even touching me?” Whining at his response, you lean into him and sloppily place your lips on his, ignoring the urge to smack him on his chest as he chuckles a, “yeah?”, into your mouth at your eagerness.

You both kiss, messy and loud, as you reach and drag your hand down his torso, lightly drawing circles onto Yuuta’s exposed lower stomach with your fingertips.

A strained groan comes from him at the sensation, sighing into your mouth as he sits up to be impossibly closer to you. It was all too much.

He could feel the heat from your body as your thighs squeeze him from each side, hear the crude noises your pussy makes each time you adjust, and he could just imagine how needy your poor cunt would smell. Feeling his stomach tighten and his head get cloudy, he knew he was close, and he wanted you to watch.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me come baby.” Yuuta’s lips were soft and slick with spit as he spoke against yours, while you felt a hand slide from the back of your neck up to the top of your head, turning you to face down and stare at the way his fist was feverishly tugging at his cock.

“Want my sweetheart to watch how hard they’re gonna make me come, how good they’re taking care of me and my cock.” His voice was strained and low, out of breath, and if you weren’t desperate to watch his cock get some release, you would have protested at the sudden lack of kissing.

“Please, need you to show me baby.” You whined and wrapped your hand around Yuuta’s wrist gently, moving in time with the way he was stroking himself.

Hearing your voice was all he needed to let himself go, throwing his head back and getting his sternum sticky with cum as it stained his t-shirt. His balls and cock twitched as he slowed down his movements, whining when he rubs the tip once more, not wanting it to be over. If it wasn’t for the way you were still hovering over his lap, he would’ve let himself stay like this for a while longer, catching his breath and resting his eyes.

But he could see how bad you needed him, your chest heaving and your body hot against his.

Pulling you into his chest, he speaks against your shoulder softly between gentle kisses, “Want me to take care of you too, baby?”

Your body jolts at the prospect, nerves riddling your muscles and your stomach, making you feel almost weak. The thought made you self-conscious just as much as it made you feel exhilarated, but you couldn’t deny the way your cunt was throbbing and hot. You needed him bad, and you could trust Yuuta. You always could.

Words were too hard, like they often were with him in intimate moments like this (the thought of your first date briefly crosses your mind), so you substitute a pleading “yes” for another messy, longing kiss.

“I got you angel,”, was all he said before you were leaned back on the pillows, Yuuta hovering above you with soft wisps of his hair tickling the sides of your face.

You knew you could trust Yuuta, he always knows what his baby needs.

Delicate fingers graze across your side until they reach the waist band of your bottoms, running back and forth along the top as Yuuta chuckles softly at the way your stomach twitches, waiting for a sign of permission.

A warm hand tugging Yuuta’s in the direction of your heat is all he needs before sliding his hand between your thighs to rub heavy and slow circles onto your clit beneath your shorts.

“Oh, god.” You breathe out and close your eyes, letting him take his time in making you feel good.

Your hole ached every time he dipped a finger down to tease your entrance, gathering more of your arousal to rub into your puffy clit. He was such a tease even when he didn’t mean to be, couldn’t he tell you needed him inside? Can’t he imagine how empty your poor hole feels? Doesn’t he know how often you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers or favorite toy, imagining it’s really him inside instead?

“Yuuta.”

The desperate call of his name makes his stomach flip, eyes quickly searching across your face for a sign of discomfort, “‘M here baby, what do you need?”

Sitting up slowly, your face stops inches from his as you shimmy your way out of your bottoms. Laying back down, you open your legs wide and spread your pussy for Yuuta to see, another hand rubbing at your clit slowly.

“‘S too empty, baby.” You fight back the hot wave of embarrassment that floods your body at your crudeness and use all your will power to stay still, cunt on full display, as you watch Yuuta’s breath quicken and his hand snake down to tug at his cock again despite the slight sensitivity he’s still feeling.

He doesn’t give you much time to linger on your sheepishness before you’re tugged further down the bed by the grip he takes on both of your thighs, his tongue impatiently shoved into your mouth with a loud whimper. You both stay like this a little while longer than you would have liked, his tongue running along the inside of your mouth before he has yours between his lips, switching between sucking on it loudly and licking at the saliva that drips down onto your chin.

God, he was so dirty.

Unable to beg for more, you attempt to wrap your legs up and around his midsection, hoping he’ll catch the hint, but instead you’re stopped by a firm placement of his hand on your inner thigh.

“‘Scuse me, beautiful.” His voice is hoarser than before as he speaks softly against your neck, leaving hasty kisses on any exposed skin while scooting down the bed, landing with his face between your legs.

You could have cried when you felt his tongue poke and prod at your hole, pushing in and moaning loudly before licking long and slow up to your clit. His tongue flicks back and forth as he keeps your lips spread with one hand, deciding to then take his time licking and dragging his tongue between every fold before coming back to suck on your clit.

A strangled groan vibrates deep within your chest as you tug on his hair to bring him impossibly closer to your cunt, as if he needed to devour you whole, while you no longer fought the way your hips were grinding down and writhing beneath Yuuta’s grip. It’s not until you finally feel a finger push inside, slender and slow, that you begin to incoherently beg and whine for more.

It doesn’t take many half-spoken pleas for him to get the idea you need more.

“Ah, Yuuta!” You whimper and internally battle between trying to squirm away and press yourself even further into his mouth, overwhelmed by the pleasure of his two fingers inside pumping in and out of you with his mouth nipping and sucking at your clit.

He sits up, kneeling between you to watch the way you take what he’s giving you.

“Yeah?”, his voice is uncharacteristically cocky and out of breath, “Feels good, baby?”

He was going to be the death of you.

If it wasn’t for the way Yuuta was placed between your thighs, your efforts to clamp them shut would be working. It was all too much, but so fucking good.

“Ah- fuck, oh, oh my god - Yuuta please make me come. Wanna come so bad!” You arch your back and attempt to sit up to reach him, needing him closer, but a hand on your chest pushes you back down and slides up until it rests wrapped around your throat.

“Mmm, I’ll give it to you baby, just want you stay right there. Wanna see what you look like when I make you finish for the first time.” His hand wasn’t holding tight, it was merely keeping you in your spot beneath him, but you wanted him to grab you tighter.

With a shaky hand, you reached to hold onto his wrist like your life depended on it,

“Please choke me.”

His fingers stopped curling into you for maybe a second before he continued, his mouth parting slightly as a gentle moan fell from his lips.

Did you really just ask him that?

You closed your eyes in bliss when he squeezed gently, instinctually doing your best to grind down onto his hand, but it wasn’t enough.

“T-tighter, please.”

It took everything in you to open your eyes and see his reaction, a slight amount of shame building up in your stomach for requesting something that felt so dirty - but all embarrassment fizzled out where it sat when you saw the way he was staring down at you.

Nothing was said as he squeezed you tighter and tighter until you let out a choked moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Tap me twice if it’s too much.” You’re not sure when he leaned down to speak lowly to you, but his breath fanning across the side of your neck and face sends chills down your body.

You’re so lost in the pleasure of it all you can only nod when he takes your hand to show you exactly how he wants you to tap against his wrist if you can’t take it anymore.

He sits back up and smiles to himself as he takes you in. You look so.. so.. so pathetic like this. And what, all because he’s got two of his fingers fucking your pussy? Cause he’s the first person to ever make you feel this way?

The latter thought makes his dick twitch and pick up the pace of his fingers until even you can register the crude squelching coming from between your thighs. Thankfully for you, you’re too full of bliss to care - fuck you were so close, and he knows it, too.

Your eyes shoot open when his grip is tightened even more, making it so you can only take in shallow and shaky breaths.

“Gonna have to come around my fingers if you want me to loosen up.” It wasn’t a question of how much you could take, it was a matter of how far you wanted him to go to make you see stars. And apparently this was it with the way he could feel you clench around him at his words, your thighs starting to thrash and shake.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty. My dirty little cunt, huh?” His voice was so misleadingly soft. His register was still high, slightly whiny, but you knew it was all to mock you and your fucked out state. If anything, Yuuta was the one being so dirty, and you were thankful for it.

It was hot, so hot, and you could hear your heart pounding in your head, and you could feel how tight you were clenching around his fingers.

Unable to fight off the feeling and attempt to last a second longer, your body shook as you came hard around Yuuta’s fingers, your nails digging into the forearm of the hand still wrapped around your throat. He kept it there for a brief few moments into your orgasm before letting go to immediately bring his fingers down to your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm for as long as you could handle.

The first full breath you took was loud and followed by an even louder mantra of thank you’s and please’s. It took a soft and slow kiss from Yuuta to quiet your whimpers, and warm, and undeniably semi-sticky hands, rubbing tenderly into your thighs and arms.

You both stayed like that for a while, Yuuta above you with his hands rubbing your muscles carefully, kissing slow and catching your breath while sharing gentle sentiments of love and reassurance. Much to your surprise, you were the first to speak a full sentence as you both relaxed into a more comfortable position.

“Ya know”, your voice had a slight hoarseness to it now, most likely from your earlier activities, “I don’t think I like knowing someone else has gotten to see you like this.”

He brings his head up to rest on his palm with a crooked smile, leaning forward until his lips ghosted over yours as he spoke,

“Yeah? You the jealous type baby?”

This time, you did smack him. And hard.

“Ow?” Yuuta pouts, pretending to be appalled, and rubs circles into his chest as if you had actually smacked him hard enough to feel like anything more than a friendly pat.

His request for an apology is brushed off and amended with a kiss, from which you receive no protest, as you sink further into the comfort of his embrace and, now dirty but once very clean, sheets.

“How about we clean up n get some rest, okay baby?” He sounds distant and quiet when he speaks, his heartbeat louder in your ears than his voice with your head pressed into his chest.

Sighing and shaking his head, he leans down to kiss the top of your head with a small smile. Laundry and a shower can wait a few more minutes if it means he gets to have you like this for even a little bit longer.

——————

taglist: @plutowrites @alert-arlert (I think you asked to be tagged in this??? If not I’m sorry !! This was like a literal year ago I started this so 😭🫶) @touyaz (only cause you liked the snippet 🤭) if you’d like to be added just lemme know!!

