#yandere Touya todoroki

[disaster-writer]

Tear You Apart

Pairing: Dabi x Reader

Summary: Someone in the League of Villains has been drugging you and doing things to you, and you were going to find out who

Word Count: 6.5k

Rating: X 18+

Warnings: Dark fic, smut, noncon, dubcon, masochism, sadism, drugging, mentions of exhibitionism/vouyerism

Minors DNI

There was a cockroach on your bedroom floor.

Your bedroom that was technically a small storage room with only a small futon and a lamp.

It was staring at you.

So you stared back, as your tired eyes tried to adjust to the blurry cockroach that sat no more than five inches from your face as you lay in bed.

You felt like you were hit by a truck.

The cockroach glowed in the sunlight that filtered into the room… you were lucky enough to end up with a window at least. Even if the moonlight never did reach far enough into the far corner of the room, leaving your imagination to run rampant in the middle of the night as to what lay within those shadows.

Though, you don’t think your imagination held a light to your reality now.

The room was spinning, you had to keep adjusting your eyes to the disgusting insect in front of you.

You pulled your bedsheet back ever so slightly, your arm broke through the cocoon of blankets you had wrapped yourself in. Slowly you reached your arm out, pointer finger outstretched, and neared the bug. 

You touched it.

Almost immediately the fucking thing scurried, flipped, and chirped over and over again, running rampant all over the floor. Until after what would be an angonizingly long two minutes for the insect, it died.

Each organ shut down one by one, its little body physically unable to function with the amount of pain a single stroke of your finger caused it.

You pulled your arm back into your cocoon and you stared at the dead cockroach.

You don’t remember taking off your gloves last night. That went for the hoodie you always wore to bed… that went for your pants… that went for your underwear.

You also don’t remember drinking anything last night.

But you were hungover.

Your head wouldn’t stop spinning, you felt like you were going to throw up, and everything just fucking hurt. But the general soreness from the hangover didn’t overshadow the burning, throbbing pain that came from between your legs.

Which meant it had happened again.

You felt your eyes watering, burning tears stinging at your tear ducts.

The first time you tried to chalk it up to falling into bad habits again.

Getting black out drunk was no stranger to you. It had always been easier to turn to the bottle than learn how to control your quirk. It dulled your senses, lessened the harm you could inflict, made you forget what it was to be an outcast of society.

It was safer for everyone that way.

But ever since the broker found you, selling you sweet visions of the future. A future you could help fight for by teaming up with the League of Villains. You had fallen hook, line, and sinker. You quit your vices.

But even if you had decided to drink the night away, that didn’t explain the blood and what you could only assume was dried cum that caked the inside of your thighs.

It was even on your face and in your hair.

That’s what had sent you reeling.

No man, woman, animal, or insect could touch you without immediately doubling over to writhe in pain.

So who the fuck managed to put their cock in you.

You had been so caught up in the how that you never stopped to think about the who until now.

You didn’t want to think of the only logical explanation.

One of your comrades was drugging you and raping you in the middle of the night and now that it’s happened twice, there’s no denying it. No more denying what was clearly in front of you no matter how fucking insane or impossible it should have been.

A choked sob clawed at your dry throat.

Joining this ragtag team of villains was the only thing that ever gave you a sense of purpose in your waste of a life. 

You had nothing.

A father that blamed you for your mother’s death. Telling you that all the unending pain you caused her was the reason she put that gun in her mouth. Out on the streets by fifteen, left to mug people with your quirk just to get by. Getting caught by heroes left and right left you with a criminal record. Alcohol had been your only sense of comfort.

You couldn’t leave the League. You can’t go back to that life.

You don’t know how long you laid in bed covered in those dried fluids and waiting for the world to stop spinning, all you knew was that the sun was setting by the time you forced yourself up and your bladder was fucking killing you.

You extracted your naked body from your cocoon, side stepping the dead roach to gather your clothes from last night that were scattered everywhere.

You pulled your thick black hoodie over your head and your black sweatpants up, hiding the blood and cum so that you could properly take care of it in the bathroom. 

You put your gloves on and pulled your hood up and left the room.

~

“She’s alive! No she isn’t!” Was the first thing that greeted you when you had left the bathroom.

”Hey Twice,” you mumbled, trudging past him and to the bar. You sat down.

Sitting hurt.

You barely looked around the room. You didn’t have to see to know that the entirety of the League was hanging out in that bar. These days it seemed you all were just sitting on your asses and twiddling your thumbs, waiting for the opportunity to make a move.

”Would you like a drink?”

You looked up tiredly to Kurogiri who stood behind the bar and shook your head, the amount of sugar in the mocktail you had Kurogiri make for you sometimes would probably make your pounding headache worse, “Water’s fine.”

You folded your arms on the bar counter and buried your face into them.

You didn’t want to be here with any of them right now but going back to your bedroom with those disgusting stains all over your futon also made you sick.

Either way you were trapped.

You didn’t mind the idle chatter from the others though. You could hear Mr. Compress and Spinner talking behind you in the booth. Twice was on the floor with Toga and from the sounds of it was playing around with his quirk and random items from the bar. Kurogiri talked to Shigaraki to your right of the counter and to your left was a normally brooding Dabi.

One of them had raped you.

You heard a ‘clink’ next to your folded arms, and found Kurogiri placing your water in front of you.

”Thanks,” you mumbled, grasping and raising the glass to your dry lips.

You gulped down the water quickly, draining the glass. You were so, extremely dehydrated.

Placing your glass down you looked to the side, only to find Shigaraki staring at you from behind ‘Father’s’ hand.

Shigaraki always fucking stared.

’The fucking virgin just wants to fuck you. Probably wants to see how long he’d last before you make his dick fall off’

That’s what Dabi had told you after watching you shift uncomfortably in your seat under his unwavering gaze your first night there.

You couldn’t deny he was suspect number 1 on your list.

You pulled the drawstrings of your hood, putting your head back down.

”Where were you this morning. We had a meeting.” 

Fuck— now he was talking to you.

”I had a rough morning,” is what you replied with, words muffled by the fabric of your hoodie.

Your heart beat picked up, beginning to hammer in your ribcage as you heard him stand up.

He was moving closer, sitting himself in the seat next to yours.

He had said nothing for a few long beats and the uncomfortable proximity of his body to yours made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

”Someone was in your room last night.”  

It felt like the air was knocked out of you. 

You slowly peered up at him through your hood, finding Shigaraki watching in sick satisfaction as if he just caught you red handed.

The accusation hung heavily in the air as you tried to find the words. Was he self admitting? Or did he see something? Did he know who it was?

But he continued before you could respond.

”You told us no one could touch you without your quirk activating but you’re fucking all night and missing meetings in the morning. You lied to us.”

“No—“ you blurted, perhaps slightly too loud. You leaned in closer, “I—I don’t— it’s not my fault,” you panicked, “I don’t know what’s happening— I would never lie to you about something like that, please. The League is all I have.”

He eyed you and the tears that brimmed in your eyes. His scrutinizing gaze unwavering from your face as he decided whether or not to believe your words. 

“Fine,” he muttered.

”Do… do you know who it was?” You asked softly, still not completely sure it still wasn’t him to begin with, but if it wasn’t and he did know…

”You don’t know?” He asked, suddenly starting to scratch at his neck.

”No.” you replied, quickly wiping a tear that fell.

He was about to say something when someone cut in.

”Would you just leave the crybaby alone.”

Dabi.

“I’m not a crybaby,” you muttered, finally leaning away from Shigaraki, barely sparing Dabi a glance. 

Shigaraki started scratching with his other hand now, which meant Kurogiri was near, ready to talk him down from whatever ledge he was currently walking on.

”Yeah, sure,” he remarked sarcastically.

You should just go back to your room. You don’t think you can handle talking to someone else that could possibly be violating you.

Unlike Shigaraki, Dabi barely spared you a glance and rarely talked to you. And although he seemed to be more mentally there than some of your other teammates, you wouldn’t put it past him to hurt you.

He still had a cock after all.

Kurogiri refilled your glass.

”Thanks,” you muttered again, taking a sip.

This was too much. Too suffocating. You needed to be alone even if that meant seeing those stains on your bed.

You stood back up, taking your water with you.

”I’m going back to bed.”

With that, you left the room ignoring the stares and the ‘boos’ that followed after you from Toga for leaving so early.

You’d work with them but for now, they couldn’t be your friends.

Not until you found out which of those fuckers had touched you.

-

You isolated yourself after that.

You went through the motions. You did what you were supposed to. You did the quirk training Shigaraki’s master required of you. You went to the meetings. You tried finding new recruits now and then.

But you stopped hanging out with the others and you only spoke to them if it had to do with business with the League.

Toga and Twice seemed to be the most broken up about it, you had been the closest with those two prior to everything.

But the more you were left with your own thoughts the more everyone became a suspect.

Even Toga. She was a shapeshifter and even if it was unlikely, the fact that she even had the ability to transform into the others set you on edge.

And what if Twice was making clones. You knew he didn’t make clones of himself but what if he made that one exception. Or what if he made a clone of one of the others without them knowing and the clone was the one that raped you and Twice killed it after so not even a real person attacked you and you’re just losing your mind in front of everyone and they have no clue as to why-

‘What if, What if, What if’

You were losing your fucking mind.

You weren’t really even sleeping at night, three hours at most. You were too scared someone was going to sneak in. Whoever it was was clearly somewhat resistant to your quirk and your only line of defense you ever relied on was useless.

But you also refused to leave. You had run from every one of your problems your entire life. You weren’t about to do that here. You needed this— a purpose for your life. Hope for a better future.

You needed a plan.

You needed to figure out who was hurting you. How they were drugging you. How they were touching you.

You had just as much of a right to be here as the rest of them and you weren’t going to be trapped in fear.

You just needed a plan.

~

Dabi sat at the end of the bar, off in his own little world, away from the others and their bonding. Away from their talks about nothing that wouldn’t matter in the end anyway. 

It had been another fucking useless day, just a bunch of “villains” sitting around and hanging out.

His own efforts have proven fruitless, everyone out there was trash and finding new recruits was becoming harder and harder to find with each day.

Cyan eyes glanced at the group, some holding careless smiles and laughing, others brooding in their own little minds as well.

They were all there except you.

You hadn’t around them much these days but slowly and surely you had been coming out of your room more and more again. 

It seemed like you were starting to let your guard down again.

But right now you were busy in that old warehouse the League found for you to quirk train. 

Your training in particular was a cruel affair that he’s had the privilege of sitting in on once or twice.

It was more torture than anything else. Trying to see just how much pain you could inflict on unwitting strangers that had been swept off the streets for that reason and that reason alone.

He couldn’t be sure if you enjoyed it or not. Your face always passive and indecipherable in those moments. But you’d do it anyway. You did whatever ‘ol crusty and his master asked of you.

It pissed him off how willingly you followed after that fucking virgin.

It also pissed him off seeing how much Shigaraki enjoyed that.

Dabi sighed, raising his glass to his lips and taking a swig of the drink.

You’d be back any minute now and you’d be tired, exhausted even.

Maybe you’d want to have a quick drink with the others before heading to bed.

His jaw tensed at the thought and he drained the rest of his glass.

Or maybe you’d go straight to hiding in your room again. Barely sparing a glance or a few words with anyone.

Fuck.

He may have overdone it last time. 

But the sight of you beneath him, his hands spreading your thighs wide open, watching his cock thrusting in and out of your tight little cunt— each barbell pierced into his cock disappearing and reappearing one by one while you babbled whatever came to your inebriated mind, tits jolting with every thrust— it was too much. And Fuck— the way it hurt, every nerve ending a live fucking wire—

”Hey guys,” you mumbled tiredly.

He didn’t even hear the door open.

The others greeted you as he watched you approach them in his peripherals. Some greetings more animated than others, in Toga’s and Twice’s case specifically.

”How was quirk training!?” Toga asked with a toothy grin.

”Fine,” you mumbled, taking a seat at the bar next to Compress.

”Would you like a drink?” Kurogiri asked per routine.

”Yeah, surprise me. Just no alcohol,” you nodded, making Toga cheer, happy to see you spending time with them again. “Don’t get too excited. ‘M not staying up for long, I have more quirk training tomorrow morning so I’m going to bed after this one.”

”Aw boo—,” she grumbled. “No fun.”

”Hey, how’s the gun feel by the way?” Spinner asked.

”Still getting the hang of it, but it feels good. Thanks again.”

”Yeah, no problem.”

The conversation shifted as Twice started telling stories of his more adventurous exploits when he was younger. And there was Shigaraki eye fucking you again.

Dabi watched from the corner of his eye as Kurogiri made your drink.

Weeks had passed since that last time he visited you. Kurogiri had made you only four drinks since then.

And Dabi watched patiently as he poured in each ingredient.

But it was tonight that he used the pineapple juice.

You were the only one in the League that drank the pineapple juice.

He watched him place the glass down in front of you. 

He watched you take a sip.

A grin pulled on the corners of his mouth.

From here on out all he needed to do was wait. And Dabi was nothing if not patient. He had to wait for you to finish the drink, wait to hear you tell everyone you were tired and going to bed, and finally wait as each and every member of the League turned in for the night.

Usually by the time he could sneak into your room you were peacefully asleep. Never expecting Dabi to rouse you from your sleep, surprise taking your features every time.

Tonight was no different.

Just like clockwork you were the first to retreat to your room for the night… but not before draining your glass.

Fuck— he was getting excited.

One by one, each of his comrades decided to call it a night.

First Shigaraki and Kurogiri, then Compress, then Toga, Twice, Spinner…

And that made one.

Dabi cleared his throat, choking back the excited giggle that threatened to escape and climbed to his feet.

It had been too fucking long since he’s been able to indulge like this. With not much else to do these days he had been left with his own imagination and hand for too long.

Like a moth to a flame he found himself at your door, silently pushing it open and slipping inside.

His eyes nearly glowed in the dimly lit room as they landed on your curled up figure, laid peacefully on your futon, fast asleep.

Moonlight was the only thing to illuminate the room.

His cock throbbed, it was painfully hard as it had been for almost an hour now, precum smearing his boxers no doubt.

He palmed himself through his pants as he walked towards your peaceful form, pretty face becoming clearer the closer he got and the more his eyes adjusted to the lighting.

Unceremoniously, he collapsed to the floor, sitting down in front of you, no more than five inches from you. He watched your chest rise and fall with each of your breaths.

Carefully, he picked up a lock of hair and tugged.

You stirred but were far too drugged to wake up from the action.

He dropped the lock, fingertips now reaching for your face— your cheekbone, gently brushing them along your warm skin.

His breath hitched, little electrical shocks started in his fingers and danced up the length of his arm.

”Fuck, got my fucking cock throbbing, crybaby” he panted huskily, “Time to open those pretty eyes of yours now,” he said, giving your shoulder a shake.

“Hmm,” you whined.

”Wake up,” he said again, a harder shake this time.

You blinked your eyes open just slightly, before shutting them again.

You gave a confused hum, “Dabi?” You mumbled.

”That’s right crybaby.”

”What’re—why,” you slurred together.

He pushed your shoulder back— you were so pliant that he was able to effortlessly maneuver you onto your back.

You continued to mumble, trying to make sense in your drug addled mind as to why Dabi was in your room. All the while he was climbing onto the mattress and spreading your thighs as he settled between them. He tugged you down slightly, hooking your legs over his hips and pressing his clothed cock against you.

”Miss me crybaby? I’ve sure missed you,” he grinned, grabbing your gloved hand in his own and guiding it towards the tent in his pants, “See.” He exhaled breathily, using your hand to grasp his cock.

You tried opening your eyes again, waking up a bit more.

”Wha’s happenin’” you murmured, fingers wiggling in his hold as you tried shifting beneath him.

He only hummed, saying nothing as he lifted your hand up. He grasped the middle finger of your glove and pulled.

And just like every other time, your eyes shot open.

