toji is daddy

Tokoyami feels a familiar surge of possessiveness rise up in him. Hawks may be his superior, but Tokoyami doesn’t want you to end up with him. The specific breed he takes after is the Martial Eagle, and they mate for life. Unfortunately, so do Red-Tailed Hawks, of which Hawks has admitted to probably take his instincts from. Two men who want the same woman, who both mate for life—how is that supposed to work without one or the other losing something so precious?

Hawks had checked to see if there were any other women with bird-related quirks in Japan, admitting that the endeavor was so that if you chose one or the other, no one was left without hatchlings. Sure, Hawks has slept around a lot over his career, and Tokoyami is no blushing virgin, but people with bird quirks can’t mate, can’t have hatchlings with someone who doesn’t have a bird quirk.

But his search had been damning for their growing rivalry for your attention: it turned out that not a single woman had a bird-related quirk in the entirety of East Asia. There were a few across the West, but they weren’t easily accessible and a few of them were already married to other men with wings or beaks or talons.

And, truth be told, none of them were nearly as beautiful as you are.

So they flirt and they watch and they wait. Whose mating dance will attract you first? Who will you be willing to commit to, to be mated for life? No divorce, no separation, only till death do you part?

So far, neither of them have gotten anything more than the other, and while they haven’t discussed it, Tokoyami and Hawks both have the same fear: that you aren’t attracted to either of them.

“Hey, Fumi!” you call cheerfully as you enter the top floor of the agency, bursting into his office with a grin on your face. “Guess who got you some venison jerky?”

Tokoyami’s eyes widen. He’s appreciative of your gift, but he’s more impressed by how nice you look. “Where on earth did you get that?”

You wink. “Secret. If I’m going to get you something, I want you to think of me! And if you can get it all by yourself, then it won’t be special anymore.”

“Is something going on today?” he asks as he takes the unmarked bag. There’s some sticky residue from the glue where you’d torn off the label. The things you did… you were so cute.

He’s convinced that there’s no one better than you in the world. He just has to somehow make you see that he’s worthy of you. He’d do anything for you.

Looking back up at you, he sees you flushing, the extra blood tinting your skin appealingly.

“Oh, nothing,” you demur.

“What is it, Cupid,” he asks you flatly, intentionally using your hero name to show that he means business.

You laugh. “Really, it’s nothing. I just…”

Tokoyami stares at you with the steady focus of a bird of prey and you finally grin sheepishly.

“Okay, so don’t tell anyone. You gotta promise!”

He nods. “Of course. I would never break your confidence.”

You mirror his nod. “Okay.” You take a deep breath. “Uh… so you know Denki? Kaminari Denki? I think he went to school with you?”

Tokoyami nods. Chargebolt had made it into the top ten before being seriously injured in a battle with a copycat group of the now-incarcerated League of Villains. They were nowhere near as dangerous, and perhaps that was why the heroes that had faced them underestimated them—all those present had dealt with the League personally at some point in their careers and knew the true meaning of quirks gone wrong. Tokoyami had been there and he had personally underestimated them himself, but he knew Kaminari hadn’t. Kaminari had really grown up by then and took even the slightest of threats seriously, knowing that even one mistake could spell the end of someone’s life, hero or civilian.

And yet, out of everyone there, the only one who had been truly prepared for the battle had had his leg severed from the knee down, even though it meant the villains were apprehended. His career over, Kaminari still kept in touch with his closer friends from UA and his time as a Pro, but it hadn’t prevented him from fading into the background after a while. He was a civilian now, though he’d been awarded accolades for his sacrifice, and lived a civilian life. Last Tokoyami had checked, Denki had started a company specializing in clean energy.

“Fumi?”

Tokoyami is startled out of his thoughts and nods. “Yes, I went to school with him. Is he alright?”

“Oh, he’s fine,” you say, blush intensifying. “It’s just that… you know how I went to that fundraiser for clean technology last month?”

He feels a pit of dread steadily growing in his stomach. “Yes.”

“Well, I got to meet him then. I think I mentioned it?”

You had, which is why Tokoyami is doing his best not to slip into despair despite not having confirmation for his suspicions.

“You did,” he says, voice strained. You don’t notice.