#tw choking #tw breath play #jjk smut #yuuta x reader #yuuta smut #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #yuuta okkotsu smut

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brittsacademia · 1 year

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• Title: You're My Bitch Tonight

• Pairing: Sub!Dabi X Dom!Reader

• Summary: You couldn't remember what prompted you to snap, but one thing you did know was that you'd make a bottom bitch out of Dabi.

• Word Count: 8,980

Notes: Here it is! The offspring of my current Dabi brain rot and life frustrations! Enjoy the filth, this came out way longer than I originally anticipated. It was supposed to be a short Drabble at first, then I got out of hand. Oops.

Minors, DNI. NSFW under the cut.

Dabi. An A-ranked villain, former leader of the League of Villain's Vanguard Action Squad, and current lieutenant of the Paranormal Liberation Front's Violet Regiment — one of Japan's most wanted. He was a dangerous guy, one that could set fire to the skies and watch with a bored, unbothered glint in his eyes as the ashes of his victims dispersed with the wind.

This was a man set on revenge, one who would stop at nothing to ensure his success. None could stand between him and his goal, less they'd want to face the consequences — an agonizing demise; burned alive with no mercy.

He was a man who held all of the world's hatred in his eyes. A single glance from Dabi would be enough to make even the bravest of heroes second-guess their courage, wondering if their life was worth the attempt at capturing the blueflame user.

Dabi. A man who has killed over thirty innocent people with a straight face, and you knew for sure that more bodies would be added to that ever-growing list.

That's what the news and public said, and you supposed that yeah, they all had a very valid point. It was the truth.

You blinked, looking down at that very man — that very danger to society. Your lips twitched, threatening to break out into a sadistic grin. Your stomach fluttered with excitement because, at the moment, Dabi was none of those things.

Straddling his thighs as he laid on your bed, you never broke his gaze, remaining nonchalant as those pretty cerulean eyes of his narrowed at you with pure anger. You were sure that, should he have the capability of speaking, he'd be spouting some colourful words to express his disdain.

The dark room was illuminated by a hue of (colour) that emitted from your body due to your quirk. The abstract markings adorning your arms glowed, signalling the activation of your quirk, as did your eyes. You knew you lacked pupils at the moment — an aesthetic side effect — and it made you feel like some sort of divinity.

Disembodied, ghost-like hands of the same, faint colour held Dabi by the wrists, pining them above his head. You wouldn't even allow him full control of his legs as another pair of hands held them down; you didn't want to give him the opportunity to squirm much, after all.

And you figured that, since you could produce and control six hands at a time, why not clamp one down on his mouth? Shut him up, for once. It had been your initial goal, but it had escalated.

What had you been arguing about prior to this? You couldn't even quite remember, but that wasn't your preoccupation at the moment. All you could focus on was just how fucking turned on you were at the thought of having full control for once.

His words came out as inaudible, muffled grunts. You tilted your head, fingers tapping at your chin in mock contemplation.

"I dunno, babe. You look right at home down there," you said, voice nothing short of condescending. "If I had known that you'd look this pretty, shit, I woulda done this much sooner."

Of course, you got no coherent response, only sounds resonating from deep within his chest.

"Great. I'm glad we finally agree on something," you said, nodding as you pretended to have a normal conversation.

Dabi's stare hardened — obvious disagreement.

You raised a brow as you watched the hands holding him down glow brighter before dimming once more, signalling his attempt at using his own quirk. The sad display beneath you made you laugh.

"Babe, c'mon. Seriously? You know your quirk won't work while mine is latched onto you," you said before shrugging and making a vague hand gesture. "But by all means, go ahead and feed me more strength. It makes things even more fun."

A sixth hand materialized, slipping beneath his shirt and slithering its way up his torso. It reached his face, tenderly cupping his cheek before offering a few patronizing smacks. They weren't rough, by any means, but they had their desired effect of making Dabi's eyes glimmer with violence.

"Okay, okay," you nodded, mostly to yourself. "I think I'll let you speak a little."

You removed the hand that had been latched to his mouth, sliding it down his neck where you could feel his racing pulse; he was into it, but over his dead body he'd admit it.

Now able to speak, Dabi didn't skip a beat. "What the fuck?" He spoke the words slowly, drawing out every syllable with a low tone in a show of frustration.

"What?" You sneered. "I thought you got off when I'm pissed, so what gives, huh? Can't handle it now that I'm the one who's decided to put you in your place?"

"My place, huh?" He chuckled in disbelief, shaking his head. "Wanna try that again, sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry, I guess I should speak more clearly," you said, placing yourself atop the growing bulge in his jeans. You leaned forward, pressing your chest against his as your lips inched closer to his ear. "Your rightful place as a little bottom bitch."

"Fuck y— hmph."

Dabi didn't get to finish his sentence as you slipped cold fingers into his mouth, nearly hitting the back of his throat. Although the hand wasn't attached to your body, you could still feel the wet, slimy texture of his tongue.

"You can bitch all you want, Dabi, but we both know you're enjoying this as much as I am," you said, sitting straight before rolling your hips against his for emphasis.

You could have sworn that you saw his eye twitch, and you weren't quite sure if it was from arousal or anger. It was then that you softened in the slightest, sliding your hands — your real ones — up and down his sides soothingly as you removed the fingers from his mouth.

"... You know you can tell me to stop, right?" You said, making it clear that, although you were mad at him, you weren't there to make him uncomfortable either.

Dabi looked you in the eye, brows still firmly furrowed, as he held your gaze before casting a glance to the side. It was as if he were ashamed of his predicament and the conflicting feelings swirling inside of him. His mind screamed at him that this new territory wasn't for him, that he'd much rather have you all bent over for him to take his frustration out on your cunt. On the other hand, however, his cock said the opposite, nearly begging him to give in and see where this would go.

Fuck, he'd be a liar if he said that you looked anything but hot at the moment.

Eventually, he settled on his classic, shit-eating smirk. "Fine. Go ahead and have your little power trip. Enjoy it while it lasts, 'cause you know damn well what I'm gonna do to you when this is over."

"I think you're a little confused there. You should be more concerned with what I'm going to do to you," you said with a tilt of your head. "If, for whatever reason, you can't talk, try using your quirk if you want to stop. I'll notice."

“You're being awfully soft for someone who claims to be pissed with me," he said, still being a nuisance. You wondered if it was just Dabi being himself, or if he was being a brat as part of his play. Both, probably.

You smiled; it lacked any warmth, only holding a warning. "Don't worry. I won't be playing soft for too long."

Not being able to move his arms, Dabi gestured with his head, sneering. "Then impress me, sweetheart."

You chuckled. Poor thing didn't know what you had in mind for him, now that you had the green light for full control. That bratty attitude of his? It'd be gone. His pride? Shattered. His mind? So fucking broken.

Ghostly hands that had made their way down to the hem of his shirt, teasingly fiddling with the fabric, now had a firm grasp as they began to lift the clothing up above his head before disappearing into thin air. You made sure to relish in every bit of skin — every purple patch and glistening staple — that was revealed to you. Your gaze was piercing, unwavering and studious, but no less appreciative; it made Dabi swallow hard.

You leaned forward again, lips hovering over his. "I don't think you'll be disappointed."

In an attempt to salvage any remnants of control he had, Dabi pressed his lips to yours in a hard, passionate kiss that took both your breaths away. You allowed his tongue to flick against yours before he licked at the roof of your mouth, offering a pleasant tickling sensation that travelled down between your legs.

As much as you enjoyed his tongue inside your mouth, you had enough of this. You wouldn't allow him to think he had an edge over you, and so, as he attempted to slip his tongue deeper into your mouth, you pulled away, closing your lips around his tongue. You sucked at the muscle as you backed away, and you heard a frustrated grunt escape Dabi as you did so.

You smirked and pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips. You edged closer to his ear, making sure to barely brush your lips against the skin of his face as you made your way up there. You were sure that he could feel the way you grinned, unable to hide your excitement from the sudden rush of power traversing your body.

Your tongue dragged along his earlobe, pulling a deep sigh from Dabi. Kissing down his cheeks to his jawbone, you made your way to his neck, and you slowly licked down his pulse point, leaving a glistening trail of saliva in your wake before sinking your teeth into the junction between his neck and shoulder. You nicked his collarbone — a sensitive area of his — with your tongue closely following to soothe the little marks you left across his body. Beneath you, Dabi's hips shifted, cock jumping at the attention. You could feel the way his thighs tensed, and you just knew that every fibre of his being wanted to pin you down.

But he was powerless — powerless against you, an ordinary civilian — and fuck, seeing someone like Dabi being reduced to something so pathetic was a work of art that you were dying to immortalize.

"You're lucky I'm letting you do this," Dabi grumbled.

"Mhm," you hummed, barely acknowledging his words. All bark, no bite. Not that he could bite at the moment.

And a ghost hand was back to his mouth, silencing him. You felt his warm tongue licking into the palm of the hand — a feeble attempt at deterring you. You quickly glanced up and seeing his eyes full of annoyance, accompanied by unmistakable lust that he so desperately tried to hide, made you laugh. How he could still uphold that look, you didn't know, but you were going to make that petty little glare of his falter.

You gripped the hem of your oversized t-shirt — his shirt — and slowly, very agonizingly slowly pulled it up towards your chest, exposing your near-bare lower body as you only wore lacy underwear. Dabi's eyes immediately fell to your hips, intently glaring at the way your cunt rested so snugly atop his cock. Expectantly, Dabi's eyes wandered to your chest, waiting for your breasts to grace his view, but you wouldn't grant him that satisfaction quite yet. Your expression held cockiness as you took the shirt's hem between your teeth, not fully pulling it over your chest. Instead, from where he laid, Dabi was offered a tantalizing view of the under curvature of your breasts.

As you slid your hands down your body, teasingly pulling at the band of your panties though not removing them, you found amusement in the way Dabi's expression had been breaking as the seconds ticked by. Though anger still remained, it was faltering; it was as if there was an intense battle between anger and burning desire, and the latter was winning little by little.

Slowly, you began rutting your hips against him, moaning as your clit slid against Dabi's erection. With the right amount of pressure, jolts of pleasure shot through your veins that fuelled your arousal, even through the layers of clothing. You could feel Dabi attempt to rise his hips further against you, but your quirk held him down.

