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If something ever feels too good to be true, it probably is.
You used to find comfort in the memories.
Memories of laying barefoot in the setting sun with the wind in your hair and the grass on your skin, whispering to you, letting you breathe ever so easy. The calm before the storm.
Memories of stuffy, humid nights that linger in your mind like fog, bittersweet on your tongue for what once was, what is no more.
Some days are worse than others but you must remain patient. Healing takes time. Yet it’s been years now and you still find yourself wondering if you’ve made any progress at all.
You can tell yourself that you’ve let go, because you have to, but in the dead of night you’ll wake from your sleep after dreaming of the past and wonder where it all went wrong, why it couldn’t have been fixed.
You’re so sick of floating through life, barely there at all.
Though tonight would be different, or so your girlfriend Toga says. She thought it would be sweet to invite you out. Hang out with some of her buddies, you know, get out of your head for a while! You deserved a fun night out. Besides, she talked about you all the time. They practically already knew you!
“Don’t be nervous, everyone will love you! And you’re so adorable! Promise you’ll come?”
What’ve you got to lose? How bad could it be? Lately all you’ve done is spend the weekends pent up in your apartment, watching re-runs of shows you’ve seen a thousand times and scrolling aimlessly through social media. Same old thing, different day. Either feeling too much or nothing at all.
Don’t you ever get tired of being alone?
“I don’t know. Maybe.” You shrug, picking at the area underneath your fingernails to seem distracted.
Parties were never something you went out of your way for, especially ones in which you would be unknown to all but one person.
“That’s not an answer!” She laments anyways, clinging onto your arm with dainty fingers. “C’mon, please, please, please, please-“
You breathe out an exaggerated sigh, sitting with the fact that you didn't seem to be getting anywhere with talking your way out of this.
Stepping out of your comfort zone was something you consciously chose to avoid, but nothing seemed to be going your way lately anyhow. Perhaps this could be your plot’s unexpected turning point where things finally start to get better, and life starts to feel lighter.
“Fine, I’ll go.”
Toga grins ecstatically when you accept her invitation, kissing your cheek gingerly before hopping up in front of you, placing her hands on your knees as you remain planted casually on the edge of your bed.
“What should I wear?” You ask out loud, mainly to yourself but it’s too late to stop her when she has already spun on her heel and is making her way over to your dresser drawers. She begins to shuffle through neatly folded pairs of underwear and other things of the sort before moving on to your closet and sifting a few hangers around, giving up to shoot you a rumpled expression.
“Where do you keep your cute clothes?” Genuine curiosity lilts in her voice, and it's even more disheartening when you know that her intentions aren't to offend.
“Um, wow. Anyways, you haven’t even looked through them, just—“ you rise to your feet, taking a few long strides before you're standing beside her, “let me do it.”
Toga is content enough with your decision to tag along that she doesn’t mind when you disregard her obvious play to assist you in dressing up tonight. You begin sorting through ripped jeans and t-shirts on your own. All you ever did was work and come home so you didn’t have a need for anything super formal. You almost wish she hadn’t of talked so highly of you to her other pals, now it was obligatory to make a good first impression.
You throw together something halfway decent eventually, posing in the mirror with grace as you examine yourself. .
“I don't know, is it too much?” You turn to Toga with your hands by your side and her eyes light up with enchantment.
“Are you joking!? You're Just as cute as I knew you’d be!” She beams with an amicable, pointed grin.
You know she means it with all of her heart, and you smirk, lifting one of your shoulders while batting your eyelashes as if to silently acknowledge her compliment.
Toga waits patiently for you while you fix your hair up and accentuate your facial features with different brushes and blenders, astonished at how much experience you seemed to have. It’s almost like you were a girl or something. She can’t help but envy you just a little, you were so stable and smart and beautiful in comparison to herself.
She's deflected from her train of thought by the sound of you standing up and gathering your things, looking back to her with an apprehensive smile.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
You notice her facial expression drop as soon as the words leave your lips and you instantly regret ever saying anything at all, but before you can apologize, she giggles amicably and tells you that everything will be fine, she trusts her friends so there's no reason why you shouldn't as well, right?
It's just one night, you'll survive, you tell yourself, and you wish you could believe it, but you can't.
You scrape your doubts to the back of your mind for now and let yourself refocus.
You would go and have a few drinks, make your presence known, and then dip.
You’re turning heads as soon as you set foot in a shanty sector of the dim lounge, which was rather unanticipated on your end. There’s a bar some ways in front of you that spans a good chunk of the entire north-end of the wall, decorated with an array of liquors that look rather expensive. The bartender, an ominous mist that mimics a head and two hands, purple in the hue of the light, lingers behind the bar top. You wonder what a quirk like that could be, but before you have time to ponder it you’re distracted by the expanse of booths and tables. Among them, red and blue cups are strewn about a sea of unfamiliar faces.
As you meet a few different pairs of eyes, second thoughts creep into your mind as they bore into you, noticing the way some people even turn back to their groups and chatter amongst themselves.
“Hey, baby! Can I call you!?” A drunk attendee calls out to you as Toga pays no mind, leading you to the bar with her arm clasped in yours. You feel your cheeks inadvertently heat up as you take a seat besides her.
“I think I should’ve worn something more casual, I mean— everyone else seems comfortable.” You speak with hushed words to her, your fingers cupping your cheeks.
“They’re comfortable because they have low opinions of themselves!" she notices that her words aren’t convincing enough as you cast another nervous glance at the array of party-goers, “would you quit worrying already? You look adorable!”
Some have resumed their games that your presence interrupted and others still seem to be in awe, conversing more quietly. It’s almost suspicious and it crosses your mind that you hadn’t seen anything other than a sign that read bar as the building’s only identifying quality. Perhaps it was a hole in the wall that only certain locals had the whereabouts of. You’re about ready to question where she's brought you to until a deep voice from above jolts you out of your skin.
“You know this is a bad idea.”
It’s the mist, and he’s talking to Toga.
“Blah, blah, blah. Can’t I ever have anything nice around here?” She carps lazily, rolling her eyes in response but your mind is reeling as you fight the itch to bring out the elephant in the room.
Yet all is silent and you crack a restless smile as she turns to you.
“Shots?”
You perk up at her rhetorical inquiry, losing all will to fixate on your location. The less you know the better.
You wait and watch bemusedly as glasses rattle around, taking a curious look left and right down the bar. You’re met with nobody else but yourself and Toga...and someone dressed in black all the way at the end.
He was tall, you could tell by the curve of his back and his long, pale fingers that seemed to curve too tautly around the breadth of the crystal in his palm. Maybe he was someone else who had came here under a common circumstance? Though it was obvious that he wasn’t as well-received as you were, with his hood drawn and overall unapproachable bearing.
You consider introducing yourself, but he didn’t look up or around once and you would never have the gall to make the first move.
You’re diverted by the placement of a mystery shot in front of you, turning away from him and back to Toga who’s already prepared with her own in hand.
“What is it?” You bring the rim to your nostrils and cringe but she seems all too excited as she squeals back at you,
“Vodka!”
Before you can work in another pair of words, she’s clinking her glass to yours and throwing back the acrid liquid within it. Quite impressive.
You’re not really a vodka drinker, but you down your own shot quickly nonetheless, retching slightly at the burn the liquor generates in your throat and stomach as you compel yourself not to vomit. In the next moments of your recuperation, you find yourself whirling to scope the plain of the bar in hopes that you’d have the poise to greet the stranger all the way at the end.
It’s empty.
A couple more shots happen to find their way to your person and gradually you formulate enough fortitude to make your way around the premises.
It only took a bit of liquid courage to break you out of your shell, and truly you were doing yourself a favor.
You come to find out after several drunk conversations later that things weren’t so bad, or at least the booze you'd splurged on had made it seem as so.
It’s hard to say no to the few people that had offered to buy you drinks. A couple people even asked you out, to which you kindly declined. Others asked you where you were from, what you did for a living, if you were a hero. You certainly weren’t, you didn’t even have a quirk! It was embarrassing, but right now it felt so easy to tell the truth. These people knew nothing about you, yet everyone was so interested in what you had to say.
