rising up and following in stain's ideals, dabi was a pretty straightforward kinda guy. running into giran, the man who introduced him to the league of villains, had set him on another kind of path. one that was going to inevitably cross into y/n's...
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: ayo attempting to post on a thursday?? i hope so. started writing this on wednesday, i work two night shifts in a row so prayer, i apologize for how short this chapter is!!
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: mentions of blood; murder; death; violence, dabi is still lowkey stubborn, hawks likes to text you, eren wants to know if you're okay, slight sexual themes
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You wish you could've stayed in the bed with Dabi forever. But with the state of your hand, you knew you should see someone, it wasn't going to heal any faster if it wasn't properly treated.
And sure enough, with a few quick calls around through the league, you'd been checked out and taken care of, ushered to rest and not use your broken hand if at all possible.
But of course, with Dabi following you around like a lost puppy, you doubted you'd be doing anything by yourself. You knew it was unlike Dabi to be so kind, so you just went along with it. You knew in the end if you said something his ego would get the best of him and he'd leave you alone.
And you loved how he massaged shampoo into your scalp for you. Though you protested at first, he said it was just to help you clean up. And while you caught him taking a couple of glances at your sud-covered body, you knew he was genuinely trying, for you.
Something had been different around him since you'd returned. You didn't want to ask about it, but everything in you was curious. Had he really been that worried over your disappearance?
When your shower, more like bath, was over, he helped dress you and offered to make you some food.
"Do you even know how to cook?" You ask, light-heartedly.
"You're lucky I'm even offering." Dabi's tone is flat as he stares back at you, scarred arms revealed in a loose tank top over his chest.
Since it was just the two of you there alone, Dabi took the liberty of wearing something cool and comfortable, letting his skin breathe unlike how he usually did.
"I know. What's on the menu, MasterChef?" Your nickname nods back to the time he helped you cook dinner. The very same night things got heated-
"Whatever you want, princess." Dabi would've loved to spend this alone time with you in many different positions, but he knew your body was bruised and you needed time to heal. The wait would be worth it, he was just happy you were alive.
Though he wouldn't say it, and he'd deny it if it ever came up, Dabi was falling in love with you, if that was even possible for him.
He didn't want to be apart from you, he wanted to claim you as his and tell the world that if anyone hurt you, they'd have to go through him.
In his head, Dabi wasn't a fan of relationships, more or less what he'd seen of them. He didn't quite think his folks were the prime example, and he'd be damned if he ended up like his old man.
"Dabi? You okay?" You asked, finally getting his attention.
"What? I'm fine." Dabi spoke, his cerulean eyes staring at you.
"I don't think I ever told you, thank you, for taking care of me and stuff. You don't have to but here you are." You smile as you begin to walk toward the kitchen, the goal to make something for dinner.
"It's whatever." Dabi mumbled. You paused and took his hand with your unbroken one and tugged his arm so he would look up at you.
"It's not whatever. It's a big deal actually. Thanks for having a soft spot for me, even if your ego says otherwise." You pull his hand up to your mouth and kiss the back of it, smiling as you slowly lower it.
Dabi is silent as his arm now rests by his side. He looks up at you and he can no longer control himself. Planting his hands on your hips, fingers bruising your sides as he crashed his lips to yours, he steals your breath away.
His kiss is rough, but sweet. He's been yearning for this.
"D-Dabi-" Your breath hitches in your throat as his lips cut you off, barely giving you time to breathe as he pushes you down onto the couch, somehow careful to not hurt your broken hand.
"I can't control myself anymore. I'm so tired of holding back." Dabi groaned, his hands pushing up your shirt.
As if on queue, your phone pings. Not once, not twice, but four times. Groaning, Dabi pulls it from your pocket and glares at the screen. Three texts from Hawks, and one from Eren.
"They're concerned." Dabi mumbles, kissing your tummy. He hands the phone to you as you read over their messages.
Eren asks if you're doing alright, and if what he's been seeing on the news is true. You decide not to respond right away.
Hawks also wants to know if you're alright, and if he could stop by soon. He had something to give to you apparently. You didn't respond to him either. You'd manage them later, all you could focus on was Dabi's hot breath ghosting over your sternum as he placed a cheeky kiss on the side of your breast.
"I'm doing all I can to hold myself back." Dabi mutters, laying his head down on your semi-bare chest, your shirt bunched up around your neck, your nipples now hardened due to the exposure to the cool air.
Listening to your heartbeat, Dabi rested himself down on top of you, careful not to crush you under him. You could manage just fine, but you brought your arms around his back, ruffling his dark hair with your unbruised hand.
"Why are you holding back? I'm not going anywhere." You say softly, tugging your shirt down over his head teasingly.
"Good."
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𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.0k
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