If you focused enough, you could make out the way Dabi muttered curses underneath his makeshift gag. His chest began to heave shakily, and his eyes grew heavier from lust as they zeroed in on the rocking of your hips. He watched the way the dangling, blue heart piercing on your navel gently swayed in time with your movements — a gift he had gotten for you last month.

A particularly hard thrust had Dabi grunting. His cock pulsed underneath his jeans and boxers; it was uncomfortable, and he was dying for a shred of relief, but judging by the predatory shine in your irises, Dabi knew he wouldn't be graced with his wishes.

Your shirt was still wedged between your teeth, fabric wet with your saliva. Then, you stilled, abruptly stopping your ruts as you slipped your panties to the side, giving Dabi a slight peek at your slick cunt as you made a show of stroking your lips before spreading them. He wanted to touch you, you knew he did, but you wouldn't let him.

You'd let him watch, though.

Your fingers slid through your lips, and as you brushed against your entrance, you dipped two fingers inside of you, gathering arousal across your digits which you dragged up to your clit. Your moans, although somewhat muffled by your shirt, went straight to Dabi's dick as you slowly stroked your clit up and down. His breathing grew heavier as he remained bound and unable to touch you. The wet shine coating your fingers was beyond enticing to him, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

You pulled your fingers away from your pussy, letting your shirt fall back down. Now covered up, Dabi's trance seemingly broke, and he was narrowing his eyes at you once again.

You made the hand covering his mouth disappear, allowing him to speak, but before he could do so, you leaned down, gripping at his jaw to keep him in place as you brought your wet fingers to his mouth.

"Come on, babe," you prompted.

Dabi said nothing, only shifting his gaze between your face and fingers before reluctantly opening his mouth, allowing you to dip your fingers inside. He couldn't help the grunt as your taste hit his tongue; he savoured it. He closed his lips around your digits as you began thrusting them gently.

You licked your lips before parting them in a breathy exhalation as your cunt clenched at the sight beneath you. "Hollow your cheeks, hon."

When he didn't immediately comply, you roughly hit the back of his throat, making his body jump as he gagged rather loudly. His strong reaction made you coo condescendingly, and you were sure that, should he have been capable of producing tears, his eyes would be watering. Would it make you a shit person for saying that you wished you could see him cry in this context? Maybe, but you didn't really care.

"I won't ask again, Dabi," you said.

It was fucking humiliating, but Dabi eventually caved and did as you asked, hollowing his cheeks around your fingers, effectively creating more suction.

You groaned at the sight. "Fuck yeah. That's it."

You thrust your fingers a bit faster, occasionally hitting the back of his throat — though not as roughly as the first time — as you desperately wanted to hear him make those lovely gagging noises again.

"That's it, bitch," you said. "God, wouldn't you look pretty sucking on a cock?"

His eyes hardened at the degrading nickname, feeling beyond humiliated as a growl reverberated from deep within his chest.

Eventually, you pulled your fingers out of his mouth, which were heavily coated with his saliva. Dabi panted, attempting to catch his breath.

"Screw you. Fuck you," Dabi hissed at you.

"So vulgar..." you mused.

You gripped at his face, pressing onto his cheeks. "Open your mouth," you commanded.

He stubbornly gritted his teeth, attempting to turn his head away from you in defiance. You huffed, unappreciative of this bratty attitude of his. You tenderly cupped his cheek, tracing the seam of his marred skin with your fingertips in faux sympathy before giving him a nice smack. It wasn't hard enough to harm him, but enough to leave a red blotch on his healthy skin.

What you didn't expect was the damn-near pornographic moan that escaped him upon impact, pupils blown wide with want.

Freak.

"Open your fucking mouth," you repeated.

He did, and when you leaned over his mouth, lining up yours with his, Dabi had a feeling that he knew where you were going with this; he had done it to you before. Payback's a bitch, he supposed.

You let your saliva drop into his mouth, and you were satisfied to see you didn't even need to tell him to swallow. He did so immediately, making a show of gulping audibly.

"Good boy," you said, rubbing the mark on his cheek. "Say thank you."

"... Thank you," he muttered gruffly, cringing as he said it; the words sounded as though they had physically hurt him to say.

You nodded approvingly and appreciatively. Perhaps he was beginning to submit to you a bit more; you were making progress.

You sat back up, running your hands down his toned chest before your thumbs rolled his nipples, making sure to play with the pretty barbells pierced through the sensitive flesh. The attention made Dabi bite his lip harshly, wanting nothing more than to cut off any moan that threatened to escape him.

You took it as a challenge, leaning down again as you flattened your tongue against a bud while your thumb and index fingers continued toying with the other one. Your tongue swirled, flicking the barbell around, making Dabi's body shake, the stimulation to his chest feeling overwhelming with your precise and rapid movements.

"Ngh... fuck, babe," Dabi moaned. It was strained as he tried to contain the noise.

You hummed, pressing a multitude of sloppy kisses to his body as you trailed downwards. His abs tensed underneath your lips, watching in anticipation as you neared the one place he wanted you the most. You slid your nails down the attractive trail of white hair until you reached the bulge in his pants, flattening your palm against it. You felt him up, groping as you revelled at how hard he was. You sat straight as you undid his belt and jeans.

"Fucking, finally," Dabi sighed, already feeling less confined.

You hummed, pulling Dabi's pants and boxers down his legs and letting his heavy cock slap onto his lower abdomen, leaving behind a small puddle of pre-cum. The liquid seeped from his tip, running down his shaft and making that pretty frenum piercing of his glisten further. The sight had your mouth watering, watching how he throbbed with a desperate need to cum.

You finally pulled your shirt over your head, effectively distracting Dabi as he focused his attention on your bare skin. As you did so, you took the opportunity to command your quirk to fumble beneath the bed, subtly pulling out what would be the main event of your night. Tossing your shirt to the floor, you smirked as you watched the hands emerge, holding the items, which did not go unnoticed by Dabi.

"What the fuck are you looking a—"

Dabi's words died as his eyes grew wide upon seeing the bottle of lube and harness that bore a realistic, beige-coloured dildo — around six and a half inches, curved with some texture and a smooth tip. Dabi gulped, knowing damn well what you were implying, but still, he managed to glare up at you in an attempt to salvage his wavering dignity.

"What in the fuck is that?" Dabi hissed. It was rhetorical, but you still answered.

"That," you gave him a bored look as you pointed at the toy for emphasis, "would be a strap-on."

His glare hardened. "I fucking know what it is. When did you even get that?"

"Gag gift from a friend," you shrugged, running your hands along his thighs before snaking them towards his ass. "And I am going to use that little toy to fuck this," you said, squeezing the flesh teasingly.

"As if I'm letting you do that. You're out of your mind," Dabi said.

"What?" You sneered. "Is the big, bad villain scared of a bit of cock in his ass?"

Perhaps it was wrong of you to play with his ego as such, but again, you didn't really care. Besides, you weren't about to ignore the uncharacteristic hue of pink coating Dabi's cheeks.

"I'd rather fuck into that pretty little cunt of yours," Dabi said.

"I'm sure you would," you said rather casually as you set the strap-on next to him and grabbed the lube. "Anyway, that's for a little later. I've got other things I want to do to you first."

You gripped the base of Dabi's cock, pouring a generous stream of lube onto it. With both hands wrapped around his girth, you slowly glided up and down his shaft to thoroughly coat it and your hands in the slippery liquid.

You chuckled under your breath; if Dabi thought you would jerk his cock as you usually did, he was sorely mistaken.

Reaching for the tip of his cock, you brought a fingertip to the head, tracing your finger in slow circles around it as to tease him. The lube slicking his cock made the simple action that much more satisfying, and you could see more beads of his own pre-cum leaking down and merging with the lube. The mild stimulation was enough to make his dick jump from how aroused and needy Dabi was.

"So reactive, and I'm not even doing anything," you cooed.

You wrapped your hand at the base of his tip, making sure to pump at a tortuously slow pace, twisting your hand and letting your thumb rub against the frenulum of his cock — the area's sensitivity being amplified by the piercing — before teasing his slit.

Dabi threw his head back, teeth gritted as he finally received the attention he wanted. You could see his thighs tensing and shaking as you repeated the action, over and over, but never picking up the pace.

Your unoccupied hand reached for his balls, gently caressing them and offering the occasional squeeze, which earned you more streams of pre-cum, and a pretty moan from your villainous boyfriend.

Dabi's lips parted, sucking in a breath. It felt simultaneously amazing, but barely enough. Dabi was used to rough sex and harsh tugs at his cock to get him off, but you seemed adamant on depriving him of such, content with edging him towards his release.

And you fucking knew that, but you liked watching the conflict on his face. You loved seeing how engorged his cock and heavy his balls were from the need to cum. You adored watching his brows crease together as his eyes clenched shut.

"F-Fuck. Go faster," Dabi asked.

You stopped your movements altogether, seemingly contemplating his request, and Dabi had thought for a moment that he'd get what he wanted.

"Hm... no," you said, smirking in the slightest as a brief look of defeat crossed Dabi's features, though it was gone in an instant.

What kind of fucking monster had he allowed control of him?

Placing your palm atop the tip, you extended your fingers in a claw-like manner before gliding them up and down, from the head to the shaft, still keeping the same, lazy pace. You varied the pressure, offering a variety of sensations that had him arching his back.

Lowering both your hands to the base of his cock, you leaned down and swirled your tongue at the underside of his tip before sensually lapping at his slit, tasting the mixture of lubes as you maintained eye contact.

You took him into your mouth, fully taking him until he hit the back of your throat, but you didn't offer much more, immediately popping off of his dick and resuming your torturous handjob. The whine that escaped Dabi was so worth it.

"Maybe if you beg for it, I'll go faster," you said.

"You've gotta be kidding?" Dabi hissed.

You shook your head, keeping your concentration on his cock. You could practically feel the sheer humiliation radiating from Dabi's very soul.

".... Please," he visibly gritted his teeth as the word left his mouth. "Please go faster. I need you to go faster."

"Aw. Good boy," you said, genuinely smiling. "No."

"Excuse me? You fucking said—"

"Maybe. I said 'maybe'," you said, suddenly gripping his dick in a tight hold, immediately causing it to pulse in your hand. "You don't need me to go faster. I'll make you cum by my own means. Thank you very much."

You let go for a moment before slapping his cock hard enough for Dabi to fucking yelp. His cheeks were bright red, tongue darting to wet his lips.

