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The League of Villains planning their attack strategy is just Toga and Twice drawing a map of the area in crayon and Tomura and Spinner using legos they made to look like the league members to show them their positions— and they are dead serious about it the whole time while they all argue about the plans and keep moving the little lego figures around aggressively.

All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI

Camboy!Shoto who got into filming porn on a whim, another form of rebellion against endeavour.

Camboy!Shoto who was so shy to start his career as a pornstar. The idea of letting the world see his vulnerable side making him rosy.

Camboy!Shoto who started anonymously, a new twitter account, promoting an adult site. Paired with a picture of Shoto, face hidden and torso exposed. A rather casual looking photo, till you look closing, crimson tide surging onto his chest. Pert nipples that are a lovely shade of red. Thin little waist, with defined muscles. His cum gutters defined, aligned with his cock. So much so that you know when water drips down his body, the drop ends at the top of his cock. His cock, tenting his loose pants.

Camboy!Shoto who goes from teasing his fans with little exposing pictures to fucking his fist on camera.

Camboy!Shoto finds playing with hard dick, on camera, too embarassing but does it anyway.

Camboy!Shoto who moans the loudest when humping into his dark navy pillow.

Camboy!Shoto who takes his side hustle to work when him, when he uploads a video jerking off in a grey suit on maroon couch.

Pro hero Shoto who cums ropes on glass table in his office. Who paints the floors in his room white. Who continues to jerk off his cock, till his tip is angry red and his cum dry.

Pro hero Shoto who always comes to work an hour later on Mondays because of his Sunday night duties.

Pro hero Shoto who thinks he is slick when he builds a separate room for his camera gear. Who only ever films in his office when he knows that the floor is empty.

Pro hero Shoto who has mastered the art of camera angle and people can never really connect that camboy Icyhotshot is Pro hero Shoto.

For some reasons, Asuka's speech almost made me cry LIKE IMAGINE LOSING ALL OF YOUR FRIENDS AND UOU HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THEM TO LITERALLY THE WHOLE WORLD 💔

WARNING!

This fic is not suitable for minors. It contains sexual relationships, accidental pregnancy, substance abuse, withdrawal, and addiction. This is a sequel fic.

Chapter 8

The New Hero Billboard Chart

The auditorium set up for the Hero Billboard Chart announcement is massive. You catch Hawks mingling with some of the pro-heroes and sidekicks who’ve already arrived, one of whom is Best Jeanist who spots you first. He whispers something to Hawks who turns and waves you over.

“Ready for your speech?” he asks.

Best Jeanist adds, “I must say, Asuka-san, I’m looking forward to hearing what you will announce today.”

“Thanks,” you reply awkwardly. “I’m ready. Just a little nervous.”

“Did All Might help you with it?” Hawks asks.

“No,” you snap. Yes, he did. Very enthusiastically, too.

“Is it safe to assume this is a special announcement?” Jeanist guesses.

“Not special in the way you’re thinking.”

Hawks scrunches his face and grumbles, “Jeanist-san, we talked about this.”

“My apologies. I shouldn’t have assumed,” he says.

You groan. “Ugh, it’s okay. Just stop bringing it up. I don’t need people overhearing.”

“Overhearing what?” Miruko approaches the small group.

“Asuka wrote a speech for the Hero Billboard Chart announcement,” Hawks says, trying to cover any lingering embarrassment.

“A speech, huh? Well, that’s impressive. Are you gonna talk about your recovery from villain activities and how Hawks giving you a job at the PSC reformed you?” she teases.

“Oh yeah, how’d you know?” You’re pretty sure your sarcasm doesn’t come off in Japanese very well.

“Lucky guess,” she replies.

“Alright, alright, everyone settle down and take your seats. We have a few things we need to do before we begin,” Hawks says, shooing the pro-heroes away.

Best Jeanist tries to offer him some encouraging words, but the denim laced proverbs don’t land well with Hawks who just looks at him confused.

You wander to the bathroom and use it quickly. You touch up your makeup and fix your hair, making sure you look professional for the camera. All of Japan will be watching, and it’s the first time you’re making a public appearance. The thought makes your stomach churn. Outside of the bathroom is a full-length mirror. You look at your body, smoothing over any wrinkles in your blazer. You look the same as you always do, but you’ve heard the camera adds weight anyway. 

“You look fine,” Hawks says, approaching you. He puts his hands up in defense. “Not a compliment, just an observation.”

“Thanks,” you say softly.

“If you’re too nervous, I can give the speech on your behalf.”

“No. I have to be the one to do it. They’re my words. It has to come from me.”

“I understand. You’re going to do great, by the way.”

You hum softly, looking back at yourself in the mirror. You notice him staring at you, and you look back at him.

“I believe that you’re a good person, and when everyone sees you today, I hope they see what I see,” he adds.

You notice how he stands a bit too closely. His cologne smells manly and expensive, and you want to joke that the people watching the broadcast will probably be able to smell him through the TV. His piercing golden irises capture you, and you remember the way you felt when you first saw them—how terrifying he could be. Yet, it’s not the same as then. He grew warmer with you, and even now after everything, he’s gentler.

He’s done this many times as a hero, but it’s his first time orchestrating the whole ordeal. I wonder if he’s nervous too.

“I hope so too,” you say. “Show me how to get backstage?”

He smiles and leads you down the hall to the back of the auditorium. You peak out at the crowd. Pro-heroes and their sidekicks from across the country fill the seats with many standing and mingling about. You pull out your phone and quickly search up the venue and its capacity. 

Seats 4,500. There’s about 4,500 people out there.

Blood rushes to your ears as the sound of chatter fades to a dull throb. Suddenly, your whole body feels hot. Your mouth runs dry, and it hurts to swallow. Your heart and mind race as so many thoughts run through that you can’t sort them out. The lights become blinding, and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“Are you alright?” Hawks asks, coming to your side.

“That’s a lot of people,” you say.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and guides you to a chair nearby. 

“Just breathe, it’s okay.” He chuckles softly. “I didn’t think you were someone who got stage fright.”

“I’m not. The last time I was in front of such a big crowd was when Tomura announced the League of Villains and Meta Liberation Army team. It just brought back all of the feelings.”

“I see. Well, this is different. Those aren’t villains out there,” he says, trying to be reassuring.

“That’s the problem. I’m about to declare members of the League of Villains as heroes to a crowd of like four thousand pro-heroes and sidekicks. And, on national TV.”

“Are you expecting me to talk you down from doing it?”

“No!” you protest. That isn’t what you want at all. “I just need to calm down.”

“I already told you that you’re going to do great, so there’s no need to worry. You decided that you needed to do this and you insisted this was the way to make change. I’ll be honest, you might not get the best reaction, but there are still people supporting you.”

You hum in thought, letting his words sink in.

Hawks kneels down to look at you. “I support you too.”

His hand finds yours and you feel the rough scars again. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before quickly pulling away and standing. He clears his throat and it’s hard to see his face in the dark lighting backstage.

“It’s almost time to start, so I’ll get you some water.” He leaves you sitting there.

What was that all about? you wonder.

You thumb through your note cards, quickly reading through them to distract yourself. One of the backstage crew brings a bottle of water over to you, and you sip it to calm your nerves. After a few minutes, the crew relays the “places” called by the stage manager. You find Hawks again and stand by him. 

When one of the assistant stage managers backstage relays the “go”, Hawks walks out onto the stage first. You watch him with slight jealousy when the crowd roars in applause, knowing you definitely won’t receive the same reaction. With charismatic swagger, he struts right up to the podium.

