𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑽𝑬𝑫 𝑨𝑭𝑭𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 ➣ Dabi

you're mine

"I don't understand," you say, struggling with the controller in your hand.

"You have to press X and A at the same time."

"I am."

Shigaraki shakes his head, smiling softly, as he puts his gloved hands over yours to help you beat this level of his favorite game. It's only level one but you've never played video games before so you're grateful Shigaraki can be so patient with you.

It's been about three weeks since the training camp mission. Since some of the members were arrested and since All Might has retired from his role as a Pro Hero, the League thought it best if you all lie low, focus on other things, like training, besides wreaking havoc among the city. And you were perfectly fine with that. It was nice to have a moment to rejuvenate after a stressful and emotionally draining mission. Though Dabi was proud of you for being able to function while he was passed out.

In fact, you spent a lot of the time learning better self-defense with Dabi. You've gotten to the point where you know how to punch, not that you're very strong, and how to get someone who's holding your wrist to let go. With more training, you'll be stronger. The main thing is not freaking out. So you've started medicating, doing breathing exercises and trying to relax. Toga will even hang out with you and paint your nails and promise that you'll be okay.

You've played more card games with Compress and watched movies with Twice in the two weeks too. But every night, Dabi takes you away and you spend the night curled up against him and he hums you to sleep in his arms. Sometimes, he'll just sit with you while you hang out with someone else. But for the most part, you're with him when you train or at night when he holds you.

"Level Completed," the tv screen says.

"I did it!" you gasp.

Shigaraki laughs as you kick your feet in the air out of excitement for finally completing the level, even if Shigaraki helped. The two of you sit on the edge of his bed, looking at his little TV screen to play a video game, when Dabi walks in.

You frown. "Already?"

"Yep. Come on, Little Mouse."

"Thanks for playing with me, Shiggy," you say. You got permission to call him that, and only you can call him that because you're being genuine and not trying to make fun of him.

Dabi takes your hand as you stand up, after giving a quick hug to Shigaraki, and leads you out into the hallway. Every night, you and Dabi do some Yoga. He's actually really flexible and can perfect a lot of difficult moves that you struggle with. The point of it, he said, was for you to be able to move silently. He's very intent on keeping you safe and away from the pro heroes, especially since you're on their radar now. So, he stretches your muscles and trains you to be quick on your feet. He's started to help you jump from building to building though you've only practiced jumping large distances and landing without getting hurt.

In your room, Dabi's got some candles lit and two Yoga mats on the floor. You smile, quickly changing into leggings and a t-shirt. He's in a black long-sleeve shirt and grey sweatpants.

He sits you down on the pink mat while he sits on the blue across from you. You put your feet together to stretch your thigh muscles before moving onto your arms. You take five minutes to warm up and stretch before Dabi gets you into some Yoga moves.

You start by balancing on one foot, the other held next to your knee as the palm of your hands are pressed firmly together. Unfortunately, you still can't master the art of balance the way Dabi can. So you end up falling over and instinctively reaching for Dabi. He grabs onto you, and instead of spinning around so you're on bottom, he takes the hit and winces when the two of you land. Your thighs cradle his his waist, your hands on his chest as you look at him.

"Are you okay?" you quickly say, trying to climb off of him. But he just smirks, noticing how well you lay atop him. How perfect you look, staring down at him with wide eyes. He smiles, grabs your hands, and flips the two of you over so he's now on top, staring at you with lustful eyes. You immediately become a flustered mess, stuttering over your words, your cheeks lighting up in a tinted pink as you try to mumble an apology.

He chuckles lightly before he kisses you, his lips hot, so very hot, as he forces his tongue into your mouth to brand you as his.

But that only gets you thinking. About two months ago, Dabi finally kissed you. But just because he kissed you, doesn't necessarily mean you're his. Right? Sure, he's said you're his but everything is his. That black lighter is his. The mug that says, "Fuck Endeavor," with bad handwriting is his. The broken shards of glass that sit on the shelves in his room is his. That traffic light in his room is his. The cigarette box is his. The ash tray in the bar is his. Everything is his. So how do you know if you really are his, or just another object he can use to please him?

"Dabi," you say.

He shuts you up with a kiss, his hands traveling lower, tugging at the waistband of your leggings.

"Dabi."

"Shh," he murmurs, biting your neck softly.

"Dabi," you say again.

He sighs as he pulls away. "What?" he asks sternly.

"I. . .," you start to say but stop when you realize how pissed off he looks. Instead, you shake your head and say nothing, but you try to push him off of you.

"Oh no," he says, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him. "Use those words, Mouse. What's so important that I had to stop pleasing you?"

You bite your lip, gentle playing with your finger nails as you stare at his lips. "I. . . I just don't know what we are," you whisper.

He frowns, still holding your jaw as he cocks his head to look at you. "Excuse me?"

"I—," you start.

"Fucking idiot," he laughs as he sits up, pulling you with him. "I don't do girlfriends."

Oh.

"But," he says, rubbing his jaw. "You fucked that up, didn't you?"

What? "I did?"

"You did. You wanna know something, Mouse? You piss me off. A lot. You're always crying. You think everyone's out to get you. And you're really just a weak, little baby." You shrink in hurt as he insults you, as you quickly drop your head and bite your trembling lip. "But," he says again, tilting your face up by your jaw and rubbing your bottom lip with his thumb. "You're my weak, little baby. Toga's probably told you how I go fuck some other wanna-be bitches when I was mad at her. But you, goddammit, I can't with you. I've tried. And that's pissing me off. I don't do commitment. I don't date. I sleep around and use girls for my pleasure." Why is he saying all this? Is he trying to make you cry? Does he want you to leave? "My point is, Doll, I wouldn't be doing Yoga with you right now if we weren't a thing. And quite frankly, we're a thing because if I see you with another man, I'll tear this whole fucking city apart. You're mine," he seethes. "Got it?"

You quickly nod, still not understanding. He went from, "I don't date," to "We're a thing," to "We're only a thing because I'm jealous of other men touching you." So, yeah. You are kind of lost still.

"Dabi?" you ask after a moment of silence.

"Yes, love?"

You pause, looking at him in the eyes, ignoring the way he plays with your bottom lip, a habit he does when he's holding you by the chin. "Does that mean you're my boyfriend?" you ask softly, almost silently.

He chuckles, pulling you into his arms. "Whatever makes you sleep at night, Mouse." 

word count: 1.4K