This was only your first time here and you were practically a champ by now, it's unfortunate that this moment can't last forever. All things inevitably meet their end, but Dabi knows that you'll find your way safely underneath him on this special night.
He watched you become so acclimated, so quickly with all of your new buddies. Watched them rub on your thighs and perch you on their laps with their fingers dancing testily around your waist, seeing how far you would let them go whilst you babble on about shit they couldn’t care less about.
You’re beginning to falter conveniently before a hand has time to creep its way beneath your skirt.
Dabi is nonplussed when you abruptly push yourself from the burly man's lap and wave an anxious goodbye, cup in hand.
Guess you were a good girl, didn’t want to get taken advantage of or anything.
Smart, but not smarter than Dabi.
As you’re seated in your new location safely away from greasy, roaming fingers, there’s a more compelling danger unbeknownst to you staring right at the back of your skull. It'd been keeping you under surveillance this whole time, carving the shape of your body into the back of its retinas.
You seemed too distracted by the attention you were receiving from everyone else to notice him when you walked through the door. None of these fuckers here would have the balls or the patience to take their time with you. You were just a pretty piece of ass that they’d use and abuse, it’d probably hurt and they wouldn’t care; but he wouldn’t treat you like that, if you behaved. You didn’t have to worry at all.
He catches something blonde and short bob up to your side, and he figures your little girlfriend's diversion could be a good thing. It just gives him more time to undress you from his shady corner.
At some point, your eyes do meet, perhaps by accident when your cell phone plummets to the floor and you’re spinning around with an outstretched palm to enclose it in. You pretend not to notice right away, but that just gives him all the more appetite to pursue you. Playing coy, keeping him at bay.
You think you’re being tactful with the way you keep casting anxious little glances over your shoulder in hopes to look back once more and no longer find his sights trained on you, but the outcome was always the same. No wave or smile or anything to indicate that he was agog to approach you with friendly intentions.
“What’s up, want another drink?” Toga suddenly chirps beside you, completely unsuspecting of your change in attitude. A distracted hum of approval slips from your pretty lips, making no effort to separate them from the slender black straws nestled between the ice in your margarita. She calls to the mist established behind the bar with animated reception, and he speaks to her within earshot of you, but you’re too distrait with the shadow in the corner to decipher any of the words he says.
“Hey, who’s that?” You insert yourself with a voice that seems unnaturally interrogative, but she slides you the glass gleefully and takes her own drink in hand all the same, “Who’s who, babe?”
“Him.” You tip your head vaguely in the direction of your secret admirer, hoping to seem subtle, but Toga whips her head around before you have time to even grit your teeth.
“Oh, him?! That's Dabi,” she may as well have been talking into a microphone, “Why, ya interested?” You could tell from her smirk that her words were meant in jest, but you're discomposed by the feeling that you’ve heard that name from somewhere before, somewhere bad.
“No, he keeps staring at me-" you notice someone clothed in a black and gray bodysuit approaching your friend from behind, and you discontinue the rest of your sentence in order not to draw unnecessary attention to yourself.
You watch him wedge himself between the narrow space next to her body and the following stool. “Mind if I borrow her for a second?”
You’re not sure who he is, and he seems rather audacious, but you can tell that they definitely entertain more than an amicable relationship, judging by the way Toga loops her arm around his and tugs him closer without a second of hesitation.
“Where’ve you been all night!?” She pouts at him sorely, and he wastes no time prattling on, but you’ve already lost interest and instead turn around to steal another glance at the corner.
He's gone.
Confused and slightly on-edge, you turn back to your friend to notice that Toga’s not beside you anymore.
“You’re leaving me here? That dude disappeared, he could pop up anywhere!” You whine in disbelief but she’s already on her feet, fingers intertwined with those of the masked individual beside her who seems eager to flee the scene.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be right back! Just-don't go anywhere!” She speaks quickly as she’s led away and you lose sight of her in the crowd, alone and unsettled.
You contemplate grabbing your keys and ditching the whole event.
Either you drive home and risk killing yourself in the process, or you stay here within the safety of the bar and hope she returns before that creep in the corner hones in on you. You zone out in the process of deciding but something catches the corner of your eye, and your fear of the night comes full circle.
The man of the hour has found the audacity to snake his way onto the empty bar stool a few seats down from you, taking a casual swig from his half empty whiskey glass.
You try to appear laid-back, as if his sudden appearance hadn't scared the absolute shit out of you, but your front is slipping and you’re unable to shake the feeling that he’s here to get closer to you, lure you in, do something bad to you.
Though for all you know, you had the upper hand here. At least up close you could get a better look at him, just in case you noticed something that would be useful later. Just a little gander wouldn’t hurt, even if it was only his side profile.
You move only your eyes at first and conclude that you can’t get a solid look without turning your head. Swallowing your apprehension, you bite the bullet and skim what you can, taking notes as your eyes flit his appearance, absorbing as much detail as you could discern.
His hair is dark, almost unnaturally so, as if it were dyed. It’s thick and seems to spike innately, unkempt but in a rugged, alluring fashion. Your eyes follow the shape of his jawline and all of its glory to where his scars meet his chest, decorated with metal staples that seem to be ingrained beneath his skin. Piercings adorn the shell of his ear and nostril, and you wonder for a moment if he did them himself. The longer you observe him, the weaker your inquisitorial lens becomes until you’re reaching the conclusion that he’s…kind of attractive?
You clamp your thighs together as a rush of heat bursts forth in your lower abdomen, unable to ignore your budding carnal desires that have lay dormant for so long. It’s dismal how you’ve let yourself become so comfortable with the notion that nothing like this would ever happen, always playing on the safe side, protecting your peace but repressing your needs all the while.
Dabi makes an effort not to smirk at the way you’re ogling him from a few bar stools down, turning his head a pinch to the right when he trusts that you aren’t going to look away. The process in which your eyes affix with his predacious guise has the pit in your stomach feeling heavier, but you can’t bring yourself to break the stare. He curtly tilts his head upwards in a gesture to greet you, and shyly you wave back.
You want to say something, anything, but all you can think about is getting as far away from him as possible. He continues to leer at you and without knowing what else to do, you snap your eyes away from him at once. Toga was gone, still nowhere to be found from what you could see. Perhaps when you sobered up, you could reflect on tonight and start thinking about new ways to spend your weekends.
Though for now, you would have to endure.
“Hey. C’mere.”
You knew it was coming, like clockwork his voice projects and there’s no one else around. He’s talking to you. You’re frozen in time, unprepared for an encounter like this tonight and surely not sober enough to deal with it.
“Me?” The word barely passes your lips as you glance over at him, pointing to your own chest, mindlessly attempting to fill the empty space of time in hopes that anyone at this point would appear to save the day.
“Yeah, you. Come here.”
Your top provides little protection from his invasive gaze, lingering just a little longer than necessary below your chin as you shift slightly to face him. There’s an unruffled calmness in his command, as if he has you all figured out, and you suddenly feel a lot smaller in his company. He’s already got you right where he wants you, and much to his surprise, you obey him so readily.
He can’t help the grin that splays across his face as you drunkenly slide yourself over to him.
“Grab your drink,” he points with sharp eyes to your glass, and again you do as he tells you, reaching across the bar top to glide it your way. You’re not sure why you’re complying. Perhaps it was his demeanor, or his irregular appearance, both intimidating and oddly arousing.
“What’s in there?” He asks you casually, and even then he can feel your wariness in his presence. In a different way it almost breaks his heart. Come on, he wasn’t a bad guy, really. You would see.
“Margarita.”
At your short answer, he narrows his eyes. You’re being such a tight-lipped brat, why don’t you want to talk to him? You seemed to have no issue flapping your gums to those other fucks, even sat on their laps, let them feel you up.
“You like those?”
“I guess.”
Awkwardly, you take another sip of your drink as the interrogation continues.
