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"You're here again," You look up from your bag to the raven-haired man behind the parlor counter, "Are you finally here for yourself?" His tone is husky, creating a string of chills that rush down the length of your spine. He always asks you the same question whenever you step through the doors, you come here often because of your friends as sort of an "emotional support". You've never actually gotten a tattoo or piercing for yourself, and you don't really want one quite yet.
Your friend stumbling in behind you already gives him his answer, he gives an overly dramatic sigh and tuts, "C'mon, stops by for yourself, I promise to take good care of you. You'd look good with just about anything..." He leans in to examine your face, chuckling at how you sheepishly lean back. Your friend clears her throat, you know why she and your other friends always come here... for him. It is so obvious in the outfits they wear and their change in behavior, suddenly picking on you to get him to laugh is on their agenda. Not to mention how any ounce of attention he gives to you, they fight to win back.
Dabi, you learned that was his name a few weeks ago, hands her the clipboard before turning back to you. His arms lean against the counter, decorated in an array of traditional tattoos you cannot quite decipher but you find stunning, "Maybe a nose ring?" He asks, "You'd look cute with a little one right here..." He pokes your bottom lip, purposely dragging it down just a bit. You shove his hand away flustered, shaking off his suggestions with a simple I'd probably pass out.
He traces your features, humming at your words, and trying to picture something on you. He is genuine when he says anything would look great on you, but he finds your face so cute as it is, he would feel almost bad piercing a hole through it. He wonders how your supple breasts look, two metal bars through your nipples, he can imagine you holding up your shirt for him, so innocent you can't even realize his excessive groping is unprofessional. All the things he could do to you, and you probably would not even say anything, just take it.
The clipboard hits the counter, his turquoise eyes snapping to your friend who has her arms crossed beneath her breasts, gradually growing impatient with the lack of acknowledgment. You tuck your bag under your arm and back away, knowing that you're only obstructing her chance at getting his number. Ever since the third time you visited the shop, Dabi has been talking a lot more with you. It was strange how suddenly his attention was diverting from your friends, who always looked stunning, to you who showed up in either pajamas or your casual attire from the day.
He always asks you about your day, you find it sweet that he cares enough, but lately, your friends have grown a little malicious due to him "choosing" you over them. It has not been fun, to say the least, having girls who you thought were your friends instigate you over some man.
"So, what're you getting?" Dabi asks, not even bothering to read what she wrote on the form. She answers a quiet tongue piercing, using that sultry sweet tone she is known for. He only hums, not really interested in details, before motioning for you both to follow him into the back.
Your friend doesn't appear happy with him waving for you both, which doesn't make sense since you always go into the back room with them, "Does she have to come in the back?" Your friend, Izumo, asks. You look to her with confusion, then back at Dabi, backing away slightly as to not cause any trouble.
"Well, no..." He says with a shrug, "But there isn't anyone to work the counter right now, so it'd be easier to have her in the back... she looks all sweet, but I bet behind that cute smile she's a klepto." Dabi looks down at you with a smirk, bringing his hand to the top of your head and guiding you to keep walking, "There's plenty of room, a tongue piercing is quick."
There is no way to describe the tension, thick and anything but comforting. Between Dabi drumming his fingers on the top of your head, and your friend sauntering behind you both, you're sure she will tell you off after about letting him get all cozy with you. Truly, you don't mean for it to happen, but you don't want to be rude and act cold with him. He is really nice to you, and it isn't every day a guy bothers to ask about your day and give you attention.
The backroom is fairly spacious, the cold table set up where Izumo makes herself comfortable, Dabi pulling a chair from the neighboring room so you can have somewhere to sit. It smells just like him, which you can assume is from the small bottle of cologne on the counter where he has his personal belongings. He reeks of smoke, disinfectant, and that masculine cologne that has this lemony under smell to it.
"What about your eyebrow?" He picks up right where he left off, nagging you about ideas that just don't appeal to you, "Or maybe one on your ear? There's gotta be something you want..." He washes his hands in the sink beside you, looking at you fumble with your phone shyly, "If you don't want a piercing, I'll happily tattoo you." The sound of the glove squeezing over his fingers and snapping against his wrist fill the silence, other than his talking and you humming a small nope to him.
"You do tattoos, too?" Your friend pipes up, you and Dabi look at her on the table, "I didn't know that... what do you like to do?" It is clear what she is trying to do, Dabi knows this game, girls do it all the time. They scrape and fight for his affection or the slightest acknowledgment. He's seen how your friends treat you and it only makes him want to smother you more just to piss them off, as well as see you giggle and turn red in the ears.
He doesn't answer right away, laying out the tools he needs for the quick piercing, "Uhh," He puts on the tray a clamp, a needle, the tongue bar, and some pads to wipe around the tongue for before and after the piercing, "It kinda depends, I don't always tattoo clients... depends on if I like them or not, I'm not comfortable tattooing strangers." He sets the tray beside her on the table and stands in front of her spread legs.
"Oh, that's a shame..." She tilts her head with a frown, both disappointed in his answer and the fact he doesn't catch on to the fact her legs are spread open for him to stand between them, "Guess that means I'll just have to visit you more often, hm?"