”No,” you whined.

”Yes,” he hissed back, pulling your glove completely off and discarding it to the side.

”Can’t touch,” you pulled your hand back and he let you cradle it to your chest. Instead shrugging his jacket off and pulling his shirt off before tossing them with your glove.

”Yes you can,” he grabbed your wrist, placing your hand on his abdomen.

Specifically on the deep purple scars.

Pain radiated from the surface of skin you touched, deep into the tissue. A shockwave of hurt burst from the center of his body, outwards.

His head fell back as a guttural groan clawed its way from his throat.

He ground his cock into you as wave after wave of pain wracked his body.

It was then that your sobs reached his ears.

He dropped your hand but the pain lingered blissfully, though it was dull.

“Fuck.”

The first touch was always the best. 

He grinned as he gazed at your tear stricken face.

”Let’s get you out of this,” he said, tugging your hoodie up.

You struggled but were too weak to stop him, every muscle in your body relaxed from the drugs.

You babbled nonsense, he didn’t even bother to try to make sense of what you were saying, just like every time before. Besides, the blood rushing in his ears was distracting anyway. 

You had no bra on, making his fingers move to the button of your jeans, fumbling with it as he eyed your tits heaving up and down with each of your breaths. He finally yanked them off your legs, along with your panties.

“Why are— does it hurt?” You continued to mumble, “How.”

“Hah—“ A laugh escaped Dabi. Tonight you seemed more concerned about hurting him rather than him stripping you down naked and getting ready to fuck you. “Wanna remember how good I can make you feel?” He asked, fingers now finding your wet cunt, stroking between your folds. That familiar, irresistible pain resumed in his hand as he pet you.

You gasped and wriggled, trying to move up the bed and get away, but the new grip on your hip prevented you from doing so.

Dabi’s head was reeling, pain and pleasure clouded his mind.

You were the only fucking girl that set his nerves ablaze in such a way. If it wasn’t for his vengeance set in a different, higher place he thinks he would never leave the bedroom with you.

Two fingers pressed into your cunt and slid in, making you squeal.

”Dabi no—“ you sobbed, continuing to wriggle in vain. “Why—“

“Shh,” he hushed, “Don’t think, just feel,” his thumb found your clit and rubbed tight little circles into it.

”Stop— I never— I’mma virgin.“

He barked out another laugh.

”You haven’t been a virgin for over a month now crybaby.”

You whimpered and cried, turning your head into your pillow as your voice became higher and higher pitched the longer this went on.

His free hand stroked your body, feeling the curve of your hips and the dip in your waist before gripping your breast. He then dived for the other, latching his lips around your nipple, pain sparking in his lips and tongue and the parts of his chest that brushed against you.

He continued to suck and tug on your nipples as his other hand continued to work you between your legs.

”Why, why, why—“ you cried, “Dabi why.”

”Because you’re mine you fucking idiot— now cum already.” He growled against your breast.

Your back arched as if his voice held any actual authority, and you came. Tears streaking your face with each spasm of your cunt.

When you came back down to earth you were a shivering, sniveling mess.

”See,” he sighed, “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?”

You sniffled, keeping your eyes squeezed shut.

”None of that,” he pulled the hand from between your legs and cupped your face, fingers digging into your cheeks as he smeared your fluids against your face. “No pretending you’re somewhere else. Open your eyes.” You blinked them open slowly, “Good.” He hummed, smacking your cheek lightly and sitting back up.

The pain you inflicted had finally turned into a duller thrum throughout his body. 

Meaning he had to fuck you now for his next fix.

He sucked your sticky wetness from his fingers before undoing his belt then his jeans.

He pulled his cock out, the feeling of it brushing against you making you inch away.

”See that baby?” He grunted, tilting his head back as he stroked his cock and cupped his balls, “You’ve got me so fucking pent up. Makin’ me wait almost an entire month.” He looked back down to you, eyeing you up like an animal. “Ready for my cock crybaby~” he taunted.

The words had fresh tears spilling down your cheeks.

”I’ll take that as a yes.”

He tugged you down by the hips, cock nestling between your folds. He gasped out and jolted at the sensation in his cock. 

There was no separation of the pain and pleasure you inflicted on him. It was one. Indivisible. 

And so much better than anyone else could ever offer.

He gripped his cock and lined it up at your entrance, heart beating rapidly against his ribcage.

His breathing came out hard and laborious, chest rising and falling dramatically as he psyched himself up to push into you.

That initial thrust would have him cumming. It did every time.

Fingers bit into your hips.

“1…” he growled, “2…” he shut his eyes.

”3.” Said the voice behind his ear.

Dabi’s eyes snapped open in time to see the bullet lodge itself between your eyes.

Your dead body turned to sludge, melting beneath him.

His ears rang as the unmistakable feel of a barrel of a gun pressed itself against the back of his head.

You held the gun, standing over Dabi’s kneeling figure.

As the ringing died in both yours and Dabi’s ears, the deafening silence became louder.

Bile crawled up the back of your throat as you looked over his shoulder.

His cock was still hard.

You cocked the gun, the little ‘click’ shattering the silence.

He sighed, shoulders slumping as he pushed his head back, leaning into the gun’s barrel.

”Maybe…” his raspy voice started, “I underestimated you.”

”I could kill you,” you replied coolly, “I should kill you.”

”But you won’t. I’m a pretty big player in all this League of Villains shit and you know that,” he started turning slowly, looking over his shoulder, bathing his profile in a bluish moonlight and illuminating the sick grin he wore, “So what exactly’s the plan then? Huh, crybaby?”

He was taunting you.

You set your jaw tightly and genuinely thought about pulling the trigger.

The nickname made you sick. You thought he was just being an asshole to you in the bar a few weeks ago when he called you that… you wouldn’t have thought it was a twisted little nickname he gave you after assaulting you.

”I want to talk.”

He scoffed, turning around, gazing up at you as he sat leisurely on your futon. He didn’t even bother to tuck his cock back into his pants. “I didn’t come in here to talk.”

”But that’s exactly what’s going to happen asshole or I’m going to tell Shigaraki—“

”He already knows crybaby. He watched.”

You faltered, face completely falling, “He- he what?”

Dabi grinned maliciously at you, “I let him watch last time, especially since you were such a good girl for me the first time I stopped by, taking my cock so well. I figured since he has such a hard time keeping his eyes off you then I’d really give him something to look at.”

“So,” you began shakily, “When he was interrogating me at the bar for missing that meeting—“

”Oh he knew why. He had been jerkin’ it to you the entire night.”

Fuck— tears were starting to collect in your tear ducts.

You blinked quickly in an attempt to hold them back.

You were just so fucking weak. How was it that you found yourself in progressively worse situations your entire life.

Joining these guys was supposed to mean something.

”Why,” you swallowed, gun shaking in your hand, “I thought we were supposed to be teammates.”

”I’d argue that we’re more than that now,” the words felt sinister, making you grow sicker by the second, “Do you want to know what the first thing I thought when the broker introduced you?”

You stayed silent, you didn’t want to play into this little game of his.

”I thought ‘now what cruel motherfucker would make someone that looked like you but wasn’t allowed to be touched’? But then,” he leaned back on his hands, nearly presenting his cock to you, “Once I was balls deep in that tight little virgin cunt, and you were shaking and crying in my arms I realized that you were made for me. I am the only man in this world that can fuck you. Your cunt belongs to me.”

Shit, shit, shit

”Don’t feel too bad though. This isn’t a one way street. I’ve never had pussy that’s made me fucking shake before, and that’s all you crybaby. You’re the only one that can offer me the kind of pain and pleasure that makes me forget about every crappy thing in my life.”

He was getting in your fucking head. 

“You’re insane.” You muttered hoarsely, throat suddenly dry, gun shaking even more in your hands.

”Well, what sane man would want you?”

You don’t know what possessed you, the weeks of anxiety? All the pent up anger he had caused?

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. You threw the gun across your little room and lunged at Dabi.

He wanted to feel pain? Then you’d show him what actual pain feels like. 

Your inebriated body couldn’t access the full potential of your quirk.

And you hadn’t been quirk training for nothing.

You tackled him to the futon and landed in the muddy remnants of your clone, straddling his waist as you placed both your palms against his bare chest.

Dabi’s hand flew to your wrists as… as a groan left his throat. It wasn’t a scream or a wail, it wasn’t what you expected. And the pinch in his eyebrows was anything but anguish.

His palms were hot but he wasn’t using his quirk to push you away.

You had seen and heard looks of agony and suffering on people more than you’d care to admit, but this was not that.

You pushed against his chest harder, against the deep purple scars and seams of his body, digging your fingers into the stapled flesh and drawing blood.

”Fuck— that’s different,” he groaned out, “Why’s it different.”

”Why aren’t you in more pain,” you snapped, “I’ve made grown men kill themselves after only brushing against my arm just to end their suffering. What the fuck is wrong with you!” You screamed into his face.

He only moaned in response.

Which was when you had realized he had reached down when you weren’t paying attention. He reached between the gap where you had either leg on either side of his body and was fisting his cock. He was jerking himself off while you were hurting him.

A disillusioned laugh escaped your throat, broken and choppy.

This was absurd.

This went against everything you believed about your quirk while growing up.

That your entire identity surrounded the fact that you inflicted pain and everyone and anything would always see you as the villain because of that. You were meant to be avoided and feared, never wanted or desired.

You were losing your goddamned mind.

”You’re a fucking freak,” you suddenly laughed louder at the realization, watching him drag his fist over his cock, the metal barbells of his Jacob’s ladder glinting in the moonlight. “You walk around here all tough and moody, acting like you’re better than everyone else but you’re just as fucking crazy as the rest of them.”

“You’re just as sick,” he choked out with a laugh of his own, “Watching me playing with your clone. You listened to her cry and beg me to stop and you just watched.”

”Shut up,” you hissed. You knew it was wrong, you had promised her you’d stop him before he touched her inappropriately, but when he started you couldn’t bring yourself to end things. 

A twisted part of you wanted to watch and it made you fucking sick.

Just as what you did next made you sick.

You reached down between your legs and grabbed his cock yourself, pushing his own hand away.

He threw his head back, letting out an even louder groan. You could tell this one hurt more than the hand on his chest and it made you smile knowing he was in pain no matter how much pleasure he got from it.

You started jerking him off yourself, listening to his heaving grunts and groans with every stroke of your hand. You paid no mind to the piercings in his cock, if he liked the pain then he could deal with any snagging.

He started tugging on your shirt, pushing it up higher. His hands pawing at your body until one reached your bra, pushing it up to grab your tits.

Your mind felt like it was splitting. You didn’t want him to touch you but you didn’t want to stop him.

But the nail in the coffin was when he tangled a hand in the back of your hair and tugged you down.

He was kissing you.

He tasted like burnt flesh and cigarettes.

His tongue forced itself past your lips and brushed against your own in broad strokes.

You didn’t pull away, you only kissed him back with equal fervor, biting his lips and letting him stick his tongue as far back into your mouth as he wanted to.

You moaned into the kiss, a moan that had been swallowed by his mouth, sending a flutter of excitement in the pit of your stomach.

He broke the kiss. Glowing cyan eyes boring into yours, “Ride me crybaby.”

You sat up, pulling your hoodie over your head and quickly undoing your bra, throwing them to the side as Dabi pulled at your pants.

You smacked his hands away, standing up to work them down your legs yourself before landing on top of him again.

He hissed at the pain as you touched him with a newly exposed body.

You ignored him, grabbing his cock and lining it up at your entrance. You sunk down slowly, adjusting to the size and the feeling of the piercings entering you.

But it wasn’t fast enough for Dabi because he was grabbing at your hips and pulling you down forcefully onto his cock.

You shook and cried out from the pain, collapsing against his chest as you sucked in breath after breath.

But Dabi shook harder from underneath you, pained moans of your name leaving his lips. You watched in curiosity, ignoring your own throbbing pain from between your legs as he started panting, body going slack.

You started laughing, you were pretty sure the fucking freak just came, ”Did you just—?” 

”It’ll get hard again, just start fucking moving,” he grunted, grabbing at your hips.

So you did.

You had no idea what your were doing so you just did whatever felt good, and grinding your clit against his pubic hair felt really good.

The feeling of his cock getting hard inside you again made you dig your fingers into his stapled flesh once more, drawing more blood.

”Shit— ride me better,” he hissed.

”I don’t know how—“

“Shut up,” he spat, holding your hips in a bruising grip as he bent his knees to get some leverage and began to thrust into you from underneath.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped. You had never felt anything like this before.

The next second he was slipping his arms around your back and switching your positions, slipping out of you but you had barely any time to process it as he slammed back into you as he was now hunched over your body.

You yelped at the brutal pace he set, hips pounding against yours. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass and every piercing dragging in and out of you.

Your high pitched, breathy moans mixed with his own deeply pained and pleasured grunts. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and all the lewd wet noises that came with every thrust made you blush deeply.

Next he was yanking your leg up, hooking it over his elbow, allowing him to reach deeper inside you.

You threw your head back, “There,” you breathed out.

You were getting close and Dabi could tell by the clenching and unclenching of your cunt. He snaked a hand down and found your clit, rubbing tight circles into it.

“Cum crybaby, show me this cunt belongs to me.”

You fucking hated that nickname. And you hated his entitlement.

You wrapped your hands around his throat, listening to those pained noises that were starting to make your head spin.

He fucked into you even harder.

Everything went white. 

You were cumming and then he was cumming, the two of you shaking in each others arms.

He had slid out with a hiss, collapsing beside you, careful not to touch you.

You stared up at your ceiling, listening to his pants. You turned to look at him.

He really was shaking. 

You reached over and touched his chest, grinning at the now truly pained reaction you got.

He activated his quirk making you hiss and pull away, cradling your now burned hand to your chest.

It was quiet for a few beats.

”Why are you able to touch me?” You finally asked.

”The doctor that put me back together said my pain receptors are fucked.”

”Oh,” that actually… made a lot of sense.

You looked back to him again. Eyeing his profile, following the slope of his nose and the subtle pout of his mouth. You looked at his scars, how the deep purple skin was being held together to his healthy skin by staples. You stared at the swollen seams where the skin was connected.

You were beginning to think he had it wrong.

He was actually made for you.

-

Tear You Apart Prequel (Dabi x Reader x Shigaraki)

Deleted Scene

[yanderenightmare]

i saw this thing a while back that i thought you’d be able to write quite well. it was responses to darling saying “it hurts” but it gets meaner and meaner. love ur work 🦋

Todoroki Touya - Dabi

TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, hints of forced piercings, piercings in general

fem reader

Dabi doesn’t really need an excuse to be cruel to you. He just likes the way you sing his name – how it comes out in a sticky whine, filtered with hurt and something else, something sweet.

“Dabi, please – it hurts.”

“Yea? I bet~" He drawls with a simper. "You’re really tight when I don’t prep you.”

He's got a lazily loving expression on his face – looking down at you. Brows cinched, lips curled cutely up into a pretty pout – eyes wide with tears, pleading for any pity he might feel for you.

But mercy is a distant thing he doesn’t remember the taste of. So instead, he musters up some mockery of it and flicks your clit right above where he's skewered his fat ribbed self inside you.

He'd gotten some new piercings he wanted to try out – a ladder of pins running up the spine of his shaft – as well as a stud at the very tip that poked your cervix when he’d sunk all the way inside you.

“Please, Dabi – take it out,” You cried, twisting against the sheets – whole body worming for comfort – but no matter how you shifted, the thickness inside stayed stored all the way up to the hilt. His free hand pinning yours above your head as he pressed his hips flush against your ass.

“Come on, angel-tits~” He cooed with a toothy grin – sapphire eyes drunk while enjoying you, chittering at your whimpers while he kneaded himself inside the coziest depth of your cunt. “I got ’em for you~ least you can do is say thanks~”

He pinched your clit, and it tightened you up as he started rocking against you. Whistling at the grip, he chewed his lip in a smirk whilst pumping the wet out of you one deep thrust at a time.

