Midnight Skies - A DabixReader Story

A Talk About Your Quirk

"You must think I'm fuckin' stupid." He drawls, looking down at your sprawled body on the floor, you having only just managed to save yourself by falling on your elbows instead of your head.
"I don't know what you're talking about!" You snap, unable to decide whether you were still under the guise of being brave or if your reaction was one of true panic.
"What's your Quirk, little mouse?" He asks, cocking his head.
You freeze for a moment. "I don't have one."
His eyes roll away before he ducks down, crouching over you in the most patronising way possible while still clutching onto his stomach.

"I think you're lying to me." He replies, visibly licking his sharp looking teeth.
"I'm no-"
"Wanna hear why I think you're lying to me?" He asks, placing a warm hand on the top of your head despite the harsh flinch you gave.
He was going to tell you anyway. Despite the fact you'd already heard his thoughts.
"I think you're lying to me, cause I just heard someone lie to you and then apologise immediately after despite you not having said a word." He says, his fist closing tight in your hair. "You also stared at me like you didn't believe me when I told you we don't have a healer."

His iridescent blue eyes dart between your eyes as though he was trying to read your mind.
You couldn't help but be a little relieved. This was great. He hadn't figured out your true Quirk. He thought you had some kind of polygraph Quirk, which would mean he'd have to be honest with you. Which meant you could get more information out of him.
At the same time though, that likely meant you wouldn't survive this encounter. You'd learn too much during your time with him.
You feel like you're tearing in half.

"What I don't get, doll..." Dabi drawls, pulling your head to the side roughly. "Is why you didn't react to my name."
You blink at him, a little stupefied.
"Is Dabi not your name?" You ask, and that mental wall goes up again. Nothing in and nothing out. It was the strangest thing you'd ever experienced.
He looks down at you coldly for a few more seconds before roughly removing his hand from the top of your head, a couple strands getting caught in his staples.
'Interesting. A time limit.' He thinks to himself before standing back up.

A time limit?
What did that even mean?
Oh man, you were already getting sniffed out.
You mentally start berating yourself for even beginning to think that a member of the League of Villains wouldn't suss you out in seconds. They were villains, not idiots. In fact, you were looking at a professional liar right now you were willing to bet. There was no way you were going to pull the wool over his eyes for too long.
"Ask me about something we've already spoken about." He says suddenly.
Your heart stops. He was going to test you. Luckily your Quirk could work as a polygraph as long as you caught them thinking about the real answer. You just had to hope that mental block didn't go up.

"I don't-"
His glowing eyes settling on you completely stops you mid sentence. Considering he was stoic, all the emotion you needed were in those half lidded eyes.
You sigh.
"Are you going to let me live?" You just barely manage to squeak out, your eyes moving to the floor.
"No." He replies nonchalantly.
He tuts mentally. 'Her eyes have nothing to do with it.'
Your eyes move up, a lot wider than they had been while facing the ground. You'd really misjudged how analytical he was. He looks coldly down at you, the hue of his eyes so much lighter in comparison to his hair and scarred patches.

"Finish what you started then." He says finally, moving towards the sofa and sprawling back over it.
You sit on the floor stunned for a few seconds. That was it? This is what your life was going to come down to? You were going to fix this guy up and then no more Y/N?
"Hurry." He sighs, as though he was bored.
"Why should I?" You ask. Because why should you? It was a 50/50 guess on whether you'd get to live or not, and he'd told you no as casually as you would tell someone the sky is blue.

"You like your house, doll?" He asks.
You simply stare at him. He was lighting the cigarette he'd been rolling around in his fingers earlier.
"Are you threatening me?" You scoff.
He just stares at you blankly, lighting the cigarette between his lips with a finger.
You bite back the urge to tell him not to smoke in your house, but you'd already experienced how much stronger he was than you, even while injured, and you didn't want to start an argument over something a few candles would fix.

"Hello?" He croons sarcastically. "I need fixing?"
"Tell me about it." You mutter as lowly as possible before getting up off the floor. Now he knew you knew about the healer, you felt you could broach the subject.
"Why not just get your healer to fix you up?" You ask, reluctantly beginning to dress the wounds again.
He doesn't even bother answering you, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he smokes lazily. His thoughts are empty. Nothing to hear as you slide the tape along his skin.

"You got any other family members that might check on you?" He asks suddenly, throwing you off. You'd gotten so lost in the rare silence while being around someone else that you'd completely gone into autopilot, forgetting that you were in fact tending to an injured wanted criminal.
He hadn't even been thinking about your family before asking the question. It seemed to leave him before he even had a chance to think about it. That or he had been but you had somehow disassociated entirely and missed the thoughts running through his head.
Your mouth opens and shuts a couple times, your body freezing with your fingers pressed against the tape along his stomach.

Thoughts of your fingers tracing over his skin, even the calloused parts and the image of you licking up over the staples, scars and clear skin all the way up to his mouth brings you back to reality, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look away, as if the scene was actually playing out in front of you.
"Yes." You say.
He grunts, shifting on the sofa.
The dirty images are gone from his mind, but they linger in yours and stay as a pink flush over your cheeks.
"Oi." He says, looking at you indifferently despite the fact you knew your cheeks were bright red. He was shameless. Utterly shameless. "Here. Tell them not to come."
He hands you your phone, his warm hand lingering over yours for a second as he tries to catch your eyes.
"You're gonna sit where I can see it, though. Got it, doll? No funny business. Otherwise you'll get another one of those."
His head tilts towards your bandaged wrist, and you need no further explanation of what was expected of you.

"Okay." You agree, your shoulders sinking.