"Sure, as long as you make an appointment." He unwraps the clamp from its packaging and tests it, making sure it works properly. He uses the pads to swipe at the area of her tongue he is piercing, not wanting any saliva to obstruct the process, "Stick out your tongue as far as you can and don't move." As he swabs her tongue, collecting the saliva before grabbing the marker to spot where the needle will go in and out from, he calls out to you.
"Psst," He says over his shoulder, "C'mere, think you can order my lunch while I do this?" You look to your friend nervously, knowing she will be upset, but it would be rude to decline him. You cautiously approach him, following his vision to his phone, "Get that, the code is just a bunch of sixes... it'll automatically open once the right amount goes in." You follow his instructions, grabbing his phone, which isn't in the best shape, and press the six on the code pad until it unlocks, "Now go to the third folder, at the bottom should be that app... it's like bootleg Uber Eats."
At the bottom of the folder is the app you assume he is describing, opening it to see a bunch of recommendations based on previous orders, "Surprise me with something, I've been eating the same shit all week." His fingers wipe at the mark he made, adjusting it to sit more at the center of her tongue before applying the clamp, "Oh, actually... Thai sounds fucking great right now."
You listen to him babbling about what he likes, inputting his order bit by bit, and making sure you get it right, "Isn't this a lot for just lunch...?" He hums, peering over your shoulder and pointing at what he could live without. You place the order, letting him know when it should arrive before putting his phone back where you picked it up from.
"Thanks, doll face," He coos at you, "Now when do I get to stick a needle in you?" You groan at his insistence, unaware of the growing aggravation of Izumo who watches the way he treats you. She had thought your mutual friends were exaggerating, but seeing how friendly he is with you in comparison to her, the jealousy in her stomach bubbles up. Here she is dressed up, her chest practically hanging out, and you're just sitting there and being shy... what is it that you have and she doesn't?
Internally, he is laughing at the absolute look of both confusion and distaste your friend is being consumed by, but he is also disgusted by how girls can so easily disregard their friends over a guy. You haven't done anything but sit there, he is almost embarrassed for the girl, bringing the piercing needle to the top of her tongue and lining it with the mark he made, "I'm going to do it now, okay?" She nods and closes her eyes, face scrunching up as the needle stabs through her tongue.
You watch him replace the needle with the metal bar, twisting the rounded ball onto the end of it whilst wiping at the blood and saliva that sticks to her tongue and chin. He draws away and hands her a mirror to examine the final product, Dabi silently cleans up the area, not saying much to either of you while your friend babbles about how good it looks, the reason she wanted it, and thanking him for taking care of her. Dabi brushes her off with a bland it is my job, making you slightly giggle.
"Ah, so she does laugh a little," Dabi leans over to look you in the eyes with a lazy smile, "Now it's your turn, cutie, get on the table." He nods his head to the table, to which you quickly shake your head, "Aw, c'mon, it'll only pinch a little... I think I know exactly what I wanna give you." His eyes trail down from your neck to your chest, smirking at the flustered expression that immediately crosses her face.
"She wouldn't be able to handle it," Izumo pipes up snarkily, coming to a stand and grabbing her things, "Last year we and a couple of friends wanted to get matching tattoos, but she chickened out on the spot." She flashes the small tattoo at her wrist that you were also supposed to have, you were shocked she would bring that up, especially since you cried an apology to them after the whole ordeal. You felt guilty for ruining the trip, and they even said it was fine, so why did she have to bring it up now?
The raven-haired man wipes his hands on his pants with a monotonous expression, "Well, they say matching tattoos are bad luck," He looks down at you, "Plus, it would be a hassle to get a cover-up if any of you were to stop being friends... she'll get a tattoo when she's ready," He traces down your body and swipes his tongue over his teeth, "And I'm gonna be the one to pop her tattoo cherry."
His play of words has your abdomen tightening, you hate that you love his attention, how every time he talks to one of your friends he has to bring you into the mix, that you're the focus of his attention during these trips. You hate that you love seeing your friends get jealous and sneer at you, but it's just a little fun... right? Your friend heads for the door, smoking practically pouring from her ears at how he treats you.
Dabi moves behind you, sneaky fingers running down your back and pushing something into your pocket, "You have some strange friends," He whispers into your ear, fingers digging into the curve of your ass before he pulls his hand away, "When am I gonna get to be alone with you? Promise it won't hurt too much..."
"U-Um, I don't know..." You look down at the hand he keeps on your waist, "I-I'll think about it, maybe something new wouldn't be too bad..." He smiles at that, he just wants to have an excuse to be with you alone. You're such a pretty piece of ass, so naive and cute, he wants to ravish you and ruin you... but at the same time see how long he can keep you on the hook. See what you have hidden behind your innocent smiles and shy pouts.
You look over your shoulder at him, waving your friends as a farewell before you slip out the door with your friend. She immediately turns to you with a look you have seen before, "Ugh, what was that? Hinami said he would be all over you, but I thought she was exaggerating." You follow her to your car, unlocking the door, "Next time, remind me not to invite you, m'kay? You didn't even try to shove him away or anything, if you don't want him just say it so some of us can get a bit of that."
You don't really pay attention, whatever he slipped in your back pocket is practically burning a hole in your cheek, all you want is to reach back and see what it is. Though you know if you do, Izumo will only be in your business and raise her voice more. You definitely need some new friends, as soon as possible.