“Greetings everyone. I know many of you traveled far for this and have been waiting with [...] for even longer. The Public Safety Commission has been busy undergoing many changes, and the result is something I’m proud to share with you today. My staff and I have been working tirelessly to bring you the new and expanded Hero Billboard Chart.

“Recently, our country was devastated by certain events. We all felt the [...] and destruction it brought. It left many feeling hopeless. Today, I present to you the new rankings following those events.”

The crowd cheers loudly. The screen behind Hawks lights up with animations to present the chart. He starts with civilian aid, presenting names as honorable mentions. People who helped with the medical teams and clean up events, then he moved on to announce police and firefighters who helped during the battle as well before finally going through not only the top ten pro-heroes, but the top fifty as well as their sidekicks. The whole ordeal lasts for two hours. It feels like both forever and only a brief moment as your heartbeat pounds in your ears. When it felt like you finally calmed down and caught your breath, you hear Hawks’s speech to introduce you.

“A special segment of the Hero Billboard Chart has been added exclusively for tonight. My assistant has curated it for this moment, so please give her your full attention,” he says.

For a moment, you thought you hallucinated his words, but he smiles warmly at you and claps along with the crowd. His confidence seems to carry their enthusiasm and your nerves as you step foot onto the stage. The audience’s cheers quickly shift into hesitant and awkward claps. You walk up to the podium as Hawks takes his leave. He still smiles warmly as he watches you from off to the side. Even out of the lights, you see the wink and thumbs up he gives you for encouragement. 

Your throat suddenly feels dry, and swallowing makes you cough on your spit a little. You clear your throat to regain your composure. The crowd is silent as they watch you with anticipation.

Just like I practiced, you tell yourself.

“A little over two months ago, the nation watched a teenage boy reach his hand out. His actions and words have echoed through the nation, many people taking them to heart. The first step to being a hero is caring about someone else; reaching out to them when they need it most. 

“Most—if not all—of you have heard my story already. Many of you are still wondering who I am. I’ve taken the time to create this list for the Hero Billboard Chart to honor people who need it the most. These are people who I believe are heroes in their own right, and they’ve influenced me to be here today.”

The screen behind you flashes and your own name pops up with the number ten next to it.

“Despite being pardoned, I’ve moved my name from the civilian list to this one. Based on merit points, I should be much higher, but there is a reason for all of this. I will not forget my origin, and the reason I’m standing here today to deliver this message is because of the people above me.”

The next name that flashes causes the crowd to gasp. Number nine: Bubaigawara Jin. Villain name: Twice.

The crowd begins to murmur. You know the list only grows in controversy as it goes on, so you tailored your speech perfectly.

“While he was not actively involved in the Final Decisive Battle, it was his death that pushed many villains across the nation to act. Many of you heard that he was killed in order to prevent mass casualties on the hero's side. The truth is, he was killed trying to save his friends, the League of Villains.”

You feel a lump in your throat, but you swallow it and continue. “He has no family left to mourn him, but we did. This is to honor him as a man who, if given the chance, could’ve lived his life freely and happily, being a hero to those he loved.”

The screen shifts to the next person. Number eight: Sako Atsuhiro. Villain name: Mr. Compress.

“The Final Decisive Battle was planned strategically and thoroughly by only vetted individuals. I was included in this. What people don’t know is that part of the strategy was told to me by Sako Atsuhiro. It was because of his ideas that the task force was able to put a plan of action together.

“As well as this, he saved the remaining members of the League of Villains at the Battle of Jaku by using his quirk to maim himself, allowing himself to be apprehended by the heroes, so we could escape safely. I wouldn’t have been given the chance to be saved or to take part in the Final Decisive Battle if it weren’t for him.”

The video shifts to the next name, and you flip to your next note card. Number seven: Iguchi Shuichi. Villain name: Spinner.

“Many of you are familiar with Spinner for his part in rallying people with heteromorphic quirks around the country. While his message may have been twisted with violence, his pain was real and felt deeply amongst thousands of people across the nation. His efforts have re-sparked the push to ban exotic animal cafes, and a hope to rid the plague of quirk discrimination. 

“Moments before he was apprehended, passing out due to extra quirks given to him by All For One that were destroying his mind and body, he reached out to an ally saying ‘let’s save Shigaraki and the others.’ Even when all he could do to keep living was breath, he pushed through the pain, still caring about others. 

“This leads me to the next person on this list.”

Number six: Kurogiri. Real name: Shirakumo Oboro.

“Shirakumo Oboro died as a UA student. His body was stolen by All For One and turned into the nomu called Kurogiri. His task was to protect and care for Shigaraki Tomura, and up until the very end, he did just that. His last words to me were: ‘Asuka, I must protect Shigaraki Tomura.’ He then told All For One to give Shigaraki’s body back and that his friends were waiting. 

“I knew Kurogiri from my time living with Shigaraki Tomura. He often cooked us dinner or bought meals for us. I’ve heard that Shirakumo Oboro was a person who always reached out to those in need, and that sentiment transcended his life. Kurogiri, despite being a nomu, defied his master to save the person he was tasked to care for for fifteen years. Shirakumo Oboro died as a UA student, but his spirit lived on in the body of Kurogiri, who died trying to save Shigaraki Tomura.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your shaking hands. The next part is the easiest to announce.

“The next three individuals made this list based on their former villain associations. Although they’ve all been pardoned, their heroic actions saved many lives during the Final Decisive Battle.”

Number five: Tsutsumi Kaina. Villain name: Lady Nagant. 

“Despite receiving life-threatening injuries from a quirk All For One gave her, Tsutsumi Kaina left the hospital to join the battle and aided heroes on the scene. Her bravery could be chalked up to her former career as a pro-hero, however, Tsutsumi showed that no matter what, the moral of a hero lies within the soul.”

Number four: Manami Aiba. Villain name: La Brava.

“It was with Manami Aiba’s intellect and swift computer skills that kept our communications with the heroes on the scene clear and concise. When our comms were hacked, she worked quickly to restore them. Her aid was a necessity in the Final Decisive Battle. Followed by her proud lover.”

Number three: Danjuro Tobita. Villain name: Gentle Criminal.

“Danjuro Tobita was stationed at what we called the Coffin in the Sky. He was tasked with keeping the massive vessel afloat. It was his efforts that kept it from crashing to the ground, which would’ve caused a devastating impact. He saved many lives and prevented mass destruction.”

You shuffle the index card to the back, revealing the second person on your list. Knowing the last two are the most difficult to announce, you take a deep breath, waiting for the crowd to settle a little more before you proceed.

Number two: Toga Himiko.

As expected, the crowd chatters again, this time more loudly.

“Oi, are you just listing your villain allies to make yourself feel good?” someone yells.

“I know this one is shocking to everyone, but I ask everyone to remain calm while I finish,” you continue. “What nobody knows is that Toga Himiko gave her life saving UA student Uraraka Ochako by giving her her blood. The last thing she ever did was save another person’s life. It wasn’t caught on camera, but her heroic act shouldn’t be taken to the grave with her. 

“Himiko was more than just my friend, she was my little sister. All she wanted was to live freely as herself.” You feel yourself begin to choke up as tears prick your eyes. “She died saving someone she loved. And all I hope is that in her final moments she had a smile on her face, because she had the most beautiful and warm smile of anyone I ever knew.

“By now, you all can assume who is the first person on this list. You’re probably wondering how he even made the list at all. Many speculations about who he was have been circulating in viral videos online. The comments are all from strangers, people who didn’t know him. So, I will tell you who he was.”

Number one: Shigaraki Tomura. Real name: Shimura Tenko.