Your hand gripped him once more. "You're just a masochistic little whore, aren't you?"

Touching the tip of your index finger to your thumb, you made an 'O' shape with your fingers, and starting at the tip of his cock, you stroked him downwards, and as you reached the base of his dick, your other hand repeated the process. Like an escalator type of motion; it had Dabi's cock twitching with every one of your movements.

Dabi's breaths grew heavy and rapid, and his thighs were so tense his body shook. His cock pulsed frequently as his head was thrown back.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he moaned, drawing out his words. "'M close. 'M so fuckin' close."

You hummed knowingly, yet you made no move to speed up as you normally would when he was close to orgasm. You were determined to draw this out as much as you could.

You began stroking his cock in a more standard motion, and to Dabi's horror and your sadistic amusement, you slowed your movements even more. He didn't know it was even possible.

"No! Ngh... fuck. Don't fuckin' slow down," he grunted. "The fuck's wrong with you?"

"Fuck yes! That's it," you moaned as he reached his peak.

It was unlike anything you had seen before: thick cum slowly beading at his tip before trickling down his shaft and gathering onto your hand and his pelvis. You've never seen him cum like this before, and you were mesmerized by every new drop that slowly dripped down his cock.

Dabi's reaction was beautiful. The grunts were loud, drawled out in a low tone that came from the deepest pits of his chest. His eyes had nearly rolled to the back of his skull as his tongue lolled out of his mouth for a brief second.

This was the longest orgasm he had ever gotten, and Dabi's head thrashed from side to side as he began feeling the overstimulation. Fuck — he was still leaking with cum; it wasn't over yet.

"H-Hah, fuck...!" He panted.

As his orgasm began to subside, your lips curled into a nearly-lopsided grin that Dabi missed due to his eyes being clenched shut.

"Take a deep breath, baby," you said.

"Why...?" He asked confusedly, still in a post-orgasm haze.

"Just do it."

He eyed you wearily but did as you asked. You watched as his chest rose, lungs being filled with oxygen. Before he could get a chance to exhale, you summoned your quirk, bringing a hand up to his face. You not only covered his mouth but also his nose.

Dabi's eyes widened at the sudden realization that he couldn't breathe, sending a brief shot of panic through his veins. He looked you in the eye, and as if you could sense his feelings, you softened.

"Remember what I said earlier?"

Dabi did; you were reminding him that he had the power to stop this at any given moment. He blinked, panic subsiding as he nodded. He became oddly relaxed for a man deprived of a necessary function for survival.

He trusted you.

You smiled at the green light and went straight back to work.

Unable to sharply inhale, his chest jumped as your hand resumed jerking off his cock — fast and rough. Your thumb stroked all of his most sensitive spots.

Dabi's eyes rolled to the back of his skull; grunts and moans remained caught in his throat. He was so fucking sensitive, and he wasn't sure if his head spun because of the overstimulation or from the lack of clean oxygen.

"What? Didn't you want me to go faster? I'm pretty sure that's what you were begging for earlier. Please, please go faster. I need you to go faster," you said, mocking him as you threw his previous words right back at him.

This was a foreign feeling to Dabi. Everything about this situation was foreign to him. But breath play? It was the last thing he expected out of you.

Dabi's Adam's Apple bobbed as the air trapped in his lungs tried to escape, cheeks bulging out as he grunted against the hand in an attempt to suck in fresh air. It was in vain; the hand was tightly clamped and suffocating him. His adrenaline seemed to be spiking, and it went straight to the swell of his cock.

He could hear his heartbeat thumping loudly in his own ears. His chest jumped again, convulsing hard enough that you got a brief view of his ribs.

"Hmph," he grunted again.

Dabi's lungs burned, and that warmth only fuelled his arousal. Fuck — it surprised him how into this he was. As his heart hammered against his chest in an erratic rhythm, his chest began to convulse more often, gagging noises sounding from his throat.

With the relentless way you fucked him with your hand and the lack of air, Dabi began growing dizzy, and he wondered if he was on the verge of passing out. He could tap out, but no way his pride would allow him to do such a thing.

Although his eyes threatened to fall shut, they shot wide open as he felt a second orgasm hit him like a train. It was a powerful one, painting his stomach white, with some nearly reaching his chest.

You took the hand off his face the moment his orgasm hit, enjoying the way he was torn between coughing, moaning and breathing heavily.

You gently stroked Dabi's thighs, shushing him as he came down from his high. Colour came flooding back to his face as he took in big gasps of air. He looked exhausted, and you sincerely contemplated ending the night there, thinking you may have gone too hard on him.

Dabi seemingly took notice of the soft, contemplative look in your eye. While he did appreciate your concern for his well-being, the night was still young, wasn't it?

"... 'S that all you got, princess?" He taunted with a tired smirk.

You laughed, getting back into character. "No, not at all."

You looked at your hand, still covered in Dabi's cum, before looking at him with a smirk. You lowered your hand near his mouth, looking at him expectantly.

"Clean it up, baby," you demanded.

Payback really was a bitch, huh? Dabi thought back to all the times he made you lick him clean, no matter if it was your or his mess. He opened his mouth, allowing you to shove a cum-coated finger inside. Dabi's glare was deadly as his own tangy taste hit his tongue.

"Don't look at me like that. It's not so bad, is it?" You taunted.

He much preferred your taste, but still, Dabi decided to put on a show for you as he began swirling his tongue around your finger, swallowing down his cum. As you removed your finger, his tongue darted towards your palm, sensually lapping up his substance while maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck, that's hot," you said, licking your lips as you pulled your hand away.

"You're a freak," Dabi said.

"Yet here you are, indulging me. Face it, you're loving this," you retorted.

For a brief second, you hopped off the bed in order to slide your panties down. You made sure to bend over as you did so, giving Dabi a nice view of your ass and pussy, and peeking over your shoulder, you could tell that Dabi was definitely appreciative of the sight.

"Now," you started, crawling back onto the bed. "I'm not that cruel, so I'll give you a moment to recover a bit before I make you cum again. So, in the meantime, it's my turn to get off."

You crawled over him before straddling his chest, and oh, Dabi now understood what you wanted from him. He smirked up at you, thinking that this was the perfect opportunity to regain a bit of control by making you helplessly cum all over his tongue.

"Yeah? I'll make you feel good. C'mere," he said in a low growl.

"Don't be mistaken, babe. I'm still holding the reins, here," you said.

You got into position, thighs on either side of his head as your pussy hovered above his mouth. You could see Dabi's fingers twitching, wishing that he could grip your flesh and grind you down onto his mouth on his own accord. Dabi's patience seemed to be wavering, especially when you had teased him with your arousal on your fingers earlier. He was dying to replace the taste of himself in his mouth with your essence; just your smell was enough to make his pupils dilate, hazing his brain and fuelling his sex drive.

"God, you look nothing short of pathetic, right now. You should see how desperate you look," you taunted.

Dabi huffed. "Yeah? 'Cause from where I'm lying, your cunt's looking pretty fuckin' wet."

You lowered yourself onto Dabi's waiting mouth without warning. "God. Shut the fuck up."

Dabi's grunts were muffled under your weight, but it didn't take him much coaxing before he began devouring your sweet pussy. His lips closed around your clit, sucking at the sensitive bud as his tongue flicked at it.

You threw your head back, lips parting in a moan as you looked down at your boyfriend, and the look of pure enjoyment in his eyes made your cunt clench, nearly cumming on the spot. Dabi was enthusiastic, sloppily lapping at your arousal with loud and lewd slurping noises as your lube and his saliva sloshed around. Drool dribbled down his chin, and paired with the raven strands of hair that clung to his forehead from all the sweat, his face already looked like a mess.

"Yess. F-Fuck yes, Dabi!" You said, earning you a particularly good flick of his tongue. "Good boy. Fuck, you're good at this. That's all you're good for, huh?"

He blinked, and to your surprise, his eyes didn't turn harsh, they remained curious, pleasured — vulnerable.

Your thighs tensed, squeezing Dabi's head; the man beneath you looked in fucking heaven. You added more pressure to his mouth, essentially suffocating him with your soaked cunt; Dabi never skipped a beat, only eating you out much more vigorously like a starved man.

"Shit, that's it," you moaned, running your hand through his hair before yanking it roughly, earning a muffled moan from him. "I've always wanted to do this."

You lifted yourself off his mouth, allowing him to catch his breath. Although Dabi was panting, he lifted his head off the mattress, attempting to re-attach his lips to your pussy, eager to resume.

"Stick your tongue out, baby. Lemme ride your face," you said.

"Hm.. a'right," he said, doing as you asked.

You lowered yourself back onto his mouth, and you wasted no time in thrusting your hips, gliding your clit against the wet muscle. Your pace was relentless, you were practically using him for your pleasure, but Dabi didn't seem to mind, the pleasured grunts he let out sent delightful vibrations to your cunt.

You pulled at his hair again. "Fuck, you love getting smothered by my pussy, huh?" He answered with a hum. "I think I — fuck — like you better like this. Putting your dirty, rude fucking mouth to good use for once. All bound up for me to use however I want."

Dabi was so focused on our pussy that he hadn't noticed that you had summoned another ghost hand. At least, not until he felt a cool liquid dripping into his ass. Dabi's eyes widened in surprise, looking up at you as if demanding an explanation.

You slowed your movement, looking back at your quirk as if you had been none the wiser to what was happening. "Oh, that? Don't worry, baby. I need to stretch you out a bit."

The hands that had been holding his legs down throughout the whole night spread his legs further, giving you better access to his hole. The free hand inched closer, soothing the ring of muscles with soft, teasing circles.

"You're tense. I'm gonna need you to relax, 'kay?" You said before lifting yourself off his tongue once more, giving him the opportunity to speak. "Is this something you're willing to try? Just say the word, and the idea is gone."

Dabi felt his resolve crumbling. If this were anyone else, he would've incinerated them on the spot for even proposing the idea. But with you? He could trust you with this kind of vulnerability, something that was difficult — so difficult — for him to show. So, he nodded.

"Yeah, okay. Do what you want. I put you in charge, after all," he said.

You laughed. "If I remember correctly, you didn't put me in charge, I just took it."

"Mhm. Whatever you say."