“Well, we’ve kept in touch since then, and we’ve hung out a couple of times…” Something tells him that it hasn’t been just “a couple” of times that you’ve met up with his old classmate. “And last night, we were talking, and he asked me out. Like, on a real date.” Your sparkling eyes brighten and your smile could illuminate the darkest of caves. “So tonight, we’re going to this new American fusion place downtown! He got us reservations and everything, and it’s in the VIP section, and I just—I’m just so excited!”

A squeal escapes you, not dissimilar to the way his heart is shattering in his chest.

“I’m glad for you,” he lies quietly.

“Oh, don’t worry, Fumi,” you say, sensing something off but not why. “I’ll be careful.”

He used to love that shortening of his name; a sure sign of more-than-platonic affection, he’d thought, and of course you didn’t call Hawks by anything special. Now it feels like a betrayal, a conniving lie to lead him on.

But he knows you. You’re not like that—you’re not innocent to the world and its troubles, no hero can be, but there remains a lingering naivete about you that can and does draw everyone in. You’re the favorite of the agency, that’s for sure, and if your quirk had been more powerful, more offensive, you easily could be a beloved pro. But you stick to being a sidekick, stepping up to the plate whenever you can, and it’s well known that you only ever work directly with himself or Hawks.

And even without being a pro, the public loves you. Maybe even more than they love the #3 hero, bumped down after Deku and Dynamight took the first and second slots in the rankings since their tandem defeat of the League. But that doesn’t matter to him.

He loves you for who you are: the sweet kind of person who brings her friends special treats for no reason; is more passionate about helping others than any sort of wealth or fame; donates most of her earnings to charities; takes time to really talk with her fans and help them in whatever way she can.

That’s you. With the ocean of love you hold in your comparatively small body, all he admires about you, he can’t imagine you wasting your time with someone who can’t even give you chicks.

On top of that, he’s never heard you talk about any exes, or anyone you’ve committed to in the past. It leads him to thinking about your unwavering loyalty, your near-abnormal capacity to love, your dedication to those you call your own… and he can’t stand to think that that will be wasted on someone who doesn’t have the instincts, or even the ability, to truly appreciate that.

“Fumi? Fumi? Are you okay?”

Once again, Tokoyami has to be torn out of his thoughts, racing as they are.

“I’m fine,” he says, but he can’t keep the bite of bitterness out of his mouth.

You lean forward. A bit of your cleavage is showing, and your wings are folded tightly into your body; a mixture of a temptation and a show of concern. No matter how you’ve fully destroyed his heart, left him empty of the hope of ever having hatchlings of his own and will instead have to hope that his children won’t have any bird quirks lest they face the same fate, he still loves you and doesn’t want you to worry.

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your plump bottom lip worriedly.

“Truly,” he says. “I hope things with you and Kaminari go well.” It’s a lie, but he also knows that if they don’t go well, if Kaminari does you even the smallest slight… Well, Hawks will understand, and he knows how to cover certain forbidden activities up.

Like the time that a reporter had called you a whore on national television. You had been distraught, so worried that you’d portrayed yourself badly, worried you’d hurt someone’s feelings. Obviously you hadn’t; the reporter was known to smear anyone she didn’t like, and of course she would smear Tokyo’s golden girl, Cupid. Jealousy was a powerful thing.

Tokoyami knows for a fact that no one has found the reporter’s body yet, and they never will. A villain has already been tried and found guilty for several murders anyways, including the reporters, so it’s all in the past. He does hope, however, that it doesn’t need to happen again.

Your shoulders are still slumped, but you give him a small smile and say, “If you’re really sure. I gotta go give Hawks his gift and his coffee, but I think we have a meeting at ten?”

Tokoyami mechanically checks his calendar. “We do. See you then.”

You walk out of the office, clearly subdued, but he can’t help his effect on you. You didn’t ask for him to fall in love with you, and he can absolutely understand why Kaminari has, too.

He does worry a bit, though, about how Hawks, who’s notoriously possessive of the people he cares about, will react.

\|/\|/\|/

After the meeting, Tokoyami asks Hawks if he wants to go on a quick ‘patrol.’ They do their regular patrols anyway, but occasionally they use it as a codeword for escaping the monotony of the office, especially with how peaceful things have been since the League’s defeat.

“Sure thing. Did you ask Cupid?” he asks.

“No,” Tokoyami says lowly, and Hawks, ever intuitive, doesn’t press further.