“I’m not going to stand her and justify any murders he committed or any destruction that happened at his hand. I’m not going to do that for anyone on this list. Shigaraki Tomura was the first friend I made after coming here from the Vortex Quirk Incident. He was my best friend, and I love him dearly. He was someone I could fight with like a sibling. We would have petty arguments about what to eat for dinner and using the last of the toilet paper and not replacing the roll, and how it’s morally wrong to invite minors into a villain association—it’s okay, you can laugh. It’s funny.”

A few people do chuckle softly in the audience, but it’s awkward and quickly cut off. You continue then, “To all of you, he became a symbol of fear, but to me, he was just some guy I lived with. He’d help me study Japanese. He’d let me watch him play video games, and occasionally he’d let me play with him. He taught me the proper way to eat soba. When the drugs wore off and I’d start to remember where I was and all the pain it brough, he’d let me lie my head against his shoulder or his lap, until I fell asleep.

“To me, Shigaraki Tomura was my best friend. And he was my hero. He made life worth living when I was at rock bottom. He was a light for me when I was in the dark. He’s number one on this list because his last words to Midoriya Izuku were to take care of me. Even as he was dying, he thought about the League of Villains, and wanted nothing more than to be our hero.

“While each member came to the association for their own means, each of us stayed because of him. He was our precious leader, and through him, we had a cause. We had a reason to fight. We wanted to change society. We wanted it to be a place where we could live happily. I will honor his memory by continuing that fight. As a member of the PSC, I will make sure to reach out to the most vulnerable of our society, so that no one has to bear the pain he did his whole life.

“I want to give an honorary mention to two people not on this list. Firstly, to my dearest big sister, Mag-nee. She had a dream of living as her true self. She was a proud transwoman who wasn’t accepted by society, and she was killed by another villain. I also want to give an honorary mention to Todoroki Touya, who saved me from being killed by other villains on multiple occasions. 

“While I have personal connections with a majority of people in this chart, I selected them for these reasons. I’m aware of the controversy this will cause, but please keep in mind the message of all of this: if the first step to being a hero is caring about someone, then all of the people I’ve mentioned are heroes. And, you can be a hero too, by listening and caring for those around you.”

The crowd is absolutely silent as you finish, stunned by your words. You can’t tell if that’s a good or bad thing. Suddenly, clapping from the front row catches your attention. You look and see Best Jeanist standing to applaud you. The others around him follow suit, albeit awkwardly as their discomfort settles in. You retreat off the stage, shaking from the blend of nerves and adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your vision is blurry as your head spins from the rush.

You hear Hawks at the podium speaking to the crowd. “That concludes our service for this year's Hero Billboard Charts. We will be tracking acts of heroism diligently from here on out.”

The crowd applauds him as he walks off the stage. You try to find a place to sit in the corner in a vain attempt to settle down. You swoon, but before you even lose balance, Hawks is right there. He wraps his arms around you before easing you down into a comfortable seated position on the floor. His hands are warm as he holds your waist, but the sudden coolness of the air replaces it as he pulls away. He’s still kneeling by your side, and you feel your body heat up again as he beams.

“You did well, seriously,” he says. “There’s going to be a lot of [...] following this, but I hope it will help pave the way for future reconstruction plans.”

“What?” you ask.

“I just mean whatever plans you have. You want to help rebuild society, right?”

“Oh, yeah, that.”

It’s all too confusing and you’re lost on what he’s talking about; your mind only focusing on his close proximity. 

He stands. “I have to go make a public appearance and talk to some reporters. If they ask any questions, I’ll do some damage control so don’t worry about it.”

Hawks leaves you then. You take deep breaths to calm yourself. You’re unsure of how long you’re sitting there, but Best Jeanist approaches you.

“Hawks asked me to take you home,” he says.

You rise, following him quietly to his car parked in the back away from the crowd of reporters and hero fans. 

You stare out the window, scenes of destruction passing by. Most of it has been sectioned off with construction cones in the efforts to rebuild everything. 

“Did I make a mistake?” you wonder out loud.

“It was a bold move, I won’t lie—one almost as [...] as when low rise jeans came back into fashion again. However, Hawks believes in you, and as the new president of the Public Safety Commission, I have faith in him, so I have faith in you as well,” he says.

You hum in thought. “I want people to have faith in me outside of his influence.”

“I understand, but like all denim trend cycles, it takes people time to warm up to them.”

You sit with his words, trying to make sense of his jean related proverbs. As he pulls up to Toshinori’s house, he bids you farewell. You step inside and find Toshinori waiting for you on the couch.

“How did it go?” he asks.

The comfortability of his English makes the home feel warmer, as if you can drop the mask you’ve created for yourself.

“It was terrifying,” you say honestly, sitting next to him.

“You did well, kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“I know, I just meant—”

“I know, sorry, I didn’t mean to sound snappy,” you apologize. “It’s been a long night.”

He places his hand atop of your head. “I mean it.”

You look at him for a moment, wanting nothing more than to melt into the comfort of someone. Toshinori has gone out of his way to try and make you comfortable in his home. He’s done so much to try and bring some normalcy back into your life. You now legally hold his last name even. His gesture feels inviting. It’s not awkward like you’ve felt previously. You crumble under it, curling up into his side, allowing yourself to seek his comfort and praise.

“Hawks said that you disagreed with expanding the Hero Billboard Chart,” you mention.

“I did,” he admits, “but I also think that your additions could prove beneficial.”

“You don’t think I was wrong?”

“I think some of it may have been vanity to praise your friends, but to be honest, you saw sides of them that no one else did. We’re all human, afterall.”

“You’ll just say anything to make someone feel better, huh?”

He snorts softly. “That’s not entirely true. I do want you to feel better though. It was your decision to do this, and since you’re my—I mean, we’re legally family now, so I’m going to do my best to support you.”

He was going to say ‘daughter’ wasn’t he? you muse.

“I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You peel yourself away from him, and once again you feel the way the air shifts around your body with the lack of warmth. 

As you turn to walk down the hall, you turn back to him. “Thank you, Toshi.”

He gives you a soft smile before clicking resume on the TV program he was watching. You watch him for a moment, taking in the serenity of the mundane act. Your new normal brings you another step forward into your new life.

Tag list: @janex12 @xxjesshuxx @evalineplayz19 @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @NyxNightshade7656 @failuredecore @rwura

Chapter 7 ⬅️🐦➡️ Chapter 9

Chapter m.list

This work is copyright ©️ 2024 chaos-night. Do not re-upload!

Warnings: smut w/o plot, riding c*ck, doggy style, creampie, oral (f & m receiving), dom!Dabi, Dabi is a warning himself, overstimulation, mentions of dick piercing

Synopsis: you decide to surprise your villain boyfriend with a uniquely sinful way to celebrate his birthday

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

You never imagined love would come so easily — let alone with a villain. As a pro hero, it was the last thing you expected, yet here you were, your heart defying everything you thought you knew about right and wrong.

A grin spread over your lips as you heard a familiar knock to the door of your spacious apartment — three short taps, slow, deliberate, and unmistakably his. You smirked, barely having time to smooth your silky robe over your skin before crossing the spacious apartment. Opening the door, you leaned casually against the frame, giving him a slow once-over. 

Dabi stood there, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, his usual smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His turquoise eyes scanned you, a spark of interest flickering when he caught the way the silk clung to your curves. “Mmmm, look at ya, all dolled up. What’s the fucking occassion?” Dabi mused. “You expecting someone else, or am I the lucky guy?”

