Let Me Adore You

Summary ; Was is to bad that you wanted to dedicate your life to the deranged villain? Dabi planned to use you until you broke, and that probably wasn't going to happen anytime soon.

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To this day, you weren’t completely sure what had attracted you to Dabi so much. You had a basic idea of why you adored him, but not a detailed picture in your head. You had trouble deciphering whether it was that horrid personality of his that piqued your interest, or the ugly violet scars that dripped underneath his white lashes.

Or maybe it was those icy blue eyes of his that somehow always managed to know what was going on in your brain. Always able to tell when you wanted his company or when you wanted to feel his warm hands dragging up your spine.

Either way, you were very much a goner for Dabi.

Whatever he wanted, you were there to serve it on a silver platter, both figuratively and literally. And you did it all with great love and fulfillment, because as soon as those silken praises rolled off his tongue in response to you doing a good job, you were putty in his hands.

Whether he was calling you a, “Dirty fucking *****,” With the harsh command to, “Sit on the floor.”

Or when he was purring a lustful, “Good little girl,” With the gentle request to, “Spread your legs.”

--you were simply eager to please.

Anything he said to you that indicated satisfaction or contentment had you turning into a sopping mess between your legs. It was just biology.

You’d like to say that you had some control over your own actions around him, but that would be a bit of a fib. As soon as you felt his heated body loom over you or his croaky voice rasp into your ear, your brain shut down so the only light bulb going off inside your skull was the one that was labeled Touya Todoroki.

Unfortunately, sometimes you heard that voice or felt the heat of his blue fire even while he was gone, so instinctually, you found that you needed to relieve yourself or else you wouldn’t be able to think straight for the remainder of the day.

However, sometimes you were careless--it was only natural--so Dabi had caught you on multiple occasions with your hand down your panties and your back arching off your bed. That man was just as perverse as you though, so rather than scold you for neglecting your household duties or forgetting to greet him at the door--you couldn’t help it, you were trapped in a cycle of pleasuring yourself--he’d stop and watch.

He’d stand at the door with an arm crossed over his chest, hip leaned into the doorframe while you got yourself off, encouraging your behavior by calling you derogatory names.

It wasn’t your fault that whenever Dabi muttered a venomous, “Pathetic cock *****,” under his breath you got further aroused.

And it certainly wasn’t your fault that the sight of his tented jeans made you whimper in hopes he would fulfill your selfish desires.

Sometimes Dabi wouldn’t just loiter by your door and gaze. No, there were times where he couldn’t simply let the show go ignored so he filmed you with his phone, pushing aside all the stuffed animals on your bed to fall to the floor so he could stick the flashing camera lens at your dripping *****, capturing every little drop that leaked around your fingers.

“Need a little help?” He’d ask with a vile smirk, but you knew he wasn’t really asking. If Dabi wanted to touch you, you were in no position to refuse him, not that you wanted to anyways.

So you nodded eagerly and he shoved three long fingers right into your cunt to give you the pleasure you so desired, “How’s that? Is that better for my little pet?” The condescending words should have made you revolt and push him away, but they didn’t create that type of reaction out of you

All you could do was confirm and rock your hips up to meet his knuckles, looking into his eyes while the camera recorded every minute of you turning into a complete and utter wreck for Dabi.

Dabi, Dabi, Dabi.

Apparently, Dabi loved to have recordings of you on hand because--according to him--the man missed you when he was out and about. You were more than happy to oblige him with those whims of his, letting him film as many sex tapes as his heart desired. Any normal girl would be concerned that he demanded such pornography, but you had no fear of them being leaked because you knew in your heart that Dabi preferred to keep you all to himself.

It wasn't like you could be angry if he chose to share the videos, but it felt nice and warm to know Dabi kept that collection of nudes in a private folder.

So, you knew Dabi thought about you when the two of you were separated during the day.

But did you?

Did you think about Dabi?

Oh, you did more than simply ‘think’ about him.

Your whole life revolved around him and only him. Every second, minute, and hour of the day.

There wasn’t a single moment where you didn’t have that man’s voice ringing in your head. Not a moment when you weren't curling up on the couch to take an afternoon nap, his shirt pressed to your nose because the aroma that wafted off the cotton material helped you pretend he was there with you.

And here was your favorite, not a moment when you weren’t remembering just how well he had fucked you the night before.

Even while Dabi was off and away, doing his usual villain work, and you were left alone in the apartment, you couldn’t stop thinking about the man you somehow called your lover. Yes, that’s right, lover. There was no exaggerating that you had a very deep appreciation for the villain and loved him for all his glory.

And by glory you meant whether he was terrorizing the general public on television or making you bend over to let him defile your body, you were always just so thrilled to do whatever he asked of you.

It was pure and utter devotion.

And much like how you were addicted to him, Dabi just couldn’t get enough of you.

To Be Continued~

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