"Okay, baby. Relax, I'm going to put it in, okay?" You said.

Dabi nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as if to brace himself for the foreign breach that was to come, and when it came, his eyes shot wide open, breathing coming to a sharp halt as his teeth gritted together in a hiss as a chilly finger began pushing inside his ass.

The finger had more girth than the average human size, and so you stilled, allowing him to adjust to the feeling before resuming. You reminded him to breathe, which he obeyed. When he seemed less tense, you pushed deeper until you were knuckle-deep. With the size of the finger, you wouldn't need to insert a second one. It was good training, however, as the dildo size you planned to use on him was rather large for a first-time ride.

"How does it feel," you asked, unable to hide your arousal when you heard Dabi — of all fucking people — whimper.

"Weird... but s'not bad," Dabi grunted, and you could tell that he was holding back his true feelings due to pride.

"Good. You're doing really good," you praised — a stark contrast to your previous behaviour.

But it wouldn't last very long.

Dabi's mind seemed in a haze — in a whole other dimension — so you reached down to lightly smack his cheek to gain his attention.

"You know, you still haven't made me cum," you said, gesturing to your pussy that still remained above his mouth. "You better finish what you started, and I expect you to make me cum before you do. Don't be selfish."

Dabi nodded, eyes glinting with mischief as he accepted your little challenge, and like the obedient little toy you had reduced him to, he stuck his tongue out, waiting for you to smother him.

You moaned loudly; if you thought his enthusiasm was mind-blowing before, it had reached a whole other level. The tip of his tongue dipped inside your entrance before moving to rapidly flick your clit in a consistent up and down motion. The pressure he applied was perfect, and his pace was that of a man on a fucking mission, dead set on the end goal.

Your ghost hand began to thrust, causing Dabi's breath to hitch as his tongue faltered for a moment. In response, you rutted your hips against him — it was a warning.

You slid your finger in and out, setting a slow and steady pace to warm him up. You felt around for a special little spot, one that had possibly never been stimulated up until now, and by God, you were excited to be the first one to hit that jackpot.

As you prodded around, Dabi's whole body suddenly tensed up, and he couldn't stop himself when his mouth unlatched from your pussy as he threw his head back, wheezing as if the wind had just been knocked out of him.

You laughed. "There it is."

You adjusted the hand, making sure that you slid the finger at the perfect angle, continuously sliding against Dabi's sweet spot. You moved at a slow pace, making him anticipate the moment you would hit the area again, and when you did, fuck, the slow pace you set made him feel the intense stimulation on every little nerve ending.

Dabi's tongue lolled out of his mouth, nearly going cross-eyed at the sensation. It was a nice sight, for sure, but you were a little unhappy with the lack of stimulation you were receiving. Your clit felt swollen, pulsing from need.

"Hm... I'm happy that you're enjoying yourself, but don't forget what you're supposed to be doing," you said.

"F-Fuck... ahhh. 'M sorry — shit, feels so fuckin' good — c'mere," he moaned, regaining his focus.

You were relentless as you rode his tongue, not giving him the opportunity to catch his breath. You figured you'd do all the work if your little pillow princess was unable to focus because of one measly finger up his ass.

Dabi's eyes rolled back, grunts and whimpers muffled by your cunt. His senses were overwhelmed, and he was living for it. Your smell, the feel of your skin, your touch, your sounds, the sight of you — everything felt overstimulating.

"F-Fuck! I'm close, Dabi," you moaned, riding him so roughly that your clit occasionally hit his nose. "Are you gonna make me cum, baby?"

Dabi had a hard time answering, even if it was just a hum, especially when the finger began thrusting in time with your grinding. Fuck, he was close, about to hit his third orgasm of the night. He tried his best to keep the cum in his balls, but it proved difficult when you were massaging his prostate like that.

You knew Dabi well enough to know the signs, and you huffed, not pleased that he was failing his task, and so, just as he was about to cum, the finger stilled. You summoned a sixth hand, tightly wrapping it around Dabi's cock while pressing down at the back of his tip, forcing the urge to subside. Dabi whined at the ruined orgasm, eyes twitching as he gave you the most pitiful look you had ever seen on him.

"Uh-uh," you chided. "Remember what I said? I get to cum first."

He nodded, forcing his concentration back onto your cunt, determined to make you squirt all over his goddamn face. Your moans were music to his ears, and he found himself grunting with every little noise falling from your lips. Your head was thrown back, hands reaching for the bedsheets as you gripped them in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Your thighs clenched around his head as they shook, and Dabi could feel your clit pulse on his tongue.

"Dabi! Fuck! C-Cumming. I'm gonna cum," you panted.

You went silent for a brief moment as your body went rigid, and when the tension that had been building in your abdomen snapped, you let out a loud, elongated moan. Your chest heaved with rapid breaths as sharp pleasure had your pussy pulsing from a powerful orgasm. Dabi nearly growled as he savoured your taste when your cum hit his lips. It was a mess as the clear liquid he couldn't catch in his mouth trickled down his chin.

He slowed down his movements, helping you ride out your high until he completely stilled. You lifted yourself off his mouth, backing away so that you were straddling his chest as you caught your breath and recovered from your post-orgasm haze. After all, you still had one last thing to do.

"Fuck," Dabi licked his lips, swallowing down more of your cum, groaning in satisfaction. "Did I do good?"

"Hm... yeah, you did. But now," you said, grabbing the strap-on before stepping off the bed. "We get to the real fun."

You made the hands that had been preoccupied with his cock and ass disappear, making Dabi suddenly feel so empty. He watched as you slipped the harness on, the straps weren't complicated and awkward to figure out, so you didn't fiddle with them all that much.

You crawled back onto the bed, placing yourself between Dabi's spread legs before grabbing the bottle of lube and slathering some on the silicone cock. For safety, you applied some more to Dabi's asshole. You didn't want the stretch to hurt him, after all.

"You look pretty ecstatic with this. You have some kind of weird fetish for me with things in my ass, huh?" Dabi teased.

"Maybe I do. Who knows? Maybe next time, I'll make you wear a cute, fuzzy tail butt plug," you said, lining yourself up.

"As if I'd let you do that."

"That's what you've been saying all night, yet here we are."

You held onto his thighs, locking eyes with him. No words needed to be exchanged for Dabi to know that you were asking if he was ready, to which he nodded. Dabi exhaled, forcing his body to relax as he felt the tip of the cock prodding at his hole.

The toy began breaching, making Dabi's breath hitch. Shit — he was suddenly happy that you had prepped him with your quirk, that thing was much bigger than he had anticipated. Dabi's breath caught in his throat as you slowly pushed in deeper before stilling as means to let him adjust. His cock betrayed him, throbbing and seemingly getting even harder at the sensation of being filled up.

"Fuck. Oh my Go—" Dabi's words died down as his head fell back into the sheets, mouth parting in a silent moan.

You leaned down, pressing a surprisingly loving kiss to his lips, serving as a distraction from the stretch. Dabi lazily reciprocated, being as delirious as he was. You then brought your lips to his ear.

"I'm halfway in, okay? Just relax, it's gonna feel so good soon," you shushed with a reassuring tone that had Dabi nearly melting.

The shift between your harsh treatment of his body and your soft, caring side gave him whiplash at times, but he had to say: he loved it. He loved how you knew which side to use at which moment. Dabi would have never guessed that you would make such a good top, but you just kept surprising him, didn't you?

Gently, you pushed the dildo further in, pulling a sharp gasp from Dabi as you bottomed out, your hips firmly pressed against his. Again, you let him adjust to the depth the toy was reaching, to the stretch it was providing. Your thumbs traced soothing circles into the healthy skin of his thighs.

He had better enjoy this tenderness while it lasted, because you were going to fucking destroy him.

You gave an experimental thrust, only pulling out halfway before pushing back in; it made Dabi's body jolt. Grinning at his pleasured reaction, you fully pulled out the toy before giving one hard, deep thrust.

"A-Ah!"

You grinned. "Atta boy. That's it."

You rocked your hips, rolling them in an attempt to find the perfect angle to hit his G-spot. The lube made the glide so slick and easy, and you found that Dabi's tight little hole had adjusted rather quickly, allowing you to push your hips against him rather roughly.

"Holy shit," you moaned, the sight underneath you bringing pleasure in of itself.

Dabi already looked fucked out, dignity thrown out the window as curses mingled with moans and pleas for more, more. His eyes blinked rapidly as if trying to clear his vision from whatever haze took over him, and drool pooled at the corner of his lips from the way the tip of his tongue poked out.

Fuck it, you thought as you fully deactivated your quirk, allowing Dabi not only free rein of his arms and legs but also his flames. But honestly? You had him right where you wanted, and you knew that he was too concentrated on the pleasure to even think about regaining control.

Your skin slapped against his, the rough thrusts making the bed creak. One of Dabi's arms shot to his face, covering his eyes and a portion of his sweat-covered forehead as the pleasure hit him hard, while his other hand gripped at the sheets beneath him. His legs seemed to have a mind of their own, spreading as much as they could to give you better angles to pleasure him.

His cock bobbed in time with your thrusts, and you watched as pre-cum seeped from the red, swollen tip. You knew he wouldn't last very long in this state, and you were fine with that; you just wanted to give him mind-boggling pleasure and make him forget his own fucking name.

"OH SHIT! Fuck!" Dabi screamed, back arching as you hit that spot.

"Right there, huh?" You grinned. "Get ready, baby."

You pushed one of his legs up towards his chest, making him gasp loudly as you found the perfect angle to fuck him stupid. Hearing him whine and moan, chanting your name like a prayer, gave your ego such a fucking boost, and you swore you might have cum from those sounds alone.

You licked your lips as you took notice of the previous spurts of cum painting Dabi's torso. He looked so fucking hot like that, and you couldn't help yourself when you activated your quirk one last time. A ghost hand brought your phone, opening up the camera app as you snapped a picture. The sound of the shutter caught Dabi's attention.

You groaned at the picture — a work of art, is what it was.

"Fuck, Dabi. Look at yourself," you said, bringing your phone to his face.

He could barely recognize himself: matted hair, all wet and clinging to his forehead. His body was covered in sweat and cum, while his lips shined with his drool and your own release. He had the most delirious, fucked-out look he had ever seen in his life, with eyes nearly crossing and rosy cheeks. From the angle, he could see the silicone cock inside his ass, and his rock-hard cock stood flushed and engorged as it seeped with his lube.