“You know damn well you’re the only fucking one,” you shot back, tilting your head with a sly grin as you raised a brow, feigning innocence as your fingers toyed with the sash of your robe. “Happy birthday, Dabi,” you murmured, stepping aside to let him in.

“Nice place,” he commented, his tone lazy as he stepped in. It was his first time in your apartment. “Didn’t think a pro hero like you would invite a villain into her fancy, little world.”

You shrugged, closing the door behind him. “Consider it a birthday gift. I figured you’d prefer this over balloons and cake.”

“Depends on what’s under that robe,” he shot back with a chuckle.

You grinned, backing up into the open living room, deliberately letting the silk fabric shift over your ass as you walked. 

His eyes darkened, and you felt the heat of his gaze lingering on your body. 

Turning to face him, you reached for the tie of your robe, holding it loosely in your fingers. “Want your present now, Mr. Villain?”

Dabi chuckled, “If you’re offering, Mrs Heroine.”

With a slow tug, the robe slipped off your shoulders, pooling on the floor around your feet. 

Dabi’s reaction was immediate — his smirk vanishing, replaced by a sharp inhale through his teeth.

You were wrapped in black lace, the intricate set hugging your curves in all the right places - a barely-there bra and tiny panties that revealed more than they should. 

His eyes immediately zeroed in on the crimson ribbon tied snugly around your waist, the delicate bow resting just above your navel. 

“Damn,” he muttered, his voice dropping an octave. “Didn’t think you’d actually dress up for me, doll.”

“You like it?” You teased, turning around so he could see the way the ribbon trailed over your hips.

“Like it?” He stepped forward, closing the distance between you in a few long strides. His hands found your waist, his thumbs brushing the edge of the lacy bra as they moved upwards. “You’re making it really hard not to rip it off right now.” His hands found your hips soon, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against the softness of your skin. He tugged on the ribbon lightly, watching the fabric stretch and tighten before letting it snap back. His smirk widened as you gasped. “You naughty, little slut,” Dabi murmured, lowering his head to kiss the column of your neck. He tugged at the material of the ribbon again, the fabric slipping loose in his fingers.

“Hell yeah I am,” you shot back, your voice steady despite the heat pooling low in your stomach.

He gripped  your hips as he pulled you flush against his chest, his breath was hot against your ear when he growled, “I’m gonna do some dirty things to you tonight.” Dabi’s mouth crashed into yours, his kiss fierce and consuming, leaving no room for hesitation. 

You tangled your fingers in his white, unruly hair, pulling on it. Before you could respond after the kiss was broken, he hoisted you up, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as he carried you to the nearest surface. He dropped you onto the couch, his hands braced on either side of you, his smirk returning as he took you in. Dabi’s knee slid between your legs, spreading them just enough for him to slip a hand beneath the lace of your panties. “Mmmmm, fuck. Already so wet,” he muttered, his smirk audible in his voice as the rough pads of his fingers rubbed little circles around your slick folds.

“D-Dabi…” You whined softly.

Dabi shrugged off his coat, tossing it aside before leaning down to claim your lips again. His kisses were hungry as his fingers kept on rubbing your pussy sill covered by your panties. 

When he broke the kiss, a thin string of saliva still connected your lips, glistening in the dim light of the lamp that was set in the corner of the room. Dabi’s piercing gaze dropped to you, a wicked smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. His fingers found the waistband of your lacy panties, tugging them upward with a slow, deliberate motion. The fabric pressed tightly against your slit and clit, the friction sending a sharp jolt of sensation through your body. 

You arched your back, instantly rolling your hips. “H-hey, not fair!” You whined.

Dabi’s smirk deepened as he tugged the fabric again, the pressure drawing another soft gasp from your lips. His eyes flicked back up to your face. “Who the hell told you I’d play fair?” he asked simply. 

Before you could muster a response, he repeated the motion, dragging the damp fabric slowly against your sensitive clit with maddening precision. Each tug sent sparks shooting through your core, your breath catching as pleasure curled deep inside you. 

He watched every flicker of pleasure crossing your face with growing amusement. “That’s it,” his eyes dropped to the growing damp stain on your panties, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Look at that. You’re already soaking through.”

He tugged the fabric taut once more, holding it firmly in place this time, just long enough to admire the way your folds glistened, slick and inviting. His smirk darkened, a predatory gleam lighting his sharp turquoise eyes as his free hand slid up your thigh with deliberate slowness, fingers brushing over your trembling skin before settling on your hip. “You like this, don’t you? Me not playing fair?”

The gravelly edge in his tone combined with the insistent pressure of the fabric against your throbbing clit left you breathless. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, desperate for something solid as your legs spread wider to grant him better access. With a shaky nod, you managed to meet his gaze, your voice barely a whisper as you confessed, “Yes.”

"Good," he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice a low, gravelly promise. "Because I’m just getting started."

With a sudden shift, his hands gripped your legs firmly, hooking them over his shoulders with ease. In one smooth motion, he tugged your panties down your thighs, the cool air kissing your bare skin as he slid them off completely.

He straightened slightly, holding the delicate fabric in his hands, inspecting it as though it were a prized trophy. His eyes, sharp and half-lidded with desire, flicked to you, a wicked chuckle rumbling in his chest. Without hesitation, he brought the panties to his face, inhaling deeply. “You smell fucking delicious,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust.

You felt your cheeks turning red.

Dabi shoved the panties into the pocket of his pants, his smirk curling higher as his gaze locked on your face. “Mine now,” he teased, his tone low and rough, every syllable dripping with possession. “Gotta keep a souvenir.”

Dabi wasted no time, his movements deliberate as he spread your legs wide, his grip firm on your thighs to hold you in place. He paused for just a moment, his piercing eyes meeting yours with a look that sent a shiver racing through your body. Then, without hesitation, he leaned forward, his head dipping between your legs.

The first stroke of his tongue was slow and broad, dragging over your folds with unrelenting precision. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips as the heat of his mouth sent sparks of pleasure shooting through you, your legs instinctively tensing against his hold. 

Dabi alternated between teasing, languid strokes of his tongue and hard, deliberate suction on your clit, each movement drawing out a symphony of soft moans and ragged breaths from you. Every lick, every kiss, every brush of his mouth was calculated yet feverish, as if he was intent on tasting every inch of you. “Doll,” he murmured against your slick skin, his voice low, “You taste even better than I imagined.”

Heat pooled low in your belly as your hands gripped the couch cushions tightly, your back arching instinctively to press your pussy closer to his mouth. Every nerve ending lit up under his touch, the tension in your body coiling tighter with every flick of his tongue and every groan that rumbled from his chest.

His moans vibrated against you, a low, guttural hum that sent shivers racing up your spine as his tongue swirled expertly around your clit before flicking it in rapid, teasing strokes. 

The faint scrape of his staples and scars against your inner thighs only heightened the sensation, a sharp reminder of the dangerous man holding you completely at his mercy.

There was no reprieve as his fingers joined the fray, one calloused digit sliding into you with ease. He curled it upward with deliberate precision, finding that spot inside you that made your breath hitch and your pussy tighten around him. He smirked against your folds, his satisfaction palpable as he drew out another desperate sound from your lips. Without hesitation, he added a second finger, stretching you just enough to leave you trembling. His movements were unrelenting, his fingers thrusting in and out of you with a steady rhythm while his mouth never left from your clit.

“Dabi…” you whined, rolling your head back.