“What about your boyfriend, does he like them?"
You snort at what he insinuates. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have right now, or at all, especially not here with someone you didn't trust.
Though objectively, he was a complete stranger, and it was a simple question, so why couldn’t you answer it?
You’re more sensitive these days than you’d like to admit and it pisses you off that you’re barely able to respond to something so surface level without becoming painfully aware of the emptiness it brings forth your chest.
"I don’t have a boyfriend.” You don’t face him when you speak but he can see the way your eyes glimmer with unshed tears in the lowlight.
He feels like a dick for wanting to laugh. Clearly he's struck a nerve, but he knows he doesn’t deserve to see your vulnerability, and he can’t begin to fathom why you’re showing it to him. The least he could do is pretend to care, despite his lack of empathy.
“You wanna talk about it?” he turns towards you with his glass positioned ordinarily between his fingers, “Get your heart broken or somethin’?”
You don’t want to admit it, but something about his demeanor is causing a fire in your chest as you fidget with the contents of your drink. He doesn’t expect you to respond to him, wants to stop you when you try to because he knows he is a thousand times worse than whoever it is that’s surfaced in your mind right now.
“Something like that,” you laugh anxiously to yourself before looking over at him, “it was just...I don't know, after someone cheats it's just never the same.” You’re not sure why you're so quick to disclose such a sensitive piece of your past, but it’s not often that you let yourself think out loud as much as you have tonight. That was always a component of your identity that you’d held back, but you had nothing to lose anymore and you could at least find peace somewhere in knowing that whatever you said to him wouldn't matter in the morning. He didn’t even know you.
Dabi remains silent as you blather on about your break up, half-listening and studying the prisms of colors that glisten on the glass of the liquor bottles through the backlit cabinet. You’ve got to know there’s nothing he could really do to help you with your emotional baggage, he wasn't here for that shit.
But he lets you finish venting, because he's a gentleman, and he’s on a mission, after all.
When you finally take a breath to wet your lips, he intervenes.
“Well, that’s too bad, huh? You seem like a good girl. Real pretty, too. You’ll find better, yeah?”.
It was confounding to receive something other than pity for once after divulging the details of your former dysfunctional love life, and you look down at the bar top as you twiddle with your rings, unable to keep the grin of validation from showing on your lips.
He called you pretty, a complete stranger. It never felt so gratifying to accept a compliment.
“Thank you.” Your voice sounds distant and meek to your own ears, but Dabi hears you loud and clear, and he can tell you're flustered.
He chuckles leniently with the extension of a scarred hand in your direction, placing a singular warm finger underneath your chin. You stiffen at the sensibility of his skin on yours, allowing him to guide your face back towards his while your heartbeat accelerates, meeting his eyes without restraint.
“Say thank you, Dabi,” he corrects you, letting his fingers graze your jaw as they re-occupy his glass.
“Thank you, Dabi.”
The groin of his pants stretch just a little tighter as you maintain eye contact, pleasantly intrigued with your reciprocation.
“Yeah, you’re welcome...”
His words trail off as his eyes devour every inch of your supple little body from his point of view, making their descension to your thighs.
Was every part of you this stunning? Hard to believe someone could be thick-skulled enough to let a dime like you walk away.
Even so, he knows eventually you’ll find someone that actually gives a fuck about you and when you do, he’ll never see you again. He was fine with knowing that, but for now he would fit the role well, and when you’re split open on his dick later, he’ll be sure to let you know how precious you really are.
On the contrary, you seem a bit inexperienced, but that’s perfectly alright by him. He’ll take care of you tonight, you don’t have to worry about a thing. He even has a magic little pill that will help you loosen up, make you feel real good. Your issues won’t matter much longer. Promise.
At last when you finally spot your blonde-haired girlfriend amongst the mass of uncanny faces, you’re quick to turn away from him to wave her over eagerly, and that’s when he strikes, so deftly that you would never suspect a thing.
Dabi feigns a smile when you spin yourself back around, grinning dumbly at him like he was your friend, as if your entire conversation hadn’t even happened.
If only you would have kept your pretty little wits about you.
It was a shame, truly.
You’d stay away from him—away from everyone here—if you knew what was good for you, but naturally, you don’t.
Dabi can work with that.
“Get rejected yet?” Toga jeers immediately in his direction once she's within earshot, leaning against her palms on the shiny, slick bar top. Her buns seem messier, fly-away hair no longer tucked away in their less-than-conventional spots, mascara smeared underneath her eyes. It doesn't take a whole lot for you to fill in the blanks.
“Fuck off. We were gettin’ to know each other,” he places a hand on your upper thigh, squeezing it lightly, “ain’t that right, doll?”
Before you have time to register that he’d just groped you, she shoos his hand from from your leg. “Stop it, you're gonna make her leave!”
Entirely unaware to her, you've already settled with the fact that there was no realistic chance of you leaving even if you wanted to. It’d be a miracle if you could manage to find the exit through the mass of sweaty bodies and poor illumination.
“I’m fine,” you lilt in spite of it all, “c’mon, l-let’s take an intermission.” You grab Toga’s shoulder to steady yourself as you slink from the rickety bar stool.
Your fingers outstretch to curl around the rim of your new and improved drink, sliding it towards you with such ignorant nonchalance before turning to wave an obligatory goodbye to Dabi.
He throws you another upward nod of his chin, tormented by the sight of your ass cheeks just barely peeking out from the bottom of your mini skirt. He knew you had a pretty body to match that pretty face of yours. He could hardly wait to see how you would look all spread out and needy for him. You’ve been so obedient, even told him thank you. That would get you places around here.
He downs a booster shot of whiskey before returning to his initial spot on the wall across the far end of the bar. Staking out there for the rest of the night ought to be a good place to keep tabs on you, monitor your body language, lest anything go awry.
A handful of others stopped by to converse briefly with him about nothing in particular, some about you. He's hardly listening when they toss around an array of graceless commentary.
Dabi couldn't help but resent you for the way you'd initially been so frigid towards him, and yet you seemed to have no problems flaunting yourself to all of these other bastards. He could burn this whole fucking foxhole and everyone in it to the ground if he really wanted to, but he has enough self-control to keep that from happening. So he sits back and waits his turn, placated by the thought of knowing that you've played right into his cunning scheme.
It took all of but a few hours for him to get you alone.
As alone as he could at least, away from the blaring pulse of the anteroom stuffed with other villains drunk enough to stay inattentive while he made off with you.
“I’m going to—lay down...—don’t feel so good.” You reckon taking refuge on a vacant booth on the other side of the room would give you some time to recover, fighting the bitter rise of stomach acid harboring in the back of your throat. Toga offered to take you to her room, but you didn’t want to tap out yet; the night would be over and that meant you'd have to return to your boring, routine life.
When a small part of your brain entertained the notion that maybe someone, at some point, had slipped something into your drink, you were quick to write it off as the anxiety of getting too drunk in an unfamiliar setting. You just had to lay down, be still for a bit, recalibrate.
Though it was also conceivable that not everyone around you had your best interest at heart and you were just too gullible to recognize it.
The longer you remained at rest, the more distorted and foreign the background noise of your surroundings become until you blank, hopeless in a sea of uncertainty.
Even here, with others who seemingly enjoyed your company, the deepest twinge of despondency still manages to creep its way into the recesses of your mind.
These weren’t your friends. In truth, even Toga was questionable as you wracked your brain for a fact about her that would put you at ease.
Nothing.
You knew nothing.
Fuck, you had to get out of here.
Panic swells in your chest, scrambling for your phone before a thud on the table above you has your eyes flicking open.
“You okay?” You think someone asks you, but you can barely hear anything over the pounding of your own heart against your ribcage.
In the blink of your intoxicated eye, you’re being scooped up out of your resting place and into the arms of a stranger. The weight in your chest grows heavier but you can’t scream, can barely move. Your limbs feel frozen with the sensation of trying to run in a dream.
Alcohol doesn’t make you feel like this.