You put your phone away, deactivating your quirk. "God, what would they think if they saw you like this? Think anybody would take you seriously ever again? I'm sure I could make a fortune, whoring you out for the world to see. What do you think? One of the most dangerous villains getting fucked by thick cock."

He whined at your words. Even though he knew you wouldn't ever truly do that to him, hearing that little fantasy of yours had his cock pulsing. Dabi couldn't help himself when he reached for his dick, stroking it in time with your rough thrusts, only edging him closer to his release.

"That's it, babe. Stroke that fat cock," you encouraged, pace never faltering.

"G-Gonna... 'm gonna — fuck," he couldn't even form a coherent sentence, the pleasure was just getting too much.

"I know, Dabi," you said. "Do it. Cum for me."

He did, and the overstimulation hit him immediately. He could barely keep pumping his dick through his orgasm without squirming, especially when you slammed against his G-spot, thoroughly milking him dry. The amount of cum that poured out of him was impressive, possibly due to his previously interrupted orgasm. He covered his face with both his hands, grunting loudly yet lowly in a way that resembled a growl.

Your thrusts subsided, and you carefully slid the toy out. You leaned down to press soothing butterfly kisses to his thighs before moving up to his face. Pulling his arms away from his face, you peppered his face and lips with the same, loving kisses. You shushed him, muttering praises as he came down from his high.

"Are you okay?" You asked with genuine concern.

"Yeah. 'M good," he croaked in a tired voice.

"Stay here, okay?" You said, hopping off the bed and ridding yourself of the strap-on before heading out of the room.

Dabi nodded, staring up at the ceiling — not that he could move much at the moment; he felt so goddamn sore and tired. You did a number on him.

You came back after a moment, a sheepish smile on your face as you brought towels and a glass of water. You helped Dabi sit up, bringing the glass to his lips as he tilted his head back. He gulped down the water in one go, throat immediately feeling refreshed.

"What are you doing?" He asked, watching as you unfolded one of the damp cloths.

"Taking care of you."

You brought the cloth to his face, and being mindful of his staples, you cleaned his face of all the sweat, drool and dried cum. Dabi sighed at the feeling, the coolness feeling great on his overheated body. You went lower, cleaning the release off his chest and pelvis. You muttered an apology when Dabi hissed in sensitivity when you gently brought a fresh cloth to his softened dick.

You tossed the towels into a hamper before bringing your boyfriend into a hug, which he reciprocated tightly. "I hope I wasn't too rough on you.”

He chuckled, patting your back reassuringly. "I didn't know you had it in you. I can't remember what I did to piss you off to the point of ragdolling me around in bed, but shit, I must have deserved it."

You laughed, pulling away so that you could kiss his forehead. "So, can I say that I fucked you stupid?"

"Hm... I dunno, but maybe I should piss you off more often if that's the outcome."

"Don't test me," you said, shaking your head. "Alright, lemme go run a bath."

You attempted to get up, but Dabi was quick to pull you back into bed, laying you down on his chest. The warmth of his skin, paired with the calm and steady thump of his heart, nearly immediately lulled you to sleep.

"Nap first. Hygiene later."

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monalogs · 12 days

Note

U SHOULD DO NYEN NEXT!! ^^

Catfight | Nyen

➷ Paring - Nyen x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - noncon, violence/aggression, injuries, degradation, dacryphilla, face slapping, scratching, face-fucking, breathplay. surprisingly no knives :0

a/n - was supposed to come out earlier today but tumblr gets picky about my internet connection and doesn’t work sometimes </3 this fic is just a leedle more longer so i hope you enjoy !! i’ve been appreciating all the support, as always requests are open :) another nyen fic was requested so expect that soon!!

Cats are territorial creatures. It takes a while for a cat to get used to a new pet in the house. Give it time. You should expect some aggression. Well, that's what Luther said anyways after Nyen scoffed and completely ignored you when you were introduced as Luther’s new catwoman pet.

It's not like you did anything to him, actually trying to be nice in the beginning. It didn't matter how many times you wished him good morning or small talked. He’d still shove past you, saying the same thing,

“Don’t care. Die.”

Admittedly, It hurt your feelings at first. Nobody else had a problem with you. Luther’s other catman, Nyon, actually got along with you quite well. He already shared his “territory” so were you really intruding that much?

Or maybe it was because Luther spoiled you at first, buying you a cute dark blue skirt and dark top that dawned the word “cookie” (He chose it—of course.) along with your cat-hat that sported a floppy cat ear. However, it's been weeks since that. You’re sure whatever “new pet” jealousy he had would've died down by now.

It was concluded that after all that trying, at the end of the day, you aren't an ass-kisser. He wanted to be an asshole with you? You can be one back.

So you stopped being polite. You acted like he wasn't there, leaving the room instead of sticking it out whenever you two just happened to be alone. Simply rolling your eyes whenever he throws a stupid comment towards you.

Sure, it was more tame than him literally shoving you and telling you he wanted you dead but it was clear that this got him livid. He wasn't worth trying to get along with, he wasn't worth your effort.

Finally, after several more weeks of pettiness and frustration, he confronted you once you actually talked back to him after a snarky remark on a bad day. Cornering you in a lonesome room in the confusing house.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He stood tall in front of you, eyeing with a strong glare.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes like you always did, exasperated at his nerve to even ask you that, “My problem? You think I have a problem?” A chort leaves your lips, “If there's anyone with a problem—it's you.” With crossed arms, you return the glare. “Leave me alone now, asshat.” Heels turn to leave, not wanting to hear any more from him. However, you don't get a chance to even step a foot before Nyen harshly SLAMS you into the nearby wall.

“What—what the fuck!” The breath is taken out of your lungs, leaving you to slide down onto the floor in order to collect yourself in that split second. Nyen looms, not bothering to get on your level to speak to you, “Watch who you're talking to, I'll gut you right now.”

You're shaking, pain from the impact still vibrating throughout your body. Still, you futility keep yourself together and sharpen your gaze back at him. “Even if you wanted to—you can't. Luther likes me, and you're too much of an boot-licker to do anything—”

A swift kick meets your ribs causing you to hunch over in more pain. Nyen then crouches, grabbing a tuft of hair to force you to look at him. “Don't forget who’s higher on the hierarchy poster. You aren't worth anything besides sauntering around in a small skirt and cleaning after us like a maid.”

He lets go harshly, shoving your head in the process before getting up. Still feeling the burn in your chest, you begin to fester with anger. He can't just treat you like this. Just as he begins to walk away, you muster strength to get up and tackle him.

“Huh—”

You straddle him while he tries to kick you off but you stay firmly put. Sharp nails scratch at his face, causing shallow lines of blood to pool. You're cursing at him furiously, hitting and scratching continuously. Nyen hisses— “You bitch!”

Just as fast as you had him down, he quickly shoves you off of him and topples you. You both trash against each other, now he's able to return some painful hits. After basically rolling around on the floor, he's able to overpower you once he BONKS your head against the carpeted ground.

Dizzy and hurt, you feel him keep you down with his body weight, crushing your legs and causing you to hiss in over growing ache. “Get off of me!” With hoarse breath, you attempt to flail around and scream but Nyen doesn't relent.

Instead, he laughs maniacally as he shifts more of his weight and smacks your face. “Oh, no. I think you need to be reminded where the fuck you stand here.” He huffs and lifts the hem of your skirt, showing your underwear. Followed by flipping your shirt up above your bra, exposing yourself to him.

You see a malicious grin spread across his rough, shaven face. You should smack yourself for not realizing the hardness you felt while you both tackled was something else. Well, if he wasn't smacking you around already.

His black, dagger-like nails trail your exposed skin, not scared to dig down and cause you to yelp—only to swipe across your thighs and do it again. Nyen then moves his hand beneath your underwear, rubbing his fingers against your heat. You push back a gasp, gritting your teeth and desperately trying to shut your pinned legs.

He doesn't wait to stick a pair of fingers deep into you, staring intensely at your stressed reaction. “C’mon, don't got anything to say now?” You clench, you don't want to give him that satisfaction of your reactions. You seethe, because it feels good.

You try to keep it together when his fingers move in and out of you, but you can't ignore it when his thumb makes its way to rub your clit. He's harsh and fast, nails scratch your insides ever so slightly, causing you to clamp up around him. You can't let go of the feeling of his thumb circling your sensitive clit, a moan escapes you.

“You like that, slut?” Nyen speeds up and relishes on your hushed whines, cursing at him to just stop. He sees how your back arches slightly, and how your pretty tits are starting to spill from your bra. It's a nice sight, he likes how you were at each other's throat a few minutes ago, now he has you squirming around from a little fingering. You really are a slut.

Before you can reach your peak, Nyen pulls away. You breathe heavily, a pounding heartbeat reverberates in your ears. Once again, he towers over your hurt figure with furrowed brows before he snaps at you, “Get on your knees.”

He stares at you intensely, and though his dark pupils stay stoic on your hunched over body, you clearly spot the pure anger in his eyes towards you. It says so much. You knew Nyen didn't like you, but you really are starting to think he hates you. This is beyond jealousy or distain. He just wants you to suffer because you are below him.

It seems he's sick of waiting for you to act, he scoffs before wrapping your hair around his strong hand, yanking you into a kneeling position. “You really don't listen.” SMACK.

Overwhelmed tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the impact. Nyen still grips your hair, forcing your face against the dark denim of his pants. His clothed hardness pokes at your cheek, tears staining his crotch. “Take it out, whore. Don't make me do it.” You scowl, still feeling his claws digging into your scalp.

With shaky hands, you pull down his fly and fish out his hard length. Veins trail along the side of it and his base flushes red against your hands, big and intimidating. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Put that dirty mouth of yours to use.” Nyen scorns, noticing your flaring eyes, hesitating. “Bite me. I dare you, slut.” With a furrowed face, you take his pulsing dick and gently place it in your mouth. Your tongue awkwardly sliding over his engorged tip.

Nyen narrows his eyes at you, they're kitten licks, too shaky and soft to feel substantial. He observes the concept spread on your face, so uncomfortable and pathetic. It didn't matter that you were giving a sad excuse of a blowjob. He could get off on the fat tears that pooled down your face and the pure messiness of you.

Your hair and clothes are so disheveled it looks as if you just walked through the forest. You're bruising ever so slightly red on the side of your forehead, hits adorn your body, and he could chuckle at the matching scratches that sweep across both your faces. He thinks about how you would've looked even better if he had his knife with him.

Twisting the hair he’s holding behind your head, he waits once you take his tip fully in your mouth and without warning—he snaps his hips up and pushes his cock down your throat.

You gag harshly as Nyen lets out a long groan, forcing your mouth to fully take him. Still, he never stops looking at you through half lidded eyes, grinning at how you struggle to even breathe now.

He doesn't waste time to start thrusting roughly into your mouth, clutching onto the back of your head to fully abuse your throat. You try to gasp in between thrusts but it's impossible. He’s blocking your airways. You continue to let out strangled noises, digging your nails into the denim of his jeans to let him know to give you some type of mercy.

Nyen doesn't listen—he continues to feverishly fuck your face for a grueling however long. Long enough for you to start to feel dizzy and see dots collect in your vision. For a second, you truly panic that he’s going to suffocate you with his dick.

He only pulls back when he visibly sees you start to turn blue and feel the sharpness on his thigh weaken. You gasp for air like a fish out of water, aching lungs finally filling with much needed oxygen before Nyen greedily forces his way into you again.

He’s enjoying how your continued strained whines and gags vibrate around his dick. He won't admit it… but shit, you feel so addictive. Nyen wants to just melt into you.

He genuinely has to keep reminding himself to not let you die by pulling out of your mouth every so often. Taking some joy in how you scramble for air before he inevitably slams back into your poor throat.

Large hands grip at the sides of your head now, hip movements become more and more sloppy. He’s grunting louder, the sensation of twitching in your mouth becoming more evident of how close he is now. “Fuck—this really is all you’re good for, huh? You're going to swallow all my cum like the useless slut you are.”

With a final snap from his hips, Nyen forces your head all the way down, nuzzling your nose into his crotch before he spurts salty cum deep down your esophagus. He doesn't give you any leniency, purposely making you choke as he empties into you. “All of it, whore.”

Finally, once he's satisfied that you’ve tasted enough of him, he harshly pulls out his pulsating cock. Air feels like a commodity now, you almost feel as if he's going to shove his dick inside your mouth again in a few seconds. He doesn't though, instead he removes his hand from your hair and grabs his flushed length.

Your vision is blurry and your knees are weak, barely able to focus. Still, you manage to see the smug look spread across his face. Suddenly, you feel a warm, quick smack on the side of your cheek. You blink and realize he’s dick slapping you. What fucking nerve.

Still aching, you don't bother to fight back or say something like you should. Everything truly hurts. Instead, you allow yourself to loll back and cover yourself as Nyen zips himself back into his pants.

It's quiet. Nyen stands by and over you as you sit on the carpet, not sure what to do. Tears would be flowing if you had any left to cry. Both your eyes finally meet, and you can properly see the red scratches you left on his face. Nyen finally spits, “Get up. You look pathetic.” He then opens the door and leaves you to wallow.

It's like another slap to your face.

#nyen catman #nyen ranfren #nyen x reader #x reader #tw noncon #tw pain #tw breath play #dark content #dark blog

21 notes · View notes

hanayumi · 1 year

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝

— bonten! sano manjirou x fem!reader x sanzu haruchiyo

part 1.5 of brittle to the bone || prev.

a prelude to your time with the man masquerading himself as your ‘guardian’.

wc. 3.5k

tags breathplay, toxic/unhealthy relationship dynamics, implied drug abuse, yandere undertones, haruchiyo pov, sfw

notes i really have no words except take this *drops the fic in your hands*

snapshot ;

It’s alien. Intangible. And as if bringing to light something that’d been kicking at the edges of his consciousness for a long long time, hinting at something his thought process was but a little slower to grasp, all at once Haurchiyo's brain flashes with the lingering memories of that same intimacy.

That tacit understanding. That silent obedience. Is it love that hides behind the way Mikey touches you when he thinks no one is looking — gently, like a lover, so different from the way he always does? At times commanding, as if bending you to his will (though he doubts you had any in the first place) — is it the way that, despite everything, you still come at his beck and call, ready to slide your arms around him at a moment’s notice even as your legs are trembling like they’re about to give out?

As far as Haruchiyo is concerned, Mikey has always been like this. Always stoic, always tip-toeing between the inconspicuous realm of boredom and apathy, and so little did he reveal his innermost thoughts. No one could ever dissect what was going on in his boss’ mind. He was unreadable to the point where it became his own trademark, with hands capable of far more violence than any of his subordinates combined. Perhaps in that invincible, impenetrable nature does Haruchiyo find solidarity: there is no one like Sano Manjirou.

But if there’s one thing that Haruchiyo has in common with his boss, it’s that it’s a losing battle to keep them listening during meetings. Frankly, if he were to be speaking facts, no one aside from Takeomi and Kokonoi bothers to pay attention. Who could fucking care less about those bottom-feeders plundering chunks outta their cargo supplies? This building, its occupants— the arteries. Drugs, inhalants— the blood. He could, theoretically (speaking in Kokonoi’s breath), put everything into its place, restore this apparently ‘delicate balance’, within a moment's notice with that gleaming steak knife of his. If only, if only they’d let him.

Money, women, drugs. That’s nice and all, but that’s not really why he joined Bonten. (Well, he might choke on that last one.) No, never, Haruchiyo isn’t infamously known as the ‘Mad Dog’ for no reason. He is a cruel, mad dog. He revels in the thrilling chase and the dizzying catch — the first strike, the feel of warm, real blood soaking his talons, and the sick wicked delight of toying with the limits of human endurance — and, guess what? He got none of that within the frigid meeting room.

What did he get instead?

Instead he got a mystery. One that eats away at him like maggots from the inside with every painstaking day. And the more he sees you, the more he is forced to remember this fact, forced to regurgitate it like a cow chewing on blades of rubber grass. Day after day after day after fucking day.

Because you were always there, your presence accompanying them more times than he can count (to serve entertainment on the side, he thought at first, except you did more than that. You distracted him. You kept his eyes on you. And you somehow chewed your doll-faced, mouselike way into his boss’ heart).

And the thought persists long after each and every meeting, sinks paranoia under his skin like pinpricks and suckerpunches to his gut; like the arctic chill circulating in the meeting room, penetrating through layers of clothing made for this sole purpose (because, he supposes, Mikey is so thick-skinned that even air-conditioning toils to have an effect on him).

He bided his time. He waited, patiently, just as his King filed out order after order — kill them, torture them for information, find out more about them, kill them…

But the order never came. It was never ‘kill her’.

(But what’s worse? That his King is taking an awfully long time to get rid of his plaything, or that said plaything can’t help but intrude his thoughts at every given moment? Desecrate his plane of thought like you had more power than everyone gave you credit for? Feeding into his horrible addiction and piercing his brain with images of herself — whimpering and snivelling, legs so shaky and fragile like a newborn foal, damp bottom lashes glued to her skin, and if he squinted he could see fresh tears brimming at the edges, eyes filming over like liquid glass — stop.)

He sighs and tosses a tiny, familiar oval-shaped object down his throat — one to last him the rest of the hour and half the bottle for the rest of the day — swallowing it dry with an exaggerated gulp. One after another, it’s almost like candy at this point. If he tries hard enough he’ll remember a time when he found salvation beyond this drug-induced haze, but at some point he stopped caring. Stopped reading the labels and recommended dosages. (Why bother? Why bother looking through the haze when he has a job to do? Especially, especially one that involves getting the answers he so desires.)

Fingernails tap a broken rhythm on the glass of a clattering pill bottle, slow and steady, like the eerie thrum of a premonition. A finely-pressed suit, dyed a deep violet with gold embroidery branching out in elegant water lilies — worn with pride by a gentleman who has known nothing but to stain it with savage killing. His elbow is propped up against the wall, and his emerald-toned gaze teeters back and forth between the other two occupants of the room. Tiredly, boorishly.

He’s tired of waiting.

Actually, more than that — he’s tired of so many things grating on his thinly-stretched patience. (He is not a man known for his patience.)

Today’s the big day. Mikey hasn’t said a word since Haruchiyo was called up to the penthouse. The top level has always been sacred — reserved for him and only him — but it’s no place that Haruchiyo hasn’t been in once or twice. Sometimes he simply sought orders in person or felt like snooping around. There was never anything of interest, though (well, nothing except you).

He fastens his eyes on you warily, keeping a reasonable distance and not making a move in fear of upsetting Mikey. Staring too much or showing remotely any interest in you always seemed a surefire way to set him off. It’s hard to believe that Takeomi was able to convince him to let you stay behind. Especially with himself, of all people. (Not that Haruchiyo thinks he’ll do a bad job. Far from that, actually; if Mikey told him to sit and stay he would do just that even if hail the size of a planet came hurtling down to earth.) He’s surprised, but he knows it isn’t like Mikey not to think ahead… perhaps, his boss has finally realised that you don’t need to be babysat like a fucking toddler.

But even toddlers have a mind of their own. Haruchiyo frowns when he looks at you, all jittery and silent, albeit for a different reason than him. You're waiting obediently by the door as Mikey throws his coat over his shoulders. He grabs his gun, his cigarettes (since when did he smoke?), his cellphone… Everything he does is agonisingly slow — every action deliberately calculated as if his brain was rewired to take the slowest route possible to the sleek black car waiting in the lobby. There must be something compelling his boss to stay, because no sooner when his hand touches the doorknob does he hesitate as it slips back down to his side.

Not again.

Haruchiyo’s chest heaves, puffs out by an inch as he gets ready to breathe a huge, exaggerated sigh — he sighs a lot these days — only for it to catch in his throat.

Mikey is hugging you.

Something does not click in him, does not register. Like a severed connection, Haruchiyo is made acutely aware that an anomaly has caused his systems to lock up and sizzle into haywire at the scene before him. Something is wrong here.

