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AFO groomed Tomura since he was young. He’s kind and gentle with him and on the rare occasion strict, just enough to make Tomura fear him leaving him behind so he’ll cling tighter.
He convinces Tomura that Sensei’s touches are good, that good boys spread their legs for their saviours and played with their kitty when it ached, whenever they pleased.
Tomura spends so much time isolated that he doesn’t realise that touching oneself in front of others is ‘inappropriate’. Tomura just knows that Sensei said he can touch it whenever it felt hot and wet, especially if Sensei can’t help pet his cute little kitty himself. Sensei is a busy man after all…
So when Tomura meets Dabi, he’s surprised by the sudden ache in his panties, the need to grind his kitty into whatever he could to make it happy and stop throbbing.
It doesn’t stop him from reach under his waistband to touch though. To please the part of him only Sensei has seen.
“What the hell are you doing?” He doesn’t think about the answer. He tells him point blank and keeps rubbing, his kitty gushing at the way glowing blue eyes darken. He moans loudly and digs two fingers in without restraint. No one ever told him to be quiet, after all. Sensei liked that he was loud.
Then those lips twitch and spread wide in a grin, staples straining under the purely predator look Dabi gives him.
“I can please your…’kitty’ much better than you could, pet.”
“Like Sensei?” It’s a whimper, cheek pressed against the table as he grinds his joy button against his palm.
“Better than ‘Sensei’,” It’s closer to a growl than a purr and it makes whatever anger Tomura could have scrounged up in defence of his Sensei fall away with a moan.
He wants Dabi to make his sticky kitty happy more than he wants to be angry.
Dabi’s hands are coarse with callouses but so warm it almost burns; it makes Tomura wonder if he’s always running hot, or if Tomura has made him this way.
Sensei always said Tomura had a way of manipulating people into wanting to touch him despite his appearance, that that’s why he couldn’t be alone with others until he was old enough. Sensei was too strong to be persuaded by Tomura’s charm, of course. He just knows someone has to satisfy him, and he’s such a good caretaker that he does that too. All for his ‘pretty’ Tomura. At least, that’s what he says.
Tomura is just happy someone cares enough to touch his destructive body.
Dabi touches him too despite the scars and the dry skin. Maybe Tomura really did have a charm. If he did, he hopes every person he recruited would care enough about him to keep his kitty content.
Tomura made a sound of complaint as his chest met the table top, wood rubbing against his sensitive nipples. Dabi ignores his whining in favour of pulling his sweatpants and panties down, groaning at the sight of his soaked kitty.
“Fuck, this almost makes up for your face,” Tomura felt a twinge of hurt at the backhanded insult, but he’s too desperate to make Dabi leave.
His kitty had never reacted so strongly to anyone but Sensei. It must really like Dabi, even if he’s cruel with his words.
Rough fingers slide through the mess of his kitty’s lips, fat and plump and dripping around his bony fingers before they sink in deep, a long moan leaving Tomura’s lips. They’re so different from Sensei’s fingers— Dabi’s two fingers feel like one of his and it makes Tomura whine. He wriggled for more and shrieked when a hand clapped against his ass, stinging in a way that made his eyes burn.
He hasn’t been spanked since he was a boy, since before Sensei. His bottom lip trembles.
“God, your ‘Sensei’ must be a freak, bet he’s been fuckin’ you since you were a kid, huh? You’re so loose,” It’s a snide remark and Tomura’s stomach dropped as tears blurred his vision, shaggy hair obscuring his face. He didn’t like this anymore. Dabi was mean, mean-mean, not like Sensei, he wanted Sensei—
“I bet I could stick it in now, you’re probably used to it,” Tomura cried out as the tip sunk into his kitty, clenching like a hissing feline as it forced itself inside, something hard and unyielding tugging at his rim.
“You like that? Six bars, and you took them all,” Tomura squirmed as the last bar inches in and out of his weeping kitty with every little grind.
“I don’t— want to anymore,” Tomura whimpered, trying to pull away from the foreign intrusion. He wanted Sensei to make his kitty happy again, it felt like it was crying as much as Tomura was now.
“Huh?” Tomura winced as the edge of the table smacked into his jutting hipbones, no doubt leaving a bruise as Dabi pinned him against the wood with his body. “You’re the one who got all excited, kitten. Touching yourself in front of the stranger like that, I know you love being a hole to use.”
Tomura shook his head like a snivelling child, squirming under the weight of the man. If he could get his hands out from under him, he could dust him. He could apologise to Sensei later with his mouth the way he likes, and Sensei would kiss his kitty better until he cried happy tears.
The tip of his studded prick kissed the deepest part of him and he whined. Only Sensei was supposed to reach there, to rub against his womb until he felt he might break.
“No,” He kicked up a fuss, close to a tantrum as Dabi pressed his cheek to the cheap table, tiny splinters prickling against his skin as a warm palm grew hot.
“Be a good kitten or I’ll singed off your fur. It’s the only thing that keeps you looking half-fuckable.” Dabi sneered.
Tomura’s breath hitched at the threat, feelings a burning thumb against his cheek as tears soaked his lashes, slipping down his nose. Dabi grinned.
“Oh, I think that expression.” A studded tongue flicked over the bridge of his nose, his thighs cutting into the wood as the man licked up his tears. “Keep crying for me, precious. I want everyone who wants to join your little parade of misfits to know you’ll spread your legs for anyone.”
“No,” Tomura choked on his words as Dabi’s hips snapped forward, the squelch of his kitty making his face burn.
No, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, Tomura had wanted Dabi to make him feel good but now he was just scared. He wanted Sensei.
Tomura felt a rush of heat flood through him as Dabi pistoled his length into him, the bars rubbing up on all the sensitive spots as he sobbed, chanting a soft string of “no, no, no,” despite the reluctant pleasure. He missed Sensei’s kindness, he wanted to feel cherished and pretty, not like this. He felt like dirt below Dabi’s boot, helpless and out of control. His voice shaky and pitched with every sniffle and moan, face wet.
Dabi’s burning hand cracked against his ass and he screamed, trying harder to wriggle out from under the stranger.
“Sensei, Sensei, p-please,” He sobbed, calling for his Sensei to save him. He did it once, he did it so many times, he’d do it again. Sensei still cared for him…
“You really can’t do anything without your precious Sensei, can you?” Dabi sounded smug despite his breathlessness, not pausing in his harsh thrusts or the rough grip on the younger ass. “Your Sensei’s not going to save you, kitten. You’re all mine tonight.”
Tomura gasped as Dabi’s hips stuttered and molten spurts of thick milk filled his kitty. He wanted to screech. Dabi wasn’t allowed to do that. He wasn’t allowed to feed his kitty, not like Sensei does, warm and full and overflowing down his thighs.
“S-sensei…” He hiccuped, still aching inside even as he sobbed. Dabi hasn’t touched his joy button once, it wasn’t fair. His kitty was sore and hurt. “‘M s-sorry,” Sensei would be mad at him, he was sure of it. He told Sensei he was an adult now, that he could handle the responsibilities, but now he was crying like a child.
“God, quit whining, get in line with the daddy issues, brat.” Dabi pulled out and he feels like he’s gaping, shivering at the cool air against his abused kitty. The man wiped his soiled length off on the burn on his ass and Tomura whimpered.
Tendrils of anger coiled in his gut.
He would kill him for this. For humiliating him. For his words against Sensei.
“Sorry about this, kitten.” He doesn’t sound the least bit apologetic as his fingers thread through his pale blue hair and slams his face into the table again, and again, and again, until his vision goes black.
When Tomura awakens, he finds himself in the dark. There are gentle fingers trailing along his ass, caressing the reddened patch of skin. Tomura’s eyes watered, head throbbing with pain.
“Sensei…” He whispered, not caring for his nudity as he curled into his arms.
He felt safe there. Cherished. “I’m sorry, Sensei,” He sniffled. “I— I promised I could h-handle it…”
Sensei doesn’t respond, simply rubbing his big warm hand along Tomura’s thigh. It’s familiar and Tomura thinks it might be Sensei’s way of saying it’s okay. That he’s forgiven.
He gasps softly as those familiar hands curl around his kitty, teasing it’s pink lips with thick fingers Tomura loved.
“My poor thing. He made a mess of you and you didn’t even get to decay him afterwards.” Tomura whimpered as two fingers slipped into his kitty, feeling dribbles of milk escape. He felt nauseated at the knowledge that Sensei’s nice suit was being dirtied by someone else’s mess.
“I hated it.” Tomura rasped. “I thought I’d like it, but he was mean, Sensei. I can’t trust my kitty,” He gritted his teeth, angry at the knowledge that his kitty was gullible.
“Our bodies tend to betray us, Tomura.” His Sensei said wisely as he dug deeper into his kitty, more thick white milk seeping from it, down his rear and onto Sensei’s suit.
“S-Sensei,” He moaned softly as Sensei’s palm rubbed against his joy button, making his thighs twitch with waves of pleasure. He loved Sensei’s hands. He knew just where to touch to make Tomura feel better, to make his kitty hot and wet.
“Don’t entrust this part of yourself to anyone else, Tomura. Never again. This part is only for us.” Tomura keened as he jerked into every little grind.
“Yes Sensei, I— I promise,” Tomura bit his lower lip as he felt the pleasure build, Sensei’s petting making his kitty throb and gush with little whimpers.
“Don’t disappoint me again, Tomura. I don’t want to be angry with you. You’re much too pretty.”
Tomura squeaked out his orgasm with a long whine against Sensei’s shoulder, his kitty clenching around Sensei’s fingers while he drenched Sensei’s suit pants, bucking and grinding into it as the onslaught of pleasure consumed him. His face felt hot, eyes wet and drool cooling on the corner of his lip and chin.
He bit back a noise of protest as Sensei’s fingers left his kitty.
“There you go. You needed that, didn’t you?” Sensei’s lips pressed gently against his burning red cheek, licking the salt of Tomura’s tears off his lips. “This is why you save this part of yourself for me now, Tomura. No one will satisfy you the way you need. Only me.”
“Yes, Sensei,” Tomura panted softly, feeling sleepy. His head still hurt but he felt content in Sensei’s arm. His eyes drooped.
“Rest now, Tomura. Sensei will make sure your ‘kitty’ is okay.” Sensei always sounds like he wants to chuckle when Tomura refers to it that way.
“M’kay…” Tomura’s eyes slid shut as he curled up closer in Sensei’s arms. Sensei said he could rest. “Thank you, Sensei…”
He doesn’t hear Sensei’s response, whether or not he gives one.
“Sleep well, brother.” Sensei hums as he pets pale blue hair sweetly.
He’d fuck his little prodigy tenderly tonight. He wouldn’t want to disturb his rest.
He should thank that estranged Todoroki for giving his boy an important lesson.