They take off from the roof and just soar across the skies for a little while. The sky is a bright blue with just enough cloud cover for Dark Shadow to assist his flight.

Eventually they meet up at their private rooftop, the one on Hawks’ penthouse. You sometimes come with them here, but more often the three of you go to other little nooks together. None of you can deny that there’s something special about being in something small enough to be considered a safe nest, even you. Even you, who’s decided to forsake hatchlings.

“Any particular reason why Cupid isn’t here?” Hawks asks smugly, and it’s clear he thinks that Tokoyami is down because he’s learned about some secret affection of yours for the #3 hero. How wrong he is.

When Tokoyami informs him of the truth of the situation, how neither of them will ever have chicks now, their desperately sought-after hen choosing to deny herself the joy of a true family for a crippled ex-hero, Hawks isn’t heartbroken. Not outwardly, at least.

No, he’s furious.

“How dare she,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Doesn’t she know how much she means to me—us? Doesn’t she know that she’s denying her very fucking DNA? Fuck, I knew I should have tried harder to figure out what her species is.”

“I know it.”

He’d decided to keep it to himself at first; he’d considered it an advantage over his rival. Now it’s obvious that it’s not in his best interest to withhold it anymore.

Hawks glares at him but doesn’t reprimand his secrecy. “What is it?”

“Mourning dove.”

Humming under his breath, Hawks says, “Mating habits?”

“Similarly faithful as a mate, but only monogamous. She would never choose to mate for life, not like us, even if she does spend her life with only one person.”

“Fucking hell,” Hawks curses. “Explains her virginity, at least.”

Tokoyami turns to him with a withering glare. “You looked at her medical files.”

“Boss,” Hawks replies with a lackadaisical shrug. “You never know what might come in handy.” His face darkens. “But that means if she’s actually interested in Chargebolt, it’s not a passing thing. No previous partners according to her file, and now she’s suddenly going on a serious date? Shit. Fuck. Fucking shit.”

Tokoyami stares down at the bustling street far below them and sighs. “I knew it was too good to be true,” he says. “One of us… We should have a made a move. Now she’s gone forever.”

Hawks is silent, staring up at the sky while Tokoyami continues to stares down.

“Is she, though?” Hawks muses.

It’s been quiet for so long that Tokoyami has to ask him to clarify.

“Is she really gone?” Hawks repeats. “It’s been us three, just us, ever since I hired her three years ago, soon as she graduated from UA. She was with us during her internship—constantly. It’s always been just us.”

“That’s clearly about to change,” Tokoyami snaps, unable to hold in his rising temper as Hawks shoves the reality of his broken heart in his face so harshly.

“But it doesn’t have to,” Hawks says softly.

They look at each other for a moment and it’s like an entire conversation passes between them.

“Someone sympathetic to the copycat group wants revenge,” Tokoyami says after a moment.

“They’ve been planning this for a while,” Hawks agrees. “Stalking, researching. They’ve decided to strike tonight, when it looks like Chargebolt is going to get some happiness that he doesn’t deserve.”

“It’s a stealth hit,” Tokoyami goes on. “I decided to visit my old classmate after a sidekick mentioned him today, but something was off when I arrived and I grew suspicious. I found him dead in his bed, body mutilated. The villain was just leaving as I found the body and I called for backup.”

“I was in the neighborhood. I like the snacks at a café in that area and was able to respond quickly, but the villain committed suicide.”

“Cupid’s hurting, thinking she’s been stood up. Obviously, Kaminari suddenly stopped answering his phone because he’s been murdered, but she doesn’t know that. I mentioned what she told me to you in passing after Kaminari’s death, and as her boss and friend, you’re concerned but have to deal with fallout.”

“You bring her to my place. She’ll want to spend time with us, her closest friends, in the wake of the tragedy. She’ll be distraught and we’ll offer her comfort. She’s inconsolable—” Here Hawks pauses, looks to Tokoyami with a question in his eyes.

“If she was going to commit herself to him, she will be.” Like we are, he doesn’t say.

“—So we give her a little something to help her sleep. We secure her, and then we fuck her until a brood takes. After she’s pregnant—”

“No,” Tokoyami says firmly. “We are not going to rape her while she’s unconscious.”

Hawks waggles his eyebrows. “Oh, you kinky bastard. You want her conscious?”

Tokoyami recoils. “No! I want her to be with me—us, willingly.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Hawks replies flatly.