“You’re gonna come for me, aren’t ya, doll?” he rasped, his smirk growing as he watched your body arch toward him, trembling with the mounting pleasure. 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond, diving back in with unrelenting fervor. His tongue and fingers moved in perfect synchrony, crafting a rhythm that had your entire body taut with anticipation. The wet, obscene sound of his fingers plunging into your soaked pussy echoed through the living room, mingling with your breathless moans and the deep, satisfied growls rumbling in his throat. “Come on, princess,” he rasped, his voice a dark, velvety whisper that sent shivers straight down your spine. His lips brushed against your slick skin as his fingers curled just right, his tone dripping with wicked intent. “Cum for me. Let me feel you fall apart.”

Your brain was barely working at that moment. Your hands moved on their own, sliding upward to cup your breasts, desperate for any outlet to channel the overwhelming pleasure. Your fingers teased the stiff peaks of your nipples through the delicate lace of your bra, tugging and pinching lightly as sparks of sensation shot through every nerve ending. Your hips moved of their own accord, lifting and lowering in perfect time with the relentless pace of his tongue and fingers. 

Dabi’s tongue moved with relentless precision, circling your clit before sucking it into his mouth with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the couch. The rough texture of his tongue contrasted perfectly with the slickness covering your folds.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he growled against your skin, his voice low and ragged, dripping with satisfaction. “Keep moving like that, doll. You’re gonna come so fucking hard f’me.”

Unable to ignore the ache any longer, he shifted slightly, grinding his crotch against the couch in search of some relief. The bulge in his pants was painfully tight, pressing hard against the rough fabric of his jeans. But he didn’t stop — his focus stayed firmly on you. The sight of your trembling hands teasing your own body, the way you gasped his name like it was the only word you knew, only made him rut harder against the cushion, his breaths coming in shallow, broken gasps. He kept on lapping fervently at you, completely consumed by the taste of your juices.

Your hips bucked wildly as the tension inside you reached its breaking point, your breath catching in your throat as your thighs trembled against the sides of his head. 

Dabi’s tongue moved with relentless precision, flicking over your swollen clit in rapid, teasing strokes.

“Dabi—” you gasped, his name spilling from your lips in a desperate cry as the pressure shattered into an overwhelming wave of bliss. Your back arched off the couch, your head tipped back as your orgasm crashed over you, unrelenting and all-consuming. Your walls clenched tightly around his fingers, the slick heat drawing a deep, guttural groan from him that vibrated against your sensitive core.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice rough and dripping with desire. His tongue slowed, lapping gently at your clit as he worked you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last tremor until your body sagged against the cushions, spent and trembling.

Dabi finally pulled his fingers from your soaked heat, moving with an agonizing slowness that made you shudder. He watched intently as your pussy fluttered at the emptiness, his turquoise eyes darkening with wicked satisfaction. Spreading your folds with his index and middle fingers, he exposed the glistening mess he’d left behind, your juices trailing down to your entrance. A low, dark chuckle rumbled from his chest as he tilted his head, his sharp eyes gleaming with amusement. “Look at this,” he muttered, his voice a husky growl, thick with smug satisfaction. “You’re dripping everywhere. So fucking pretty like this, little heroine.” Without hesitation, his tongue darted out, tracing the path of the slick, runny juices that spilled from you. He dragged it slowly, deliberately, over your entrance, savoring every drop like it was the finest thing he’d ever tasted. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” Dabi whined, his voice low and rough, vibrating against your sensitive skin. He kissed your pussy again, his tongue flicking over your clit in a teasing caress before he added with a wicked grin, “But what a fucking way to go.”

You were a moaning mess beneath him. And you loved every second of it.

“You taste too fucking good,” Dabi growled. He flattened his stitched tongue, dragging it slowly over your folds. His calloused fingers spread you wider, holding you open with a firm grip, ensuring not a single slick thread of you escaped his attention.

The overstimulation caused your body to twitch beneath him. “Dabi!”

When Dabi was satisfied with his work, he began a slow, deliberate ascent up your body. His tongue left a cool, damp trail on your overheated skin, sending shivers coursing through you as goosebumps rose in its wake. His lips lingered over your trembling stomach, pressing teasing kisses before moving upward. He paused at your chest, his sharp teeth grazing along your ribs with just enough pressure to make you gasp softly.

Finally, his mouth claimed yours in a kiss that was nothing short of ravenous. His tongue slid against yours, deep and commanding, and the faint taste of your own release on his lips sent a wicked thrill through your being.

Your hands moved instinctively to his belt. The faint clink of the buckle was lost beneath the sound of your ragged breathing. Your fingers worked deftly, unfastening the fly of his pants. The moment you freed his cock, it sprang into your hand, heavy and warm as you wrapped your fingers around his length. Your palm moved in slow, deliberate strokes, tracing every vein from base to tip. 

His response was immediate — a deep, guttural groan rumbling from his chest, his head tipping back slightly as your touch unraveled him.

“Shit,” he muttered, his voice a low rasp that sent heat pooling in your pussy again. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

At the same moment, his hand slid beneath your back, his fingers deftly unclasping your bra. He tugged it off your shoulders and tossed it aside without a second thought. His mouth latched onto one of your nipples, the warmth of his tongue swirling over the sensitive peak before he sucked hard, pulling a sharp gasp from your lips. His other hand claimed your other breast, his thumb brushing teasingly over the neglected nipple before giving it a light pinch, just enough to make you arch against him.

The combination was electric, his hot mouth and calloused, skilled hands setting every nerve in your body alight. The pleasure coursing through you was so overwhelming that your grip faltered briefly on his cock, your strokes pausing as your focus splintered.

“Don’t stop,” he commanded against your tit. “Keep going.” To emphasize his words, he flicked his tongue over your nipple again, the teasing motion sending another jolt of heat straight through you. His teeth grazed the sensitive bud before biting down gently, just enough to make you gasp again.

Your head tipped back in surrender.

Without missing a beat, he moved to the other tit, his lips and tongue lavishing it with the same relentless attention. 

Your strokes on his length quickened, your hand gliding smoothly from base to tip with deliberate intent. Each motion pulled a raw, guttural groan from his throat, the sound vibrating through the air like a melody only you were meant to hear. 

His hips began to move in time with your touch, rolling into your hand as if he couldn’t help himself. “You’re driving me insane,” he rasped, his tone a low, gravelly whine. “I don’t know how the hell you do it, but fuck, I can’t get enough of you, you little slut.”

With a surge of determination, you shifted your weight, using every ounce of strength to roll with him. 

The sudden movement caught him off guard, his eyes widening briefly before his back hit the couch.

Now straddling him, you looked down, a satisfied smirk curling your lips as his expression shifted to one of wicked amusement. Dabi's hands slid instinctively to your hips, gripping them firmly as he murmured, “Well, look at you, taking charge now. Let’s see what you’ve got, sweetheart.”

You didn’t waste time with a reply, your actions speaking louder than words as you tugged his pants down his legs with purpose. The fabric slid away, pooling forgotten on the floor as your hand moved to wrap firmly around the thick base of his cock. It pulsed against your palm, a tangible reminder of just how undone he already was. You started with slow strokes, your grip tightening just enough to coax a reaction. 

It didn’t take long — his hips twitched instinctively under your touch, a low, strained groan escaping his lips as his body responded to your every movement.

“Fuck,” he rasped, his voice rough and shaky, his half-lidded gaze locked on your hand as it worked him over. “You really know how to take your time, don’t you?”

You gave him the sweetest smile, leaning forward to spit on the tip of his cock. Jerking him slowly, you spread your saliva all over his shaft.

His smirk faltered into a low groan.