“I’m takin’ her to the bathroom, she looks sick.” The same muddled voice comes again and you strain your eyes harder as darkness sheathes you both, but you can’t make out anything past a figure clad in black.
Who had on black tonight? A lot of people, you think, and then you’re being shoved against a cold, plastered wall and held there by your throat.
Something rigid scrapes against your cheek and your mouth falls open, but your gasp, scream, whatever you can muster right now is caught deep in your throat.
You can only toe perilously at the floor to keep from choking. Whiskey and burning smoke mingles with the light aroma of faded cologne, and Dabi’s half-scarred lips collide with yours.
He watches the way your doe eyes widen as you whine into his mouth, recoiling against the hard surface before you try and slither underneath his arms. His tormenting chuckle fills your ears as he grabs you by the wrist and slams you back into your original position, ears buzzing as your vision flashes white. You feel the impenetrable pressure of his hand around your throat again and you plead to him with desperate eyes as your lips gape for a breath of oxygen.
"Where do you think you’re goin’?” Dabi growls menacingly against your cheek before his tongue darts out to lick the tears that are making their way regrettably towards your chin.
You wince and he grins when your little fingers come to pry at his, scratching his knuckles with your nails hard enough to make blood pool underneath them. It's a fruitless struggle, but there's nowhere for you to run, to cower from him like you did earlier.
"Gonna be good for me?" His voice comes out husky and low as he speaks against your temple, taunting you with gentle kisses as your soft little lips expel a high-pitched, strangled cry.
"Gonna be a good fuckin’ slut for me?" He repeats with emphasis. You feel like you're on the verge of suffocating, nodding your head blindly to express your acknowledgement of his awful request.
"Yes? Yes, you'll be good?"
Your head bobs rapidly for a second time, and when the pressure on your neck grows lighter, a sob expels full-fledged from your chest as you replenish your burning lungs.
"Sh-sh-sh, don't cry...you're gonna be fine, sweetheart." The same hand that he'd strangled you with comes to brush away your tears, skimming your features with pseudo intimacy. He rests his thumb lightly on your bottom lip before pulling it down to work it into your mouth.
You're paralyzed with fear, listening to him grumble underneath his breath as he assaults your tongue, swirling it around and pressing it deeper, loving the way you gag for him when he reaches too far.
His strange lips caress the side of your face until you feel his breath unfurling across your own that quiver, seducing them to seal with his as you feel the faintest of flutters within your gut at the contact.
Dabi grabs your waist lightly to pull you into his chest, letting his fingers roam carefully around your body while he maneuvers you into relaxing. It's wrong but you can't help the way you whimper into his mouth when his fingers curl around the front of your top, easing it down with little resistance until your perky breasts pop free.
He leaves your lips empty, pulling back to marvel at the sight of you on full display, sucking air through his teeth. “Cute little tits.”
One finger toys with a nipple before dipping down to replace its warmth with the searing heat of his tongue, your senses bursting to life.
Such a delicious sound barely ripples from your chest even when you fight against it, something like a squeal and a moan and he chuckles wholesomely, as if it’s the most delightful thing he’d ever heard.
Your fingers are twitching as you struggle to make a fist, tears of confusion and stupefaction springing into your eyes and falling down your cheeks. His tongue teases each of your buds until they’re hard and glazed with his saliva.
Teeth latch softly over your delicate, stiff flesh, closing his lips around your nipple in a harsh suck that has you shuddering involuntarily.
The staples around his mouth prod and scratch at your bust and you search for the willpower to repel him, but you’re too weak, too small, too sweet. Your limbs are practically lead, you’re moving in slow motion but everything else is happening too fast.
The weak nudges you bestow upon his shoulders are useless, you’re only wasting your energy, prolonging your suffering.
At last, Dabi grants your swollen nipples some relief, trailing his lengthy appendage from your cleavage, to your damp jawline, to the hot flesh of your earlobe, grazing it lightly with the steel tip of his tongue piercing. You can feel heat in your stomach, unfurling throughout your middle as he hovers over your ear. He knows you’re at his mercy, he could bend you in half and snap your neck before you even have time to scream, leave you lying in a filthy ditch for the heroes to find, but Dabi likes you and he knows you don’t deserve that.
Your skin is velvet beneath the callouses on his fingertips, flustered and untainted, ready to be defiled by him because this is what you deserve for being such a fucking tease.
He gives each of your breasts a few harsh slaps,
"Who are you gonna be good for?” Each blow alternates back and forth until you eventually cave, defying the arousal your body is deriving from his vicious undertaking.
“F-For y-you...” The words have your inner muscles flexing around nothing, much to your distaste, as the pooling warmth in your lower belly grows more intense. He affronts you with a mystified expression as you impel yourself further into the wall, squirming beneath him, a fly caught in his sadistic web.
“C’mon I can’t hear you!” Dabi's voice sends needles into your skin, but you can hardly speak, and as a result a single palm grows hotter and hotter on the soft flesh of your bosom, ripping a cry of pain straight from your larynx.
“Ah- Dabi! I'll be- g-good for you, Dabi!” You say in one breath.
“Yeah, that’s it.” He seems content enough with your answer this time, relishing in the way your mascara smudges across your cheeks, mingling with pretty tears and sweat. You look so miserable, so goddamn helpless. The only thing keeping you afloat right now is his voice, his eyes, his hands on your body, but don’t you worry. He’s got you and he won’t let you go.
“C’mere, baby.” He breathes, digging fingertips into your waist to peel your half-limp figure off the wall like silicone. Your back rests flush against his front, lurking behind you with hot palms that cup your breasts from underneath, massaging and kneading them. “Fuck,” he groans out, growing rougher in his own arousal until you react.
“Please s-s-top…”
"Ohh, please stop, please,” he mimics you, copying the doleful ring in your voice with malice, curling one of one of your arms behind your lower back and sending a shooting pain up through your muscle that makes you squeal.
“C’mon, I haven’t even done anything yet.”
He talks over your cries that are begging him to let go, but it’s all for nothing, you know this. Your helpless little snivels are driving him crazy and he can’t help but push his tented pants into your ass for a spot of relief. His rhythmic grunts scathe you as the fingernails of his adjacent hand dig harder into the fragile flesh of your waist.
"You know what’s gonna happen to you now, right?" he taunts. "I know you're a smart girl, right?”
You’re too focused on trying not to pass out, but he demands an answer with a hard smack against one of your breasts, and you arch into him with a miserable cry.
"R-right!"
"Right...of course you are, such a smart girl..." Dabi could have overpowered you the moment he had you within his reach, could have burned your clothes straight off your body and impaled you on his dick so fast that you’d be seeing stars. But there was nothing gratifying in it for him if he didn’t torment you a little bit first. At least it would make you shut up for a while.
He glides one hand down the skin of your stomach until it settles beneath your skirt, separating your thighs from behind with his knee.
“P-Please—don’t...” you implore him in vain, all too aware of the damp fabric embracing your crotch, sinking into the crease created by your folds. All of the adrenaline you've been feeling has gathered in the opening between your legs, alongside the unanticipated arousal he'd subjected you to earlier while he whispered delicately against your skin. Soft pleas roll off your tongue as you buck your hips lightly to feel the gentle friction the garment causes against your hardened clit, sighing out softly.
“Please don’t what?” Dabi utters lowly, bringing you out of your warped angelic haze with fingers that pinch and pull at your puffy skin through the soiled crotch of your panties. He tugs upwards and your soft cunt puckers as it swallows your panties. “Play with your little pussy?”
He’s pleased with how well you’ve been doing for him so far. You can plead him to stop until you're breathless, but your nipples are erect and sensitive, and the wetness he feels soaking his knuckles is all the confirmation he needs to know that you're loving every minute of what's happening to you.
