Various anime one shots book 2

Compulsion (Maddie)

Aren't you something? A beautiful little face and that killer body. He's obsessed. It's been this way for a couple months. He comes to your house daily, but just to check on you. He can't have anyone trying to hurt you.
Right now, though, you're in town, coincidentally in the same area he was planning a little robbery.  Much to his irritation, a hero catches him in the act. Like lightning, he bolts out the store, holding the bag of packaged ramen tightly in his scarred hand. He'll have to go to your house later. Now isn't the time to play "secret admirer".
The hero tries to detain him, grabbing at him violently. Dabi, with a bit of a grin, activates his quirk and burns the hero's hand. The a man cries out in pain, but then grits his teeth. They begin to brawl, Dabi being careful not to use his full strength. He can't get too much attention. Not yet, he reminds himself.
A bit of debris goes flying. Out of pure curiosity, Dabi looks where it's headed. Upon seeing its direction, however, a pit drops in his stomach. Faster than even the hero can manage, he makes toward its target. No, He grits his teeth. No, no, no, no, no. He doesn't think. He just moves. Before he knows it, his arms are around you, tumbling and rolling down the little hill. Your shrill screams ring in his ears, though he just grunts as he takes all the sharp bumps and scrapes. His body is your shield, protecting you from anything dangerous. You come to a stop, leaving you both to pant a little. Gingerly, he releases you, afraid to do you any harm. Hands trembling, he smooths a piece of stray hair from your face, checking you for any injuries. Your face is okay. Thank God, He grabs you by the waist, examining your entire body." Are you okay?" he asks hurriedly. "You're not in any pain, are you?"
Voice shaking violently, you reply, "I'm fine."
'You sure?" He could never live with himself if you were to get hurt because of him, Never. You don't deserve pain or danger. Sadness and misery. Only the good things, The best of the best for his precious little mouse. 
"Yeah."
He scoots back, as to give you space. You're even more beautiful up-close. Even more tantalizing than when he watches you through a window. And that squishy waist in his hands-- just the thought sends tingles down his spine.
"I should...." he trails off, captivated by you. "Get going."
Somehow, the ramen survived the tumble, so he grabs the bag and stands.
"W- wait." You grab the bottom of his pant leg, staring up at him. "W- what's your name?"
"Call me Dabi."
You repeat, "Dabi, I like it. I'm Y/n. It's nice to meet you."
Warmth comes to his cheeks. "Likewise." He starts walking away, thinking about you.
"Some kind of a thief? So what did you steal?"
He jumps, holding his chest tightly. Startled, he cranes his neck around, finding you to be behind him.
"Is there a particular reason you're following me?"
"You saved me! There's no way I'm leaving you now! You- you're my hero.!"
Hero. He dreamed of somebody calling him that. Way back then, back when he was a naïve little child. It was all he wanted. It meant of It everything to him. After all, it was the only way his father would be proud of him. As he grew up, of course, he forgot that dream. To be lumped with one of them is an insult. But you didn't mean it that way, did you? of it It was in a sense of gratitude and admiration. Admiration. He likes the thought of that, He dotes on the idea of you thinking him to be great. Of you praising him and telling him how wonderful you find him to be. Of you showering him in compliments the same way fans do their heroes.
"I'm no hero." says the blue-eyed man, forcing himself to stand up straighter, feigning incompetence.
"Not a hero." you agree. "You're my hero. If not for you, I would've died!"
"If not for me." Carefully, he evens our, his voice. "You wouldn't have been in danger to begin with."
Seeming awful persistent, you shake your head. "Sir, I owe you everything! Please, let me do something for you."
"No, there's no reason to. What I did wasn't anything spectacular." He starts walking again, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Go home."
"I refuse! Take me with you!"
"Nope."
"I'll help you! I can- I- I can help you rob stores-"
"Stop right there." Not stopping, he looks over his shoulder. "I'm not exposing you to this kinda life. Especially because I'm no common thief. I just joined up with a bunch of- let's just say my acquaintances aren't good people. And neither am I."
"Sure, you are! A bad person wouldn't have saved me!"
"Miss, I think you're being a bit naïve."
"Not at all. I really, really can't stand the thought of leaving you. I don't have anyone else, anyway. No life to get back to. I'm better off staying with you!"
"Not happening. It's too dangerous for a little girl like you."
Since he's no longer looking at you, he winces at his own words. If he comes off as rude and intolerable, maybe you'll drop this crazy idea. He wants to have you around, He would absolutely love to keep you with him. Lock you away where nobody can find you. Keep you all to himself, But, alas, he's dangerous. His quirk can be so unpredictable, and what if he hurts you? Besides, he has a mission to carry out. It's possible-and even likely-that he dies in the process. If that were to happen, who would take care of you? No. He refuses to just leave you on your own. "I swear. I won't get in the way!" you tell him. "I will do my very best to help you! I swear!"  Gritting his teeth, he goes, 'You don't seem to understand. I'm a murderer."
"Doesn't matter." you retaliate quickly. "If you want, I'll even help hide the bodies."
"You're not getting the hint." He whirls around and grabs you by the arms, causing you to wince a little. It makes his heart plummet. "I'm dangerous. Just being around me isn't safe. It's in your best interest to run."
"I refuse."
"You brat." He releases you and starts walking again, "It's pointless to follow me.
"Fine."
He hears a 'Thump!'
"Instead of following your." you continue. "I'll just sit here and wait for you to take me with you."  He looks over again, finding you to be sitting cross- legged on the ground.