“Actin’ so coy on me – but you’re fuckin’ soaked like always, angel…” 

Your whining turned to moaning, though still a little teary. Squealing when he dipped to suck your tit – running his tongue piercing over the pretty silver beads he’d given your nipples some while ago – making them so sensitive, so eager for the warmth of his mouth – having you all but coil your legs around his torso, pulling him as close as you could with hips stuttering – squeezing him tight in flutters. 

“Tch – would you look at that…” He scoffed lightly, face both amused and endeared, kissing your cheek as though in praise. “Looks like you like ‘em after all.”

You’re chagrinned beneath him, still with a few after-thrills simmering between your thighs, causing you to clench on him still.

He gave your pearl another swirl, pulling another whine from your throat. “Dabi-” But he caught it with his mouth, giving you his tongue with a groan while starting up his pace again – keeping his mouth locked on yours until he dumped his load in deep.

You cringed some at the warmth. You wished he’d use a condom – not that he’s ever bothered to, but you guess even the option is gone now that he’s all but armed his cock.

He gives you a goofy grin while looking down at you. Giddy from cumming. Still with two digits on your pearl.

The cheekiness in his eyes tells you he’s thinking about something – and something about it makes you not want to know what.

 “Maybe this little clitty is due some silver next, hm?”

[fangdokja]

You’re the light he vowed to keep, even if he has to snuff it out first.

❤︎ Synopsis. You’re trapped in the suffocating grip of a man who loves you just enough to destroy you—until you’re nothing but his broken, devoted possession. A love that feels more like a curse than a choice.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Pro Hero! Katsuki x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Pro Hero! Shouto x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Villain! Deku x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Dabi x Fem. Reader

♡ Headcanons. Ruined, Owned, Loved. - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 3,897

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non con kissing and touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats, mature language, degradation, verbal abuse, kidnapping

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

♡ Pro Hero! Bakugo Katsuki.

You knew better than to try running. The moment you felt his presence—a simmering furnace of fury and control—it was already too late. He didn’t announce his arrival with words; his footsteps were enough, sharp and deliberate, heavy boots hitting the floor like a countdown to something inevitable. Bakugo’s voice was never soft; it was a serrated edge, ripping through the air as if he had a right to every breath you took. And when he spoke, it wasn’t a question.

“Thought you could get away, huh?” His laugh was cruel, low, and full of condescension. “You’re dumber than I thought. But that’s fine. I like you stupid. Makes you easier to handle.”

His hands were everywhere—calloused, hot, burning like the aftermath of an explosion. You hated how they felt on your skin, hated the way your body betrayed you, trembling when he pressed you against the cold, unyielding surface of the wall. He’d whisper things in your ear, not because he cared, but because he wanted to hear you choke on your protests. He fed on resistance. It made him more determined, more ruthless, as if he needed to prove a point.

“You think anyone else could handle you? Take care of you? Fucking useless brat. I’m the only one who knows what you need.”

There was no romance in his touch, only dominance, a need to mark, to conquer. His lips were blistering against your neck, leaving bruises that would bloom dark and ugly—a reminder of his claim. He reveled in the small, broken noises you made, each gasp a sign of his victory. To Bakugo, love wasn’t soft. It was brutal, raw, and destructive. And you were the perfect canvas for his fire.

———

Bakugo Katsuki was never the kind of man to hold back. Even now, with the faint scent of charred air clinging to him and his gaze sharp enough to carve through steel, restraint was a foreign concept. He didn’t need to be gentle, didn’t care for the nuances of tenderness or quiet affection. His love was a volatile thing, violent and consuming, a wildfire that left nothing untouched. And you, unfortunate as you were, had become the fuel to his blaze.

“You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was a low growl, the kind that sent shivers down your spine for all the wrong reasons. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear, each word deliberate, dripping with venomous intent. “You’re mine. Every single part of you. That fucked-up little brain, those stupid tears, even the way you fucking breathe—you don’t get to decide any of it anymore. I do.”

His hands were unforgiving, each touch an assertion of control, as though he was daring your body to defy him. He wasn’t satisfied with merely holding you. He needed to own you, to etch himself into your very marrow, to ensure that every fleeting thought you had began and ended with him. Calloused fingers dug into your flesh, searing heat radiating off his palms like the embers of a smoldering fire. His grip wasn’t just tight—it was possessive, like he was claiming his place under your skin, branding you without the need for flames.

“You’re so fucking fragile,” he sneered, his lips curling into a smirk that held no kindness. “Can’t even put up a proper fight. What would you even do without me? Huh?”

There was something almost mocking in the way he spoke, but beneath it lay a darker truth: Bakugo didn’t just want you compliant—he wanted you broken, a hollowed-out shell with only his name to fill the emptiness. He thrived on the power he held over you, the way your trembling body responded to him no matter how much your mind screamed otherwise.

His kisses weren’t tender. They were bruising, feral, the kind that left you breathless for all the wrong reasons. Teeth scraped against your skin, leaving faint indentations that would fade just enough for him to replace them. His mouth trailed lower, each bite deliberate, as though he were carving himself into you with the edge of his teeth.

“Don’t bother crying,” he hissed, his voice sharp enough to draw blood. “Won’t do you any good. Just makes me want to ruin you more.”

There was no hesitation in his movements, no room for uncertainty. Bakugo wasn’t a man who second-guessed himself, especially not when it came to you. Every touch, every whispered insult, every moment was carefully calculated, designed to tear you apart and rebuild you in his image. To him, love was destruction, and the thought of anyone else laying claim to you was enough to send his temper spiraling out of control.

“If anyone even looks at you wrong, I’ll blow them to pieces,” he said, his tone deadly serious. “And you’ll watch. You’ll see exactly what happens when someone tries to take what’s mine.”

The threat wasn’t empty. You knew Bakugo meant every word, his rage barely contained, simmering beneath the surface like magma waiting to erupt. And yet, there was something disturbingly intimate in the way he held you, his grip firm but steady, as though he believed he was the only thing keeping you from falling apart completely.

“You’ll thank me one day,” he muttered, his voice softer now but no less menacing. “You’ll see that I’m the only one who gives a damn about you. The only one who’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

His idea of safety was suffocating, a cage made of fire and ash, but there was no escaping it. Bakugo Katsuki wasn’t a man who let go—not when he’d already decided that you were his, body and soul. And he’d make sure you understood that, even if it meant breaking you into pieces and putting you back together again, over and over, until the only thing you recognized was him.

────────────

♡ Pro Hero! Todoroki Shouto.

Shouto was a contradiction: ice and fire, tenderness and cruelty. When he stared at you, it wasn’t with love but with obsession, the kind that stripped you bare and left you exposed under his cold, calculating gaze. He was too quiet, his presence unnerving, his dual-colored eyes a predator’s trap. There was something unnervingly patient about him, as though he had all the time in the world to break you.

“You look so scared,” he murmured, voice soft enough to make your blood run cold. “But you don’t have to be. I’ll take care of you.”

His fingers were gloved, precise, as if he didn’t want to dirty himself with you. But when he touched you, it was deliberate, calculated, his hands mapping every inch of your body with clinical detachment. It wasn’t passion that drove him—it was control, the need to see you submit, to strip you of your autonomy until you were nothing but a doll for him to play with.

“You’re mine,” he said, his tone flat, matter-of-fact. “You’ll understand that soon enough.”

Shouto’s cruelty was subtle, wrapped in a veneer of kindness that made you second-guess your fear. But it was there, lurking beneath the surface, a monster waiting to strike. He didn’t raise his voice; he didn’t need to. His presence alone was enough to suffocate you. When he leaned in, his breath cold against your skin, you knew there was no escape.

———

Shouto Todoroki was meticulous in everything he did, and when it came to you, that precision was unnervingly intimate. He didn’t rush, didn’t let his emotions spill out in reckless waves like others might. No, Shouto was a slow, deliberate storm, his control more terrifying than any outburst could ever be. He didn’t need to shout or rage; his silence was its own weapon, slicing through you with a cold, surgical exactness that left no room for resistance.

“Do you hate me?” he asked once, his voice a quiet hum of curiosity. His mismatched eyes searched yours, not for an answer, but for the flicker of defiance he knew wouldn’t last. “It doesn’t matter. Hate me if you like. It changes nothing.”

His touch was clinical at first, his gloved fingers tracing your skin as though he were studying the way you flinched beneath him. It wasn’t lust that drove him, nor even anger—it was obsession, a need so deeply rooted it had consumed every rational part of him. Shouto didn’t see you as a person anymore, not entirely. You were a puzzle, a possession, something delicate and fragile that belonged to him alone.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured, his voice soothing despite the steel underneath. “Even if it means protecting you from yourself.”

There was a chilling detachment in the way he said it, as though your autonomy was a trivial obstacle he’d long since dismissed. Shouto wasn’t cruel for the sake of it; every act, every word, was deliberate, calculated to strip you of your defenses. He wanted you pliant, dependent, so deeply intertwined with him that the thought of leaving felt like an impossibility.

When he kissed you, it was neither tender nor rushed. His lips were cold, an eerie contrast to the heat that followed, a slow burn that made your skin prickle and your heart race. He took his time, savoring the way you trembled under his touch, the way your breath hitched when his hand slid to the nape of your neck. Shouto didn’t rush his conquest. He was patient, methodical, the predator who knew his prey had nowhere to run.

“You’re so warm,” he said, almost to himself, as his fingers traced idle patterns across your skin. “It’s comforting. I think I’d destroy anyone who tried to take this from me.”

His dual nature made him unpredictable, a constant tightrope between icy detachment and blistering intensity. There were moments when he’d cradle your face in his hands, his expression almost tender, as though he were something close to human. But even then, his words betrayed him.

“You can cry if you want,” he said, his tone soft, almost gentle. “I don’t mind. It only makes you prettier.”

He didn’t see your fear as an obstacle—it was part of the process, a necessary step in molding you into what he wanted. Your tears were proof of his power, a testament to the control he wielded with such terrifying ease. And when his hands roamed, when his lips found the sensitive curve of your neck, there was no escaping the suffocating weight of his presence.

Shouto’s love wasn’t fiery or wild; it was smothering, a glacier slowly encasing you until you couldn’t breathe without him. His cruelty was subtle, woven into the fabric of his obsession, a constant reminder that you were his and his alone.

“You’ll see,” he whispered, his breath a cold ghost against your ear. “This is what’s best for you. You’ll understand eventually. You’ll thank me.”

He didn’t rush to break you; he savored it, each crack in your defenses another victory in his quiet, relentless campaign. To Shouto, love was control, possession, and the quiet certainty that you would never, ever belong to anyone else.

And he would make sure of that, no matter what it took.

────────────

♡ Villain! Midoriya Izuku (Deku).

There was nothing left of the boy you once knew. His smile, once kind and genuine, was now twisted, a mockery of the hero he pretended to be. Midoriya was no longer a savior—he was a predator, and you were his prey. He didn’t hide his intentions, didn’t bother with pretenses.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispered, his voice dripping with adoration that felt more like a curse. “I’ve been watching you for so long. You have no idea how much I’ve done for you, how many people I’ve destroyed just to keep you safe.”

His hands were trembling, not with nerves but with excitement, the kind that came from finally obtaining something he’d coveted for so long. When he touched you, it was with reverence, as if you were a sacred object meant only for him. But there was nothing holy about the way he looked at you, his green eyes dark with hunger, his grin wide and unsettling.

“You’re scared,” he noted, almost amused. “That’s okay. You’ll learn to love me. You don’t have a choice.”

His kisses were rough, desperate, as if he needed to consume you, to devour every piece of you until there was nothing left. He didn’t care if you cried, didn’t care if you begged. In fact, he liked it. Your tears were proof of his power, of the hold he had over you.

———

Midoriya Izuku had always been obsessive, but the way his fixation on you consumed him was nothing short of monstrous. He no longer sought to save the world; no, his only goal was to possess you entirely, to twist you into something that could never leave him. And he’d succeeded, hadn’t he? You were here, trapped under the weight of his adoration, his hands gripping you with a strength that bordered on desperation.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” His voice was breathless, his green eyes wide and wild as they roved over you. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You were always meant to be mine. Every step I’ve taken, every choice I’ve made—it was all for you.”

There was something unhinged in his tone, a mixture of awe and madness that made your stomach churn. He didn’t see you as a person anymore. You were his salvation, his obsession, the only thing that mattered in his twisted, crumbling world. And he would do anything to keep you by his side.

“I’m not a bad person,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Everything I’ve done—it was for us. They tried to take you from me, tried to ruin what we have, but I stopped them. I’ll always stop them.”

His hands were steady now, his grip firm as he held you in place. There was no escape, no room for resistance. Izuku didn’t need chains to bind you; his sheer presence was enough to suffocate you, to remind you that you were entirely at his mercy.

“You think I don’t notice?” he asked, his grin widening as his gaze bore into yours. “The way you look at me, the way your body reacts even when you’re scared. It’s okay to feel that way. I want you to feel that way. I want every part of you—your fear, your tears, your love. It’s all mine.”

When he kissed you, it wasn’t tender. It was bruising, all-consuming, a chaotic clash of teeth and tongues that left you gasping for air. His hands wandered, exploring with a fervor that bordered on worship. He treated your body like a shrine, something to be revered and defiled in equal measure.

“You’re trembling,” he noted, his voice soft but laced with dark amusement. “Don’t worry, it’s normal. You’re overwhelmed, but that’s how it should be. I want to overwhelm you. I want to be the only thing you think about, the only thing you need.”

Izuku’s affection was a double-edged sword, as sharp as it was suffocating. He spoke to you as if he were a hero, as if he truly believed that his actions were justified, that his love for you made the horrors he committed excusable. But his gaze, dark and hungry, betrayed the truth. He wasn’t protecting you—he was consuming you, piece by piece, until there was nothing left of the person you once were.

“Every scar, every bruise—it’s proof that you’re mine,” he said, his fingers tracing the marks he’d left behind. “Don’t be ashamed of them. Wear them with pride. They mean I love you.”

There was no arguing with him, no reasoning with the man who had long since abandoned morality in favor of his obsession. Izuku didn’t see his actions as cruel; he saw them as necessary. To him, you were the center of the universe, and he would destroy anyone who dared to challenge his claim on you.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. “I hate seeing you upset. But if it’s for me, then… maybe it’s okay. Just this once.”

His smile was soft, almost tender, but there was no comfort in it. It was the smile of a man who had nothing left to lose, a man who had decided that you were his salvation and his damnation all at once. And no matter how much you struggled, no matter how much you begged, Izuku wouldn’t let you go. He couldn’t.

“You’re mine,” he said again, his voice steady, unwavering. “You’ve always been mine. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”

To him, love wasn’t about freedom or choice. It was possession, control, the unrelenting certainty that you would never belong to anyone else. And as his hands tightened around you, his lips ghosting over your skin, you realized that there was no escape from the man who had turned his obsession into a twisted form of devotion.

────────────

♡ Dabi (Todoroki Touya).

Dabi was a shadow, a ghost who lingered just out of reach until it was too late. His presence was suffocating, a combination of smoke and ash that clung to your skin like a brand. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“You didn’t think you could actually hide from me, girl?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly, filled with a dark amusement that made your stomach turn. “I’m not some fool who’s gonna let you slip through my fingers.”

His touch was rough, his hands scarred and burned, but he didn’t care if it hurt. In fact, he liked it, liked the way you flinched under his grip, the way your breath hitched when he leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear.

“You look so pretty when you’re scared,” he murmured, his tone almost tender. “Makes me wanna ravage you even more.”

Dabi wasn’t gentle. He didn’t know how to be. His kisses were bruising, his teeth sharp against your skin, leaving marks that would take weeks to fade. He was possessive, his grip unyielding as if he were afraid you’d disappear if he let go. But there was a sadness in his eyes, a flicker of something broken and desperate that only made him more dangerous.