“You’re gettin’ me nice and hard, baby.” He says, as if what he’s telling is meant to be reassuring in some way. But you can only shake your head, and Dabi laughs, thinking you’re in some sort of denial. You really are a good girl, letting a stranger touch your pretty cunt like this, doing as you’re told because your life depended on it. He exploits the weakest part of you, and you're unable to shake the feeling of his lips in your hair and on your neck. Incoherent grunts in your ear are a frightening yet provoking addition to the hardness of his dick pressing into your ass, and the way he rewards you with wispy kisses and words of affirmation whenever you tremble for him makes it hard for you to profess that you weren't indulging in even the slightest of ways.
You could never admit it, pretending that your panties weren’t sticky with your mess as his fingers slowly stretched them to the slide. You refuse to acknowledge the way he caresses his middle finger lightly up the side of your tight slit, deliberately avoiding your clit, and the way it makes you shudder puts him at a new high.
"Fucking whore…" He whispers hotly in your ear and you pule in response to his inspection, shaking your head with refusal to give in. “Somethin’ you wanna tell me?"
You shake your head again, sniffling as he reaches the apex of your sex, circling two fingers lightly around your clit to spread your slick.
“It’s okay, you can say it feels good…” he mumbles, fondling you slowly with hostile breaths against your skin, and you have to force a moan back down into your chest through closed lips. “C’mon, bitch, use your fucking words,” he snaps. “You’re not that dumb.”
He doesn’t know what you’re trying so hard to deny, but he doesn’t care either way. Your body doesn’t defy what it really wants and he’s got everything you need.
“Say it. C’mon, tell me how much you need it.”
You're not ready to accept the truth despite the evidence all over his fingers.
“Say “I’m Dabi’s little whore, and I want him to fuck me until I can’t stand.”” He commands you, but when you make no effort to obey, he grows impatient and grabs you roughly by the hair to pull your neck back so that his lips can touch the space beneath your earlobe.
“Fucking say it, bitch or I’ll break your goddamn neck-“ you can feel the pressure release from your scalp and transfer to your windpipe instead as all the air you’d been gulping during your sobbing gets cut off abruptly by his fingers crushing grip.
Panicked, you obey, giving him what he wants until he eases up, satisfied with your cooperation.
You’re a wreck. You should’ve been disgusted with yourself, humiliated with how little effort it took for you to give in, but whatever he drugged you with has got you so incredibly wet and submissive, and that’s just how he likes them.
“Good, see…now you get a reward.” He soothes you, easing his middle-most digits past the resistance of your un-stretched opening until your cunt sucks his fingers in on its own. You bite back a noise of unanticipated relief at the entry, but you can’t keep quiet for long as he pushes deeper. “That’s it, baby…fuck…” Just as tight as he thought you’d be, he really scored a good one tonight.
Your cries of pleasure only grow more frequent as he eases into a rhythm that has you growing hotter with your approaching climax. His hand reaches down into the crease of your leg, hiking it upwards with little resistance in order to reach his fingers deeper inside of you. He plunges them once, twice, three times, and you’re moaning remorsefully as you angle your torso for him to hit it right there and fuck, it’s so good.
You never wanted to give him the complacency of knowing you were getting off, but you're past the point of no return, and you know it. He knew you would succumb to him once he made you feel good, and that’s all he’s ever wanted to do.
At the same time, you don’t want it to feel good. You want him to be rough and harsh, want to beseech him to just get it over with, but your tears are beginning to dry and you’re making such beautiful little noises for him, hips jolting as his fingers pummel skillfully in and out of your tight hole. If you close your eyes and concentrate hard enough, maybe you could picture someone else, anyone else, but it’s useless. You know it’s Dabi, and you can’t block it out.
He knows you’re close and the idea of ripping your pleasure away from you at any given moment entices him.
Dabi grins against the heated flesh of your neck, kissing it tenderly before resting his chin over top your shoulder to peer down at the work he was making of you.
“P-Please sto-p..." You struggle to speak. “Gonna…c-c-“ He can feel your little hole fluttering with the promise of your unwanted orgasm and the thought of you wrapped snugly around his shaft makes him groan outwardly, drumming his fingers even faster as he chases his own high vicariously through you. “Go ahead, baby. You can come all over my fucking fingers right now, and then I’m gonna fuck your little cunt and make you come aga-“
“What the hell are you doing?”
Another voice suddenly interrupts amongst the resounding waves of bliss crashing inside your head but this one doesn’t belong to Dabi.
For a moment your heart skips a beat of uncertainty as his fingers withdraw, the expectation of this antic to meet it’s end a relief and a curse as the pressure that had built inside of you begins to falter. You blink slowly through your muddled vision to see another unfamiliar face whose name you can’t call to mind, someone else you don't think you've ever seen before, until the light catches his silhouette just right to reveal an unceremonious black hoodie and the pale slivers of hair that emerge from inside of it.
Whatever part of his face that isn’t obscured seems tired. You fix your eyes on his visage that is twisted slightly in confusion, but not disgust, and you can swear that you feel your mouth open but there is only silence after that.
“Cute, ain’t she?”
Your stomach drops when Dabi’s voice gloats lecherously with pride, as if he were unveiling some hidden secret.
His drenched fingers noisily tap your exposed cunt and you jolt back to reality, thighs trembling as the one he'd been holding falls back to the ground. He instead chooses to grapple at your breasts again, giving them a couple harsh smacks before he senses your passive, pathetic attempt to curl in on yourself and quickly puts you to a halt with a spark on your nipple. You yelp and still yourself, hot tears of pain and humiliation overflowing in your eyes.
An uncomfortable heat laps across your cheeks as you stay completely exposed for the newcomer in front of you. Your wet pulsing sex on full display, your creamy tits standing perky on their own.
“Yeah, let ‘em see how pretty you look.” Dabi's gruff voice directs you, letting his hands glide down the curve of your back, peering at his leader over your shoulder with testing eyes. He pauses to press his thumbs into the craters above your hip bones, and much to his surprise, you moan ever so softly.
“She’s been such a good girl for me...haven't you?” Dabi gives your mistreated chest another swift slap and you wince but remain steady in his arms.
"Y-yes..." You whimper, unrecognizable to your own ears.
Tears race down your cheeks, and Tomura tries to ignore the way his cock briefly twitches in his pants. His apathetic mind is plagued with the impulse to lay all ten fingers on Dabi and watch him crumble to a slow, agonizing death. He’s grappling to keep his composure, but he questions why he would even want to help you anyways.
Don’t think he didn’t notice you gallivanting from table to table earlier tonight, you seemed to be a huge hit; but you come around here meddling with scum, you’re bound to suffer some repercussions sooner or later. Maybe you should take this as a lesson to stay in your place, if he didn’t decide to kill you before the sun rose.
There’s only silence aside from the pounding of your heart against your sternum as scarlet orbs stare back at you inquisitively from a few feet away, stiff as a board.
Barbaric fingers continue to prod and caress as they please across your body, procuring pleasure in the way you jump each time a flash of cerulean heat licks over your skin.
Tomura scoffs.
This was impulsive and reckless, the League had more important things to worry about right now. You were just a distraction to him, to everybody, as a matter of fact and this whole shitty party was a waste of time. He almost felt sorry for you, for letting your guard down so easily around trash like Dabi. Though he had to admit, your outward appearance is more interesting than most civilians he’d seen in his day.
You’re young, and pretty if he ever used that descriptor, easy on the eye. Your lips parted ever so slightly, hair slightly tousled, a thin layer of sweat sheathed over your skin as your chest rose and fell with each shaky breath your lungs expelled. Something about you was so innocently provocative and he didn’t like what it was doing to him.
He would have much rather spared you the trauma and demanded Dabi get you out of his sight, but the taut stretch of his pants expanding over his groin fared challenging to ignore, especially when you looked like that.
“She’s quirkless, you know,” Dabi presses on, grasping your cheeks harshly in one hand, squishing them together in ridicule as your blurred vision pans back and forth. “Completely pure...I don't even think she knows where she is,” his grin pulls at the corners of his mouth, tugging his staples carelessly.
It takes every ounce of willpower within him for Tomura not to gaze at your perfect little breasts, the curve of your hips and the aperture in between your legs, so delicate and gleaming with your own disgusting exhilaration.
Unexpected to all but Dabi, his fingers slip past your tense opening and the sensation of wanting to climax engulfs you all over again, a wanton moan tearing itself from your vocal cords.
“You’re sick.”
Tomura finally speaks, but not to you.
There’s a harsh edge to his voice and you wonder if he would lunge forward, put an end to all of this and offer to take you home where you would stay and never set foot in here again.
“Oh, yeah? And what does that make you, boss?” Dabi narrows his eyes, speaking over your soft moans. “You’re the one still standin’ here, watchin’ me.”
Tomura can’t repudiate that your sounds of delectation are making him painfully hard.
You're cognizant of the way that he hasn’t made any efforts to help you, and he doesn’t plan to either.
He’s unraveling in lieu, shuffling awkwardly at the scene unwinding before his eyes. The way you keep pushing and grinding your body against Dabi’s chest while his fingers are settled in the warmth of your pussy drives him insane for reasons he can’t understand.
Fingernails dig unrelenting into his neck, engraving fresh scratches over scars.
Letting yourself be touched so easily by somebody as disgusting as him without even so much as a shred of resistance, not even an afterthought, makes his lip curl slightly in disdain.
It annoys him, really. Little brats like you annoy him. So whiny and dumb and eager to submit for a way out.
He’ll be damned if he walked away now and let Dabi hog your perfectly warm body all for himself. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d even had the opportunity to stick his dick in something other than his fist.
The next time you cumulate what’s left of your thoughts, you find yourself empty, and suddenly sandwiched between Dabi’s body and the stranger’s who stumbled upon the scene.
You start to wail at the lively advancement of Tomura’s clammy digits fidgeting with the thin fabric of your top, but Dabi’s hand clamps over your mouth to muffle you.
“Shut up…” he grumbles as fabric unravels and crumbles to dust against your chest. You’re petrified but fascinated at the same time, unable to react to the lithe, cold fingertips now skimming across the outline of your bust with raised pinkies.
“She is cute.” Tomura finally agrees, “look at this body…” his fingers leave a painfully obvious impression in your mind and you can’t articulate what it is that you’re connecting, but it’s too late for you to care when you feel the flat of his tongue on your nipple.
Your eyelids flutter, and Dabi takes that as a sign that you’ve given in again, slipping his hand from your mouth. You sigh out without will at the softness the wet appendage brings, and you’re sidetracked by the thought of how good it would feel rolling across your clit. Tomura practically cackles at you when you react for him with little hesitation, dry cracks splitting in his lips as his grin sprawls lavishly across his ghostly features. "That easy, huh?" He says to you with contempt in his abrasive vocal cords, but you don't bother to contest him as he crouches down. As soon as his face is level with your hips, he's practically rolling at the scent of your womanly arousal.
The tip of his tongue prods at your clothed clit, breath fanning over your clothed core as lips close around the wet spot of your panties, eating you out through the fabric.
“P’lease-noo…” You slur desperately, hips rolling without will as you blink up into Dabi’s eyes above you. You’re too clouded with lust to notice the way he begins closing the space between your neck and his face. The tip of his nose brushes against your jugular, letting a few airy kisses space you out before he sucks more intensely, intending to bruise.
You moan pitifully and he smiles briefly before he moves to a different area to taint. Concurrently, Tomura pauses his oral exploration to slide four frigid fingers under your skirt, yanking the damp fabric of your panties to the side so he can see you fully. He enters one spindly digit inside of you in an experimental manner, flicking his eyes up the bend of your body as you gasp out unexpectedly when a torrent of pleasure explodes like fireworks inside your lower half.
He wets the dryness on his lips before closing them around your clit that’s nearly bursting with pressure, suckling vaguely before he’s lapping and swallowing, a middle finger pumping you to sweet bliss.
“Ah-a- f-fuck, ohmygod,” the stimulation sends more erratic, dense pressure to swell within your pussy, tightening more and more, balancing on the tips of your toes. “P-Please…s-stop— 's too much, too much—“
“Shh...” Dabi watches a few tears drip down your face before he brushes them away with his thumb in a mockery of affection. “I know you’re a dirty slut that can’t help it, but you gotta be quiet, okay?” His voice tapers off into a whisper and you feel him planting kisses on your salty cheeks, over and over until your incautious cries fade back into soft, angelic little cadences.
Fingers grasp your jaw to pull your face closer to his, neck craning to get a better look at your pretty lips. He leads your mouth to his, biting your sensitive flesh lightly as you gasp with each swipe of Tomura’s tongue against the raw nerves of your clit.
He’s hovering on purpose, close enough to share your breath but never fully kissing you and you moan into his mouth as another wave of pressure hits you deeper, a second finger easing past the restriction of your opening to spread you even wider.
Tomura pulls back for a moment to admire your hole that is pulsing dreadfully around his colorless digits. “Tight little cunt- tastes so fucking good…” He mutters to himself, and in a matter of seconds, he’s got his lips sealed around you again, sucking at your aching pearl before his tongue darts in a stuttering motion against it.
“Ah—! Mmm...” You throw your head back and Dabi presses a large hand to your mouth to keep you from screaming. You’re scrunching your brows as your lower body stiffens with the flare of release. The fingers inside of you have merely become an object for you to fuck yourself on as Tomura holds them steady while you pivot your haunches, letting his tongue do all the work.
Dabi rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, savoring the scene before his eyes. "That’s real fuckin’ hot, baby.” His muted words push you along until you’re two seconds from bursting. You’d probably be repulsed with yourself later but you have other priorities right now. You can’t go another second, you need it so fucking bad and it’s right there, right there, right there—
Your mouth is gaping as you feel the start of your climax finally start to pierce your physicality and then it’s...
Gone?
Tomura cruelly pulls his hand away from your body, and your clit throbs painfully with unreleased pressure.
“Plea-se! Why!?“
He casually pushes up his sleeves as he ascends to full height, leaving you empty and confused and shaking with the lingering measly afterglow of a hollow climax. You choke out another whimper of opposition and both of them chuckle in tandem as you start to cry, and it fills Tomura with so much glee, so much power, to see you in tears over your lost orgasm. He could do this all night if he wanted to. Never letting you finish, leaving you unsatisfied. How much of an entertainment piece would it be to bind you in ropes and gag you, completely immobile and helpless with your hole on full display for him to play with as much as he wanted? All for him, to punish and fuck as he pleased. He would keep you like that for days on end, feeding you like a dog and leaving you horny and in pain until you’re practically manic. You’d be his and his alone, and he’d bring you higher every time but never would he let you come until you showed him you truly deserved it.
Tomura’s uncomfortably aware of the way his dick pushes against his zipper, and it’s almost too much to bear but he has enough willpower not to undo his pants and fuck you right here. You feel the vibrations from Dabi’s voice rumble in his chest as they trade words that are garbled to your ears. You’re lost in the hot, velvet passion of their warm bodies on yours, cruel palms mauling your breasts, gracing your thighs subtly and catching on your hips.
You're being lifted and the next time your eyes fly open, your back is falling upon a discolored, rickety couch in the corner of a newer, emptier coordinate. Their bodies are closing in on you again, but there's something more lustrous and feral in their movements this time. Tomura sits with the back of your head settled on his lap and Dabi makes quick work of shrugging off his jacket, grabbing his undershirt from the back. You watch with bemused, teary eyes as the muscles of his torso flex when the garment is pulled forward over his head, mussing his dark hair whilst uncovering stapled patches that extend and contort to the build of his stomach.
A slick white trail scatters south past the waistband of his pants, disappearing into the V-formation beneath his belt and it's relieving to know that even your blasted mind is still cognitive enough to note such a significant discoloration. A faint grunt of alleviation rumbles from his chest as he starts to undo the buckle, ripping you from your silent vindication.
“M-mm...n-no— w-wait,” you twist and turn helplessly when Dabi’s fingers reach out to grab your panties in an effort to pull them down, “please-plea-se, wait...”