"Suit yourself." 
She'll go home eventually, he tells himself. She'll forget all about me. Just like everybody else. He walks into the shabby, abandoned house he's been living in. The LOV has a building and dorms, but it reeks and is crowded. He likes this private, little place much better. It's a bit lonely and sometimes a little too quiet, but he manages nonetheless. It's better than nothing, right? When he was a kid, he was used to luxuries like a traditional Japanese home and always getting the things he wanted, just because they could afford it. He could cry,  he scream and beg for a toy one day, and throw it out the next without problem. Of course, he can't live like that anymore. He has to be careful and preserve the little he has. Which is another reason he can't have you. He wouldn't be able to give you all the things you deserve. It's best for him to just keep his distance.
He remembers you sitting on the ground, that stubborn expression on your face. It has him freezing as he goes to set his groceries on the table. Are you still there? Did you mean it when you said you weren't moving?  The sound of thunder snaps him out of his thoughts for a sheer moment, but then he darts back out the door. It's storming out, even though there wasn't a cloud in the sky earlier.
Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home, Please, be home. Please, be home., Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. Please, be home. It's all he can think as he stomps through puddles.
The rain running down his face and body chills him to the bone, but what can he say? He got his mother's insensitivity to the cold. This may just be the first time he's thankful for that.
As he gets close to where he left you, he makes out a small figure on the ground. It shakes and he hears the chattering of teeth. Despair washes over him as his steps falter and he makes the figure out to be you. You're drenches with your arms around your chest, shivering and breathing shakily.
"You should've gone home." he says, trying to hide the sheer pain in his voice.
Your head snaps up, but when you see him, you smile. Genuinely smile. As if you're not suffering and freezing in the rain.
"You came back."
"Yeah, well I had a feeling you'd still be here."
Gingerly, he picks you up bridal-style, then makes for his run-down home. "You win, brat. You're coming with me."
Still shivering, you nestle into his arms, burying your face into his chest. "Just what I wanted." Using his quirk. he warms his body, hoping to help you not to get hypothermia.
You're so warm. Mmh-"
"Don't get too comfy."
"Too late."
It doesn't take long until you've arrived at his home. He slips inside and locks the door. With ease, he brings you to his bedroom and sets you on the bed softly.
"Do you want a warm shower?"
"I can't inconvenience you like that."
"It's not an inconvenience. Come on."
He picks you back up, but then you start to giggle.
"And why are you giggling, brat?"
"You don't have to carry me everywhere."
He flushes. "Do you appreciate it or not?"
"I love it." You wrap your hands around his neck. "Thank you, Dabi."
He can't help but smile. He loves the attention. More than anything, he wants you to adore him. To want him. No--to need him. It would feel so great. Just for you to say it once. It would be heavenly. He'd do anything. He drops you off in the bathroom.
"What am I supposed to wear after I shower?" you ask shyly.
"I'll bring you something of mine. I'll be right back."
 He walks out and heads back to the room. Digging around in his dresser, he tries to find something with as little holes as possible. Giving you ratty clothes isn't very gentlemanly. He ends up with a white T-shirt that has a stretched out neckline and a black pair of sweatpants. When he gets back to the bathroom, he hears the shower running. Quietly, he cracks the door open to leave the clothes on the bathroom sink. Accidentally, he sees you silhouette, putting a blush on his face. He closes the door and leaves, still a bit red in the face. He sits on his bed, waiting for you to return.
After what feels like forever, the door opens and you come in, wearing the clothes he left you. They look great on you. That low neckline, though. It's too taunting.
"Thanks for the clothes." you say, scratching behind your neck awkwardly. "Is it okay if I sit down?"
"Do whatever you like."
Unexpectedly, you sit right next to him on the bed. The closeness is just too much. He needs to do something. To touch you. To kiss you. To just get his hands on you.
"If you ever want something." you say. "Just ask. I'll do anything-"
"I want far too much." he says stiffly. "Don't even give me the idea."
"No, no! Seriously! Just ask away!"
Unable to control himself any longer, he touches your shoulder. Just the contact sends chills down his spine.
"And what if you're the one I want?"
"Hm? What exactly do you mean by that?"
"It's obvious." He finally looks at you, shaking with every breath he takes "I want-no, need-you, I didn't want to take you with me because I don't want you hurt, but gosh, I just can't resist. Just the thought of you locked away where nobody can find you . You being all mine. It makes me crazy."
Letting go, he covers half his face, maniacal expression upon his face. "Oh, Y/n. You should've run while you still could. I don't think- I don't think can let you go now."
"Then don't. I'll gladly stay with you. I owe you my very life. May as well use it to make you happy."
"I could do anything I want to you. Aren't you afraid?"
You shake your head. "I don't think you're evil enough to do anything that bad. And, besides, I just want to do anything I can if it means pleasing you."
You asked for it. You really did. So it's okay, It's perfectly fine for him to do this. It's your own fault for talking that way. In a single motion, he pins you onto your back, kissing you roughly. Kiss on the lips. Kisses all across your face. Little kisses and nips down your neck. He cradles your face in his hands, brushing his thumb back and forth on your cheek. Your skin is so soft. He lives for it. He needs more. Some people may call it obsession. Others may call it illness. He calls it love. Regardless of how one addresses it, he can't move past it. He's desperate for every touch and every motion. Starving for you. And he doesn't think he'll ever be satisfied. No matter how far he goes, or how deep he falls. Or has he already fallen?