“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice steady, final. “And I don’t share.”

For Dabi, love was destruction.

And you were his favorite thing to destroy.

———

Dabi’s love was a slow burn, a smoldering fire that crept closer with every passing moment, until it devoured you whole. He didn’t rush, didn’t bother with theatrics. When he claimed you, it was with the inevitability of something that had been decided long before you had a chance to resist.

“You didn’t stand a chance,” he said, his voice a husky drawl that carried the weight of certainty. His blue eyes, bright and unrelenting, bore into yours with a heat that scorched you from the inside out. “You’ve always been mine since the moment I saw you. You just didn’t know it yet.”

His touch was calloused, rough from years of self-destruction, and when his hands gripped your wrists, the heat of his skin was a cruel reminder of his power. Dabi didn’t just want you—he wanted to consume you, to make you feel every ounce of his presence until you couldn’t think of anything else. His fingers left marks wherever they roamed, bruises that burned as if his flames had kissed you directly.

“You feel that?” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck as his rough lips ghosted over your skin. “That’s me. Burning into you. Marking you. You’ll never get rid of it. Never get rid of me.”

There was a possessiveness in his every movement, a desperate hunger that bordered on madness. He didn’t want your love—he demanded it, took it without permission, leaving no room for hesitation or doubt. His kisses were rough, searing, his teeth dragging against your lips as if he wanted to taste the fear that lingered there.

“I could burn this whole fucking world down,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, his grip tightening as his flames flickered to life. “But you? You’re the only thing I’d keep. The only thing worth saving.”

But his version of saving was suffocating, a cage built of fire and smoke that left no escape. Dabi wasn’t gentle, wasn’t kind. His love was destruction, raw and unfiltered, the kind that left you trembling beneath the weight of it. He didn’t care if you cried, if you begged for release. In fact, he thrived on it, the broken sound of your voice feeding the darkness that consumed him.

“Don’t cry, doll,” he said, his tone mockingly sweet as he wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. The heat of his touch lingered, a cruel reminder of the flames that simmered just beneath his skin. “You’re too pretty for that. Besides, it’s not like you can run. Where the hell would you go?

Dabi’s obsession was a monster in itself, a hungry, clawing thing that refused to let him rest. He needed you in a way that was almost pathetic, a desperate craving that he buried under layers of cruelty and bravado. But it slipped through the cracks sometimes, in the way his voice softened when he whispered your name, in the way his hands trembled just slightly when they traced the curve of your neck.

“You make me weak, you know that?” he confessed, his laugh a bitter, shattered thing as his grip on you tightened. “And I hate it. But I can’t stop. You’re in my head, under my skin. You’ve ruined me, so it’s only fair I ruin you too.”

To Dabi, love wasn’t about tenderness or trust. It was about control, possession, the unrelenting need to keep you by his side, no matter the cost. He didn’t see his actions as cruel—they were necessary, a means to an end. And if he had to break you to keep you, then so be it.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said, his grin sharp and dangerous as his lips brushed against yours. “This is how it’s gonna be. You and me, forever. You don’t get a say in it. You never did.”

There was no escape from him, no reprieve from the intensity of his obsession. Dabi wasn’t just a villain—he was a force of nature, an inferno that consumed everything in its path.

And you were his favorite thing to burn.

────────────

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General TAG LIST: @uniquecutie-puffs , @ikevampharem , @tnsophiaonly , @mokingbrd78k , @cooldeermagazine , @mimitk , @xileonaaaa , @acacia-koi

[animeyanderelover]

@lucyrose9820 asked: A scenario where Obito, Itachi, Tomura, Dabi, Shoto, Ulquiorra are sleeping and their beloved caresses their faces?

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, abduction, isolation

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan

Caressing their face while they sleep

Obito Uchiha

🔥​You'd be mistaken to think that a healthy sleep is something Obito is familiar with even if your presence provides enough comfort for him to doze off for a while though he still finds himself waking up multiple times a night. His sleep is very light to begin with so it is very likely that he will be either already be awake by the point you caress his face or will wake up as soon as he feels your touch as he is always very aware of any touches you give him. His heart is pounding and he feels a fuzzy euphoria swirling around inside of him as your love washes over him like soft summer rain. This is the bliss that he has always longed to have with the person he loves and especially if you have been someone who has been up to that point scared of him you'd turn a bright fire of delusional thinking into a raging inferno. His fingers instantly wrap around your wrist as soon as you pull away from his face, keeping your warm palm on his cheek as he opens his eye to look at you., asking you to do it again.

Itachi Uchiha

🍡​Sharing a bed with you is a new development in your lives and even if he can tell himself that you have made this decision based on your own account, he can't stop thinking that the isolation ever since your abduction has probably led you to crave his presence as he's the only human interaction you have left. Itachi has a light sleep himself and needs a long time to fall asleep but he enjoys it listening to your own steady breaths as you slip into dreams. He'd pretend to be asleep as soon as he feels your fingers stroking his face, waiting to see if you'll do anything else. For the split of a second he does feel happiness as it is one of the first signs of affection that you have given him since you requested to share a bed with him. It all is quickly drowned out by guilty awareness though as he questions how genuine your affection is and how much was influenced by the months of isolation. You'll never know that he was awake as he won't talk about it even the next day, a memory he will keep to himself.

Shoto Todoroki

🔥​❄️​Shoto's mostly delusional behavior has led you to share a bed with him from a very early point on. He's going to treat his lover better than his father did which is why he needs you to love him as much as he loves you and his delusional thoughts assist him to drown out any words and signs of protest from your isde even if awareness sometimes creeps in and destroys his view of himself. When he wakes up in the middle of the night though to feel your fingers brushing over his burnt mark, his delusions instantly latch on to your sign of affection. His burnt side has always been a reminder of what his father stole from him, a reminder of the day his childhood was taken away from him and his mother as well. To feel you caressing something that has always been connected to his loss of innocence and childhood with such loving touches makes him very emotional as his arms draw you closer to his chest, taking you by surprise. You finally love him, don't you?

Dabi

🔹​Dabi has stopped caring about anything which includes the people around him. How lame would it be to pretend to care for you just because you happen to be his obsession? If he wants you in bed with him, he'll have you in bed with him. Touya doesn't expect you to love him with the things he has done and he won't change for you either as this man you see in front of you is who he is now. He doesn't expect to wake up abruptly to feel you caressing his jaw and almost on reflex he grabs your wrist and yanks your hand away in a tight grip that has you let out a whimper of pain. Initially he almost doesn't seem to process that you were caressing his face out of affection as he stares at you, why would you with someone as shitty as him? After a while he lets go of your wrist though, unsure what to say to you. Ultimately he decides to close his eyes again with no apology, though he keeps on looking at you as if demanding you to do it again because he is too prideful to ask you for your touch.

Tomura Shigaraki

✋Whether we're considering his gremlin version or his more mature version, you'll end up forced to share a bed with him and especially a pre-Re-Destro Shigaraki would be very demanding of any touches which you will have to give him as his quirk would activate if he were to fully touch you. His reaction would differ depending on what Shigaraki we're going for in here. I'd feel like before remembering his past, Shigaraki would not fully realise just how significant it would be for you to touch him on your own accord without him having to force you. He'd just wake up, stare at you before going back to sleep again whilst mumbling that he wants you to continue what you're doing right now. A Shigaraki after regaining his memories would realise the implication that you have started gaining feelings for him when he senses your hands touching and stroking his face even though he didn't tell you to do so whilst pretending to stay asleep, worried that you'd stop if he were to open his eyes.

Ulquiorra Cifer

💚​I'm not even sure if an Arrancar actually needs sleep but even if they should, Ulquiorra still might as well be an insomniac. He doesn't require sleep like you would and you may think that this may mean that he'd leave you in peace yet it is this unnatural fascination he finds himself having with you that leads him to sometimes lay down with you all to observe you and grasp what it is he is feeling for you. So even if his eyes are closed, his mind is wide awake as he is merely copying what you are doing whenever you go to sleep. The sensation of warm hands on his cold skin is one of the things he is still not used to as the concept of physical affection is one of the many things he is still unfamiliar with. Green eyes glow in the darkness of the room as he gazes at you, startling you in the process as you quickly draw your hand back only for his own hand to grasp your wrist and hold it in place. The feeling was unfamiliar but not unwelcome yet he wants to know from you why you felt the need to touch his face in the first place.

[baby-tini]

TW: abusive relationship, implied kidnapping, hints of infantilization, brief mention of a panic attack, dabi being an asshole (like always)

Dabi hates the words "shut up"... but only when they come from you. He couldn't careless if someone else were to say it, he'd just set them on fire if they ever even thought of disrespecting him that way. But, when it comes from you, it feels like a whole new level of disrespect. The little sneer you give him as you utter his least favorite words that slip from you, you do it so easily too. Whenever he pisses you off or goes a little too far with the teasing, pushing him away with a little huff of, "shut up, Dabi." Oh, it's so much fucking worse when you use "Dabi" knowing damn well you always call him Touya now.

It pisses him off, truly it does. There's always this nasty urge clawing at his chest to grab you up by your hair and make you apologize to him. It gives him a strong feeling of sadistic-glee to see you spewing apologies of, "sorry, Touya"'s and "it won't happen again, Touya"'s until your tongue feels heavy and your eyes are lined with red as they get puffy from all your whining. That's when he truly adores you, when you're clingy and compliant, huffing when he gets up even for a second, reaching for him as he climbs into bed with you.

"C'mere baby, come give me a kiss," you know it's not a question, but a demand. You don't care though, he makes you so mad. Taunting you, pulling at your hair and slapping your ass until there's hand-shaped bruises appearing only hours later... only to demand kisses afterwards. There's a nasty little glare you give him when he glances away from the television to look at you.

With a scowl, you move further away from him, "no." At that he gets off the couch and yanks you up by your arm with a scoff, "the fuck you mean no, doll? I wasn't asking." There's an immediate thrashing coming from you, "shut up, no, let go Dabi." There's a slap to your ass as he makes you stand on your feet. "Say that shit again, I dare you to say that shit again." You can feel your throat start to close up as you fight to get him off of you. Your breathing becomes ragged as your eyes get bleary.

"You wanna go in the corner, huh? Answer me before I make the decision for you." There's a shake of your head as a cry scratches itself from your throat, the sickly taste of bile starts to become apparent as Dabi continues to squeeze your arm tighter. "I'm not a f-fucking child Dabi," you croak out, your throat becoming dryer with every inhale.

He grins so wide his staples almost pop loose, "you're not a f-fucking child, huh? 'Cause you're certainly fuckin' actin' like one." He mocks, sitting back down on the couch as he pulls you into his lap. Forcing your head into the crook of his neck, he pets your hair as he shushes you. He waits a couple minutes for you to calm down before he speaks again, "... you know I hate hurting you, baby. It tears me up, it really does. You know I got too though, right? You know I gotta teach you good behaviour?" There's a nod into his shoulder as your sobs quiet down. "Good. It'll be so much easier for both of us if you keep up your good behaviour, that way you won't get punished."

Dabi truly hates when you spit that ugly phrase at him, it makes him become this monster, one that causes him to leave blunt, cresent-moon shaped marks in your skin. A monster that thrives on your fear when doe eyes quickly turn to fear as azure flames lick at your skin, leaving ugly red splotches on soft flesh.

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Hunger

Pairing: Dark Dabi x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: Leaving you with an empty stomach is the first step for Dabi’s plan to break you. 

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping; Starvation; Manipulation.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Finally entering the Bnha fandom. Give me more ideas, pls, a girl doesn't know what to write :)

–

You wince at the pain that blossoms in your middle.

Your stomach far too tired to growl properly, having resigned to prolonged painful pangs - a pitiful form of begging to which you can’t answer. Your whole body feels weak, no strength left in your limbs aside from a dizzy mind that keeps drifting away.  

You can’t even remember when was the last time you ate something - courtesy from Dabi. He is a vindictive asshole, you knew that from the start.

Wasn't that the reason you got yourself kidnapped? Your constant refusal to his advances snapping him off enough to kidnap you.

But you didn’t think he’d make you starve for days as retaliation for all the yelling and shouting the nastiest insults you could find at the black-haired man. 

You’d kill for a single bite of that delicious crusty pizza you ate that one time. Or that mouth-watering hamburger that so often appears in television advertisements.

Just the memory of food has your stomach hurting even more and you curl your arms around your body in the bed, feeling yourself getting weaker by the minute. 

As time tediously drags by, you fall into a light slumber, wincing at the regular stomach aches. 

The faint noise of the apartment door opening barely means anything to you, however the subtle aroma of warm food that reaches your nose triggers your eyes open. 

It floats through the small apartment, the smell of delicious cuisine bringing water to your dry mouth and you gulp. Are you dreaming?

Footsteps and the chickling of plates is all your ears catch and it doesn’t take long before Dabi appears at the door, holding a plastic tupperware.

“Wakey wakey, sweetheart. Look what I got here.”

You sniff, head rising fragilely and your stomach growls loudly. Dabi chuckles at that, stepping closer to you.

“Looks like someone is hungry.” he opens the container and you almost choke when the luscious smell of seasoned food hits your nostrils. 

One of your hands unconsciously raises, fingers greedily reaching for the tupperware but Dabi is quick in moving it away from your reach, placing it on the floor behind him, knowing there’s no way for you to reach it given the heavy chain attached to your ankle. 

“Now, now, sweetheart, where are your manners?” 

“I’m hungry…” your weak voice brings a feline smile on Dabi’s voice, features twisting with pleasure at the hunger in your face, your cheeks slightly sunken with malnutrition.

“Not so strong now, are we? What happened? Got yourself into a diet?” he maliciously retorts. 

He slowly sits at the edge of the bed, blue eyes attentive to your reaction but you offer him none.

You’re too tired, too hungry to put up with him. The pit in your belly only worsens with each second and you’re about to beg Dabi when his hand reaches for your face, tenderly caressing your cheek. 

The momentaneous satisfaction in his disfigured face is broken into irritation when you recoil, pulling your face away from him, avoiding his touch.

His fingers harden into an angry fist and he scowls for a moment before forcing himself to calm down. 

“Always an ungrateful brat, aren’t you? An ungrateful stupid brat.” his eyes get colder as he glares at you. “Never able to appreciate all the things I do for you, huh? Always so-”

He stops, shaking his head before straightening his back and then he smiles - a wicked terrifying smile that has you forgetting about your devastating hunger - as he shrugs his shoulders. 

“Nah, but you know what? Brats don’t deserve to eat anyways.” he shakes some invisible dust off his long jacket, sighing as he starts to stand up,

“Well, guess I’m just gonna eat all that delicious food all by myself since I got no one to share it with. I even bought those delicious crispy chips you liked so much, but oh well.” 

You blink, panic and hunger bubbling in your body as you hopelessly reach for the cloth of his jacket. 

“No, Dabi, please!” you cry out, swallowing the last of your pride and honor as you beg, and he slowly sits back on the bed, “I’m sorry, okay? Please…”

His jaw twitches with enjoyment and the corner of his lips curl. 

“Yeah, is that so? Little brat wants to be a good girl now?” 

You nod eagerly despite the knot that tightens in your heart, but you can’t afford to think about any of this. You have to eat. 

“You sure about that? I’m not forcing you or anything, right?” 

The irony of his words would make you roll your eyes if you had the energy for such.

“Then say it. Loud and clear, so there’s no doubt left.”

“I-” you lose track of the words at the sight of his electrifying blue eyes, “I want to be a good girl.”

“Then you can start by acting like a good girl. Come here.” he taps his lap, his hand latching onto your wrist and you don’t resist when Dabi softly tugs you towards him.

A whimper escapes you when your frail muscles are forced to move using the last of your scarce energies but at the end you find yourself perched on top of Dabi’s lap, one leg awkwardly bent while the other lays straight, the chain on your ankle fully stretched.

His arms waste no time wrapping themselves around your waist, your arms getting caught in the way. He nuzzles into your neck, humming in delight despite the obvious tension in your body

“Are you sure you want to be fed? Cause you sure don’t seem very enthusiastic.” his dab is enough to snap you out of your transe and you turn your face towards him, pressing a small kiss to his cheek, cringing when your lips touch the cold staples. 

“That’s better.” he opens into a wide smile. “Wasn’t so hard, after all, huh?”

The rumble from your stomach has you wincing. “Can I eat now?” 

Dabi doesn’t mind you, too busy peppering kisses over the expanse of your shoulder.

“Dabi?”

“Hum, maybe in a while.” he winks at you, and you feel sick to your stomach despite having eaten nothing.

“I need to make sure that my good girl doesn’t turn bad.”

[natsukicookies]

Thinking about poor 16 years old touya who was just a kid on a street at night and no heroes helped him...

What if 20yo!reader who was a small hero saved him and took him home with her and took care of him and him slowly become obsessed with her as 3 years went by bc she was the only one who saved him, stood by him. While the reader is so clueless to his obsession <3

[cybersvoid]

❥ Big Brother Touya v [Nightmare]

──⇌••⇋──

♡ Pairings: BigBrother!Touya x Reader [Platonic]

Request: I love soft yandere big bro Touya with my entire being- the way you write him is so so good!!! Can I pretty please have some soft yandere big bro Dabi🙏❤? And if you could make it comfort that would be extra lovely ❤❤ [Anon]

Parts : i | ii | iii | iv

ღ Warning | Please do not repost my work anywhere. If you see anyone reposting or copying my work please let me know. Thank you!

──⇌••⇋──

It was late at night, and the soft hum of the house filled the silence. You tossed and turned in your bed, your eyes squeezed shut, trying to escape the terrifying dream that has its grip on you. No matter how fast you tried to run the shadows kept chasing you, dark and cold, creeping closer and closer. You weren't able to put any space between the two of you. Every time you tried to scream, no sound came out, and you started becoming hyper-aware of the sound of your own heart. The creature finally caught up to you, reaching out a dark long hand, just about to grasp you by your shirt when you were ripped from your nightmare.

You awoke with a violent gasp, your heart continuing to beat fiercely in your chest as if you were still being chased. Even though the nightmare was over, fear still crowded your every thought. You threw your blanket over your head, hoping it would shield you from whatever invisible force still felt so close, but it was useless. The howling wind outside only made the room feel colder, amplifying your unease.

You couldn’t stay in this room any longer. Panic welled up in your chest, and without thinking, you scrambled out of bed, your feet taking you toward the door. You knew you couldn’t go to your mom’s room—not wanting to wake up your dad—but you needed someone. You need Touya. Your feet moved almost instinctively toward his room. Each step that took you further from your room and closer to his, made you feel one step safer than before.

The second you were outside his room, you gently raised your fist, softly tapping it against the door. You waited a bit, but there was no answer. As quietly as you could, you twisted the door knob and let yourself in.

“Touya?” you called out in a hushed tone.

At the sound of your voice, Touya immediately shot out of bed, as if he could hear the fear that laced your words. His feet hit the floor with a soft thud before he rushed toward you, his hands immediately finding your shoulders.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to find your words, but your breath was still ragged. “It’s not that… I had a bad dream,” you finally managed to whisper, a tear slipping down your cheek.

With your new confession, Touya let out a sigh of relief that you weren't in any immediate danger. But hearing your trembling voice and seeing your eyes filled with fear, he could tell that this nightmare had really shaken you.

“Come here,” he murmured gently, pulling you into his arms. With ease, he guided you over to his bed, your small body still trembling in his grasp. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re safe here. I’m not going to let anything hurt you.”

He laid you down beside him, wrapping both of you in the warmth of his blanket. You curled up against him, your body still shivering from the remnants of the nightmare. He could feel the tremors in your small frame, and it broke his heart. He hates when there are things he can’t protect you from. There was no monster he could fight, no villain he could defeat to make this go away.

Hell, he’d burn everything to ash and dust if it meant keeping you safe, but keeping you safe from your dreams was a lot harder to accomplish. All he could do was try to comfort you, but it made him feel so useless.

“Y/N…” Touya’s voice softened as he gently pulled back to look at your face, his fingers brushing the stray tears from your cheek. “Do you want to talk about the dream?”

You shook your head, your small hands clutching his shirt. “No… It was just so scary. I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

Touya nodded in understanding. He didn’t need to know the details to know you needed him. With his hand still gently stroking your back, his voice became a soothing murmur in the quiet of the room.

“You’re safe now, okay? The nightmare is over, and you’re with me,” he said, his voice low and comforting. “No more bad dreams. I’ve got you.”

The weight of your fear began to lift with his gentle voice. “Can I stay here for the night?” you sniffled, voice small but full of trust.

Touya gave you a reassuring smile, “You can stay here forever, Y/N.”

“Forever?” You giggled softly, the idea so silly, yet comforting at the same time. You weren’t entirely awake, but the thought of always being able to stay with him brought a smile to your face.

“Why so surprised?” He questioned with a raised eyebrow, “Don't you wanna stay with your big brother forever?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. “I can’t do that silly! I’m gonna start kindergarten soon. And then middle school. And Dad…” you let out a small yawn before continuing, “he says I’m going to be a hero when my quirk develops.”

Touya’s chest tightened at the thought of you following the same path he had—hero training, the pressure, the dangerous world outside. He would never let you go through it. No matter what. Even if it meant taking you far away from everything—far away from the nightmares that could hurt you in real life. You’ll be safe. He’ll make sure of it.

“Shh,” he hushed, his voice soft and determined, “You shouldn’t worry about that. Plus, you don’t need a quirk when your big brother is here. I’ll always protect you Y/N.”

The last bit came out more as a whisper when he realized you weren’t even awake to hear it. Your eyes gently shut and your breathing now steady. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead his hand resting lightly on your back, watching over you as you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

“Always…” Touya whispered, one last time. His words barely audible, before joining you in sleep.

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

DAY XIV. — PREDATOR/PREY

cw: Predator/Prey, Weapons / Use of Weapons, Referenced / Implied Stalking, Quirkless AU, Violence, Violent Imagery, Slight Manipulation / Gaslighting, Delusional Thoughts / Behaviors, Yandere Undertones, Injury, Uncomfortable Scenarios, Unhealthy Relationships, General Dark Content Not Suitable for Immature Audiences, Fem! Reader. Reader discretion is advised. 18+ Only!

author's note: This one is completely and totally self-indulgent. Hope you enjoy! I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fiction! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

word count: Approximately 2.7k words.

You’re not even fully awake before the hand around your mouth tightens, claws digging into flesh, and jerks it back. A muted gasp never sees the light of day, but your eyes are open and wide now. Both of your hands shoot upwards, snatching up a wrist, blood boiling yet frosting in the chilly night air. 

“Shhh. There’s no need to panic, princess. I won’t hurt you.”

Fat chance, but would fighting back be optimal at this point? You don’t know who’s behind you—those guttural and masculine chords still echoing in your ears don’t sound familiar in the slightest. You hope you’re probably going to die at best because the thought of anything else happening prickles your skin with gooseflesh and makes dread broil inside of your lungs. The voice chuckles. 

“Good, good. Yeah, okay. I’m here to take you home, so just keep cooperating and this’ll be easy.” 

Never mind. The fear underneath the flats of your nails springs to life, fiery and explosive, and you immediately fling your head backwards. Pain begins like a gong at the crown of your head, but it’s dull before it ever begins. Whoever’s behind you groans, and it’s only a fraction of a millisecond, but it’s enough to bound forward and escape their hold. That hand trails down your body, sharp and flexing to keep you in deep, but you’re faster. Rolling across your bed, dragging sheets and pillows, piling yourself up and throwing this person off—all of it makes your head spin, but it’s fine. This is fine. 

Whenever your body collides to the ground, loud and thundering, your ankle splinters, you gasp again but it doesn’t stall you. Slamming both of your hands on the ground, you twist and run. Run run run, tearing open your door, jumping as far as possible. You’re hopping, two little steps on the ground, big leaps. No time wasted. That voice cries after you before heavy footfalls follow after yours. Pain is flaring alive in your ankle because that was a stupid move, stupid and careless, but the adrenaline biting and feasting upon your bone marrow urges you to keep going, to keep moving, to keep running. 

Shallow breaths choke up in the back of your throat as you loop and curve, winding through your house. The foyer is so close. All you have to do is get to the foyer so you can run outside and start screaming for your neighbors’ help. The stranger behind you is quickly gaining on you, but the flight of your feet is deft, like a doe through a dangerous meadow. You can escape him, you know you can—it’ll be fine, just turn this corner, spin around and—

You slam into someone. There’s no longer any heat inside of your body, it’s drained and soggy, and you’re left slowly lifting your head. Golden honey eyes pierce through you. 

“Why are you running, angel?” 

His face is scary underneath the dim lighting of your living room’s threshold, shaded by that strange plague doctor mask covering the bottom half. Those eyes, long with lashes and so contemplative, the aloof air that seems to curtain his gaze, the way those midnight purple curls fall across his forehead, they all mesh together and send your head in a frenzy. You’re spinning. You can feel it, the floors, the walls, the ceilings, his body, the other person’s body are all homing in on you. It’s so airy in here, shifting altitudes, and you start panting. Princess. Angel. Princess. Angel. Princess. Angel. 

The other person finally rounds the corner. 

“There ya are, princess. You’re really quick on your—” 

He stops. The other man in front of you stops looking at you to level with the other stranger. The two of them watch one another. Everything is tense, thick droplets of water forcing, begging, their way out of an empty faucet. And then, a raucous laugh. 

“Haha, ohhh, this is good. What’s a yakuza doing sticking his nose here?” 

A scoff. 

“I recognize you. You’re in that one gang, aren’t you? The League of Villains?” 

You’re too scared to turn around, but you’re not sure if that’s a bright idea. You can’t bring yourself to move, can’t escape the feeling of the both of these strangers growing closer. Step step step, and the gang member is only a stretch behind you. 

“What of it? If you’re here to pick a fight, do it on your own turf. I’m not here to play dirty.” 

The yakuza, you guess, tilts his head before he squints. 

“Not here to play dirty? Neither am I. No, I’m here to collect something that belongs to me.” 

Stone grinding against stone, creaking, and it’s dribbling into the pond below your feet. Both of your eyes start growing, wider than a swollen harvest moon, glossy with confusion and horror. Wetting your lips doesn’t make them any less chapped. What did he say? What does that mean? What—you… you don’t know anything about that. Who in the hell is this guy? You’ve never even met him. You’ve never been involved in crime. You’ve never done anything but abide by the law like your average and boring person. So why, why is he saying that something that belongs to him is in your house? 

“Belongs to you? Oh, that’s golden. This is a mess. That something belongs to me, creep.” 

Imploring eyes slowly tilt around, shuddering like a wind chime. You finally see the stranger behind you. His snowy locks splay across his forehead, those licks of flames spiked and sharp. Teal eyes never seem to leave your visage. Golden piercings glitter whenever he opens his mouth in a toothy grin. There’s anger in your heart, building, and brimming, and you can’t help whenever your teeth grit and you whisper, 

“What the fuck are you two talking about? I don’t know either of you. Get out of my house.” 

A deep sigh. 

“This would have been so much easier if you would have stayed asleep. You’re so clever and meticulous in your planning, Todoroki.” 

Todoroki groans before it turns into a mocking yell. 

“Save it, Chisaki. I don’t feel like wasting my time on you. Why don’t you find your own girl?” 

They’re ignoring you—they’re ignoring you and he just called you his girl. 

“Hey, answer me, you assholes.” 

Zilch. 

“You’re mistaken if you think she’s your girl. I’ve had my eyes on her for some time now. I can’t expect someone like you to understand that.” 

Todoroki’s face pinches up like he’s about to spit, but he swallows and scoffs. He takes a step forward. Your fists ball. Your head pivots carefully back around to Chisaki. The door is behind him. It’s beckoning to you, its fingers curling, drawing. You have to run past Chisaki. You have to manage to dodge past him. He can’t touch you. If he grabs you, those fingers will lock and you’ll be trapped. You have to do this right. You have to be calculated with your every breath. 

“Whaddya mean by that? I’m a real gentleman if you take the time to know me. Tch, ‘sides, she’s been my girl ever since her friends tagged our property.” 

It’s like shattering glass, and you gasp. The shards pierce the pads of your fingers. Every thought in your brain slurps down the drain. 

Chisaki seems to pause. His breath hangs in the air. 

“Well, isn’t that a great coincidence? A few of those friends vandalized one of our bases. I’ve been watching her since.” 

Sketchy violin strings, they scratch and shiver. You can feel the budding anticipation. You can feel thunder in your heart. Your mind is searching. You need to figure out how to get out of here. You’re wrapped up in something that never even involved you. The war drums in your head remind you of your beating oxygen. Chisaki also takes a step closer. You’re glued to the spot, feet sinking into tar. You can’t comprehend anything. Todoroki is right behind you now—his hand is like blades whenever he eases his fingers along the small of your back. Chisaki continues speaking.

“Is that why I’ve seen you hanging around here? Sigh. I should have guessed. But regardless of that…” 

Everything is shaking, the music has stopped. Just little sounds in the night time. An occasional strike against a drum. Nothing. Your head fills with fluff whenever you see Chisaki reach inside of his jacket. You’re in the line of fire. He’s going to pull out a gun, you know he is, there’s nothing in your mind that reassures you. Is he going to kill you both? Chisaki’s hand sparkles underneath the moon whenever it resurfaces, metal, the barrel of a gun. It’s terror in real time, an abandoning hope that sets your skin ablaze and your knees into petroleum. The gun stretches forward, angled over your shoulder. It clicks, but the bizarre repeating sounds vibrating in one ear and coming out the other control your every thought. The gun, the gun, the gun—

Chisaki grunts whenever you squat and fling your head into his stomach. His stance crumbles, and the gun flies out of his hand. Todoroki emits something, but you’re too focused on shoving all of your weight onto Chisaki to make sure he fully topples over. The gun clatters, but it doesn’t go off, and Chisaki’s hands are on you whenever he falls backwards. You go down with him, but you know that the jolt to his frame should be enough for you to escape those talons. The ground rumbles in frustration. Another set of hands wrap around your waist and pull you away from Chisaki. Todoroki seems to start cackling at the bewildered expression plastered across Chisaki’s face, but you’re more worried about jabbing your elbows into Todoroki’s stomach and wriggling from his grasp. He emits something gross, but you escape him too. 

And with that, you flee. 

“Princess! Get back here. I’m not gonna hurt you! I’ll just kill this guy and we can get going. Then—” 

He gets cut off by Chisaki, you’re sure, because you hear a booming noise whenever both of their bodies hit the ground. They’re rumbling around, groaning and yelling at one another in hatred and venom. Your knees hit the hard floor in your flight, away from it all, but your palms rest only centimeters away from the gun. The pounding ache in your ankle reminds you that your adrenaline is running thin, that you’re losing steam the longer you think about the two men fighting over you. Chisaki shrieks, Todoroki hisses. You don’t want to see what they’re doing. Darkness is a vignette around the frames of your eyes, and you can feel every little moment of your life lead up to this. The gun. The gun is resting in front of you. They’re clashing, the sounds of the dying engines and fans of a machine. One of them will win at any minute, then they’ll get up and chase after you. 

The metal is heavy in your hands whenever you pick up the gun. You can’t identify the make or model; you don’t care. It glints whenever you shift it to hold it correctly, and it seems to weigh more and more with every passing second. Another clap of a storm, a body goes skipping across the floor, slamming into what sounds like a couch. A table gets knocked over, it breaks. Your mouth is dry, and only the faintest sounds of city life remain on the horizon. 

