Cutee

Spinner, walking into the hideout: “Where’s Tomura?”

Toga: “He’s outside setting off firecrackers with All Might and Endeavor action figures attached to them.”

Spinner: “Where’s Dabi?”

Mr. Compress: “Who do you think is lighting them?”

Dabi: “Do another Endeavor one.”

Tomura: “We just did three in a row, it’s my turn.”

Twice, watching them: “Aww, they’re bonding.”

VILLAIN TRIO SMILING

he just like me fr

he doesnt wanna talk

its getting boring lately, I need a red flag like Dabi in my life to make things spicy and keep me on my toes all the time

Meme redraw

the past never dies

pretty 🥺

I just wanted to draw him in peace with himself on a flower field, nothing more than that.

You whine to Dabi that you’re terrified you’ll fail your exam tomorrow. It’s an important one. It dictates whether or not you’ll obtain the job you want upon graduating college next year. The stress on your shoulders is unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

18+ // angst, breeding, dabi’s a scumbag, dark content, dumbification, misogyny, noncon, pregnancy, yandere

—

And Dabi knows exactly what to do. Whenever you come to him with a worry, he has just the solution. It’s how he landed a pretty thing like you in the first place.

He undoes his belt buckle. You perk up at the familiar sound. Tears fall down your puffy cheeks as you stare at the thickness he’s unveiling. He’s going to use it to distract you tonight. It’s sure as hell better than sitting and listening to you talk in circles. This way, you’re a babbling, drooling, slutty mess on his cock, instead.

You can’t stop yourself from salivating at the thought of focusing on fucking him. You’re already wet at the prospect. He’s conditioned you to crave him on sight by now. He made it evident that one of your duties, as his girlfriend, is to give him whatever he desires. He reasoned that this is what good women do when they love their men, and you love him, don’t you, baby?

Yes. Yes, you do.

He sits down on the couch with his pants and boxers pooled around his ankles. You take implicit direction well. You mount him and plant a kiss on his smug lips. You lower yourself onto his tip, allowing it to split you open. It’s a welcoming stretch. Your clit twitches as you slide all the way to his base. Your ass rests on his fat sack, ripe with cum to unload.

You have no idea that you won’t need your education soon enough. Don’t you get that he’s a villain? The two of you can never have a normal life.

As you bounce wildly on his pole, bracing yourself on his shoulders, you moan and cry out. There’s a ring of your cream forming around his base, indicating your blind satisfaction. He thinks you’re perfect. You’re so willing to submit, willing to please, willing to listen to him when he says what’s best for you. And when you finally reach your limit, expelling all of your stress and nerves about your exam tomorrow, he laughs. He purrs that you’re a good girl, that it feels a lot better when he fucks you dumb, doesn’t it? You agree numbly, nodding with hazy eyes, barely conscious of what he’s drilling into your susceptible mind.

You’re completely fucking out of it. He grins. That’s his cue to breed your pussy until he’s sure you’ll be round with his kid in three months’ time. You’d fight him if you were conscious. You’re the type that wishes to live a little before becoming a mom. It’s a shame that he doesn’t care to work with your schedule. This relationship revolves around what he wants, and he thinks he wants to give fatherhood a shot.

His body is shutting down. He’s killing himself from the inside by using his quirk. There’s no telling how long he has until his reproductive system stops working, too. You’re the perfect, brain dead vessel for his desire.

Impregnating you is simple. It works. You take a test about a month and a half after the encounter and it’s positive. You’re less than thrilled m. He doesn’t show how overjoyed he is, save for whispering how he can’t wait to fuck another one into you when he’s pounding you in any position.

And when you get the results of your exam in the mail, Dabi opens the letter. He reads it silently before solemnly admitting you didn’t pass. You’re crushed. The hormones are making you extra emotional, too. You sob for hours in his arms, shifting back and forth between neutral and inconsolable. He smirks against his skull, cooing words of encouragement during your breakdown. At least you still have motherhood, no? There’s no need to be so upset. He can support you with the League nearing success.

And when you fall asleep later, he shreds your results and tosses them into the night. You passed with flying colours. But he can’t have you knowing your worth, can he?

based on this