The drive is tense, but after dropping her off at her apartment complex, the tenacity from before evaporates into thin air and you finally have the chance to reach into your pocket. You pull out a folded piece of paper, his name messily scrawled on the front with a silly little smiley face, On the inside reads his phone number, and just below it is a note reading, 'text me when you get the chance, I'm gonna convince you to stop by for yourself one of these days.'
His words shouldn't make you smile, and you shouldn't add his number into your phone... he is no good, he has that look to him, one that reads trouble. You are sure he has his share of affairs, side flings. He reads heartbreaker, but part of you believes he didn't give you his number to be anything serious, knowing that will at least keep you from getting too close with him.
Nonetheless, you put in his number and text him. A few words won't harm anyone, right?
'Hi, Dabi... right? I just got the chance to read the note. I'll get a tattoo or piercing if I want, none of your convincing will change my mind, sorry! <3'
You send the rather light message, not expecting him to text you back, or at least not right away. You drive the rest of the way home, unaware that he so quickly texted you back. He had been waiting for your message, after all. To say that he was on the edge of his seat since you left would be an accurate description, he honestly did not expect for you to even acknowledge the note, but the moment an unknown number popped up and he read the text... he knew it was you.
When you get inside, and only after changing into pajamas and grabbing a snack from your kitchen cupboard, do you check the list of notifications on your phone; social media, the news, emails, miscellaneous... Dabi. The message burns into your phone and you almost think not to look at it, should you? You should, you did text him first.
I didn't think you'd message me, pretty girl... did you just get home?
You give him affirmation that you're home, chewing the chip you just popped into your mouth. Not even the television is as interesting as this right now, you don't like how excited you are to see him waiting on your every response. So quickly texting you back, it makes butterflies come to life in your stomach.
That's good. Now about that piercing... how about the lip? Like a little vertical labret?
He lists off different piercings, tattoo ideas... more than just dedicated to persuading you. Each time you give him cheeky rejections, reminding him about how you wouldn't be able to handle it. Dabi finds you amusing, he can almost picture you now in your cute pajamas in bed, looking at his messages. What he would give to see you, tight shorts and no bra beneath your shirt.
You ask him about his day, to which he gives you a flirty little, 'Sucked until I got to see you walk in again, visit me more often.' It's such a cheesy comment, one that shouldn't make you smile against your hand, he shouldn't be making you feel like this. It is humiliating, but it's just a bit of flirting... no strings attached.
The message is sent before you even properly think it through, fingers quickly typing up, 'What do you think would look best on me?' The three dancing dots almost pop up immediately, as if he had been waiting for that specific question. You wait patiently, the dots appearing and disappearing, clearly, he is trying to word his message correctly.
As you wait, you think of all the times you have visited the shop. You're familiar with the faces who work there, aside from Dabi you have seen a blonde-haired young man with golden eyes and a slight scruff on his chin. You never spoke to him, but he did smile at you once, that was as far as the exchange went. Another face was a lanky figure with white locks, eyes red as blood and he looked to have a skin condition. He was not bad looking at all, and you spoke to him a few times after he recognized a charm on your keychain.
Of course, you have no seen him for some time, but that is as far as the exchange went, discussing mutual interests in shows or games. He was nice, a bit standoffish and vague, but still nice to talk with when your friends wanted Dabi to themselves. You wonder if Dabi had not picked interest in you if you would have found yourself chatting with the white-haired young man. You never caught his real name but you're sure you have heard the others refer to him as Shiggy.
The message goes through and you look at your screen, the message is a bit longer, but nothing that you aren't willing to read.
Well, I was thinking of a lip piercing, but your face is so pretty... it would be a shame to poke any holes in it. Maybe something more hidden? A septum, a smiley... maybe I could do a tongue piercing on you, too?
They all sound fine, you would prefer something more hidden, but you've heard some disaster stories regarding both smileys and septums. A tongue piercing doesn't sound awful, but supposedly they are bad for your teeth and you're sure your friend will accuse you of copying her. Dabi finds your thinking amusing, turning each suggestion down with a more than valid reason. You're cute, not letting yourself live a little and take the risks.
You're just making my job a little difficult... what about one on your pussy?
Your eyes widen at the message, it is a bit much, the idea of having a needle near down there sounds painful. Your bottom lip is captured between your teeth, words failing you at the mere image of him between your legs. The pain would only be a second, his lips kissing it better... it sends shocks to your core and you find your legs crossing to secure the involuntary arousal his text caused.
Once again you decline the suggestion, fearful of this effect he has on you. You should not let yourself get drunk on his words, wait on his messages. Yet here you are watching your screen, watching him type, watching that delivered turn into read. What does he see in you? It's humiliating to have someone so attractive hang over your shoulder. He is far out of your league on several levels.
You're killing me, babe. Come into the parlor sometime, I'll convince you to get something. (;
Of course, he will, you know he will somehow convince you. It is impossible for you to ignore the way his words have you wanting to please him, to impress him. It feels like high school again, doing anything to grasp the awareness of your crush, for them to notice you and set you apart from the rest. You hate this giddy feeling in your tummy, like a million little butterflies dancing and spinning, throwing a party simply over a few words some man sent you.