“We might not be the cleanest of pros, but rape is outright villainy,” Tokoyami says grimly.

And, as usual, Hawks shrugs it off. “Guess I’ll have her all to myself anyways. I just thought I’d offer to share, since she doesn’t mate for life.”

“We do, though,” Tokoyami replies, intrigued against his will at Hawk’s revelation. You don’t mate for life, so there’s no feasible reason they can’t both get what they want. It’ll be unusual, probably cause a media circus at the taboo of it all, but— “No. If you’re going to rape her, clip her wings like that, I won’t help you.” What he doesn’t say is that he’ll report the entire plot before it can come to fruition. Better to not have her at all than to force her to have their chicks—no, to have Hawks’ chicks. Tokoyami is not a rapist.

Hawks just stares. His expression is grim. Tokoyami can’t seem to make eye contact with the man he’d thought he knew.

“Tokoyami, look at me.”

He ignores the demand.

“Fumikage, I’m serious. Look. At. Me.”

Hawks rarely uses anyone’s first name if he can avoid it; the only one he consistently uses is yours. So to have him saying it now…

Reluctantly, Tokoyami turns to him. “What.”

“We’ll ask her. Both of us, separately. Tell her what we want, what she could have if she’s with one of us. See what she says.”

“We already know what she’ll say,” Tokoyami says, confused at the sudden turn.

Hawks raises a hand for silence. “Hear me out. We ask her. On the off chance that she’s somehow missed one of our signals, maybe Chargebolt can be circumvented. She gives one of us chicks of her own free will. No rape, no more competition. Whoever she chooses, the loser bows out gracefully.”

Tokoyami likes this much more, as much as he doubts that it could possibly work.

“If she rejects both of us, though, then she’s a threat. We go through with the original plan. She might not come willingly with us, but she’s not an offensive fighter; we’ll overtake her easily. We bring her to my place, but we don’t fuck her if she’s not into it. I’ll tell everyone she’s taking some time off, and we’ll warm her up to us. Once she’s more amenable to us, she’ll have our chicks.”

He frowns. It’s not… a bad plan, but… “That could take months. Years.”

“That’s the only alternative I’ve got for you.”

“I have a counterproposal,” Tokoyami says. It makes sense to give you a chance to come with one of them willingly, he can’t deny that. You deserve at least a chance. But every instinct is telling him that nothing will change if Kaminari isn’t taken out of the picture, and there’s no reason to wait and let you grow more attached to him. His instincts are also telling him that it’s spring, the perfect time to mate, and he can’t wait an entire year for it to be prime mating season again, even though as a human you can have hatchlings at any time. Spring is just right for it.

As he outlines his amendment to the plan, Tokoyami thinks it was very telling that he didn’t immediately fly away to report to the authorities the moment Hawks mentioned taking you against your will.

At least you’ll get to choose who has you first.

\|/\|/\|/

The flames were burning higher now, and he didn’t think even he’d be able to stand it much longer. Your face was darkened by soot and he could see your sweet lips parted to gulp down whatever was left of the oxygen in the room.

You were beautiful. A true feast for the eyes, all blazing hatred and fearlessness; even your last act would be attempting to trip and humiliate one of your attackers.

It was entrancing, and as his eyes roved your body, he realized that he wanted you.

Just for a quick fuck, of course. It was too bad he couldn’t take advantage of your helplessness and fuck you into the floor right here. No one would ever know; you’d be nothing more than dust by the time the fire was put out. It was a shame you were going to die and he’d never get to sample you.

And then he realized that he didn’t strictly have to fuck you here, nor did you necessarily have to die in this specific fire.

He moved forward, raising his hand higher and releasing some blue flame onto his palm.

You glared up at him defiantly. “Do it, then,” you snarled furiously, still unafraid, and especially not afraid of him. He wouldn’t have liked that under normal circumstances, but at that moment he barely heard you, his eyes focused on your lips and imagining how they’d feel around his cock.

He took one more step forward, his fire dousing your face in bright light, before saying smugly, “No.” Your eyes widened in shock. Abruptly, he extinguished the flame and grabbed you by your hair, yanking you towards him.

You screamed as he violently dragged you upwards and simultaneously incinerated the desk pinning you down, giving you a healthy second-degree burn from the desk’s vicinity to your leg even though it wasn’t directly touching you anymore. He gazed into your eyes as you struggled to escape, leering with a lusty smirk, and you finally looked scared.

Dabi knocked you out before proceeding to escape the building post-haste, not a moment too soon: there was the hiss of steam from a jet of water nearby and Dabi knew he had to get the hell out of Dodge.

Instead of meeting up with Twice at the agreed upon location, Dabi contacted him and told him he’d be late and not to wait up. There must have been something in his voice that alerted Twice to the importance of his tardiness because there wasn’t a protest from either of the personalities, just a quick confirmation to meet back up at the League’s headquarters. That was fine. Dabi assumed he’d be done pretty quickly; there was something about fire, the adrenaline of destruction and pain and death that really got him going. He was already rock hard as he pinned your body to a back-alley wall, uncaring that you were unconscious as he ripped open your blouse and shoved up your skirt. He hoped you’d wake up, of course, but there was a bit of a time restriction and it wasn’t like you were going to live to remember this either way.

Your red lace bra was torn open, a strap breaking as he snapped the front, before he eagerly palmed your breasts, roughly kneading and pinching your soft nipples. They were perfect mounds in his hands, supple and silky, just the size he preferred. He couldn’t help but nuzzle one with his cheek, reveling in their perfection.

As he pinched and pulled without mercy, your nipples hardened from the pain of his ministrations even in your unconsciousness. It was only when he sucked harshly on one—he had always been a breast man—that you began to stir, eyes fluttering open as your hips feebly bucked against his. You were disoriented and obviously didn’t realize what was going on; Dabi couldn’t imagine that you would be so responsive when you regained your wits.

This wasn’t the first time he’d taken a woman by force so he knew that whatever you were feeling right now would dissipate quickly once the situation dawned on you. Maybe there’d still be some lubrication when he first entered you, but he knew that rape was generally a dry fuck with only spit to smooth the way.

Undeterred by this knowledge, he continued to suck and grope, wedging a knee between your thighs so a hand could stay free. He heard you groan, then tense as tight as a bow string.

“What the…” you muttered, struggling slightly. He ignored you; no one would hear anything you said or did with the fire blazing so nearby. Your hips twitched against his knee, and it was then he noticed that through his slacks, there was light dampness.

He was surprised, yes, but oh so pleased. Had he found himself a little slut?

Dabi released your breast with a soft pop and kissed back up your neck. Your eyes were finally open enough to meet his and there was immediate recognition.

“What the fuck! Stop!” you shrieked, kicking out and starting to fight in earnest. Wanting to scare you a bit more, he roughly bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulder.

Instead of a scream, you released a full-body shudder, and the sound that escaped you wasn’t one of fear or pain.

He pulled away. Oh, this was just too much. You, this beautiful, defiant woman with no fear in your eyes as you demanded he stop, were getting off on this.

“Stop!” you shrieked again. He leaned into your face.

“You don’t want me to, though,” he said, eyes crinkling in sadistic glee. “Don’t lie and say you can’t feel how wet you are, slut.” Your face flamed in fury.

Then you headbutted him.

He pulled away just in time, but your forehead bumped his nose painfully anyway. A blue flame appeared in his hand and he shoved it close enough to your throat to hurt but not burn. “You don’t want to do that,” he said, but he was grinning manically.

“I’d rather die,” you growled, and leaned forward toward the flame as if you would actually prefer to die than be raped.

Then again, you were going to die either way. Maybe you knew that.

Still, he extinguished the flame. He was getting impatient, so he gripped your throat tightly to immobilize you, squeezing just hard enough to turn your breathing into light wheezing but not enough to knock you out quickly.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun, you and me,” he told you, yanking down your underwear. Upon feeling the soft satin and gauzy lace, he looked down and found that you were wearing a pair of cherry red panties that matched your bra. Your lucky lover would surely be devastated by your death.

You whimpered, and tears were beading in your eyes before dripping down your face. He wasn’t sure if it was the pressure on your throat or distress, but you made a lovely picture.

The panties were soaked, as he knew they would be, and impulsively he stuffed them into his jacket pocket. There was no reason not to take them when they would continue smelling delicious for a while yet.

One-handedly, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, freeing his cock from its uncomfortable confines and stroking it. He didn’t need to, though; he was going to come all too soon. It was too bad he wasn’t going to have time for a refractory period so he could enjoy you properly.

As he aligned himself with your sodden pussy, he felt more than saw you shaking your head desperately. His hand was damp with tears. It didn’t matter, as in the next moment he was plunging into you and hissing from how tight you were. Almost as tight as a virgin.

Maybe no lover was going to be devastated after all. Maybe you wore these sexy undergarments in case you were in a position to be taken advantage of; just in case someone like him treated like the slut you were. Strangely, the thought didn’t so much as amuse him, but this wasn’t the time for thinking anyways.

Dabi pulled back all the way until only his head was inside you, then thrust back in you as hard as he could. You wheezed a yelp and tried to pull his hand away from your throat, but your struggles were weak and your hands couldn’t find purchase. The lack of a full breath was starting to affect you.

He set a frenzied pace, not having the patience to luxuriate in your tightness or the silken feel of you around him like he’d never felt before or the way your walls gripped him like a vice. He was already too close to the edge.

You let out a ragged sob as a flush of wetness escaped you to soak him, and your hips began to lightly move against his. Little more than your previous movements, yes, but you were obviously seeking pleasure.

You were getting pleasure from this. He had to admit he was impressed.

“You really are just a slut, aren’t you?” he asked, panting lightly even as he adjusted himself to hit your g-spot. “You like this, huh, you little whore?”

You sobbed again as your hips moved harder against his. Your body was practically begging him for release, and when you were such a good fuck, how could he deny you? He reached down and began massaging your clit lightly with just enough pressure to make your hips move faster; too much stimulation and you might stop fucking him back.

Instead, you began to push into his hand, desperate for a firmer touch.

“You’re just a cum slut,” he said, flush with victory and lust. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you? Can’t you feel how bad you want this? You’re so wet, but you play hard to get—that turns you on, huh? Can’t give it out for free, I guess. I bet you wanted this the moment you laid eyes on me.”

Rage shone in your eyes like hellfire as you tried to fervently shake your head, but your hips didn’t even stutter. It was a lovely sight and he wished he had a camera. The memory of this was going to be getting him off for weeks.

As he angled just right and his pace turned punishing, you tensed; your eyes fluttered shut as your back arched and your walls clamped down around his cock, just about strangling it. He was already so close that he immediately came, your pussy milking him for every drop he could give. He released your throat just to hear the moans escaping you as you peaked, his shallow but firm thrusting drawing out your orgasm for as long as possible.

And then, all too soon, it was over.

You were woozy as he released you, your legs not able to support you as you crumpled to the ground. You had come hard, he knew, just from how long it had lasted. He wondered if it was like that for you every time, or if it was just because this was obviously the first time you’d had sex in a long time. As Dabi tucked himself back in his boxers, he felt cheated that he would never find out.

He took a brief moment to take you in: hair disheveled, half-naked, and flushed with milky white semen leaking out from between your legs. You were crying but limp, the image of defeat, and he made sure to memorize the sight so he wouldn’t forget for a long time.

Dabi made sure he had his fill of your broken beauty before reluctantly lighting his hand and aiming his flames at you, when—

“Hey! Step away from the girl!” shouted the voice of a hero he didn’t recognize. A gust of leaves shot forward, sharp and cutting. Dabi instinctively burned the foliage with a spray of fire.

The hero was at the front of the alley while the both of you were near the back. Dabi could easily incinerate you and get away before the hero even got close, but he had already hesitated once to kill you in the building and he found himself hesitating again.

It would be a waste to get rid of you when there was so much more he wanted from you, wouldn’t it?

He flexed his hand and shot a more powerful a stream of fire at the hero, unconcerned with whether it hit him or not as long as it provided a distraction. Fishing in your discarded lab coat’s pockets, he found was he was looking for: your ID badge from your job.

Reading your name, he decided that it suited you and was definitely enough to track you down again. Tucking it in his pocket along with your panties, he stopped his attack long enough to say, “See you later, princess.”

You finally lifted your tear-stained face and gave him a look of such utter loathing he felt a tightening in his lower stomach despite not enough time passing for him to get hard again.

The hero had recovered by then and was closing in, and Dabi darted away with only a brief backwards glance at you. The hero chose not to pursue and instead help you, and Dabi internally bristled at the way the hero helped you shrug on your lab coat and cover yourself, and the grateful look you gave the piece of shit.