“Todoroki—get away from her, or—” 

An ear-splitting wail will forever replay in your head until you die, a ringing. The gun’s reverb hurts your arms, sends them back in its hefty recoil, and you swear you hear both shoulders pop. Todoroki grasps his thigh before he clumsily lowers to the ground. His eyes are filled with tears, drool and spit runs down his chin. He’s looking at you like you’re the crazy one. 

“H-Hey. I… don’t understand why you’d…” 

He’s grasping for straws, and you’re gasping for words. You want to say something. There’s a distinct trauma that yearns to wrap around your neck after hurting someone like that. You can see his eyes, can hear his voice, can understand him, and there’s a sympathy that starts to make your head hurt. You ache, and it’s a migraine before you can hear static. 

“I—I…” 

A strange beat, an ice bath. 

Chisaki has crossed the threshold, dived towards your body, hands wrapped around the gun. You’re too shocked to fight, and he easily snatches his weapon back. He’s coiled himself around your body in a way that sends you both spiraling. 

“Mine. You’re mine. You wanted to kill Todoroki, right? I’ll do it for you. I’ll do everything for you from now on.” 

He’s muttering nonsense, but you don’t care. Todoroki is choking on himself, Chisaki is trembling in exasperation, and you—you open your mouth and bite down. Chisaki’s sleeve gets milky in your mouth, but his flesh is warm and reminds you of life. He’s screeching, and then the gun goes off again. You don’t see where it flies off to, but Todoroki crosses the distance. But you’re gone before his hands even brush you. 

You spin on the ground, and you’re running again. Crawling, kicking up dust and dirt, and you’re running like a feral animal. Froth leaks from your mouth. 

“What are you doing? Good girls don’t play like this. I can teach you how to play, princess. Don’t run from me, don’t run from me. Hey. Hey!” 

Todoroki sounds like a child, but his meandering steadily builds in speed while he chases after you. He’s cackling, and he’s deranged, but you don’t care. He’s yelling, and there are moans lining his words, and he starts begging. His words derail into nothings, a fist beats against the floor and the electricity from it howls deep within your nerves. Chisaki isn’t hurt, so he easily chases after you, quicker and lighter on his feet. 

“I control your life, angel! I know everything about you! Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.” 

Chisaki’s threats aren’t empty, but you don’t care at this moment. All that matters is the fires spreading throughout your body, down to your curling toes. You push, once, twice, and you’re hobbling on two feet. The door is close, so close, you can do it—you can—

“Angel!”

“Princess!” 

The door rips from its hinges, the sheer aptitude and desperation in your muscles to escape make you a monster, and you’re out. 

Your body slips through the door, you’re free, you’re free. And you let Chisaki and Todoroki know—you scream, you scream so fucking loud. It’s one of those girly kinds of screams that makes glass explode, but you don’t care how pathetic it makes you feel. You yell into the night, bare feet zooming down your yard and into the middle of the street. You’re flinging your arms, jumping to the best of your ability, and you start crying—finally. 

Lights flicker on one by one, and you know you’re saved. You pause, standing in the middle of the street, stars and relief raining down on your face. Your body sinks, everything sinks, and you pivot around to stare into your home—into the entrance. 

Chisaki and Todoroki hover there, but they don’t follow after you. 

You’re panting. 

But cruel smiles seem to cross their eyes, warbling their visages, and ice frosts across their cheekbones. Those expressions make everything stand still, loose piano tiles that have no rhythm. The darkness seems to consume them as they carefully step back into your home, staying in the shadows. And deafening and drowning realization starts to creep into your fibers. 

Everything is warping, colors that don’t make sense, voices calling out your name, a clock ticking so so so sooo fast. They didn’t even attempt to follow you. They didn’t even attempt to chase you. They didn’t fight each other standing in the doorway. They’re not finished. They’re not done. They’re not going to stop. 

It claps throughout your whole body—Chisaki and Todoroki. 

You’re not safe. 

[reareaotaku]

Yandere Dabi | Touya Todoroki Headcanons

This man is lost in his own child desires to appease his father, so it's hard to get any emotion out of him that isn't negative/anger

Dabi has never felt the love of another soul, so he struggles to figure out his feelings for you

He's a bad guy, he knows that. He will destroy everything that isn't already dead, so if you two are together it's only a matter of time before he kills you too

He's desperate for love and attention, even if you can't tell

He's damaged far beyond repair and you'll never be able to fix him... If only you met him when you were both younger, maybe he could have been saved

He holds you to close to his heart. It will hurt you both in the end

Though, while you're both still alive, he will protect you, no matter the cost

The league means nothing to him, not when you're in the picture

He loves you, even if he has a fucked up way of showing it

[the-grimm-writer]

Dabi with a darling who's obsessed with her art, her art being ballet

Cue vantom of the opera music ballet addition.

Also, I'm genuinely so sorry this took so long. I'm getting better at answering requests, I swear 😭😭😭

Mdni

Tw: stalking, paranoia, mentions of unhealthy habits, kidnapping.

You were used to people staring at you. Their eyes glued to you with pure admiration as you gracefully glided across the stage, moving your body in ways that took you years to master.

But this felt different. You felt someone's eyes burning into you with such intensity that any normal person would've broken down from it. Yet if you were one to break, you would've never made it very far. So you continued your performance like chills weren't running down your spine.

Heroes were hard to please. The world's top elite, coming to the theater to watch you, dressed in their finest night apparel. But the moment you started, all their doubts would wash away, watching silently with fascination once the music started.

The crowd broke into applause once you finished your dance, standing up and yelling their praise. It always made those long, painful nights of practice worth it.

As you bowed, you looked up to the audience, your blood running cold as you saw bright blue eyes from the back, hiding away from everyone else. Like a ghost, only you could see.

By the time you get down to greet the audience and discuss your performance, the man with the glowing eyes is nowhere to be scene. You don't know why you look for him, going past the darkest part of the theater and peaking in to see if he's still there, watching you.

Even your walk is elegant, your posture is perfect, back straight, and head held up high. Your voice was soft and feminine as you spoke to the people as they congratulated you.

"That was a stunning performance, my dear!" A tall, balding man with round, thick rimmed glasses eagerly shook your hand, yet you could tell by his crisp black suit and the beautiful younger woman that looked to be in her mid twenties or early thirties that stood by his side looking at you that he obviously had money. "When will you be performing again?"

"I'm here every night, thank you very much."

You smiled like he didn't give you the creeps. One thing your master didn't have to teach you but were thankful that he did. How to keep your admirers happy while maintaining a distance from them.

It continued on and on. You knew most people who attended the theater were wealthy, but you didn't care. You had all you wanted right now. So even as they introduced themselves, you didn't bother to remember their names. Always changing the topic if one got too bold with you.

A dancer's career was like a star, your balletmaster used to tell you. Shine too bright, and it would burn out quickly.

That's what you liked about it being busy, not being able to stay and talk to one person for too long. So whenever someone made you uncomfortable, you easily excused yourself and moved on to the next person. Sometimes, it would last for hours until you were finally able to leave.

There was a continuous cycle in your job. After you perform, you'd go to bed, get showered then something to eat, and then rush back to the studio in the early morning to practice. It was your favorite time to do it. When the sun was on the verge of rising and it was still dark outside. You could practice in peace with no prying eyes to judge you.

Turning the lights on, you walked onto the stage, dressed in your practice outfit. Skin tight nude colored leggings, a black leotard with a small tutu connected to it, and pointe shoes you just recently replaced and broke in. Your hair up in a tight bun, completely out of your face.

Taking a deep breath, you stood on the center stage and got in position, pretending like it was an actual performance as you danced.

It was always something you reminded yourself of when you got the lead role in dances. And whenever you didn't get what you were striving for and it felt like your world was going to come crashing down.

Yet still, you would dance until your feet bled and you physically couldn't anymore. It was painful yet an addicting feeling each time you overcame a boundary you once had and turned it into a new move you mastered.

"Why did you stop?"

Spinning around, you were about to stop until you collided with a person. You were about to apologize, thinking it was one of the other performers or the janitor until he spoke up.

You gasped in shock, turning around and stepping back from him. Those cerulean eyes were something you could never forget. Ever since that night.

"It's you..." Fear twisted in your stomach as you looked at him.

He chuckled at this, casually stepping forward towards you. "I knew you'd recognize me."

"Dabi..." You said breathlessly. It wasn't difficult to know who he was when he was always on the news. Heroes' warning is to be on the lookout for a deadly villain litered in patched scars and black hair. He smirked, knowing you'd seen him before.

"The theater is usually the last place I'd hide in. Too many witnesses." He stepped forward, making you go back. "But those idiots didn't even notice me. Not that I could blame them. That was quite the performance you put on."

You backed away, and he could see in your costume that your body was stiff as a board. Trained to have perfect posture even when just having a discussion with someone.

"Those fools don't deserve you, you know." He spoke up, his voice low and raspy. "They'll do what they do with everyone that has a talent. They'll make you dance like a puppet until you break."

You were stiff as you stood there, watching him circle around you on the stage. "I know what I signed up for," you said softly.

His eyes narrowed. "Then you're just as foolish as they are."

"It's ironic, you know," Dabi chuckled darkly as he stood behind you, placing his hands on your waist. "My father... he always strived for perfection. But even his most precious creation isn't enough for him."

You didn't blink an eye at his cold tone. Used to getting degraded and talked down to whenever you messed up even the slightest in front of your master and the instructors. So brutally harsh it could make even the villains with the blackest of hearts cry.

"Surely you understand," you argued back. "To love something so much, you'll continue to do it even if it kills you."

Though you didn't have a strong or flashy quirk, you made it up in your abilities in ballet. Pouring your heart and soul into your performances so even the untrained eye would be able to tell you aere the best at what you did.

You touched him like the fire that was dancing in his veins. The thing that consumed him aside from his needs for vengeance. Though he knew that obsession ran deep in his genetics. It was just something he never thought would hit him until that night he first saw you.

"That's because perfection doesn't exist."

His breath hit the shell of your ear, hot just like the rest of him, yet it sent shivers down your spine. "Yet here it is in the form of a little dancer."

You could tell how bitter it made him. You understood the feeling well. Every ballerina knew how it felt to be rejected and pushed to the side whenever a younger, prettier dancer came in and took the place they spent years working to get.

"Were you ever warned?" He mused. "Some hero or fuckin rich pig with too much time on his hands could ever use their power and money to snatch you up?"

Of course you were, and you hesitantly nodded your head. Nobody ever thought it would happen to them until it actually did. Hell, Dabi bet his mother thought she'd never wind up in an arranged marriage with his father, abused and locked away in an institution after making her have four children with him.

"I'm my father's son, after all." His scarred hand ran down your smooth cheek, down your chin until it wrapped around your throat and pinned you against him, his other arm snaking around your waist. "Men like us, when we see something beautiful, we have to own it, keep it for ourselves."

"You don't have to be like him." You protested, your heart racing in fear. Dread filled you at the thought of him taking away everything you spent your whole life working for.

"And you don't have to be a dancer." He retorted. "Sometimes we don't have a choice in life (Y/n). Now you're coming with me."

You tried to pull away despite his hand wrapped firmly around your throat, threatening you. "No! You can't do this! I have to perform tonight. I have to-"

"This is a lovely place," he cute you off. "Something even I could appreciate." His grip on your neck tightened as he held his other hand out, making you watch as bright blue fire appeared out of his hand. "Such a rich history. It would be a shame if it all went down in flames."

You weakly nodded your head, bursting into tears as you looked at the stage, the theater, your home on last time as he let his flame die out. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. His strong arm held you in place with ease as he walked away.

"Don't worry," he said softly, his smile wide and twisted as you cried. "You can still dance for me."

[disaster-writer]

Tear You Apart (Prequel)

Pairing: Dabi x Reader x Shigaraki

Summary: Before you had found out who had been drugging you, Dabi had invited Shigaraki to come and watch one of these occasions

Word Count: 3.6k

Rating: X 18+

Warnings: Dark fic, smut, noncon, drugging, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masochism… dead dove: do not eat

A/N: This is a prequel, read the first part here —>

Tear You Apart (Part 1)

Dabi took a long drag on the cigarette that hung loosely from his fingers before blowing out, the smoke billowing in front of him.

He looked over lazily at the male companion he sat with at the bar.

”You like her~” he lilted, mocked even, watching Shigaraki stare over his shoulder at the pretty woman that sat in the booth in the back all by herself.

”Like who?” He asked, not bothering to look away.

It made Dabi scoff, “Don’t play dumb, makes you look like a fuckin’ idiot.” He muttered, taking another drag.

It was odd being trapped in this limbo, not knowing what the fuck to do as the days passed, waiting for Shigaraki’s master to tell them what to do next.

But at least some of the fuckers in the league were out searching for recruits for once and the ones that weren’t were already asleep.

It was just Dabi and Shigaraki.

And you all alone in the back.

”She’s falling asleep,” Shigaraki idly commented, watching your eyes fluttering shut and then open every few seconds.

Dabi looked over his own shoulder. 

You were falling asleep.

He then looked at your drink that you completely drained.

”She had two drinks tonight,” Dabi offered as an explanation.

”She doesn’t drink alcohol. They’re mocktails.”

Dabi sucked on his teeth, “Someone pays attention, huh?” he taunted.

It pissed him off how much Shigaraki paid attention to you. Dabi was never fond of sharing.

”She said she used to be an alcoholic,” he added.

He may as well have been removing the staples from his seams and peeling the flesh back himself with how deeply he was getting under his skin.

”Or it’s just fuckin’ late, speaking of which, maybe you should go to sleep too. Huh Shiggy? Heard we had another long day of doing fuck all.”

Dabi needed him gone, he was already cutting into his schedule for the night by hanging around, staring at you.

”We have a meeting in the morning,” he muttered into his shoulder. His unwavering eyes never leaving your huddled form, curled up in the booth. “Someone should take her to her room.”

”And by someone I’m sure you’re talking about yourself, huh?” He muttered, stubbing out his cigarette in the ash tray, “Wanna try touching little miss ‘can’t touch me’ don’t’cha.”

”She has clothes on. It wouldn’t hurt.”

”Just trying to cop a feel then?”

Shigaraki didn’t respond.

Dabi tapped the bar impatiently, he was really starting to get on his nerves. 

Fuck— why didn’t you just go to your fucking room before falling asleep like last time. 

He guessed he was lucky that more people weren’t around, at least he knew Shigaraki’s thoughts were just as depraved as his… actually he wouldn’t put it past the fucking creep to think up even more disgusting shit than he does.

Dabi looked back over his shoulder.

You were asleep.

Shit.

You drank a lot of that shit tonight, the pineapple juice he spiked being the base of both drinks. He’d be lucky if he was able to get you coherent at all.

He looked at Shigaraki and he was still just fucking staring.

Dabi needed a plan to get you into your room.

Ah, fuck it.

Dabi turned back towards the bar, fingering the rim of his own empty glass.

”I slipped her something.”

At that Shigaraki was looking at him for the first time the entire night.

”Why?” 

He didn’t seem put off, just curious.

Fuckin’ perv.

“I conducted a little experiment of mine the other night and I wanted to do it again.”

”What was it?”

”I wanted to see what would happen if I touched her.”

Shigaraki eyed him. Dabi looked fine and he had listened in on some of your own depressing stories growing up, like how your mother stabbed herself to death in front of you after you touched her or how you watched a dog ram it’s head against the side of a building until it died, after you tried petting it as a child.

He didn’t remember Dabi going through any bizarre episodes like that.

“What happened after you touched her?” 

Dabi looked up from his glass, looking right into those little beady red eyes of his, “I fucked her.”

“How?” He breathed out, curiosity bleeding from the single word.

He started scratching his neck.

“Come with me and I’ll show you.”

”Okay.”

Dabi stood up, hands shoved in his pockets as he made his way over to your curled up body, sleeping with your head against the wall.