To say the least, it is humiliating. You need to end the conversation now before that heat between your legs begins to get hotter, or the palpations of your chest cause an attack. Your fingers quickly type a goodnight, 'I'll think about it! You've given me ideas to think about... maybe you'll see me soon. But I have to go to bed, it's been a long day. Get some rest soon, Dabi. (:'
He returns a cheeky, 'Good night, pretty girl who just so happens to be extremely stubborn.' You smile at the message, partially choking yourself out for ending the conversation so soon. It is for the best, you remind yourself, you need to understand boundaries. Your thighs rub together slowly, relieving only a sliver of the pressure, but you crave more than you want to give yourself. The embarrassment, the shame of touching yourself to the thought of someone you barely know.
But he won't know... not unless he has cameras set up in your room. Dabi doesn't have to know that you are slipping your fingers own your abdomen, imagining it is his tattooed hands doing it. You wonder how they would feel on bare skin, you have never felt his skin against yourself, but you can imagine his palms are rough from hours of accurately and precisely sticking needles in someone.
The thought of rough fingers tugging down your shorts and panties, leaving them to hang at your knees in favor of grazing the slick that covers your swollen cunny. What would he tell you? He'd probably call you pretty girl or babe, whispering about how wet you are, how your slick is sticking to his rings and countless rings that adorn his knuckles. You always admire the jewelry that graces his skin, the chains that hang from his neck, the tongue piercing that glistens against the light when he talks, no to mention the several studs and size 14mm gauges that pierce his ears.
He makes it all look so elegant, so mysterious. The piercings and tattoos going hand in hand, like a story over his body. You imagine your nails tracing the spirals and splashes of color along his skin, his raspy voice whispering the story of each into your ear. Sweat coating your bodies and sticking together all at once, your fingers speed up in their mission to have you cum. The knot in your stomach twisting but never quite snapping, edging yourself just so you can think of him longer.
Is his cock covered in piercings, too? Ladder bars running along the underside of his shaft with a metal ball piercing the crown of his cock, the thought of each metal piece dragging along your gummy walls, rubbing against your throat. Would it hurt? It shouldn't, right? You wonder if he would whisper sweet nothings in your ear, words of praise on how well you take his dick, how pretty you look beneath him...
Your toes curl as the tips of your fingers rub that small patch, massaging the sweet spot that brings you right onto the edge. A spill of his name bleeds from your throat, filthy and soft, whimpering and whining as your fingers pump faster with intent. It feels so good, but you're sure he could make you feel a lot better than this.
Finally, you pull your fingers from your tight cunny and watch as a drop of your cum splashes onto your pulled down shorts, ears tinted red and face scrunched up with pleasure. You sigh a final saying of his name, patting your swollen cunny to ease yourself through that sensitive stage of your high. Only when your poor clit loses reaction to your touches, do you roll over and take the walk of shame to your bathroom. You can feel your slick sticking to your thighs, a reminder that you had just fingered yourself over a man who you texted for no more than five minutes.
In all your years of living, not once have you touched yourself to the thought of someone. It always feels so awkward, strange. You fear that somehow, despite being alone in your room, they will know that the night before they were on your mind whilst your fingers touched places far too private. You go to bed that night sick, not necessarily with guilt anymore, but with something unfamiliar. A sick sense of want, an urge to visit him as he asked.
Maybe, just maybe, you will find yourself in the parlor for yourself.
A week goes by, small talk exchanged between you both, Dabi constantly trying to persuade you to let him take you out for lunch, and you cheekily declining. He is hooked on your game of cat and mouse, leading him on before declining any plans he tries to make with you. You're playing hard to get and he loves it, he finds himself craving your presence, texting you more often than he cares to admit.
Even his coworker, Tomura, noticed his strange behavior. He hates how easy he is to read, they know his games, when he finds a chick he is interested in Dabi likes to play a bit before taking what he wants and ghosting them. But you seem to know his game well, twisting and turning around every jab he tries to give. A dance between you both that he continues to stumble over. He wants to see you again, even if you're accompanying one of your many obnoxious friends, he wants to see you so bad it is frustrating.
So when he hears the bell of the door ring on a lazy Wednesday afternoon, he expects it to be a regular or an appointment made. His eyes casting up, but he catches sight of familiar legs he has ogled over a hundred times before, clad in the cutest stockings he has ever seen. He travels further up, over the curve of hips and chest, meeting your shy eyes. Part of him believes manifestation is real, that all this time he spent thinking of you is what got you to appear. Though he waits for a plus one to come in after you.
But they never do.
You quickly approach the counter, clutching that same bag you always bring, "I-I..." You look down at the outfit you put together, specifically for him, "I realized it wasn't your... um, lunch break after I was halfway here." Turquoise eyes trace your figure snug in the cute little dress you have on, you know how to get him riled up, if he had known you looked so good all dressed up... he would have been more persistent on taking you out.
Dabi watches you point to something, the clipboard to sign in, "You're getting something done?" His voice comes out a bit louder than intended, a tone of disbelief tainting his smoke-flavored tongue. You only nod, playing with your fingers, nails neatly polished, and taking the pen he offers you, "Did you figure out what you want?"
"I think so," You say, neatly scribbling your information on the paper, "B-But I wanted to talk with you about it... just a little nervous." He watches you bring the pen to input what you want, eyes glue to the paper as you quickly write down the one piercing he did not expect you to choose. His eyes falling from their sockets, rereading what you wrote at least five times. Dabi even rubs at the ink, making sure it was actually imprinted in the paper before accepting that those are your words.
His tongue swipes over his teeth, a devilish grin overcoming the look of shock he previously wore, "Well, it's my job to make sure you feel comfortable, right?" You nod and allow him to smoothly snake an arm around your waist, "You make me wait almost a month, begging you to let me have you on my table..." His fingers rub soothing circles against your side, side-eyeing his coworkers who peek out to confirm their suspicions that their friend finally has what he wants, "And you choose my favorite thing to pierce, babe?"
You enter the room you have been in many times before, the same familiar scent of him surrounding you in a thick cloud. The only thing different from previous visits is that you're the one climbing onto the table and not someone else, your bag occupying the chair you have sat in up until this point. Dabi hates the giddiness in his chest seeing you there, so cute and scared, clawing at your dress and doing your best to hide the fear in your eyes. He can see through you, the anxiety and faint look of humiliation.
"What're you so nervous about, sweetheart?" He sighs, coming to stand right in front of you, closer than he would be if it were one of your friends on this table. He wants you to part your supple thighs to let him in, for you to lean forward and coo at him, begging for his attention. He wants you to be a ditsy little whore, but you just sit there and can barely meet his gaze without quickly looking away.
The question echoes in your head, so many things could be the answer to that. Maybe it's the fact you're going to be pulling down the front of your dress to show him your tits? The fact that he's going to have to hold them whilst piercing a middle through the hardened flesh of your nipples? All of it has a tingly sensation vibrating in your stomach, one that makes you hold your legs tighter together.
"I'm just not a fan of needles," You partially lie, "Will it hurt a lot?" He melts at the way you dwell on the little things, scared of the pain rather than him being able to easily take advantage of the fact you'll have your dress pulled down, "I just don't want it to be a hassle or anything."
Dabi leans forward, hands on either side of your hips, his nose nearly brushing against yours. The action has your breath catching in your throat, he doesn't miss the way you clench your thighs together, crossing them just slightly to hide the fact you are aroused. He grins at that, thumbs caressing where your hips meet your thighs, "I'll take care of you. Let me start with seeing what I'm working with, is that fine?" His minty, smoke tainted breath wafts against your face in a warm cloud, the action alone making a shiver run down your arms.
He draws away to give you space, watching you slowly slip the bands of your dress over your shoulders, the elastic of your bra strap falling with it. The fabric of the dress falls around your abdomen, revealing the lace of your bra to his eyes. You can feel his eyes on you, the action making you more than just a little self-conscious. Do you look okay? Is he disappointed?
The cups of your bra hang loose when you unclasp the back and finally you remove the article of clothing and set it beside you. Dabi's eyes never once leave you, printing the image of your supple, perfect tits forever in his memory. He comes closer, "You mind?" Playfully making grabby hands at your chest, it is hard not to laugh just a little, giving him that nod of approval he needs. Calloused palms, just as you had imagined that first night, cup the mounds, feeling them a bit more sensually than you would have expected.
His fingers dig into the plush skin, feeling around the curve and tracing the tip of his nail over and around your nipple. He watches the little buds harden under his touch, your chest rises and falls in his very palm, and he doesn't miss the soft little whine that bubbles in the back of your throat, "I-Is something wrong?" You ask, looking at tattooed fingers against your skin, the cold rings the wrap around his fingers making you twitch and shiver, like cold little ice cubes tickling you.
"Nope," His voice is an octave lower, like a deep growl in the pit of his lungs, "You have nice tits." He gives your left nipple a playful squeeze, chuckling at the jut of your hips and scrunched up expression. The girly little whine making his cock ache in his pants, "You're a little sensitive here, though... so it'll probably hurt a little more than most." Your nipples are rolled between his fingers, taking in your held back reactions, shame written in your failed attempts at keeping your soft sighs and whimpers inside.
You hate the thought of pain, even worse crying in front of him, but he promised to be good with you, to take care of you. He has said it plenty of times and you want to believe him. Dabi pulls his hands from your chest, smiling at your conflicted expression, "I won't tell if you cry a little," He hums, fingers dancing across the exposed skin of your tummy, "Can be our secret... you can hold onto me if it'll make you feel a little better." His voice is so soothing, carrying such reassuring words. You hate how the soft smiles and sweet tone he pulls with you makes you feel safe.
Dabi briefly pulls away from you, feather-like touches still lingering on your torso, going to gather what he needs. You wait patiently, what else can you do? You never noticed the tattoos curl around to his back, faintly making them out through the collar of his shirt. He is handsome, you can see why your friends went crazy for him, but you feel like there is more to his character than just a shit ton of tattoos and even more piercings.
The familiar ringing of your phone interrupts your thought, Dabi glancing away from what he was going to your bag, "I got it, which pocket?" He asks, setting down the jewelry he picked to fit you. Last you remember, your phone was in the large middle pocket. His hand digs in there, feeling the vibration of your phone, he successfully pulls it out but not without noticing something else. A grin plasters across his face and he gives you that look, one that says 'Well what do we have here?'
You don't exactly know what he is giving you that look for, you made sure to empty your bag of anything embarrassing! Could you have missed something? Maybe it is just something silly like a bag of candy or one of your menstrual items... but you're not even close to your period date. He is making you nervous, bringing your dress up to cover your chest before shimmying off the counter and hurrying to see what he is focusing on.
"I-I..." Your heart just about stops at the embarrassing realization that your bullet vibrator is still tucked away in your bag, you don't use it often but sometimes it's nice to have it in while driving or just shopping. The subtle vibration always calming you, but you don't remember slipping it in your bag at all this week. Could it be that it fell in when you grabbed something else? Maybe you just forgot to take it out?
"You're adorable," He laughs and hands you your fun, "Wasn't judging, but you should do a better job of hiding that." You look at the name on your screen, seeing it is Izumo, the friend you came with about a week ago. You roll your eyes and toss aside the phone, letting it fall into your bag, "Someone you don't like?"
Dabi looks at your arms hiding your chest with the front of your dress, a shame that you aren't standing here with them out for him to look at while preparing his set up for you, "Kinda... um, remember the friend from last week? You did her tongue." He shrugs, giving you one of those I'm not sure sort of expressions, "She wanted to invite me to some cafe, but I'm still a little upset after last week."
"About the whole crying thing?" You nod, Dabi puts his gloves on and carries the tray to the table, patting the spot for you to come to sit, "Well, don't be embarrassed... I'm sure you look cute when you cry." The comment makes your stomach flip, it's a strange thing to tell a client, but you assume he is only making you feel better. You let the dress fall and reveal your chest, using an alcohol pad to clean up the area on your nipple and around it. He lays down the pad and looks in your eyes, "You okay? Look like you're gonna pass out..."
"Y-Yeah... just... that needles a kinda big, no?" You're getting a bit standoffish, squirming in place and fiddling with your fingers, "I just... just thought it would be a little-" Dabi shushes you with a sadistic grin, though you mistake it for one of playful amusement. His hands feel so good on your thighs, you wish you could continue to feel them without the added pain of that needle piercing your tender buds.
Hands pry open your legs, allowing his hips to move between, your thighs sit snugly around his waist and squeeze him just a bit. He tickles your waist and shifts you just a tad closer, pressing flush against your, "You're shaking," He comments while feeling up your sides, stopping only when he has your face in his palms, "Poor baby, so scared over a little needle..." He muses and leans in until you feel his breath over your lips, "Maybe you need a little distraction, right?"
Two fingers run up your thigh and stop at the elastic of your panties, they're warm against your cold skin, making you shiver in his grasp, "Relax," The two fingers rub against your panties, massaging that little pearl right above your entrance, "You like that, princess? Makes you feel a little better, right?" He relishes in the sweet whines you let him hear, not to mention your soft fingers wrapping around his wrist to keep his hand close, "Good girl, just focus on that..."
While he distracts you with his index and middle fingers, each rubbing against your panties and teasing the top of the flimsy fabric, he eyes your tender breasts and makes sure that the marks he made line up. You don't even notice him continuing his work, so focused on the little surges of pleasure that wrack through you with every little curl and tap of his finger against your swollen clit.
A particularly loud whimper falls from your honeyed tongue, thighs squeezing around his waist tighter, "D-Dabi," You curl up at the intrusion of his fingers caressing the walls of your poor cunny, "N-Not there... too much-" His thumb presses down on your clit, making you shut up immediately. You become so submissive without him putting any effort, such a dirty girl, opening her thighs just for him.
"Alright sweetheart, I need both hands," His fingers are pulled from your sloppy entrance, but something small easily replaces it, "But you're such a smart girl for bringing that little toy," It turns on, buzzing inside of your cunny at the soft spot he had previously been poking and prodding against, "Now sit still for me, alright? Then I'll make sure to kiss it better..."
The buzzing against your walls makes it difficult to sit still, but Dabi lets you hold onto him for stabilization, checking the marks on your nipples one more time before he is lining up the sharp end of the needle with the target. You are so distracted by the buzzing of your bullet vibrator, you barely feel the pinch of the needle penetrating your nipple. In fact, Dabi notices the way your hips arch against him, sputtering at the flickering pain that bubbles on your breast mixed with the pulsating pleasure. He grins at the smallest sliver of drool that sticks to your lips, finding you to look your best when drunk on pleasure.
"Fuck, baby..." He replaces the needle with the straight bar, twisting the ball onto the end of it, "There's one, you did so well... and they look great on these pretty tits of yours." Palms cup your chest, making you giggle and roll your hips against him, "Shit, okay... one more and then I'll play with this cute little pussy, making a mess all over my table." He cups your next breast and once again checks the markings, repeating the process. The stinging of the needle stabbing through tenderized skin has you flinching just a bit, a soft moan bubbling on the inside of your throat.
"Nngh, gonna cum-" You look up at him with a lazy expression, not even caring that your poor tits are sore from being pierced, "W-Wanna cum, Dabi~" He finishes the second jewelry, taking a brief step back to look at you with your legs spread, panties pulled to the side and the little pink vibratory peeking out of your little entrance just a bit. You look so perfect, sweat stuck to your brow, whimpers of gonna cum and Dabi spilling over your little pink tongue, and your nipples swollen and shimmering from the metal bars through them.
If he could, he would take a picture, but right now he wants to see you fall apart in his hands, "Yeah?" He muses while pushing the little vibrator deeper inside of you, "You gonna cum for me, princess? Make a mess on my table?" Your head is bobbing up and down quickly, strangled gasps getting caught in the back of your throat as the seconds pass, "Mm, you're such good girl... gonna make sure you cum all over my dick once I'm done with you."
He drops to his knees in front of you, thighs are thrown over his shoulders, and mouth sloppily kissing the slick entrance of your pussy a few times. He relishes in the sweet little whimpers and whines of his name that sound so sugary when coming from you, he wants to enjoy your flavor, your delicious pussy. He wants to taste you more than he knows, but for now, settles on suckling the bud of your neglected clit.
Every lap of his tongue against your clit leaves your knees weak, a hand clasped over your mouth to try and quiet the noises spilling from you. The last thing you want is for anyone to hear, but Dabi does not seem even the slightest bit concerned about how loud you are. He is engulfed in the taste of you on his tongue, sucking every last drop into his mouth and savoring it.
"D-Dabi, gonna cum- oh, please~! Gonna cum, please, please, please... hah~!" His fingers bite the flesh of your thighs, keeping you in place as your high is met, a splash of your climax hitting his lips and tongue. He hungrily devours what little you can offer, considering he was practically eating you dry. You convulse within his grasp, hips flinch at the smallest of stimulation to your body.
You look so delicate, so worn. Your eyes rolled back and body rebooting to try and recover from the blissful euphoria you just experienced at the hands of his tongue and the still buzzing vibrator inside of you. Dabi peels his gloves off with a grin, grabbing you by the chin and tilting your head at the perfect angle for him to slot his mouth against yours, allowing you to taste yourself in his mouth. You are so eager to abide by him, lapping at his tongue with yours and tracing over his straight teeth, to distracted to feel his fingers fishing out the little vibrator.
The device is turned off and put aside, hands tugging at your dress so it's entirety is bundled around your waist, "You're so fucking hot," His fingers bite your thigh and spread them open to look at the mess you created, "Fuuuck, all that is for me?" You nod quickly and reach between your thighs to spread yourself open, allowing him to peer at your slick covered hole, "Damn it, babe. Give me a fucking break, gonna make me bust before I even stick it in."
His hands guide you to lay back on the table and your hands instinctively hold under your thighs to keep them to your chest, "Wanna feel you, Dabi... please." You're so greedy, so needy for him to give it to you despite having just cum. Your hole is noticeably clenching around nothing, watching his inked fingers pull open his pants, shoving them as well as his boxers down to hang around his thighs.
"Calm down," He growls and brings your lower half to hang off the table, his cock adorned in piercings just as you expected, a pretty Prince Albert at the tip and a line of Jacob's Ladder piercings running down the underside of his cock. They sparkle against the light of the room, taunting you, mocking you for being so excited, "Think you can take my cock, babe?"
Why would he ask such a question? This is all you have been thinking about for a week and maybe more, to chicken out now would be a crime. You wiggle your hips and spread yourself wider for him, "Just put it in!" You whine while bringing your fingers to your swollen cunny, "Otherwise, I'm leaving." Your mindless pleas are all he needs to hear to convince him to edge himself closer. His cock feels heavy and warm on your soft lips, dragging each piercing over your throbbing clit to gather your slimy slick on his shaft.
Dabi brings his right knee onto the table and your left thigh hanging over it, he brings his tip to prod at your entrance, "So wet, you're so fucking sexy..." His hand spanks the inside of your thigh, laughing at the heightened yelp that cracks in your throat. As he gradually sinks his member into your entrance, the position he is standing in provides the perfect angle for his cock to drag along that spongy spot inside of you.
"Nngh~! Dabi... t-too much, please-" He spanks your thigh again, "A-Ah!" And again, the little sounds you make earning you a ruthless smack to your poor thigh. He lets his cock sit inside of you, admiring how pretty you look beneath him. Your face flushed and covered in a sheen of sweat, the faintest trail of saliva on your chin, and your perfect tits still a little swollen but so pretty with the metal bars through them.
He leans in and drags his tongue to gather your saliva, leaving a wet trail from the bottom of your chin up to your lips, sinking further to capture them in a sensual kiss. You moan instantly, fingers reaching up to brace against his shoulder and curl into the black strands of his hair. You're so vulnerable and yet you could care less, jutting your hips up to try and feel something.
Your actions are met with the dragging of his cock from your insides, all of his piercings clawing at your walls until he sits with his tip hanging inside of you. This time, the thrust is quick and pushes straight through you, the hottest moan muffled into his shoulder, "Fuck, there you go, take it..." He does the same thing, grinning as you give a similar reaction, "Damn it, don't squeeze me like that, princess... you're too tense- shit."
Dabi is drunk on the feeling of your velvet walls hugging his member, squeezing it with each thrust in and pull out. You feel perfect, like a sleeve meant for his cock alone, tailored to be his own little toy. No pussy has ever felt quite like yours, and despite having barely fucked you yet, he is addicted to this newfound tension you have caused within him.
The thrusts begin long and fast, dragging his dick out before jamming it as deep as your walls will allow. Every snap of his hips sends your body back on the table, the force causing you to bounce off of him. You're so wet and it makes it so easy to just slip inside of you, you're body takes him so well and accommodates his length effortlessly.
"Dabi, 's so big..." Your head tilts back against the cold table and your fingers dig into his back, "Ahh, can't... can't take it, too much~!" He feeds off of the tears that prick the corners of your eyes, dripping down the length of your cheeks. Your sniffles are adorable, he hates how badly he wants to hear more of them, you've been so good to him and all he wants is to fuck you silly.
"You can take it, look at you," His hips pick up the base, the table rocking under both of your weights, "Fuck, baby... you can take it, yes you can... you're takin' it right now." His words leave you high and in need of more, you want to be his good girl so bad. To make him feel good, to let him fill you up, for him to be proud of you. He makes you feel so good, you just wanna return the favor!
His hands take your thighs and fold you in half, exposing everything to his eyes. Your slick drools around his dick and down your ass, staining the clean metal of the table beneath you, "Haaah~ Please, please go faster! D-Dabi," You squeak when his hips snap against your ass, "Y-Yes! Like that, nngh..." He continues to the same pace that you seemed delighted in, snapping his hips against your stinging ass. His cock fucks your hole sloppily, not even caring about the sound of skin smacking skin, the table scraping against the floor, and your used cunny swallowing his cock.
A hand grabs the back of your neck and pulls you to his lips, smothering you in a messy, wet kiss. His tongue is uncoordinated and teeth clashing together in a fit of bliss, the two of you simply chasing your highs and unbothered by the world around you. Neither of you even hear the snickering on the other end of the closed door, no doubt his coworkers amused by the result of his long-awaited fantasies coming true.
Though, they have to admit you do sound cute.
You bury your face against his neck to try and muffle your sobs, whining about it being too much and it feels so good all at once. The sounds you make are intoxicating and he wishes he could hear them forever, but the squelching wetness of your pussy gradually growing closer and closer to that running high reminds him that you both are like ticking clock.
"You gonna cum?" He whispers in your ear, not letting up on the painful pace of his cock railing in you, "Cum for me, baby, cum on my cock..." He kisses your sore nipples, laughing at the little ow and no that your squeal. He can't wait for them to heal, that way he can pinch and play with your tits a much as he wants.
"Y-Yeah, gonna cum... wanna cum for you so bad, can I cum? Can I cum on you, Dabi?" You're a babbling mess, no coherent words forming, all you are doing is weakly spouting nonsense. Your mind fried, all because of the fact you are being drilled into faster than you can process.
Dabi spanks your thigh, grinning at your cute giggle mixed with a whine, "Of course, sweetheart, don't even have to ask. Gonna fill you up if you're a good girl and cream on my dick, you hear me?" All you can do is nod along to his words, watching where he meets you, watching every inch sink inside and pull back out covered in your milky juices. It is so disgustingly erotic, to be fucking somewhere you shouldn't, to be making such a big mess for a man you still barely know.
But it's so fucking addicting.
Two fingers meet the bud of your clit, fingering the soft little button while you wail and beg him not to. It's too much, it's making you feel funny! Poor girl, can't even take a few meek rubs to your petty little cunny. Your nails claw at his back, but are only met with the barrier of his fitted t-shirt, "G-Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum!"
Your body tenses up, the sudden cold wave of your high washing over you forces every muscle in your body to lock up. Dabi pulls his hands from your thigh and pulls your body against his, keeping you from spasming too much while he continues to fuck your weak hole. He laughs into your shoulder at the warm feeling of you squirting all over his thighs and cock, making a spoiled mess of yourself and him in the process.
"Good fucking girl," He kisses your neck, the squeeze of your tight walls stimulating every nerve in his member, driving him straight over the cliff, "Fucking- gonna cum, ready? Gonna take my cum in that tight little pussy?" You can only tiredly nod your head, whimpering and holding onto him for dear life. The overstimulation of his hips slapping against yours making it difficult for you to enjoy the afterglow of your orgasm.
Dabi's cock pounds into yours a few more times, his breath fanning against your exposed neck, and just as his hips sputter in the wake of his climax, he bites into your shoulder to muffle his loud groans. His cock twitches inside, his seed hot and thick staining your walls white. He falls limp in your arms, dragging his dick in and out painfully slow just to ride it out, smearing his cum all inside of your velvet walls.
Finally, he drags himself out of you, watching his cum mixed with your spill from you and onto the table, He taps his softening tip against your clit, amused by the little jerks and twitches of your hips to get away from his abuse. Dabi pries away from your hold and presses his lips against the corner of your lips, holding your body tight against his for a few minutes to enjoy that stage of comfort that comes with the afterglow of hot sex.
"Fuck, babe..." He pants, fisting his cock a few times before pushing open your thighs to see the slick and cum sticking to your skin, "Let's get you cleaned up, then maybe I'll think about taking you out for dinner."
Your heavy eyes look up at him, a wicked grin pulling at the corners of your lips, "Who said I wanted to do this again?" Your words make him freeze, poor guy looks as if he was caught in headlights. It is amusing, to say the least, looking at his dropped expression and the confusion written in his eyes, "If you pay for dessert, maybe we can do it again...?" Dabi takes your hand and helps you off the table, ashamed he fell from your trick, but nonetheless you have his attention.
"You're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart."