#and breakdowns

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You’re in bed fast asleep. The rest of your day gone by silently- the majority spent in your room as you tried to forget the stench that invaded your home and you- one that only left after you lit a candle and opened your window. You’re underneath a blanket, and you look at bliss. The first time since you’ve entered through the front door and in sleep, you miss the way the door clicks open and a figure walks and gets into bed with you, lifting the blanket off your body and hands replacing where the fabric rested. 

They’re warm- warmer than most people and the staples have warmed to his temperature and in your sleep you flinch away from him. He tuts his tongue in annoyance and lets his hands continue to roam your body. He soon grows bored with the lack of attention and gives a firm pat to your face, tilting his head when your brows furrow in annoyance. His lips are on your unresponsive ones, sucking your bottom lip between his lips and letting his teeth press gently and pull on it, letting it go and watching as your tongue peeks out in a poor attempt to soothe over the blossoming red lip. He doesn’t know how long he’s on top of you for, how long he spends, letting his hand roll over your breast and let his fingers pinch at your hardened buds, rubbing his crotch on your thigh, trying to feel an ounce of pleasure from the friction. 

You start to mumble in your sleep, your legs jerking ever so slightly and he whispers your name, shaking you awake and he pulls his crotch away from you, palming himself through the fabric of his briefs. 

A small yawn escapes past your lip and you hum in response to being called. He calls your name again and you call out his name in a breathy whisper. 

“Yeah, it’s me doll.” His tongue swipes at your neck, hand slowly slipping out from under your shirt, nipples poking through the fabric of your shirt.

“How did you get in?” You mumble sleepily, eyes fluttering open but ultimately going back to being shut.

“It’s a simple lock. Anyone can get in.” His hand continues to run up your thigh and you whine in your sleep, jerking your leg in an attempt to shake him off. “Do you wanna know what I did?” His lips ghost over the shell of your ear and his hand rises past your hips and under your shirt. “In your kitchen I mean.”

“Thought you said you cooked and cleaned.” You peer up at him through your eyelashes and end up closing them again when you find him already looking intently at you. 

“I lied,” he whispers, breath hot against your face. His hand cups your chest and you furrow your brows, your own hand coming up to swipe him away. “Got a bit too sloppy on something and led them back here.” His hand leaves your chest and he twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. “Took care of it though.”

“You-” 

“Not the first time I’ve done it.” His lips drag over your face and he brings your leg to hook around his. “You know that. You’re the one who allowed me to stay even after finding out who I was.” 

“Dabi,” you try to push him off, sleep still calling out to you, “I’m not in the mood right now,” your speech slurs and your arms fall limply to your side.

“I’m in the mood.” His lips are on yours, tongue pushing past your lips and making claim in your mouth. His hips rutting into yours and a hand pulling your shorts to the side. “Come on. I promise to make it worth your while.”

You smirk against his lips and shake your head. “You always say the same thing.” Your smile falls. “I’m tired. I have things to do tomorrow.”

“I’m finally home and you want to leave me?”

“Stop it. I-” he turns your head to the side and his lips drag from your chin to your earlobe. “Dabi, I’m serious-” you narrow your eyes at him when his fingers are dangerously close to the edge of your underwear- “stop.”

“I’m hard.” He grabs your hand and makes you cup him. “Got this hard from a little kiss. Come on.” He leaves wet kisses on the curve of your neck, suctioning a bit and letting his tongue circle where he kissed you. 

Your hand is between your sex and his member- you’re warm and you’re unsure if that’s because your body is responding to him or if his own body heat made you hot. He ruts in your hand, hissing between teeth when your hand tightens around him. His teeth nip at your shoulder, and you turn your head to where his rests.

“Dabi. Seriously, just jerk off to a nude or something.” Your hand leaves his member and you try to turn your body, choosing sleep over his company. His hand stops you, finger pads pressing deep in your skin and forcing you to stay in your position. “I’m tired.” His fingers slip past your underwear and you make a disapproving noise in the back of your throat. You repeat your sentence, grabbing at the damaged skin on his arm.

“For fucks sake,” he mutters under his breath. “Just go to sleep then,” he says out loud. “Let me get my dick wet.”

“I’m not wet,” you protest, opening your eyes and your vision goes blurry when you yawn, tears filling your eyes and disappearing as quick as they came. “Just jerk off.”

“I’ll get you wet.” 

