Midnight Skies - A DabixReader Story

A Phone Call

You'd barely slept. The bravery that had taken over had well and truly left you while you lay in your bed, only having half an hour between panic attacks all night.
The only saving grace was that the intruder, Dabi, hadn't moved at all during the night. You hadn't heard a peep, deliberately having left your music off to allow yourself to hear whether or not he did move or not during the night, not wanting to have zoned out listening to your music again and find yourself with him hovering over you, or waking up to blue flames engulfing your room.

Your eyes were drooping by the time it was morning. You weren't sure if it was stubbornness of staying awake to ensure you were aware of whatever was going on in your house, or if you were so tired you couldn't sleep, but your body would immediately jolt your eyes open before they could shut fully.
The sound of a voice echoing throughout your house draws your attention. There was no way it wasn't Dabi's. It was raspy and deep, and he'd ensured your safety from any other intruders.
Although, you couldn't really tell if that was much, considering he was a villain and an intruder himself.

You decide to press your ear against your door, to listen out for any information you may be able to give to the police on the off chance you did survive through this experience.
"Sorry doll." You hear him say. His voice is low, like he was trying not to be heard, and you felt like you only caught the end of the sentence.
'Doll' struck a nerve with you though. After all those images he'd subjected you to of you in extremely suggestive positions, he had a girlfriend?

It wasn't the first time you'd experienced it though. Often times in the library you worked at, men old and young alike would often fantasise about you, being the only younger worker there, while their other halves were stood directly next to them.
The intensity of Dabi's fantasies about you had made this time much worse though. Images of him spitting on your face while your hair was trapped in his hand, and his hand wrapped around your throat, searing his handprint there as a permanent reminder of what he put you through were a lot more to deal with than men simply imagining you naked.

You wonder if his girlfriend has to endure that.
Or if he keeps those sick fantasies to himself, acting on them while invading innocent womens houses.
You wonder if he tells her about what he does, whether or not they talk about it together. Whether she hates him for what he does, but is scared to leave.
Or whether they laugh about it together, and mock the victims once he comes home all patched up, all the hard work done for her.
You tune your own head out to listen some more to the conversation he appeared to be having.

"Nah."
"You already sorted Shigaraki's out."
He mutters something else lowly that you don't manage to hear.
"Shoulda known better considering he landed a hit on him."
"It's a long story, but tell crust bucket I managed to burn him up pretty good. That's the hardest one of Kenji's men down."
There's a long pause.
"Really? Twice has?"
"I'm not gonna be able to make it."
"Listen, I don't need your help. It's not fresh enough for you to heal anyway."
You furrow your brow. A healer? Why was he wasting time here?

He groans, the sound significantly louder than how he'd been talking before.
"Next time I see you I'm burning that phone to ashes." He promises whoever he's talking to, although it sounds like he may be joking.
"Yeah, whatever." He grunts. "Say hi to Tomura-chan for me."
Tomura-chan? Who-
"Y/N." He calls loudly.
The panic begins to bubble in you instantly again, your mind immediately going to the idea that he somehow knew that you were eavesdropping on his conversation. That you were going to be punished for doing so.
You consider going back to bed. Pretending you didn't hear.

"Y/N." He calls again.
You suppose it was a dumb idea anyway. You were too anxious to sleep and if he was off the phone he may be able to hear the floorboards creak, indicating you were never in bed when he called for you anyway.
You take a deep breath, taking a few steps in front of the door to make it sound like you weren't stood by the door the entire time before you open the door, walking in a nervous line towards the living room.
You blink as you look around the room.

He'd held true to the promise of not letting any bugs get into the house, judging by the many scorch marks on the walls, floor and furniture.
You appreciate the sentiment, but if you did survive this, it was going to be expensive to fix.
Could you sue a villain for damages?
"Dressings need changing." He says bluntly, rolling a cigarette between his fingers as he looks at you. "You look like shit."
For a second, you don't register the insult, his head was far too busy with images of a pink haired girl with pink eyes, images of Shigaraki, who you could recognise from the news articles you'd seen of the League of Villains, and the man who had caused his injuries at the bar.

"Huh?" You say, squinting slightly.
"I said, you look like shit." He repeats, louder this time. "Didn't you sleep?"
He cocks his head at you, a demeaning look on his face.
But his thoughts told a whole different other story.
They weren't kind, but they weren't horrible either. Nonchalance about your appearance, asides from the  internal note he made that your eyes were 'less intense' now that they were a little duller from lack of sleep.

You didn't mind that though.
Your eyes always got those kinds of comments from people, whether it was verbally or mentally.
You knew your brother, Sota had it a lot too.
With a deep breath, you try to grip onto the bravery that you'd had the day before, hoping it would help you through.

"Yeah, well. It's hard to sleep when there's a murderer sleeping in the next room." You reply, successfully adorning the mask of courage.