He slid in beside you as Shigaraki stood off to the side awkwardly.

”Hey, crybaby,” Dabi hummed. He grasped your shoulder, pulling you to lean on him instead.

You didn’t even hum, still fast asleep.

Fuck, you were really out of it tonight. But you were so pliable right now he couldn’t be too stressed.

”Crybaby?” Shigaraki asked.

A knowing smirk painted Dabi’s lips, “You’ll find out.” 

There was no point spending time right now trying to wake you, so instead he slipped back out of the booth, managed to pull you towards the end before hooking an arm under your knees and around your back, lifting you out of the booth.

”Let’s go,” Dabi muttered to Shigaraki as he began walking towards your room.

Shigaraki followed after, staring at your face as your head hung back with no strength to hold it up.

His cock stirred.

Reaching your room, Dabi shouldered the door open and Shigaraki shut it behind him.

Only a dim lamp was on, lighting up the room.

Shigaraki didn’t look around, he didn’t need to. There had been more than one occasion he had slipped inside while you were out quirk training, to lay in your bed… to touch himself while surrounded by your scent and the things you’ve touched with those wonderfully destructive hands of yours.

Dabi walked over to your bed, laying you down flat on your back, seating himself between your legs, dragging his hands over your clothed hips and thighs.

“Sit down or something,” Dabi snapped at Shigaraki, “I don’t need you looming over my shoulder like a fuckin’ creep.”

”I want to see you touch her.”

”You can do that from the floor you freak.”

He sat down, a bit too close for his liking but Dabi let it be. 

Dabi leaned over you, raising his hand and smacking your cheek a couple times. “Time to wake up crybaby.”

Shigaraki watched in curiosity, Dabi didn’t seem to be in any pain from touching your cheek. “Did that hurt?”

”Yeah,” Dabi grinned, watching your heavy eyelids trying to peel back, “It fuckin’ hurts all right.”

You groaned, deep in your throat as your head lolled to your shoulder. “Da… Dabi…” you murmured, trying to focus your tired eyes on him.

“That’s right baby, enjoy your nap?— hey, no“ he smacked your cheek again, harder this time as your eyes started drooping. “Look who’s joining us tonight,” he pushed your head to the side, making you look at Shigaraki.

Your face screwed up cutely, you were just so confused, “Sh.. Shh,” was all you managed to get out.

”I know,” he said condescendingly, “It’s a hard name to say. But that’s okay, you only need to know mine tonight.” He dragged his hand down, squeezing your tit and pulling out a surprised grunt from you. “Let’s get you out of these ridiculous clothes, always wearing this baggy shit.”

He pulled you up, holding up your dead weight as he started yanking your hoodie up, pulling it up and over your head, body slumping back down against the futon as it came off.

You had no bra on, leaving you in your gloves that you always wore and your sweatpants.

Shigaraki’s hand twitched as he eyed your tits.

”Ah, ah, ah,” Dabi tsked, noticing the movement from the corner of his eye, “Can’t touch remember.”

Shigaraki was getting annoyed, “Why can you?”

He ignored him, hooking his fingers into your sweats and panties, pulling them down your hips and legs until they flopped back down around him.

You groaned again.

Then came your gloves. 

And that woke you up— or at least as close you could come to waking up in this state.

”No, can’t,” you grunted, trying to pull your hands from Dabi’s grasp, “Can’t,” you whined louder.

“There you go,” Dabi sighed, pulling the second glove off, “Feel better without all those clothes?”

You were completely naked but Dabi had barely touched you, and it was pissing Shigaraki off, but he’d admit the sight of your perky nipples in the cool air did something to cool off the annoyance simmering deep within.

“Touch her,” he ordered.

Dabi raised a brow, looking at him for the first time since coming here, “You saying that as my boss?”

”Yes,” he hissed, starting to scratch his neck again.

”Fine. You got it boss.”

Dabi sighed, rolling his shoulders back. He pulled his jacket off, tossing it behind him before pulling his shirt off, tossing it at Shigaraki with a laugh who only decayed it without a word as it landed in his hand.

”Funny ain’t it?” Dabi asked, hovering above your sleepy face. He looked over to Shigaraki, “You can’t touch her because you’re both the same side of the same coin, but us,” he looked back down to you, nose almost brushing against your own, “We’re two sides of the same.” He dipped down, locking his lips with your own.

He groaned loudly against your mouth, a sharp, piercing pain erupting throughout his mouth, radiating outwards, needles being threaded in and out of his skin. They stabbed his eyes and eardrums.

It made his fucking cock throb and he needed more.

He licked into your mouth, swallowing all the little whimpers you emitted, panting into yours as he breathed through the pain.

His hands ached as they dragged along your sides feeling a sharp, stabbing pain as if two knives had been stabbed straight through his palms and he dragged them down, down, down.

You whimpered, body jolting in shock at the feel of him cupping your cunt.

You shook your head, pulling away from the kiss and looking to the side as your breathing began picking up.

Dabi started kissing down your neck instead.

Your eyes opened, looking all over the room before landing on Shigaraki.

His breath hitched as he watched you, hand slowly moving towards his crotch.

”What… What’s happenin’” you asked, staring at him with such large, watery puppy eyes.

Shigaraki stared at you, he had never seen an expression like this on you. Lost, vulnerable, seeking comfort, assurance. He started scratching harder. “Dabi’s going to show me how he fucks you, crybaby—“

Dabi tsked, “Come up with your own fuckin’ pet name.”

Your eyes lolled in your head, landing on the fluffy mane on Dabi’s head.

”How—“ you cut yourself off with a gasp, hips jerking.

Shigaraki’s eyes snapped down to where his hand disappeared between your legs. “What are you doing?” He asked impatiently, trying to inch forward and see what was going on, now grasping his cock through his pants.

Dabi dragged his lips up to your ear, “Shiggy wants to see how I make you feel good. You wanna show him your cute little pussy, show him how you cream around my fingers crybaby.”

Tears started falling, too overwhelmed by what was going on and not being able to grasp any of it.

He sat back up, leaning away from you but keeping his fingers inside. 

Shigaraki’s eyes widened, taking in every last inch of your perfect pussy, “Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth, shoving his hand into his pants watching as Dabi played with you. “Does it hurt inside?” He asked, not being able to keep the curiosity at bay. He often wondered, when he lay in your bed and stroked his cock, if the inside of your cunt would hurt as much as the outside must’ve.

”Fuck, yeah it does,” Dabi breathed, placing his thumb on your clit. “It’s like her pussy’s full of fuckin’ razor blades.”

Your hips jerked again at the sensitive little button being played with.

They both watched every little reaction you made with rapt attention. You wriggled weakly, attempting to get away as each whimper and sweet little moan climbed higher in pitch. Your fingers curled weakly against the bed sheets, head tilting back.

Shigaraki sucked in a breath. “I think she’s gonna—“

You were cumming, hips weakly humping the air, grinding against Dabi’s hand with every stutter.

”That’s it baby,” Dabi encouraged— patronized. His free hand stroking your hip. Shigaraki didn’t miss the way his hand twitched as he touched your skin. “Feels good don’t it?”

Your breathing was labored as you fell steadily from your orgasm.

Shigaraki stared intensely at the way your pussy clenched as Dabi dragged his fingers from you, covered in a shiny wet gloss, sticky strings connecting his fingers to your cunt.

”Let me taste.”

Dabi cocked his head towards Shigaraki, lifting a brow, “Finding loopholes already—?”

”Just let me taste,” he spat.

With a roll of his eyes, Dabi was reaching his hand out, to which a very eager Shigaraki shuffled forward. He grabbed Dabi’s wrist, lifting his pinky finger high in the air as he shoved his fingers into his mouth.

He sucked them clean, moaning at the taste. He had never tasted pussy before and it was intoxicating. He swirled his tongue around both digits, licking and sucking every last drop of your heady taste from his fingers.

”Alright,” Dabi scoffed, yanking his hand from Shigaraki mouth and tight grip, wiping his spit off on your futon,“I’m pretty sure you got it all.”

”Fuck her,” Shigaraki hissed through his teeth, smacking and licking his lips.

Dabi turned back to you, ”Hear that crybaby? Shiggy wants to see how I rail this pretty little pussy,” he started undoing his belt, “Ready to put on a show?”

You looked at him tiredly, eyelids drooping, watching but not really watching as he stood up and took off his pants. Your glassy eyes stared at his cock with no recognition behind them. 

You had no idea what the fuck was going on.

Realizing just how lost and weak you were had Shigaraki’s hands trembling as he undid his own pants to pull his cock out, gripping it the only way he alone ever has.

Dabi may have been able to touch you, why and how he may never know, but Shigaraki understood you in a way he never could.

You and him were one and the same.

Both his and your hands left a trail of carnage wherever you two went.

He barely registered Dabi moving, situating himself in a new position to fuck you silly, Shigaraki was too enraptured by those lost, glassy eyes. 

He could’ve gotten off to that look alone. He would’ve if it wasn’t for Dabi’s annoyingly raspy voice pulling him from his thoughts.

”If you wanna last more than two minutes, you may wanna slow down there boss-man.”

Shigaraki tsked in response.

Dabi was laying himself beside you, gripping your waist and turning you onto your side. He was acclimating to the pain, the sharp, stabbing sensations you caused to wrack throughout his body and make his head spin was dying down.

He was ready to take more of the punishing sensations only you could give him.

He pressed his chest flush against your back, causing another pleasantly painful thrum throughout his body, making his cock twitch against your ass.

He was hooking his hand behind your knee, opening you up, spreading you open with one leg raised in the air baring you so Shigaraki could see every detail, complete and undeniable proof that he was the only man that could fuck you like this.

Complete and undeniable proof that you belonged to him.

And if he was going to put on a show then he was going to make sure it was a worthwhile watch.

He bent his knee, hooking your leg over his as he lined himself up with your cunt. The sensitive tip against your gummy hole felt like a needle was being shoved through it.

He looked down at you, your glassy eyes stared at Shigaraki.

He grabbed you by your cheeks and turned your head, “Eyes on me,” he grunted, staring down at you as he lifted your leg again.

His heart started pounding against his ribcage as he remembered what happened the last time he shoved his cock deep inside you. The way he came without any ounce of self control, as if your cunt knew exactly what it wanted.

He stared down at your teary eyed face and sucked in a breath.

He drove his hips forward in one fluid motion, completely sheathing himself inside you, pushing past the resistant muscles in your cunt.

You cried out at the sudden pain and intrusion as Dabi shook and trembled beside you, hips spasming before stilling, emptying his balls into you.

”Ah—fuck,” he groaned raspily into your ear, pain and pleasure blending into one full bodied sensation, rendering him completely useless as he fell to the mercy of your cunt.

His head was hazy, barely registering a single fucking thing Shigaraki was going on about. 

He was done for if you ever figured out how much power your pussy had over him. He never wanted to be in another cunt ever again.

His eyes started focusing on your face once more, reveling in the tears that streamed down your cute little cheeks, and the way your pouty lips blubbered with sobs. 

He dipped down, meshing his lips with yours in another bruising kiss, drool leaking between your lips as you continued to cry into his mouth.

Dabi lifted your leg again, high into the air as he started shallowly thrusting, overstimulated and already starting to get hard, your unforgiving cunt barely giving him a chance to think clearly between orgasms.

He shoved his tongue down your throat, messily licking and moaning into your mouth.

Dabi completely forgot about Shigaraki practically kneeling over him, getting as close as he possibly could to the futon you were both on.

He was staring— leering at the point you two were connected. He watched as Dabi’s cock disappeared and reappeared inch by inch in your greedy cunt, Dabi’s creamy white seed gushing out of you the more he pumped his cock inside.

Shigaraki had to grip the base of his cock tightly so he wouldn’t cum too soon.

Dabi slowly started to increase his pace as he started to somewhat regain some of his bearings.

Fuck— the sounds.

Shigaraki moaned pitifully, leaning forward on one hand as the other matched the pace of Dabi’s thrusts on his own cock, listening to the wet slaps of skin on skin. 

If he focused hard enough he could imagine it was him that was fucking you, getting ready to blow his load in your tight cunt instead.

There was blood, tinting the white mess pink.

”’M gonna cum,” Shigaraki choked out at the sight, “‘M gonna cum on her.”

Dabi released your mouth, a string of saliva still connecting the two of you. “Wait til ‘m done.” He grunted, “You better fuckin’ hold it.”

”I’m your boss remember?” He hissed, stroking his cock faster, “I give the orders.”

”When you can put your crusty fuckin’ dick in her without keeling over, then you can give all the fuckin’ orders you want. She’s mine.”

It would have been so easy to reach a hand out and touch Dabi— watch him decay before his eyes.

But given the circumstances and the fact that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to touch you the way Dabi could, he didn’t.

Now that he had this he couldn’t just go back to watching you around the LOV base— he couldn’t go back to only touching himself in your bed while you were out.

A particularly loud moan escaped you as Dabi angled his hips.

”Fuck, that it crybaby? That feel good?” He grunted, full attention back on you now.

He started fucking into you harder, jackhammering his cock against your g-spot.

Yours, Dabi’s, and Shigaraki’s moans and grunts bounced off the walls of the room along with the slick sounds of his cock thrusting in you to create a lewd cacophony. 

You were suddenly shaking and crying harder than before, digging your nails into the futon.

Dabi threw his head back and cursed, fucking you through your orgasm as you squeezed his cock like a vice.

Shigaraki nearly came as you squirted all over the futon.

Dabi was cumming soon after, adding more to the mess between your legs. 

The moment he came down from his own high he was pulling out in seconds, the feeling of you too intense and overstimulating now that he came twice.

”’M gonna cum on her face,” Shigaraki moaned, shuffling upwards, kneeling above you with his cock shoved inches from your face.

You stared up at him all teary eyed and lost, panting and shaking from your climax.

Seeing you part your lips, trying to say his name was all he needed to cum. White strings of sticky seed painting your pretty face and hair as his vision went white.

Refocusing his eyes he found the depraved scene before him.

It was enough to make his cock twitch again.

You sniffled, laying there covered in both his and Dabi’s cum 

“I want to touch her, how do you do it,” he panted, continuing to stare at your cum covered face.

”You don’t,” Dabi grunted, shaking beside you.

He grit his teeth. Both hands came up to scratch at his neck as he stared down at you with unforgiving eyes, watching you trembling before him. A hostility towards you and the body he couldn’t touch began growing deep within him.

”Then get it back up and fuck her again.”

”Whatever you say boss.”

[yanderenightmare]

Dabi x darling x Hawks

TW: NSFW, noncon, war, soldiers, married reader

AN: kinda inspired by when British Parliament passed the Quartering Act in 1765, and those in the American colonies were required to provide housing for British soldiers, and how they were also expected to provide food, firewood, and even beer.

fem reader

Thinking about old-timey soldiers Hawks and Dabi who knock on your door with their caps in hand, plastic smiles on both their faces when asking for a warm homecooked meal – knowing you can’t refuse by order of the King.

It’s a humble cottage more than it’s a house, but the two men make themselves at home while you slowly stir the stew you’ve whipped up for them – only halfway of your own free will. 

Hawks asks where your husband is, and you point to the love letters displayed on the mantle and tell them he’d been called away seven months ago. 

Dabi then asks if you’ve been lonely…

You try and laugh it off as though it was a charming thing of him to say – but you’ve been feeling apprehensive ever since you opened the door – seeing their hands casually resting on the weapons by their hip as though in silent threat.

You sit with your hands in your lap while they eat. They say they’ve missed the sweetness of a woman like you – that the lads back at base don’t know how to do it the same way. And you know they’re talking about the food, but still… you can’t help but feel they’re insinuating something else.

You scream when they grab you – but it’s not like they expected anything else from a married woman – of course, a good wife would give anyone who isn’t her husband some fight – but like any woman, you’re quickly subdued by the two of them. 

Their smiles are still eerily calm, even as you cry – utterly unmatched by their actions, where they squeeze into all your plush parts with unwarranted strength.

Hawks hugs you from behind, forcing your arms behind your back – his crotch planted firm against your rear, even through all the thick layers of your skirt. 

Dabi is in front of you. He ripped open your blouse in the struggle – now whistling at the pretty sight of your tits while stroking his revolver up the crane of your neck, poking it into your cheek before using it to brush a wisp of hair out of your face – pretty and riddled with tears while you snivel and whimper.

He takes your chin in a strong hand, his tone smooth while he tells you to calm down – as though he's not got his loaded fire weapon aimed at you. His nose brushes yours as he croons at you through a smile – giving your quivering lips a quick peck.

Hawks’ tone is just as suave – playful even, grinning toothily, chuckling out how they just want to thank you for the hospitality as he quickly tugs the wool of your dress up, balling it all around your waist. Petting your cunt through your bloomers with your wrists gripped firm in his other hand, pinned tightly to the small of your back.

Cutlery, plates, and cups crash to the floor when Dabi swipes to clear the table – sending you hips-first against it.

The nose of his gun jabs into your nape, forcing your head down until your cheek smudges the splintery wood.

He doesn’t bother retraining you, letting the threat of his bullets do to all the talking while he unbuckles his belt, letting his uniform drop around his ankles.

He rips a gash in the thin cotton of your bloomers. They look too cute to remove. Not frilly like rich maidens wear, like in those catalogs the men will pass around if not pictures of each other's girlfriends. Yours are worker class, probably sewn by yourself from some old curtains – not meant to be erotic, but made so erotic because of it. 

You’re just a simple farmer’s daughter making your country proud – is what he whispers in your ear when he has two fingers stuffed up your cunt.

It’s obvious you haven’t been fucked in a while – the two digits make you wince and, in turn, make him restless to give you the real thing. He can tell just by the buck of your hips it’s going to feel the same as fucking a virgin.

You’re quickly wet like one, too. Makes it easy for him to slide into your tightness despite your teary whines. 

He lets out a heavy groan when you’ve taken him to the hilt – stays nestled there for a minute – in reverence of the tight, wet warmth he hadn’t felt in a while.

Sure, he and Hawks might have done things on cold, long, lonely nights, but nothing can quite compete with the softness of a woman in his mind.

Those precious ways you tighten up and shake from the stretch, shuffling your thighs when he kneads into your womb – soaking him with wet velvet slick.

His gun goes lazy against your back, though still very much keeping you scared in place as he lolls in and out of you at a languid pace – his chin tipped up with a sigh.

But it’s only initial relief – and once it dies down and the hunger spurs anew – he’s got his lips at your ear and his gun in your mouth – crude things flying off his lips, hips thrusting against you with the same haste of a hound in his rut – saying if he were your husband, he’d never leave your cunt and cooking – that he’d pick being buried six inches deep between your thighs than six feet deep in the dirt – sucking your cheek while telling you not to fret long over your man – how he and Hawks will help you grieve when the love letters stop coming.

The blonde is busy looting the liquor cabinet while Dabi ravages your poor cunt – but he comes back to switch with him once he finds the most expensive bottle.

It was a wedding present you’d been saving, one you’d thought you’d open the day your love would return – but Hawks cares little for the etiquette and swigs it raw from the stem as he retakes his place behind you – bathing his thick shaft with the slick sheen on your inner thighs before pressing himself inside you.

He doesn’t bother to start slow – he’d been kept waiting long enough and goes straight to pounding you deep. Kicking your legs apart – a hand buried in the cake of your ass to steady you whilst the other grips the bottle.

The table is small. Meant for only you and your man – so perfect for bending you over – just intimate enough to allow Dabi to stand at the other end with his cock in your mouth.

The whole thing wobbles against the floor as the two men have their way. 

They deserted from their battalion a long time ago and have both grown pretty tired of house-hopping – and this place seems far enough removed from where anyone would bother looking for them. 

Who knows, maybe they’ll stay until the war is over. 

♡ DABI - TODOROKI TOUYA masterlist ♡ HAWKS - TAKAMI KEIGO masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

[animeyanderelover]

Hi, can I request Chae Yul, Dabi, Itachi, Giorno Giovanna, Narancia Ghigra, Leone Abbacchio, Douma and Tomioka Giyu with a very shy s/o ? S/o tries to have as little as possible eye contact with the yandere and tries to be as far away as possible? They also try to cover their faces when they are very embarrassed.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive relationship, obsession, stalking, clinginess, manipulation, isolation, jealousy, social anxiety, insecurities, violence, death

Very shy s/o

Itachi Uchiha

🍡Your extremely shy nature is as obvious as it can get and has caused Itachi to feel multiple times a day concerned about you even during his stalker phrase. You’re socially awkward and lack experience as you tend to stick with the things you’re familiar with out of fear to embarrass yourself so the eventual abduction is the worst situation you could be confronted with. Itachi is as understanding as he can be though, is patient and doesn’t try to force you into any more uncomfortable situations. You need time to at least get a chance to adjust but whilst he doesn’t confront you, he at least shows up long enough to let you see that he doesn’t plan to harm you. Itachi definitely feels more protective and there’s this possessive urge at times to keep you completely for himself and to take charge over your life as you have troubles voicing out your opinion. He snaps mostly out of it though, even goes as far as encouraging you to speak up more.

Dabi

🔹Dabi finds the struggles of his s/o and their shyness just freaking adorable, especially since it’s such a strong contrast to his own personality and the ones of the people he surrounds himself with. Seeing you struggling to talk to others or speak up is such a cute sight to see, stalking you and seeing you troubling yourself with concerned thoughts never fails to lift his mood. Whilst it is cute seeing you being insecure and shy by yourself, the sight of someone making you uncomfortable has his blood boiling and everyone who dares to make his little mouse shy will burn for it. He knows that an abduction will surely only worsen things for you but he doesn’t give a fuck about it. You’re such a breath of fresh air in his life, too pure for someone like him but the taboo of it makes it all more exciting. He attempts to make you a bit more comfortable around him though but at times he makes you purposely nervous to see your reactions and tease you.

Tomioka Giyu

🌊Giyu isn’t really any better than his s/o, he just manages to be more stoic and hide his emotions better than his s/o does. There’s this feeling of anxiety and nervousness when Tomioka gets the chance to spend time with you though as he doesn’t know what to say or how to express his feelings for you. The end result is always this awkward silence where you try your best to keep your distance and avoid eye contact. Initially when Giyu notices, he’s worried it’s because of him. After some stalking observing, he comes to realize that you’re just naturally very shy and not because you’re intimidated or uncomfortable around him hopefully. Your shy nature stresses him at times out though since he’s almost always worried that he might do something that may make you uncomfortable so he becomes hyper aware when he’s around you, secretly desperate to gain some of your affection. He can’t help the increase within his protective nature though, if someone makes you feel anxious he will step in.

Douma

❄️Possibly one of the worst when it comes to a very shy s/o. Now, in Douma’s eyes his darling is nothing short of adorable. Every little reaction has his heart fluttering wildly in his chest, every shy word spoken has him enraptured. He dotes excessively on you for your shyness, spoils you with all the riches he can give. Unfortunately Douma lets his sadistic streak show as he forces you into uncomfortable situations with him only to see your shyness and witness the way you avoid eye contact, stutter and pinch your heated cheeks whilst cooing over your sweetness. Whether he violates your personal space or asks you gruesome and weird questions. It should be pointed out that Douma is awfully possessive though. You are only for his eyes and everyone else who either gets a glimpse of your adorable personality or makes you a bit anxious will be beheaded on the spot. For that sake Douma keeps you isolated as everything about you should only be his to savor and cherish.

Giorno Giovanna

🐞Some may think that this should be forbidden. Giorno himself understands though. The unlikelihood of two people so vastly different as someone like you should never be involved with the likes of him. Ultimately Giorno won’t stay away from you though as he’s possessive and partially delusional too. Unlike the force and power he holds, he approaches you normally though as he hides who he is from you in an attempt to charm you and have you falling in love with him naturally instead of straight up forcing you. He takes advantage of your shy personality though as he knows that you feel nervous to approach new people and starts manipulating your surroundings so you end up spending a lot of time with him and only him. Whilst your shy reactions around him might be adorable at first, it’s important to him that you feel comfortable around him. Giorno is fairly patient and suave with you but you have an abduction coming eventually for you.

Leone Abbacchio

🍷Abbacchio is hit with feelings of insecurity and shame as he can’t help but feel like this should be illegal. You’re without a doubt the purest and softest person he’s ever met and normally he would have frowned at your behavior. But all it really took was your sensibility and your caring nature to make him fall for you as you showed him more kindness than the majority of people he knows. He doesn’t deserve you, it’s something Leone tells himself daily as you don’t fit within the grim lifestyle he leads. He doesn’t want you to find out who he really is for the sake of keeping what he has of you in his life now. He’s a bit dependent on the slices of kindness and nurture you give him, especially since he knows that you have troubles socializing due to your shyness, a trait which overwhelms him at times. Abbacchio turns very vicious and aggressive around others if they make you anxious, follows you around more than you should know as his protective streak makes it hard for him to not do nothing.

Narancia Ghirga

🧡Narancia overdoes it when it comes to his darling due to the clear inexperience in general when it comes to the concept of loving someone romantically. He's never really met someone as shy as you before either and frankly spoken, that leads to some misunderstandings, especially since he's paranoid. Your shyness is mistaken as fear as you can't keep eye contact with him and always keep a good distance between you two. Narancia, assuming that you don't want to be with him, takes for that the wrong path as he starts following you around even more, invades your privacy and tries desperately to gain your attention until he can't take it anymore and bursts out in tears in front of you, blaming you for not even giving him a chance and begging you to accept him. Even after he has understood that you're just a very shy person, he turns only worse with those around you as he starts threatening everyone as soon as you look remotely uncomfortable and smothers you with his presence and affection to make you feel protected.

Chae Yul

💜Chae Yul might find your shyness adorable later on but as long as you keep avoiding him and his gaze, you really trigger the worst inside of him. Yul is addicted to your thoughtfulness and your kindness you show him, especially during the days where he is bullied. He starts to believe that you two only need each other and his obsession really starts kicking in after he realizes that you're someone who has troubles adjusting to new people and new situations, hence why he makes sure to keep you away from others. You only need him and he makes it significantly hard for you to form new bonds since he's clingy and follows you around everywhere, convinces you to stay with him and threatens and scares everyone else away, paranoid that you might get close to someone. He's already boiling with jealousy if he realizes that you have less troubles looking at someone and talking to them which only results in him guilt-tripping you with tears into showing him affection, he won't allow anyone else getting in between you two.

[baby-tini]

Okay, okay, so this is kinda touching on religion, so if you're uncomfortable, please ignore this!!

But I can just imagine Dabi shoving his dick down the reader's throat, knowing she's super religious, saying something like "I am your God now," and before she can reply, shoves it deeper.

Im a simp and I'm not apologizing for it.

No, because I can definitely see this... also I'm fine with writing religious things, don't worry. I do want to say that, I support all religious beliefs and this is not meant to offend anyone, it's all fiction. TW: religious themes, noncon blowjob, yandere Dabi, Dabi has a God complex, disrespect and mocking of said beliefs, implied kidnapping. Dabi thought your beliefs were stupid, he pitied you for your beliefs to someone who would never answer them, they would never come save you. He looked at like, those naive people who still looked up to heros.. they didn't care about you, so what's the point in devoting your life to someone that allowed a monster, like Dabi, too take you away from everything that you once knew. Allowed a villian to break you down and use you for his own selfish desires. He'd watch you pray to a God that never saved you, cause if they cared, you wouldn't still be chained to the bed, stuck in a cycle of naive hope, waiting for someone, you should know by now, wouldn't help you. "I'm gettin' tired of this doll, you'll get on your knees for a non-existent God.. but not for me?" He scoffs, watching you pray on your knees, hands folded on the bed. Standing in the door way with a scowl he walks over to you, pulling you up by your hair. He sits on your bed as he makes you stand in between his spread legs. You try to pull away, you really do, slapping at his hands and trying to back away. It just doesn't work though, with a couple harsh slaps to your naked thighs, your attempted fighting subsides. "Try and pull away again, see what happens." His eyes are narrowed, the bright cerulean now a dark admiral blue, sharp eyes waiting for you to step out of line as his hand tightens in your hair. His free hand coming to wrap around your throat, causing you to bend, face to face with him. His eyes fly over your face as he grins, pulling you down harder so that your situated on your knees. He looks down at you, a faux pout on his mis-matched lips. The hand on your throat eases up when you completely stop struggling, running the hand in your hair, down your face, petting your cheek as he laughs. "There we go, pretty girl... just stop fighting, hm? Be good for me, It's so much more filling to behave for me." Moving both hands to your face, he rubs his thumbs over your cheeks, in comforting circles as he coos at you mockingly. Keeping a hand on your jaw, he unbuckles his belt with the other, popping open the button as he unzips his pants, slightly pulling down his pants and boxers, just enough to pull his cock out. There's an immediate attempt to pull away on your end, wiggling away as he squeezes his hand harder around your face. "Ah ah, you like it on your knees so much, praying to bullshit.. you'll love worshipping my cock then. I'm your new God now, you'll serve me, whether you like it or not." He places the leaky head on your lips, tapping it on your bottom lip before the hand on your jaw squeezes, causes your lips to open slightly and he pushes in. Moving both his hands through your hair, making you bob your head, his grip unyielding on your hair as you gag. His pre cum slipping down your throat causing you too choke as your eyes squeeze tight. "Don't. Look your God in the eyes as he cums down your throat, show him how much you appreciate him.'

[temptacioun]

yandere ! dabi

requested by anon

prompts: “if you don’t kiss me i’ll slit your fucking throat.”

it started like any ordinary day.

you were sitting in an office room, ready for a job interview and completely unaware of the bank that was being robbed next building. and while you hadn’t seen him, he definitely saw you.

so fucking pretty in your little blouse and pencil skirt, he wanted to rip a hole into that pantyhose you wore and make you cry pretty tears for him. it started like this, with attraction and tight pants — he followed you home later, though he stayed in the dark of the shadows. for now.

dabi wouldn’t explain his sudden interest, shoved the nagging feeling to the back of his brain and countered with the fact you just had a sweet ass. and as he watched you for days on end and learned your routine, his obsession only grew. it wasn’t love he felt, but a need to possess you in every way possible. maybe it was a need to destroy your seemingly perfect life, to watch you crumble to the ground with nothing left.

one by one he picked off your friends, threatened to kill them and left burn marks where nobody would see — and you could only wonder why everyone suddenly stopped talking and hanging out. your weekends grew lonely and boring, and left an emptiness inside that you couldn’t explain.

it was one of those weekends when he finally decided to show himself, sprawled out on your couch like he owned the place while he listened to the shower running. he’d take you home tonight.

you couldn’t even scream when you saw him, it was like your brain went off and left you to face the danger on your own. you’ve seen him before, when they showed the news on tv and you were already certain this was how you’d die. they’d find you days later, burned to a crisp.

“took ya’ long enough.” his raspy voice reached your ears and you shook, knees feeling wobbly while you stared at him with wide eyes. when he stretched, and sauntered over to you like it was completely normal. a hand against the wall and trapping you there, you couldn’t even beg for your life.

the male chuckles, reaching out to tip your head up with the tip of a knife he’d stole from a certain blonde. “i’m not gonna kill ya. but you’d probably wish i did.” you’re not sure if he was serious or not but the threat alone was enough to keep you meek in his presence. he leans closer and you squeak, eyes squeezing shut instinctively and he relishes in the fear that radiates off of you.

his lips hover just short above yours, you can feel his breath fan over your cheeks — you can smell the faint scent of cigarettes and burnt flesh and it almost makes you want to puke.

“if you don’t kiss me i’ll slit your fucking throat.”

and the threat is enough to make you comply.