peril; dabi x reader

v.

In the two years of her owning and running her own clinic, she still hadn't quite worked out when it was the best time for her to resupply, when it was time to go through notes, when she could handle referrals and every other non-clinical aspect of her job.  She could keep herself pretty well planned out as suggested by her very well-structured bullet journal, but the business aspect was incredibly difficult.  (Y/N) had spent the whole day trying to make a new system, which involved her putting a lot of the paperwork and equipment in more advantageous places... or whatever.  Five chai tea lattes wasn't enough to make this seem like a good idea, but she'd started and also sank an entire seven hours into the plan, so she'd just come back down from making number six and began reorganizing the supply cart in the clinic room again.  The job was somewhat more fun with a custom label maker she had sleep-drunkenly ordered for same day delivery when she heard the bell ring, the door slamming open forcefully.

"Where the fuck is she?" A raspy voice snapped, and she turned on her heel to face the door. She slid her foot to the baseboard of the clinic room, pushing the little latched door in and sliding the sharp red blade out. Her mind flew back to when she had it installed, Shouta leaning over her shoulder and insisting that she needed means to activate the more brutal aspects of her quirk at all times, especially if somebody became belligerent. The blade had been a gift from Hizashi. "It matches you," he'd smiled as he watched her weigh the blade on her fingers.  The neon light of the clinic caught the golden metal of the blade and the sheen off of the blood red leather on its hilt.  

She stepped around the corner, blade tucked in her hand. "We're closed... please leave." The tremor in her voice was masked just enough to make her look a bit more brave than she was currently feeling.  She kept her distance as her eyes ran over the group ahead of her, gripping the knife tightly, but not enough to slice her hand open. Not yet.  Her forearm would've been an easier option that would heal back immediately if she so willed it, but it would work in an emergency pinch.

"Apologies," A man who appeared to be made of purple mist spoke first. "We would like to make use of your services." His tone was serious, yet kind, and there was something about him that felt strangely familiar. He wasn't soft enough to let her drop her guard, though, so she stayed still. Her eyes flickered to the others.

A deep inhale soothed her ever so slightly. "Who is we?"

"Who we are is of no importance to you," the minty-blue haired man with hands strewn across his body rasped. She recognized that voice as the first one spoken when they rudely entered her clinic. "Did you or did you not assist the Hero Killer Stain before his capture?" He itched at his neck. It was red, irritated- she could see the need for some kind of moisturiser and a bandage from her vantage point meters away.

"Listen, quite frankly, I have had a hell of a week..." the hero began, taking steps toward her desk. Once she reached it, she crouched down to check the bottom drawers. Her phone was resting in the bottom file cabinet and she managed to send a leaf emoji to the group chat she still had with her brother and Shouta. They'd agreed that if she ever sent him a message with no context and didn't reply fast when he questioned, one of them would go to find her. Would she be fine on her own? Probably. But she'd promised, as one of those conditions of her moving out of the apartment.

(Y/N) was hoping, praying that the confident act was coming across properly.  A vicious growl left the minty blue one's mouth. "Answer me. Now."  Even the purple mist of an entity seemed to be in deference to his will. It made her feel sick. Exactly what was this guy's deal? She flicked her hair back as she stood back up, now bending over to inspect the upper compartments.

"I have helped Stain before, yes."  Her shoulders were beginning to ache from how far she'd rolled them back, trying to project an air of self-assuredness, no matter how 'bad-news' these few seemed.  "I'm Pro Hero Bypass. Pro Hero Heart Lung Machine didn't really have the same ring to it. At your service." Her tone was minorly indignant as she continued to rifle through the drawers. Dabi wondered what she was looking for so intently, or if she just always had this sense of urgency about her. Twice nudged him as they both watched her. Usually, he would've shrugged him off, maybe told him to fuck off, but the universal code of look at that one wasn't lost on Dabi this time.