Before you can open your mouth, his index and middle finger push into you. A low moan sounds in the back of your throat and he takes that as encouragement. They move slowly inside of you, pushing at your walls, feeling them squish under his touch and his other hand grabs at your face and you stare at him through heavy eyelids, sleep still clouding your mind. He makes you look at him as his fingers are deep in you. It’s tight- you weren’t ready for him- and only droplets of your slick coat his fingers. But he takes his time with you, eyes devoid of any emotion while he works you up. He’s gentle, tongue peeking through his lips and your eyes scan his face, trying to find a hint at what he’s thinking. His digits circle inside of you, curling and urging more of your arousal out and soon he’s pumping his fingers in and out of you, lewd clicking noises filling the room while you breathe harshly through your nose, face burning in desire.

“Tell me you want it,” he whispers, eyes glancing to your lips. “I want to hear you beg for it.”

Your eyes widen and then fall to a tired expression. “You’re an asshole,” you manage to say between smooshed lips. “I didn’t want this and even if I did, I can get myself off.”

His eyes narrow at you and he pulls his fingers out of you and brings the wet digits between both of our faces, arousal making his fingers crinkle and shine. He glances at his fingers and then back at you and with your mouth already parted open, he shoves his fingers inside of your mouth, and drags them roughly on your tongue.

You gasp around his digits and he only shoves his hand farther down your mouth, fingers curving over your tongue and threatening to go down your throat. When your teeth make contact, his hand warms and you loosen your jaw. Your eyes burn with tears of discomfort and your body goes rigid. His name is muffled in your mouth and your hands wrap around his hand, trying to pry him out of you only for him to shove his fingers farther down. You gag around him, choke on him while the taste of your arousal fills your mouth, your hands loosening around him and bunching your shirt when the threat of bile rising becomes all too real.

He inches his digits closer to the opening of your mouth, the threat of sickness fading slowly but the tears still lingering and clinging to your eyelashes. You breath harshly through your nose and watch him with scared eyes.

“I’m giving you the choice to sleep with me,” his fingers press down on your tongue and they become warm, “you got that right? So are you going to sleep with me or do I have to convince you?” He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, drool sliding down his fingers. “Answer.”

You swallow the tightness in your throat and blink away the tears. “Please Dabi. I’m so wet,” your voice croaks and you clear your throat. “Touch me Dabi, please. I want it so bad.” Your words are quiet, a ghost of a whisper and you wait for him to answer with your bottom lip rolled between your teeth.

You flinch when he fingers pick at your shirt and wipe the drool off on it. “Good girl,” he mutters, pecking your forehead. “Wasn’t that hard, now was it?”

You shake your head in response and close your eyes when his lips meet yours. You shiver when his tongue moves past your lips and into your mouth. He’s heavy on top of you, running his hands through your hair, parting the tendrils and letting his fingers graze you softly, and leaving your hair and slipping towards your side and running his hand over your stomach. 

“Dabi,” you mutter against his lips, “condom.”

His eyes open slowly and he pulls away from you. He gives you a small smile, lips upturning and he tilts his head. His smile is soft and then shifts into haughty. “I don’t feel like wearing one tonight.” His kisses are fleeting as they move down your neck, pressing against the collar of your shirt and soon your clothes are tossed to the side, rough hands rolling your breasts in each. His cockhead hits at your inner thighs, leaving a sticky residue behind, trailing slowly down the curve of your thigh and into your mattress. 

Your take in a sharp inhale when he pushes his length inside of you, closing your eyes and your fingers tap against the bedsheets in a nervous tic. He moves slowly, rocking his hips in and out of you, eyes shut tightly as he looms above you, tongue coming out to swipe his lips. He breathes heavy, breath fanning out in wisps and his body begins to burn. He’s always  been hot- no doubt thanks to his quirk- and when you had first begun your relationship, you cherished it, leaning against him and calling him your own heater. Yet, now, as he turns hot, heat intensifies from deep within him and it's too much- uncomfortable and making you sweat under him as he mouths curses under his breath.

It wasn’t always like this- the odd touches that left a print, the fierce kisses that dripped with lust and need rather than playfulness and smugness, the threats that become more vocal as time went on. It was fun at first- a wild experience that you got to keep as a secret- knowing that you had sex with a criminal who kept coming back for more because you were “irresistible”. 

“I love you,” he mumbles, placing a kiss on your still lips. 

Tears make your vision blurry, droplet that aren’t enough to flood over and spill down your cheeks, they burn and there’s a tightness in your throat that matches the burning sensations, something painful and lumpy and you wonder if this is the new norm for you- to be awaken in the middle of the night and have a former friend threaten you into consent. He’s right- you allowed him to stay even after you found out who he was; you really have no one to blame but yourself and now here in your bed, blanket pushed to the side as a tear finally manages to slide down.