Red Feathers and Blue Infernos | Dabi x Hawks x reader/OC

One

A/N: This is an OC story but I dont divulge any descriptors of the main character besides a few minor details about height/weight. This story is basted on MHA with the exception that Dabi and the League never became villain's. They all just work in a bar called L.O.V. together. In this story Dabi also isn't scarred. Though he does have a few smaller ones on his torso from when they first discovered his quirk was incompatible with his body. Instead he is covered in tattoos.

My footsteps click against the concrete ground as I make my way towards the address my date for the night has sent me. There is a bite to the air. Winter is drawing closer every day as the leaves abandon trees and wilt against dying grass. I tug my black leather jacket around me tighter in a shrill attempt to keep the cold away. Maybe a skintight skirt and crop top was a bad idea for this weather, but I have never looked hotter for a first date.

I step towards the back alley the address is leading me to, with only a small part of me screaming to turn and run. If it wasn't for the colorful neon sight that proudly displayed the bar name, L.O.V., I probably would have. I pull open the heavy door and take in the place. It wasn't high class or new but something about the darkness was cozy and inviting.

"There you are," a voice calls out to me as soon as I enter the bar. Scanning the crowd, I see my date for the evening. He's tall, lean, and I can't help but be attracted to his smile, not to mention short brown hair and glasses.

"Hey, it's good to see you again," I say and hug him gently. His hands slide around my hips and travel just a bit lower than I would like but I don't say anything.

I met Daisuke at the bookstore I work at. He had popped in to see if we had one of the text books he needed in stock, and we hit it off from there.
"Well, you look absolutely lovely," Daisuke says, eyes raking my body in a way that has my skin crawling and suddenly I wish I had worn something more modest.

"Oh, um thank you," I mumble.

"I'll go grab us something to drink, want anything specific?"

"Maybe just a water? I don't really drink," I shrug, and he narrows his brows in confusion.

"Lighten up babe. Let's have some fun. I'll bring you something good. You'll love it."

I groan softly and rub my face. I wish he would just listen to me. I'm not going to drink it. I don't even really come out to bars.

I move to the end of the bar, away from the groups of people chatting and take a seat on a stool that feels too high for a skirt, but I manage to wiggle into place, nonetheless. I shimmy out of my leather jacket and place it on the counter with my purse and begin twirling the smooth fabric of my purse zipper in my fingers. Something feels off.

Glancing around the bar yields nothing interesting. The barkeep, a tall lean man with unkempt black hair and tattoos covering his arms, neck and ever so slightly on his face, busies himself taking orders and laughing with patrons. When he turns, I catch the piercings decorating his ears and the three studs in his nose. Across from him sits a few patrons. None worth noting as they all pine for the attention of the sole bartender. Soon my date returns, a short stocky glass filled with a honey-colored drink on ice and another glass with a stem filled with some pink liquid and decorated with garnishes.

"Here you are babe," Daisuke says, and I set the glass I'm probably not going to touch down in front of me. He raises his glass for a toast, so I gingerly pick it back up before clinking the delicate glasses together before placing it back down.

"So, tell me about yourself," he says, taking a seat next to me.

"Oh, um well, I am an aspiring author, one of the plus sides of working at the bookstore is I have tons of free time, so my boss lets me write while we're not busy. I actually don't usually go out much. I'm a pretty big home body," I say laughing softly.