Shifting to kneel between his thighs, you leaned down, stuck your tongue out, and flicked it against the sensitive tip of his cock after pushing the foreskin back, gathering the bead of precum that had already formed there. The salty taste of him on your tongue made you moan, and Dabi’s sharp intake of breath only spurred you on.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and ragged, one hand gripping the edge of the couch while the other reached for your hair. His fingers tangled in the strands, not to control you, but as if he needed something to anchor himself. “Now, suck my cock, angel.”

Smirking to yourself, you opened your mouth and took him in slowly, letting your lips stretch around his girth. The groan that ripped from his throat as the warmth of your mouth surrounded him was enough to make your pussy clench. You moved with intention, starting with shallow bobs that teased the head of his cock before gradually taking him deeper, your tongue pressing firmly along the underside of his shaft, teasing the palpable veins there.

“Shit,” Dabi hissed, his hand tightening slightly in your hair. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you, the sight of you on your knees between his legs, your mouth working him over, nearly undoing him, made him shiver. “You’re gonna make me lose my goddamn mind, doll.”

Dabi’s cock twitched in your mouth, and you hummed around him, the vibrations drawing another curse from his lips. Using the tip of your tongue, you teased the frenum piercing that decorated his cock, and then you took him whole in your mouth, deep-throating him, letting the tip of his cock tease the back of your throat.

He cursed again.

You began to pick up your pace, hollowing your cheeks as you took him deeper with every stroke, your tongue swirling around his girth. Your movements became more deliberate, your lips sliding down his length with increasing fervor. Your tongue traced the pulsing vein along the underside, each flick and swirl drawing ragged groans from Dabi as his hips began to snap upward, chasing the heat of your mouth.

One of your hands cupped his balls, rolling them gently in your palm while your other hand wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking in time with the bobbing of your mouth. 

“Fuck, doll,” he growled, his voice strained, his chest heaving as he watched you. “You’re too damn good at sucking cock, you fucking, little slut. Gonna make me lose it.”

You hummed around him, the vibration pulling another curse from his lips. His cock throbbed against your flattened tongue, a clear sign he was close. You kept your pace steady, wanting to draw him to the edge, relishing the way his body responded to your every touch.

But just as you felt him begin to tense, his breathing turning ragged, Dabi pulled you off him with a sharp tug on your hair. 

You gasped softly, your lips slick and swollen as you looked up at him, his darkened eyes blazing with lust. “Not like that,” he rasped, his voice dark and commanding. “The only place I’m cumming tonight is inside that tight little pussy of yours.”

You didn’t hesitate, nodding as you sat back, giving him room to shift. His hands were already on you, pulling you forward until you were straddling his lap again. “You want it, don’t ya?” he teased, his voice low as he grabbed your hips, guiding you just enough for you to feel the tip press against your slick hole. “Say it. Tell me you want me to fill your cunt up.”

“I want it. I want you to fuck me senseless,” you whispered in the most seductive voice, making sure to grin your pussy against his cock.

His smirk returned, dark and satisfied as he lined his dick with your entrance, pulled your hips down slowly, his cock stretching you inch by inch as he entered you. A low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest as he sank into you, his grip on your hips tightening. “Good girl,” he muttered, his head tipping back as he buried himself completely inside you. “You feel so fucking good.”

“Dabi!” You moaned at the sweet sensation of being stretched. Reaching hand out, you gently rubbed his cheek. “I love you.”

Dabi didn’t say it back. He never did. Instead, his hands gripped your hips tighter, his half-lidded eyes locking with yours as he rolled his hips forward in a slow, deliberate thrusts. 

The stretch of his girth was overwhelming, your body trembling as a low groan escaped your lips. 

“If you can’t handle it,” he rasped, his voice gravelly and thick with lust, “leave it to me. Snuggle up, doll.”

His hand slid up your back, guiding you until your face was buried in the crook of his neck, your warm breath brushing against his scarred skin as you lay flat on top of his chest. You clung to him, your nails digging lightly into his shoulders.

Then he started thrusting.

The first thrust was sharp, knocking the air from your lungs, and before you could recover, he set a punishing rhythm. His hips snapped upward, driving into you with a force that had you gripping him for dear life. The wet sounds of skin meeting skin filled the room, punctuated by his low, guttural grunts.

“You feel that?” he growled, his lips brushing your ear as his cock slammed into you again, the tip kissing your cervix with every stroke. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

You tried to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. Each thrust stole the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping and trembling in his arms. Your pussy clenched around his cock, every movement dragging his girth against your velvety walls in a way that sent sparks shooting through your nerves.

“D-Dabi!”

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he stated, his voice a rough groan as he buried himself deeper, his pace unrelenting. “You’re taking me so well. Like you were made for my cock.”

Your hands slid up his shoulders, your nails scraping against his skin as you held onto him. You couldn’t moan, couldn’t speak, your body reduced to incoherent shivers and gasps as he fucked you with ruthless precision.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “Falling apart already, huh? Guess I’ll have to keep this pace until there’s nothing left of you.”

His hips drove into you harder, the angle perfect for his cock to penetrate your pussy deep.

Your face pressed tighter into his neck, your entire body melting into his as he took you apart piece by piece, leaving no part of you untouched by his desire.

Suddenly, with a shaky inhale, you finally found the strength to lift yourself. You began bucking your hips against him, moving up and down with an intoxicating rhythm. 

Dabi’s hands gripped your waist, his calloused fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to leave bruises. “That’s it,” he rasped, his voice low and strained, filled with barely restrained hunger. “Show me what you’ve got.”

You shifted your weight, bracing your hands on his ankles for support. Arching your back, you began moving faster, slamming your hips down on his cock. “Shit, shit, shit, oh fuck!”

His dick twitched and swelled inside you, the girth rubbing against your spongy walls in a way that made your head spin. 

Dabi’s breath hitched as he watched your slick arousal coat his length. “Look at ya, so fucking greedy for my cock.” His sharp eyes locked onto you, his chest heaving as he watched the way your pussy sucked his cock, on and on. His cock throbbed inside you, overstimulated from holding back earlier.

Your hips rolled with a purpose as you chased your high. You shot a hand out to rub your clit. 

But Dabi wasn’t one to let you have all the control. With a sudden growl, he grabbed your waist and yanked you off him, flipping you onto all fours. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he aligned himself with your stretched entrance, and without warning, he drove back into you.

The force of his thrusts was relentless, his pace faster and harder than before. Each snap of his hips sent shockwaves through your body, his cock hitting deeper with every stroke. 

Your pussy clenched rhythmically around him.

“Shit,” he growled, his voice rough and strained. “You’re gonna make me fucking lose it.” His head tipped back, a groan ripping from his throat as your walls tightened around him, squeezing him like a vice. 

With one of his thrusts, your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. Your arms gave out, your body collapsing onto the couch as your walls clenched rhythmically around his cock. “Dabi!! Fuck, Dabi!”

He didn’t slow down, his movements became erratic, his movements desperate as he chased his release. “Fuck,” he growled, his grip tightening on your hips. With a deep growl, Dabi buried himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing violently as he came. Warm spurts of his hot seed filled your pussy. His head tipped back, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as his hips stuttered against you, his climax leaving him trembling.

Your pussy clenched around him again, milking him for every last drop of his cum as if your body didn’t want to let him go.

Even after he came, Dabi thrust a few more times, his cock pulsing inside you as he emptied his balls completely. 

Your body quivered beneath him, your legs useless as you lay flat against the couch, still reeling from the intensity, trying to catch your breath.

Finally, his movements slowed, and he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back as he caught his breath. His lips found the space between your shoulder blades, planting soft kisses along the line of your spine before trailing up to your neck. Slowly, he pulled out of you.

