Blue Flame |Dabi x Reader|

a learning curve, i.

The sound of birds chirping woke me up in the morning. I slowly blinked my eyes open in the dim room, noticing that we had forgotten to turn off the bedside lamp before falling asleep. Dabi's arms were still wrapped firmly around my waist, his hands gently clutching at my sides. I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest as I tried to pry his hands off of me. He grunted in his sleep and tightened his grip for a minute before slowly pulling his arms away. I went to sit up, but he pulled me back down by my arm.

As soon as my head hit the pillow again, he brought his face close to mine as I stared up at the ceiling, my jaw taut. "Where do you think you're going?" He grumbled in my ear, his voice thick with sleep.

"I'm just getting up-"

"Ah, so you're making your own decisions now?" He sounded cold and bewildered in addition to half-asleep, the gruffness of his tone upon waking adding a new dimension to his hushed hostility. "Starting my day off with a warning, I see," I thought to myself as his hand travelled slowly up my arm, his palm hot.

"If I could, that would be great-" I was cut off by the uncomfortably familiar pressure of his massive hand firmly gripping my chin. He pulled my face towards him slowly but firmly, rotating me to face him. A little gasp escaped my lips.

He opened his eyes and slowly blinked, the fluorescent blue of his eyes mesmerizing and haunting at the same time. His eyes flashed darkly as his trademark malicious smirk played at the stapled corners of his lips. "You're still a prisoner, doll," he said slowly, pressing his now-hot fingertips into my cheeks, "last night was a one-time deal, isn't that what we agreed upon?" I nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact. My pulse quickened. The soft, kind Dabi I'd gotten to experience last night had all but completely disappeared. He raised an eyebrow and flicked his tongue out between his lips, smirking.

"Use your words, Bambi."

I gulped again. "That was the deal."

He chuckled hollowly, roughly patting my face, his palm blisteringly hot, before rolling out of bed and standing up. "We've gotta get ready," he told me as he stretched, "we've got work to do today." He padded over to his closet and started rifling through his clothes as I stood up to go poke through the pile of clothes he'd given me the other day. I crouched down and started through the pile, grabbing a pair of black joggers and another white shirt. He glanced behind himself at me and laughed, bringing his palm to his mouth and shaking his head.

"What?"

He leaned down next to me, putting a hot hand on the back of my neck. "Are you trying to shower with me?" He laughed breathily.

I jolted up and backwards, scrambling to my feet as he laughed harder. "No!" I said frantically. That only amused him further. I started wringing my hands. "No, no I am not."

He shook his head, still laughing. He looked up at me from under his messy, oily mop of hair and I flushed harder. His eyes burned a hole into me as he stared at me, unblinking and grinning mischievously, before slowly trotting off to take a shower.

I sat on the bed and stared blankly at the wall while he showered, my throat dry and my heart still pounding. Everything seemed like a fucking game with him - a game of, well, cat and mouse. One that I didn't particularly want to participate in - it didn't take any braincells to figure out which one I was in this situation. I absentmindedly rubbed my chin, thinking about the pressure of his hand and the heat of his fingers. The spots he'd pressed his fingertips into were warm and tender; he'd left a spatter of five small, very minor burns on my face, tracking evidence of his grip.

I shivered as a chill ran up and down my spine. He had told me last night that he was growing fond of me.

I was still flabbergasted from the events of the night before. Never would I have imagined that my captor would have shown me some level of vulnerability like that. I thought back to the night before; he had seemed so genuinely concerned. So soft. So kind.