“Wait for what?” He quips smugly with with a smirk as you clench your thighs together around his hand in a final, pointless effort to keep yourself intact. “Been waitin’ all night, doll.” Rough palms swiftly close around your ankles, abruptly tugging your entire torso in his direction to re-fix your lower limbs.
Tomura could have undoubtedly disintegrated your underwear, but it was difficult to gauge where your skin was beneath the material at this angle and he wouldn’t want to kill you, would he?
Besides, it proves to be all the more rewarding to feast their eyes on the evident mess of arousal that you leave behind in the cotton of your panties as they’re peeled away. They both groan simultaneously and your clit twitches as Dabi reaches down in between your thighs to slowly spread your folds apart, aching with the redness of your ruined orgasms.
"Look at that...poor girl," he taunts before leaning down closer to your exposed cunt.
Instantly, you raise your hips in a gesture for more, the urge to orgasm reclaiming you so soon as your body begs for liberation.
“You want me to eat you out, baby?” Dabi teases you, massaging his thumb across the top of your clit as heat blossoms in your cheeks. And of course you nod at him, just like he expected you would.
“Ask me nicely, like a good little slut.”
You can’t take it any longer, it feels like your body is going to explode, hankering with the agitation of your greed, and you give in.
"Please make me come-" you nearly sob and Dabi grunts pleasurably, latching his lips onto your clit.
Your back arches into Tomura’s lap, gasping breathlessly as you glance back down and catch a glimpse of the steel in Dabi’s tongue piercing on your clit. Suddenly Tomura is digging two fingers behind your knees to pull them back to your chest.
Your little pussy puckers even more, His forearms latch underneath them to keep you wide open for his counterpart, and in this new position you feel everything so much deeper.
“Yeah, just like that...” Dabi groans lowly, “Gonna squirt for me?” He leans up slightly, pressing the palm of his other hand on your lower stomach as his fingers curl with intention inside of you. He draws them back and then renters your hole, searching for a rhythm before he leans forward and drives his forearm with his movements. And when he does, you nearly scream, but Tomura is quick to keep you quiet, placing a few fingers inside of your mouth like a gag.
You don’t understand what he’s doing to you, why it feels so good, why you’re so out of breath—not until the pressure gathering inside of you becomes deeper and deeper until something snaps within your center and you’re drooling around Tomura’s fingers that muffle your sobs of pleasure.
“N-nnng—“ Scalding tears are sliding over your cheeks as you feel yourself finally release, squirting all over his arm.
“That’s a good fucking girl, fuck yeah.” Dabi praises you with lustful pride, rubbing his fingers back and forth over your filthy cunt that continues to spasm, nearly gaping as even more of your secretions cascade from your slit. You’re gasping and shaking, unable to speak as you down shallow breaths of air into your deprived lungs, swarmed with numbing repose. He gives your pussy a few peppered taps before wiping his face of anything that had made it there.
“‘M s-sor-ry-“ you can barely speak, your thighs tremoring as they fall flat, so hazy in the afterglow of your orgasm that you barely perceive the palms that close around your waist to flip you onto your stomach.
You emit a string of paltry, exasperated mumbles as Dabi’s rough palms briefly clutch your hips to bring your perfect ass higher, giving it a few assuring slaps.
“Oh my god, you little whore,” he exhales in astonishment, one hand over your cheek, pulling it apart to expose your slimy, twitching hole, “look at that...”
“N-No…pl-please no m-more…” Your cries go unheard when an ache surges throughout your neck as Tomura tangles four fingers tightly into your scalp and tugs your attention back towards him, undoing his pants in front of your pouting, teary face.
Dabi seems more concerned with spreading your glossy, bloated folds to rub your sensitive, now overstimulated clit, marveling at the way you writhe for him.
He lets his pants and belt hang lowly off of his hips, laying his cock flush against your ass.
"You ready to take this dick, baby?” He asks you as if he cared about your answer at all, tapping you with his girth as you spring away from the frigid bite of steel on your pliable flesh. Did this fucker have piercings everywhere?
You whimper softly with the need to brace yourself for what’s to come, reaching out to grab the fabric of Tomura’s hoodie, desperate for some shred of consolation.
The moment calms you but it fares to be too close, too tender, too sentimental. He wasn't here to offer commiseration, you were nothing more than a hole for them to fuck.
“C’mon, make yourself useful.” Tomura grunts, letting four gaunt fingers abruptly close around your wrist, guiding your hand instead to the evident bulge seething inches from your nose. You can feel how hard he is as you warily brush your fingers back and forth over his groin, raging with impatience and aggressive with the need to feel your soft little mouth wrapped around him. He grows tired of waiting for you to take initiative, reaching hastily into his unzipped pants to reveal his hardened dick, slapping your cheek with it until you part your lips.
All the while, you’re not prepared for the way Dabi’s begins to ease his way into your cunt.
“Fuuuck-“ He stills inside of you with a thick groan once he’s managed to work himself all the way in, struggling to keep his own composure while you bury your face into Tomura's skin, fresh tears burning behind your clenched eyes.
You’re unable to hold back your gulps of pain as you feel his length wholly penetrating you the moment he retracts and slips right back in, just as deep, just as excruciating.
“She cryin’?” Dabi’s voice comes, a hint of amusement present in his tone that torments you further.
“H-Hurts…pl-please s-stop,” you desperately cling onto Tomura's hoodie for some relief, but he’s less tolerant of your façade and he’s sick of hearing you whine like a little bitch.
“Fucking Christ, do you ever shut up?” He seizes the golden opportunity when your lips part again to press his cock into the back of your throat, forcing you to look up at him as he grabs you by the hair.
You should be grateful that you were getting such special treatment, next time he’ll make sure to just kill you first. His harsh words do nothing to relax you and you inadvertently gag as you try to rear back for a breath of air. Dabi gives you the fleeting satisfaction of letting you wriggle back against him before grabbing your wrists effortlessly and pinning them to your lower back, giving Tomura full control over your face while immobilizing you for himself.
“Open wider...wider...” Tomura enjoins you, squeezing your jaw with four fingers until it’s agape enough for his cock to push past the barrier of your tonsils. “That's it, all the way…” He doesn’t seem to mind the way you’re wrenching around, throwing his head back with a guttural sound of mitigation when you choke particularly hard. He’s not as thick as the brute in your ovaries, which you should be thankful for, but his actions make up for it and you’re failing to keep up.
Tomura cants his slender hips up into your face with more dominance, intoxicated with the wet heat of your throat around his girth as you make a pathetic attempt to breathe through your nose. Dabi pulls himself a little ways out to scrutinize the sea of arousal you leave behind on his lower half, letting go of your arms to grab your hips instead as he thrusts back into you over and over, deeper and harder.
“How's that feel? Fuck— ah, see…I knew you’d like it.” His vile accusation disgusts you, and yet you can’t stop your hips from bouncing back to synchronize with his rhythm, forcing him deeper as he hits your G-Spot just right.
You moan repeatedly around the stiff muscle lodged down your throat, trying your hardest to appease Tomura even as you’re trying to come, too. He seems content for now, letting you take control as your lips close acceptedly around his hilt, bobbing your head up and down until you're slavering onto his pants and wetting the fabric around the space that his dick surfaces from.
“Shit...” His voice grows more raspy and you feel yourself convulse anew around the length that’s stretching you so deliciously, fully immersed into the rabbit hole that was your night.
A brusque slap to your ass makes you jump, and Dabi appreciates the way it ripples before he places his hands alongside one another to spread it apart, sighing at the way your pussy grips him like a vice.
“Fuck- that’s it. Takin’ my dick so good…keep going…” He utters through his pleasure, snatching your slouching hips up to meet his. You’re caught in a whirlwind of hot, inexplicable passion, letting your ass work back and forth on his length while you wrap your fingers around the base of Tomura’s cock for more leverage. Your head slides up and down easily on his slick shaft, your moans swallowed with his length each time he penetrates your throat.
“Yess—that’s a good girl…you’re such a good girl…” Dabi commends you softly, hissing through his teeth as he watches you fuck yourself onto him, giving you another few swats. Your body feels so hot, with your greedy cunt devouring his dick just right and the round peach of your bottom squishing back into him with each rebound of your hips.
Unexpectedly, he takes you by the waist again and drives his dick deep inside of you with a long groan, propping one foot up on the edge of the couch as his thrusts take on a new, rapid momentum. You’re unable to contain yourself this time, letting Tomura’s dick pop free from your puckered lips to moan aloud.
“Ah—! Ah, omm, ah, nngh—“ You spring forward in time with the impel of his hips, unable to contain the second orgasm electrifying inside of you.
“Stick your tongue out,” Tomura reels you back in with a throaty command, tapping your face a few times with his head as you wince, but you obey him with little hesitation and he sneers, “keep it out, look at me...”
You blink up at him with glazed, confused, helpless little eyes, moaning languidly, drooling fortuitously while Dabi rails you from behind, letting his balls slap noisily against your clit. Tomura takes a moment to relish in your crude semblance, his lengthy dick inches from your outstretched tongue that you’re trying so hard to hold out as you sway forward.
“Little slut...you like taking two cocks at once?” His raspy voice grates your eardrums, every hair on your body rising as you nod blissfully. “‘Course you do, look at you,” he paps his tip on your slabbering tongue, smearing his pre-cum around, "fucking filthy. Put it back in your mouth."
With the best of your ability to combat your gag reflex, you gorge yourself on his length in long slurps again, reaching your hand slowly into his pants until you could locate the tight expanse of his balls.
“Fuck yeah—“ He curses huskily under his breath at your wandering fingers and the warmth of your mouth that sheathes his dick. His libidinous demeanor has your little hole contracting around Dabi, who has to still to collect himself.
“Keep squeezing me like that and I might not pull out.” He warns you with a chuckle yet something in his tone shifts when he continues, “That’s what you want though, don’t you? You want my fucking cum?”
His words should scare you half to death but all they do is make you wetter, bring you closer to your tipping point as you envision how it would feel, nodding in agreement at the twisted implication. You’re convinced that you’ve lost it completely, absorbed with the passionate thrill to please and be pleased.
You feel the piercings along Dabi’s girth knead your walls as he draws back almost completely, breathing heavily through his nose as he re-enters you, slowing his acceleration to drink in the way your opening expands tautly around his cock. Metal scrapes your stomach as he reaches underneath you to play with your clit while he proceeds to tease you with deep, slow strokes. As badly as you deplore his unforeseen objective to make you come for a second time, you can't escape the rush of pleasure that's imploding through your insides each time his tip glides across your G-spot, subjecting you to feel it all.
You're losing control over your ecstatic, muffled whimpers, but Tomura seems to be particularly fond of you doing so with his dick stuffed down your throat. “Good girl, finally doing something right.” Scratchy, reassuring words of praise were fuel to your fire and in an instant, your cunt gushes uncontrollably around the thick cock it clings to, soaking the floor and spraying part of Dabi’s lower half.
"Fucking shit," he wrenches himself from your sopping pussy, slapping your ass cheeks hard with the palm of his hand as you sob graciously in unsolicited pleasure.
You've barely finished shaking before you're navigated to lay flat on your back with your head suspended from the armrest of the couch. Your aching hole has hardly recovered before Dabi is crushing you into a mating press and plunging his glistening cock back into your body, forcing you to take him as deep as he pleases even if it hurts you now.
“Only fucking sluts squirt like that.”
You hear him say but you don’t know if he’s talking to you or Tomura, who traps you between his pelvis and the couch, keeping four fingers pressed against your throat as he slides his length between the two cushions of your lips. You flounder in objection when he’s slid through them halfway. Your air way tightens immensely in this new arrangement, but you can’t do much to squirm away; you're folded like a pretzel, merely a fuck toy to use and abuse with little regard for your position.
He drills his cock crudely into your skull, keeping you still at all times with a palm on your throat as your swollen eyes blink rapidly while you convulse, the disgusting glug of your throat muscles resounding throughout the room.
“Fuck, take it all...you can breathe when I come.” Tomura sighs, much to your dismay while globs of saliva escape from the corners of your mouth, falling across your eyes and nose, sticking in your hair. Every aching breath you attempt to swallow as he retracts is only full of more slobber and you dig your nails into his thighs in a single, futile endeavor to lessen his pace.
Dabi’s impetus becomes more sporadic as he watches himself fuck your overstimulated, puffy cunt, focused on the way your tits bounce. The unchaste noises your throat makes every time his boss rams back into your face and the way your walls constrict with each keck is ungodly, the coil in his abdomen unwinding each time his balls swing heavily against your sloppy cunt.
“Ah—fuck,” His voice cracks as the exhilaration tingles in his fingertips. You gag once more and that's all it takes, he's sliding his hands underneath your ass to move you closer with each violent propel of his hips, breathing ruggedly with determination. “I’m gonna fucking come…oh—shit, I’m gonna come in your tight little pussy- just like that, baby, here it comes, here it comes—fuck—“
It’s too late for you to say no. Sweat glistens on every inch of his body, pieces of hair stuck to his temples as he takes one final look at your poor little cunt gripping onto him for dear life before tilting his head back and stilling deep inside of you. His hot seed bursts forth explosively, coating every crevice of your fertile womb, scalding you with his quirk in the process. He fucks himself through his climax with debilitated, irregular jabs, leaning down until you feel his harsh breaths fanning over your chest.
Above you, Tomura follows suit, increasingly more erratic as his grip on your neck tightens. Your eyes bulge with the realization that you're going to suffocate, and your fight or flight response stirs to life before you feel him still altogether. Adrenaline surges through you as you listen to him grunt and curse under his breath, strangling you with the load that he's spraying down your throat.
The weight of Dabi’s chest is lifted from yours the moment you're on the verge of blacking out, and you turn posthaste on your side to cough laboriously as your throat re-opens. Mucus-like clumps of semen and spittle scatter the floor that's long been sullied with your fluids and you’re plagued with the exhort to vomit but you will yourself otherwise, too afraid to suffer anymore repercussions. The remainder of his seed slides off of your chin as you lay motionless, your breasts heaving.
The force of your hacking sends the cum nestled inside of you on its way out of your exploited hole, dripping with the consistency of egg whites, soiling the leather beneath you.
The red of Tomura’s shoes disappear from your line of sight and you lift your head weakly to cast a nervous glance behind you, praying to whatever was keeping you alive thus far that it was finally over. You're wheezing and breathless, the urge to cough again inevitably sending bile up from your stomach, but this time you don't bother holding back. You can barely make out the vicinity, let alone hear the words they exchange between each other while cleaning themselves of your mess and re-dressing.
You don’t have the strength to ask what was going to happen next, if this was how you died, so you chalk it up to fate and close your eyes, letting yourself doze into an uneasy quietness. After all was said and done, you wouldn’t be completely opposed to the idea of letting them kill you. At least it would save you from a lifetime of having to live with this occurrence for the rest of your life.
But your eyes snap open again to the feeling of something shrouding your naked, trembling limbs, rattled and overextended as you open your mouth to yelp.
“What, you scared of a blanket?” Dabi’s voice resonates more clearly in your ears, free of the bestial overtone that you'd grown accustomed to hearing, and you relax.
You're too exhausted to react or question what he was doing, so you lay there and accept what little compassion you're receiving after being dragged through the inferno.
The stranger in the black hoodie is nowhere to be found and you wonder how long you were out of commission to not even register that he’d left. It doesn't matter either way, and you allow yourself to burrow into the safety of the covering you're blanketed in, thoroughly spent.
Dabi's fingers wipe the foul residue of cum, saliva, and tears from your face. The action feels oddly personal, and when all is said and done, you have to quell the urge to ask him to stay. Alternatively, he leaves you with an offhand pat to your messy head and a piece of advice:
"Watch your drink next time."