An indescribable sentimentality comes through in the way Mikey’s arms lock around you like a cage. Engulfing, territorial, as if he were trying to swallow you whole; and if Haruchiyo could see his face right now he is sure his boss would be drilling holes into his skull just for staring. Stop looking. He’s gonna get mad. But the amazement — as amusing as it is that Haruchiyo can even feel such an emotion — overpowers his obedience, when not a second later your arms come to creep around Mikey’s waist. Melding yourself into his chest, almost instinctively, as if it’d shield you from the harshness of what he’s become. Haruchiyo is almost convinced, from the compliance bleeding through your actions, that you’ve been doing this for a long time.

And, try as he might, he can’t tear his eyes away from the quiver in your bottom lip as you meet his single bewildered gaze from across the room, almost looking as if you wanted him to save you — looking like a tender lamb collected whole within the jaws of a lion. A fraction of a second, a near imperceptible intensity of emotion, and then you’re sliding your face into the side of Mikey’s neck, the subdued tremor of your shoulders the only evidence of your breathing. Everything looks of the frozen stillness of death; a snapshot taken in a graveyard, the headstone masquerading as Greek statues of lovers holding each other in death — in eternity, in life, being unable to part.

Mikey silently digs his palm into the back of your head, the small action nudging you deeper into his embrace as if the proximity wasn’t enough, never enough, and Haruchiyo feels his mouth going desert dry. Nothing makes sense. You, your presence, Mikey’s attachment to you — nothing fits together, it’s all a fucking mystery, just like the mismatched pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. (And now, it is as if he’s the toddler sitting hunched over children’s toys manufactured wrong, the miniature pieces fundamentally made to jut and protest against each other.)

He can’t understand.

It’s alien. Intangible. And as if bringing to light something that’d been kicking at the edges of his consciousness for a long long time, hinting at something his thought process was but a little slower to grasp, all at once Haruchiyo's brain flashes with lingering memories of that same intimacy.

Haruchiyo is stiff as a frozen lake, but his gut stirs with unease (why?), and for a second he wonders when exactly he became so observant to anyone besides himself and his King.

His eyes settle arbitrarily on exposed skin; it’s your neck. The same neck that Mikey now has his hand wrapped around, with the same palm that was but a split second ago caressing the back of your head. His bony fingers press deep into the skin, not hard enough to form bruises, but hard enough to aggravate the existing ones and pry a mousy noise out of you.

(How does it taste, to have the king of Bonten cradling you in his arms as if the world could collapse on you at any second? And in the next minute, have his hand around your neck, the pressure just short of suffocating you, tightening ever so slowly?)

Not that good, he supposes, because from the sounds you’re making (the choked whimpers) he’s sure that you’re terrified.

“Be good.”

Mikey’s voice drags through the silence like a thin dagger. Unsympathetic. Cold.

Haruchiyo’s eyes dart away from your neck to stare at his own hand — for some reason, it’s shaking. His breath is coming out in shallow patterns, but no one except himself seems to notice. It’s almost as if he were invisible, a ghost, like you could break free of Mikey’s grip and run straight past him.

The grip on your neck tightens taut. Haruchiyo imagines the veins that pulsate beneath Mikey’s skin, the blood, the resistance. An arm twists like a leash around your waist; you panic. You mouth half his name in confusion, but it’s difficult to speak when your airways are restricted, the second half teetering into a whimper as if your voice burnt off your tongue. You put your little hands over his, sliding underneath the gaps of his fingers in an attempt to loosen them. Pathetic, choked squeals gradually increase in volume, and Haruchiyo starts to feel his own breathing stutter, and he has to start holding his breath for fear of making his presence known.

Is this it? Is this where it ends? He has his hand on your neck, Haruchiyo swallows. You’re fragile. You will die. You will snap.

But before that— before the unthinkable happens— Mikey will decide to stop. He always does. That’s right, he always does.

The palm recoils, drops, retreats back into Mikey’s shadow, allowing you enough leeway to suck oxygen down your throat. He watches on wordlessly as you still clasp your hands feebly around his for balance, amidst jagged breathing, amidst wobbling legs.

It’s then that Haruchiyo sees them. Sees the grisly purplish swirls and bite marks decorating your neck like a collar, disappearing into the thin sheet of your nightdress where he knows there must be more. Deep violet mirroring the silk-like fabric of his clothing, replicated and imprinted onto once unmarred skin; looking at you makes him think of flowers trampled underfoot. Callously bestowed, deliberate bruises that Mikey lets you parade around in, worn like a brand. A mark of ownership. Oh, my—is that what this is? A show? A display of his King’s indisputable, iron-clad authority? Haruchiyo stifles a shudder.

Mockingly similar to reaching for a kiss, Mikey leans in, his lips hovering over the shell of your ear, whispering something too soft for Haruchiyo to hear that has you freezing on the spot. Your panting breaths almost halt momentarily. He waits for your reply, a tiny little nod, after which your eyes fly downcast, mouth still parted slightly with any possible parting words left unsaid… and Haruchiyo discovers that he is just the least bit disappointed. Empathy has never been his strong suit — never had to use it, let alone learn it. He wishes he could break free of this trance and ask you: how does it feel, to be the only woman that Mikey could treat with such gentleness?

The only one.

His jaw stiffens. Somehow, the bottle in his hands has grown slick with his sweat. Somehow, his adrenaline levels have spiked from watching his King put his hands around your throat.

Mikey’s dark shadow retreats from your face when he pulls away. Beige, watered-down sunlight filters in despite the drawn blinds and bounces off the walls, flicking a certain light grey sheen over his hair when he takes a few steps. He brushes past you without a second look, drifting like the afterimage of a phantom, before he pauses. His head cocks back just at the mouth of the entryway, empty stare boring right into Haruchiyo.

(So he had noticed his presence.)

That abyssal black — that bottomless pit of emptiness. Bare-bones sin that Mikey is on his way to commit. This is what you come close to every day. This stare. All Haruchiyo can do in the face of this radiating bloodlust is incline his head in a nod. And his King is quick to fade from view, having faintly acknowledged his second-in-command. The thudding of his steps — thump, thump — reverberate as if he were treading in a black swamp.

You don’t move, don’t break free from your position where he left you, and Haruchiyo doesn’t make a move either, as if the both of you suffered under the after-effects of the same spiritual possession. Until you hear the sound of the elevator dinging amidst pin-drop silence. Slowly, as if thawing out every inch of your ball-jointed body, your figure comes back to life, all in front of his eyes: ruby-scented lifeblood flowing back into the steep crevices of your fingers, your arms, your legs, your head which turns just a sliver of a fraction —

Only to turn stiff as ice when you’re met with him in your way.

Haruchiyo can plainly see how your natural instinct to bolt like a foal kicks in, dousing your body in a bonfire’s blaze — as if a switch was flipped in your head, detaching you from the perfect doll with a thousand-mile stare. An olive gaze burns into the glittering fear reflected in your wide eyes, the widest he has ever seen them to date. He takes a step forward. Then another.

They’re even more enticing up close, he realises. Pretty.

Are they as watery as they look?

If he reaches out he thinks he can juuust about graze the spinning globes in your eye sockets. And, fully intending to test this theory, his fingertips start to raise, almost like marionette strings tied to his instinct — inching and inching, closer and closer. But true to your own instinct you recoil in abject fear, backtracking only for your back to hit against the wall, your little half-squeak sending him hurtling back to reality and blinking twice and… oh. Well. Would you just look at that?

A curious smile upturns his lips; he’s got you cornered without trying. No fun, you’re no fun. He toys with the imagination of what you see with those doe eyes so big with terror — eyes that played witness to so many impromptu executions within the pristine conference room, eyes that bored into his sleep where he could only dream of tarnishing a beauty so unknown to him. But now you’re alone. It’s just you, him, and the sun straining through opaque blinds.

What do you see? A monster? A killer?

He can’t blame you.

“I’m sorry, I-I just, um,” you stammer, your throat bobbing as you swallow — a toddler’s first words? You’re on the floor now, soundlessly yearning to escape from him as far as you can because that look in his eyes cannot mean anything good. Your lips that parted just enough to let those few words slip into the tense silence remain agape, as if you were on the verge of pleading for him to spare your life. Your fingers twist in the material of your sleep shirt, clinging to the cotton, slowly retreating into yourself like a small mouse.

A giddy excitement shoots through his veins. He straightens his back and pops his joints, making a show of stretching the muscles that’ve gone stiff from waiting, the action accompanying a shuddery chuckle. Ah. There’s something innate about you that rouses sympathy from others. If he decides to scare you a little… he doubts it’ll take much work before you’re on your knees shaking.

The scarce luminescence in the room tumbles and shifts like the different stages of limbo. He continues to hold your gaze, admiring how your pupils reflect the light. A hand extends to you and you flinch fiercely, immediately, much to his amusement. “Hey hey hey, what’s wrong? No need to be afraid,” he coos, crouching down to your height, studying your shivering form. “It’s just me, little bunny. I don’t believe I’ve properly introduced myself.”

He feels the effects of the drug start to kick in, the sluggish blurring of his conscience, but more than that he feels the beginning of an urge to press his thumb into your eye socket. “It’s really such a shame, seeing how long we’ve known each other.”

It’s going to be fun— it’s going to be delightful, he decides. A delightful little side-project while his king is off setting things straight. By the time Mikey returns, he wants to have his fill of satisfaction. Of contentment. Life has been so damn stale as of late; nothing about tormenting glitzy prostitutes rings the bell of happiness in him anymore. Mikey will probably kill me, he turns over this thought in his mind, frowning, and decides he wants to live just a little longer — so, sadly, anything fatal will have to be put aside for now.

Just for good measure, just to show respect to the wicked plan solidifying in his head, he reaches for your hand (because it’s not like you’ll willingly offer it to him, right?). He curls the tiny little thing into his own palm, beginning to feel your pulse through a thin muscle in your hands, the rapid thudthudthuds pulsating like a tiny animal fighting to preserve its life. A single word surfaces in his mind: soft. Your hands are soft, tender, just like fondling translucent silk. Huh.

A little life in his hands.

“Bonten’s number two. Sanzu Haruchiyo. You’re in good hands.”

Oh, but truthfully, in everything he does, Haruchiyo tends to overdo it. If not by a teaspoon, then by an enormous handful — an avalanche, even.

#tw yandere #tw breath play #yandere tokyo revengers #tw choking #tokyo rev x reader #mikey x reader #yandere haruchiyo sanzu #haruchiyo x reader #yandere sanzu #chiyu; dark

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