You whined at the emptiness. With a swift motion, you rolled to your side, and he shifted to join you, his body settling into the space beside yours.

You lay facing each other, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating his sharp features. 

His turquoise eyes, usually so guarded, softened as he watched your flushed face. In a voice barely above a whisper, he murmured, “I love you too, doll.”

@pixelcafe-network

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I Got a Goth Santa Boy for Christmas! - A Dabi x Reader Fanfic

You ask Santa for a hot goth guy to fuck you stupid. Dabi shows up at your door. 

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Dabi as Santa’s Helper. Spanking. Degradation. Humiliation. Squirting. Faint Praise. 

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Part of CandyCandy’s Kinkmas 2024!

It’s Christmas Eve, a little before midnight, when you hear a knock at your door. You’d just settled in with a mug of hot cocoa and a blanket on the couch, ready to watch looping classic Christmas cartoons as you fall asleep. But before Santa can even begin bullying poor Rudolph, you get interrupted. 

Sighing as you peel the blanket off and sit down your mug, you wonder who could be knocking on your door at this hour. You went to a small Christmas party at a friend’s house earlier today, but if you’d left something there they would have just texted you, right?

The knocking is getting insistent as you reach the door. “Alright already!” you yell as you unfasten the lock and swing the door open. “Stop knocking so loud on Chris-“

Your voice dies in your throat, because what you find on the other side of the door is a very strange sight indeed.

It’s a man in a bizarre Santa suit. The parts that should be red are jet black, and the edges of the coat are frayed and stitched at odd angles. He’s wearing black gloves and boots, both a little too stylized and a little too shiny leather to fit the Santa look. His hair, what you can see of it beneath the black Santa hat, is snowy white and his eyes are bright blue. He has piercings dotting his face and ears, but what strikes you most of all are his scars. 

Rich purple burn scars cover the lower half of his face and form half circles under his eyes. They contrast beautifully with the blue, making his eyes seem to glow. 

He’s gorgeous. And he’s so very much your type that if a friend saw him out in public, they’d snap a photo of him and send it to you. 

You finally find your voice again. “Uh, can I help you?”

He looks at you with an almost bored expression. “Yeah, I heard a naughty little slut lives here. That you?”

Your jaw nearly drops. “Excuse me?!”

“Oh? Did I get the wrong place again?” he asks, pulling an electronic tablet from his coat and tapping the screen to turn it on. He looks from the screen to your face, then holds the tablet out for you to see. “This is you, right?”

On the screen is a picture of you with your name and address beneath it. “That’s me,” you say, “but I’m not a slut!”

He pulls back the tablet and taps the screen a few times. “Really? We got this letter from you. ‘Dear Santa, send me a hot goth guy to fuck me stupid for Christmas!’ Didn’t you write that?”

Your face immediately burns with embarrassment. You did write that. As a joke. And you never showed it to anyone, much less mailed it. How the hell did this stranger get ahold of it?!

You cross your arms defensively. “Even if I did write that, as a joke, it doesn’t mean I’m a slut!”

He taps more on the tablet. “Maybe not, but Santa’s surveillance network is pretty good. We’ve got these videos of you playing with yourself every night.”

“WHAT?!”

Suddenly you hear sounds coming from the tablet, your own voice moaning and crying out in pleasure. The stranger grins, and you can see him using his fingers on the screen to zoom in on something. 

“Wow, look at you go! If this ain’t a horny little slut, I don’t know what is!”

You lunge forward, trying to grab the tablet, but he jerks it out of your reach, holding it up high. On the screen, you can see your own fingers rubbing your clit. “Turn it off!” you scream, absolutely mortified that this hot guy is seeing something so private. How did he get these videos?!

“Oh? Gettin’ worked up?” he asks, laughing as you continue trying to grab the device. 

“I’m not a slut,” you yell out, “I’m still a virgin!”

Both of you freeze. Did you just yell that out to a complete stranger? He’s staring at you, the video still playing, your cries reaching a crescendo as you cum on screen. His eyes flick back to the tablet. “Holy fuck. Never seen a virgin squirt like that!”

You feel tears stinging your eyes. You glare at him in silence for a moment, then step back into your apartment and slam the door in his face. 

“Hey, don’t be like that!” you hear him shout through the door. “I’m your present! You asked for me, right?”

“I didn’t ask to be humiliated!” you yell back. 

You hear him sigh. “Look, it’s not a big deal, okay? You’ve been good enough to get your wish granted, but Santa thinks you’re spending’ too much time flickin’ the bean. I’m supposed to punish you, but in a fun way, yeah?”

“What do you mean, in a fun way?”

His voice is sultry as it glides into your ear. “Let me in, and you’ll find out.”

You stand there facing the door, having a full on mental debate. Should you let him in? He’s an asshole, but he’s fucking gorgeous. You’ve been wanting to lose your virginity for a while now, and you have the hottest guy you’ve ever seen at your door, ready to do the deed. But how did he get your letter, and those videos? 

Oh shit. Santa Clause is real. And this guy works for him. 

Once you accept that, everything else starts to make sense. The guy seeming to be tailor made to fit your taste, him knowing all about you, the way he’s dressed. 

So he’s your present from Santa? 

You take a deep breath, then open the door. He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, his back against the opposite wall in the hallway. He looks up at the sound of the door opening and gets to his feet. 

“I have a question,” you say, a little uneasily. You’re still grappling with the fact that this guy has watched you masturbate. 

He dusts off his black Santa suit. “Yeah? What is it?”

“Did they make you do this?”

He tilts his head and frowns. “They?”

“Whoever you work for. Santa or the elves or whatever.”

He bursts out laughing then. “No, doll, the elves ain’t whorin’ me out. I volunteered after they showed me those videos!”

You look up at him. “Really?”

“Yeah. Got me all riled up. And besides, those little fuckers can’t make me do anything,” he says, a smirk on his handsome face. 

That’s a relief to hear. You don’t want to do this with someone who’s here against their will. 

“So?” he asks, blue eyes gleaming. “You want your present or not?”

You step back inside your doorway and to the side, gesturing for him to come in. You can barely look at him as he walks into your apartment. You’ve fantasized about something like this for years, and you’re certainly horny enough, but now it’s actually happening. Just thinking about it makes you nervous. 

He doesn’t say anything as he follows you to your bedroom, but once there he glances at the bed and grins. “There’s a familiar spot!”

You grimace. “Please stop reminding me of that!”

“Why?” he asks, his eyes not so subtly sliding up and down your form. “You were hot as fuck in those videos.”

The comment makes you blush. Did he really like watching you? Still, you’d rather forget all about that. “Let’s just pretend that never happened, okay?”

He shrugs, standing near your bed. “Okay, so do you wanna unwrap your present now?”

Before you even answer, he’s opening up his furry black Santa coat, revealing no shirt underneath. Oh god, the scars are all over his body, making such a lurid patchwork. You can’t take your eyes off them. 

He sits down on your bed and pats his thigh. “Come sit on Santa’s lap,” he says. 

You cross over to him, your candy cane striped socks making no noise at all on the carpeted floor. You’re wearing a red tank top and green pajama shorts. Nothing fancy or sexy but it’s not like you expected any of this to happen. 

When you get close enough, he suddenly grabs your hand and pulls you over, so that you’re laying across his lap, face down. Your ass is slightly raised in the air, and you squirm a bit in surprise. 

“H-hey!” you shout, trying to wiggle off him, but one of his hands is gripping your thighs while the other is holding your back down. 

“I gotta punish this naughty little slut before we have fun,” he says as the hand on your thighs slides up, over your ass, and then hooks a thumb into the waistband of your shorts and panties. In one smooth motion he pulls them both down, exposing your ass and leaving the fabric around your knees. 

You squirm around in his lap, making a show of struggling, but the truth is that you’re more turned on than you’ve ever been in your life. He raises one hand in the air, then brings it back down in a harsh slap to your ass that makes you yelp. 

“How many do you think you deserve?” he asks, then brings down his hand again. 

You’re trying to keep from moaning, clamping one hand over your mouth, hoping he doesn’t notice how wet you are. 

Another slap. “Come on, answer the question!”

You move your hand from your mouth. “Ahh, I don’t… know!”

He laughs. “Well, tell me how naughty you’ve been and we’ll figure it out.”

Another slap. “I’ve been… very naughty!” you squeak out. 

“I can see that,” he says as his fingers slide down, between your legs. “What naughty things have you been doing?”

“Y-you already know!” you cry out, your voice shuddering as his fingers probe your wet folds. 

“Yeah, but you gotta say it, doll.”

His hand withdraws from your pussy, and you feel another slap, this time to the backs of your thighs. 

“I… I masturbate too much!” you blurt out, feeling your face burn. 

Another slap. Is it your imagination, or does his hand feel unusually warm? 

“Such a dirty little slut,” he says, giving your ass another slap. “So how many whacks does that deserve?”

“Uh… ten?”

You’re too embarrassed to look at his face, but you can practically hear the grin when he says, “Ten? Goin’ a little easy on yourself, huh doll?”

He gives your ass a firm squeeze, and you bite back another moan. Why is his hand so hot? And why is this making you so wet? 

“Well, whatever,” he says. “Ten it is. One…”

Another whack, and you twist in his lap to look back at him now. “One? You’ve already given me a bunch!”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t countin’ those.”

You groan and bury your face in the nearby pillow on your bed. If this keeps up, you’re gonna cum right here, while being spanked. 

The next nine whacks go by with you biting your knuckles, whimpering from the strain of holding back. You refuse to cum in this position, even when he pauses halfway through to rub your sore ass and dip his fingers into your quivering pussy again. 

When all ten whacks are given, he suddenly flips you onto your back on the bed, making you wince when your raw bottom collided with the mattress. Before you can complain, he jerks your shorts and panties off your ankles, pulls your legs apart, and moves between them. “Ready for the fun part?” he asks, leaning down, licking his lips. 

Oh god. You’re so ready. But you’re afraid you’ll make some embarrassing sound if you speak now, so you nod emphatically. 

Then, all at once, his face is in your pussy, his tongue parting your folds and circling your clit. Your body arches off the bed, your legs spreading wider automatically. Your breaths come quicker, shaky and hitching. 

His tongue feels so much better than your fingers! You’ve never felt anything like this, so warm and wet and moving expertly over the little nub. When his thumb takes over for a moment, rubbing your clit in a slightly rougher way, your legs begin to tremble. 

He’s looking up at you from between your thighs. “Gonna squirt for me like you did in the videos?” 

“N-no!” you say, trying desperately to contain yourself.

His thumb rubs upward on your clit, pushing back the hood, making you almost buck off the bed. “Show me how dirty you can be, naughty girl,” he says, then lets his tongue go back to work. 

You can’t stand it any longer. It just feels too good. You let out a cry as you cum, squirting all over him in the process. You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your head back against the pillow, your body spasming with pleasure. Once fully spent and panting, you gather your nerve and look down. 

His face is glistening, your juices dripping from his chin. He’s licking his lips and grinning back at you. 

Face burning, you grab your own pillow and pull it over to hide your humiliated expression. But the man gently tugs it out of your grasp. “Don’t hide,” he says. “You look real cute right now.”

You slowly open your eyes. “I do?”

“Yeah. Now how about I give you the rest of your present?” he asks, drawing back on his knees and unbuckling his black leather belt. 

Oh god. It’s happening. You’re equal parts scared and excited as he opens his pants. You’ve never seen a dick in person before, though you’ve seen plenty in porn. This one is, surprisingly, very pretty. The piercings dotting it catch the light in such a lovely way, and the small patches of scar tissue contrast with his pale skin. 

He leaves on the open Santa coat as he pushes his black pants down his hips and pulls your lower half into his lap. He lines himself up, then slowly pushes in. 

You feel yourself stretching to accommodate him, and there’s a bit of a sting, but not as bad as you’ve imagined while pleasuring yourself. When he starts thrusting lightly, the friction feels good. You can feel the cool metal of the piercings and the warm heat of his hard cock as it slides in and out of you, going deeper each time. 

When he finally gets all the way in, his tip pressing against your cervix, you gasp at the fullness, at feeling him so deeply within you. 

You’re losing your virginity to a guy who works for Santa, whose name you don’t even know. But it feels so amazing, you don’t care. You clamp onto him, throwing your arms around his neck as he pounds into you. 

You hear his voice at your ear. “This what you wanted for Christmas, doll?” 

“Yes!” you cry out, gripping him harder, not wanting to ever let him go. 

He’s practically slamming into you now, your whole body jerking with his thrusts. You’re holding yourself up off the bed by clinging to his neck, and he’s got one hand on the back of your head, cradling it as he fucks you. His other hand, which had been holding your hip steady, slides down between your bodies and finds your clit. He gives it a pinch, and you moan, your mouth pressed against his collarbone. 

Now he’s rubbing small circles into it with his fingertips, and you know you can’t last much longer. Your body is already quivering again, on the edge of release. 

He gives a few more especially deep thrusts while his fingers continue stroking your clit, and you come undone. The orgasm smashes into you, making you scream out as the pleasure washes over you. 

Almost immediately after, as if he were waiting for you, the man cums inside you, clenching his teeth as he shoots his load into your waiting pussy. 

Your arms slide from his neck, and he lowers you to the bed. It takes you a long moment to catch your breath, during which he pulls out of you and buttons his pants. 

“Your name,” you mumble, still dazed. 

He looks at you. “Huh?”

“What’s your name?”

He hesitates, looks away, then mutters, “Touya.”

You laugh weakly. “I thought all Santa’s helpers were elves.”

He sits down on the edge of your bed. “Most of ‘em are. I’m a special case.”

You raise up, pulling a sheet over yourself. “Special how?”

He grins. “This is my community service, to make up for all my fuckups when I was alive.”

Your eyes widen. “Are you… dead?”

He laughs at your reaction. “Nah, dead isn’t the right term for it. ‘Between lives’ works better.”

“What does that mean?” 

“It means I was on the naughty list in my previous life. Did a whole lot of bad shit,” he replies, looking a little nostalgic. “So I got an offer. Do some good deeds for a while and start my next life with a clean slate.”

“How long is a while?” you ask. 

“Sixty-five years,” he says. 

You shoot straight up in bed. “That long?!”

He laughs again. “It’s not so bad! I help out at the workshop a few months a year and spend the off season ice skating with elves.”

You stare at him for a moment. “Are you, uh, allowed to leave the workshop?”

His eyes slide over to your face. “Why? You want me to come visit you?”

You’re immediately flustered. “No! I mean… maybe. If you want to.”

He stands up and leans over you, kissing you on the cheek. “You’re really cute right now,” he says, then straightens up and heads for your door. Before he leaves, he looks back at you. “We’re pretty bored up there around Valentine’s Day. Maybe I’ll come see you.”

You find yourself smiling. “I’d like that.”

He raises his hand in a casual wave as he walks out, saying, “Merry Christmas!”

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everytime I see "incel Shigaraki" fics, I'm just like: