Chapter Text
You start to come to slowly, your eyelids feeling extraordinarily heavy. You don’t even really remember falling asleep, and your body feels fatigued and sore beyond belief. A source of sweltering heat is pressed against the side of your body and buried into your neck. You feel something sharp graze the skin of your shoulder with a small nip. With a start, you remember everything from before you fell asleep.
Fighting to open your eyes, eyesight still blurry with sleep, you go to turn over and find yourself unable to move, as something tugs on your arm with a metallic clink. Another sharp nip and warm exhale of breath against your pulse.
Your vision clears more and you realize you’re not in your room anymore. You don’t know what this place is, the room looks rundown, with nearly no furniture other than the bed you’re currently bound to. There’s very little light, the windows are seemingly plastered over with aged, yellowed paper, and the paint on the walls is cracked and peeling in some areas.
Looking down, you’re not surprised to see who the source of warmth is. Dabi looks up to meet your gaze as if sensing your eyes on him. His stare is still filled with the same intensity that you’ve started to become accustomed to.
“Where am I?” You ask, swallowing thickly. You don’t understand where he’s taken you, or for what reason, but the possibilities as to why have you frightened. This situation doesn’t seem to bode well for you.
His large, rough hand slides up the lower half of your stomach, pushing your shirt up slightly. “I told you that you’re mine, I’m not gonna risk you getting away from me now.” He speaks lowly against your ear. You shudder at the vehemence in his voice, and it fully hits you how entwined you were with him now. He’s reached a dangerous level of obsession with you, and maybe that means he hopefully won’t kill you, but there’s no escaping him at this point. You can’t even be sure he wouldn’t murder you if you pissed him off enough, or if he got bored with you.
“I don’t understand, where am I-” He cuts you off with an iron grip on your chin, raising up slightly and leaning over you as he speaks again, his voice firmer than before.
“You don’t need to understand anything other than you belong to me now, and I’m keeping you here. Get used to this place, it’s your new home, got it doll?” His face is just a hairsbreadth away from yours now, his cerulean eyes burning into yours.
You can’t help it, your lip starts trembling and tears begin to spring in your eyes. You sniffle as the hot tears spill over and run down your cheeks. Dabi doesn’t seem even the least bit alarmed by your weeping, if anything he seems almost pleasantly surprised.
Pulling you into his arms as he sits up, he coos and starts to stroke the back of your head. Your arm tugs uncomfortably from where it's chained to the metal frame of the bed. “It's okay baby, I’m not gonna hurt ya, as long as you behave everything will be fine. I’ll even take the handcuff off if you promise to be good.” He speaks in a softer voice, trying to soothe you, as a choked sob makes it past your lips. You’re struggling to wrap your head around your current predicament, you weren’t sure how to get out of this. The last thing you remember, you were in bed at home, maybe in the grasp of a frightening villain, but home nonetheless.
You continue to cry as he wraps his arms around you, forcing you into even closer proximity to him. You feel the heat radiating off of his body, and he smells of smoke and ash.
“Will you behave if I take off the cuff?” He speaks in a quiet, almost smooth voice, still speaking closely to your ear.
Sniffling, you nod your head tentatively. You certainly were in no position to try and fight or resist him as it currently stands. Even with your own immunity to his flames, you know he could easily overpower you if need be. He seems pleased with your meek obedience as he produces a small key and leans over your still trembling body as he quickly undoes the handcuff keeping you tethered to the bed.
The skin on your wrist is reddened and sore from how tight the restraint was, and you bring your hand up to your chest as you curl further in on yourself. Dabi says nothing, simply pulling you closer to him, fully seating you atop his lap now. You can feel his heartbeat, and each rise and fall of his chest as he holds you flush to his body.
He wipes the tears from your cheeks and continues to shush your weeping, burying his face into your hair as he inhales.
“There’s no reason to cry, everything’s alright.” He continues to stroke your hair as you cry as if sympathetic, but his tone still seems quite pleased and if you weren’t mistaken, you could feel him growing hard against your ass through his pants. His presence felt overbearing and oppressive, and you felt trapped in his arms.
“I wanna go home.” You whimper out between small sobs, you know he won’t let you, but you can’t help your words. His fingers tighten in your hair and his voice drops down back to something more harsh as he speaks.
“This is your home now, and you’re not leaving.” He all but growls into your ear, his grip on your hair becoming borderline painful. “I don’t wanna hear you ask to leave again. Got it?” When you simply sniffle and don’t reply, he yanks your hair, hard. “Got it?” He repeats himself in a threatening tone. Quickly, you nod your head in assent and he seems to accept this, the grip on your hair relenting.
He continues to hold you like this for some time, murmuring to you in a low voice as he holds you close, and if he shifts your weight in a certain way that has you grinding against his crotch, you pretend to not notice.
Soon you got to become familiar with the rest of this decrepit hideout of his, any windows close to the ground level are barred and the only door in or out is always locked. He had escaped-proofed the whole apartment as if you were a child. No house phones, no computers, nothing you could use to access the outside world.
The place was all around sparsely furnished, and there was a scent of mildew about. It's not far off from what you’d imagine a villain would call home. There was, at the very least, an archaic but still functional television. It becomes your only source of news of the outside world, and the only thing to really keep you entertained on the many days when Dabi is gone, presumably off committing other atrocities with the league.
When he left you alone for the very first time, telling you that he’d be gone for a while and to behave in the meantime, you of course tried looking for a method of escape. Once you heard the front door slam shut, you waited ten minutes before moving to the front room, your feet padding across the cold ground. You were surprised he gave you free rein of the place already but that made a potential escape attempt so much easier. To your surprise though, the front door was left unlocked.
Did he seriously forget to lock the door? It didn’t even occur to you that it may have been a test until you were already scrambling to open the door hastily and Dabi’s disappointed and irritated expression greeted you.
Fuck.
“Seriously, did you just fall for one of the most basic tricks in the book?” He advances on you quickly as you stumble back and gasp. “I thought you’d be smarter than that.” Dabi quickly closes the distance between you, as he grabs you roughly by the arm, dragging you back inside. The door slams behind you with a resounding bang. “But I’m still pissed.” He says, clicking his tongue in a tutting sound as if reprimanding you.
You open your mouth, looking for some excuse to defend yourself but you just stammer as the words escape you. Shaking, you can’t even bring yourself to meet his furious gaze, your heart thumping out of your chest.
He yanks you towards the one singular bedroom, not giving you any chance to resist or fight against him. Your feet can barely keep up and he’s partially dragging you across the floor as he strides towards the room. You’re forcefully tossed atop the bed before you even have time to react, the metal springs squeaking in protest.
Immediately he’s above you, gripping your wrist tight enough to bruise as restrains one wrist to the side of your head, handcuff biting into your skin as he closes it tighter than need be.
“Dabi please-” You try to plead as he leans all his weight into you, gripping your other wrist as he pulls out another handcuff. He doesn’t give you the chance to speak though, cutting you off quickly as he grips your jaw.
“No, I gave you a chance to prove to me you’d behave and you fucked it up.” He restrains your other wrist as he scowls at you. Both his hands move to grip your face, forcing you to look him in the eye. “I knew you would try to resist being here at first, but that doesn’t mean there’s not gonna be any consequences for trying to leave.”
He leans his face close to yours, near enough that your noses were almost touching, as his voice drops down to something barely above a whisper. “I’m going easy on you this time, but I won’t be so lenient the next. You’re mine, the sooner you realize that, and the sooner you stop fighting the better.”
Truth be told, Dabi enjoyed it when you fought back. Something about your defiance and the idea of the chase, of forcing you to submit to him really got his blood pumping. However, something that he craved infinitely more was your willful submission. He wanted you to submit to being his, to come to terms with it. Your rightful place was beside him, and if he so chose, underneath him. Additionally, it was simply easier this way, he didn’t want to risk you escaping simply because he thinks it’d be titillating to chase you down.
“You've lost your free roam privileges, I hope you’re comfortable because you’re not gonna be leaving this bed for a while.”
Your eyes are wide and fearful and Dabi was obsessed with how beautiful that fear looked on your face. He leans in further, closing the gap between you two as he presses his lips to your own, kissing you fervently. The way he kisses you always felt more intimate than sex, but this wasn’t the tender kiss of a lover or partner. The way he moves his mouth against your own was full of possessiveness, and laced with a feeling of danger, as if he wants to consume your very soul.
With your arms bound to the metal headboard and his hands still holding you tightly in place, you can do nothing to resist him. He bites your bottom lip, no doubt intentionally, and you whimper into his mouth. He groans against you hungrily before pulling away to speak, leaving you gasping for breath.
“God you’re gonna be the death of me.” His voice is low and rough, filled with desire now.
Before he can move to kiss you again though, you speak up. “How long are you going to keep me chained here?” You ask tentatively, the thought of being trapped and restrained for an indefinite amount of time making you nervous.
At the very least, he seems to give your question genuine consideration, pausing before answering.
“Until I feel like you’ve learned your lesson and I don’t have to worry about you trying to escape again.” He says simply after a moment, in such a casual tone you could think he was commenting on the weather.
“Dabi please, I swear I won’t try to leave again-” You try pleading with him yet again but he shushes you before you can get too worked up about it.
“I know you won’t baby, because the next time you try to escape I’ll make sure you can’t walk again.” His voice is low and honeyed and you shiver, knowing he’ll no doubt make good on that threat if you do.
His mouth moves down to your neck, one hand tilting your head to give him better access, as the strong curve of his nose brushes against your pulse point. He presses open-mouthed kisses against your soft skin, starting out slowly, feeling your quickening pulse against his lips. Soon though, his intensity grows as does his hunger, soft butterfly-like kisses becoming ravenous as he begins to nip along your neck and collar bones, bruises slowly blooming across like spilled ink.
Gasping beneath him at his ministrations, you’re powerless to stop him as he takes your body for himself, you feel completely ensnared by the man, like a fragile bird caught in the jaws of a snake. Yet, you can’t help but melt under the lavish attention, under the warm heat of his body. You hate being here, and you hate what he’s done to you so far, but it feels all too easy to give in to him, at least in this moment.
Dabi takes his time with you that night, reveling in every inch of your body, removing clothing leisurely as if he has all the time in the world. Doing nothing to resist him, even when he slowly presses into you, humping into your tight heat like a man starved, you do nothing but moan and whimper and he coos at how sweetly you’re behaving for him, praise falling from his lips like prayers. Your gut churns in both white-hot pleasure and insurmountable guilt as you cry out for him and come hard around his cock.
He follows through on your punishment as well, keeping you bound to that bed for several days, only undoing the cuffs when you need to use the bathroom, herding you to the dingy and small room, and standing right outside the door to ensure you don’t attempt another escape.
Even for meals, he doesn’t remove them, instead insisting on feeding you every single bite himself, much to your chagrin. You feel irritated and humiliated, but you suppose that’s the intention. Your arms feel sore from being held in the same place for such an extended period of time and you try and lay in a way that relieves some of the tension. The worse though is when he’s gone for hours at a time, and you're left to do nothing but stare at the cracking wallpaper to pass the time.
It gets to the point where you feel yourself perking up when you hear the front door creakily open and then slam shut behind him, his boots thudding down the hall as he approaches the room filling you with a renewed sense of vigor. You know you shouldn’t be feeling excited to see him, you know this is just another ploy to break you and make you feel reliant on him, but you can’t help how out of your mind bored these long stretches of solitude make you, desperate for any human contact.
Eventually, after an episode where you broke down crying before another one of his outings, begging to not be left chained up alone, he relented and unfastened the metal cuffs. Your arms were so sore, and you hissed as you stretched your aching limbs. He sighs almost exasperatedly and takes your wrists wordlessly, heating up his hands as he massaged the painful muscle. You don’t speak either, sitting in silence in front of him as you try to cease your sniffling.
The quiet hangs over you heavily and you don’t know what to say. You don’t want to thank him for finally removing the cuffs, or even for what he’s doing now, but you also don’t want to piss him off again, so you say nothing. He doesn’t meet your gaze as he thumbs out the painful knots in your wrists, but you can see the hint of a stern frown etched into his face.
Part of you wants to know what's on his mind, but you feel like asking him or requesting any information about himself would be crossing some sort of invisible line. He doesn’t ever offer you details about who he is, where he came from, or what he’s truly ever thinking. You know a lot about his crimes, his public attacks on various heroes, and even hero students. You’ve come to know at least some parts of his personality but you have no doubt there’s a lot he withholds.
You don’t want to become invested in unraveling the enigma that is Dabi, you don’t want to care or to be curious about it. So you keep your lips pressed shut and the moment passes by and disappears like a morning fog.
He still insists on keeping you locked in the bedroom when he’s out, but you accept this condition gladly at this point, happy to be out of the handcuffs. You find things to keep yourself entertained, you manage to convince him to haul the old box television from the living room to the bedroom, and he even brings you books on occasion. He’s gone frequently and sometimes for long extended time frames, and you find yourself reading the same books over and over again, flipping through every channel of the shabby TV. Dabi and the League are mentioned on the news at an increasing frequency these days, and you find yourself paying rapt attention, wondering what he was up to at that very moment.
Another way you begin to keep yourself busy is by cleaning, the whole place could use a good cleaning, the mildew scent that permeants in the summer heat driving you crazy. This first starts when Dabi is home, and you have more roam of the place. You find whatever rags and cleaning equipment you can find, you suspect Dabi isn’t really big on cleaning himself, and one morning Dabi finds you mixing bleach and water together in the small kitchen.
“Now what are you planning to do with that? I hope you know I can’t be poisoned that easily.” He speaks and you can hear the smirk in his voice without even turning to face him.
“These floors are filthy, do you never mop in here? Or do you just not care how much dirt you track in on your boots? I was surprised I could even find a mop.” You would love to have some nice scented floor cleaner, but you can make do with this.
Dabi scoffs and he leans against the nearest wall. “I don’t usually stay in places long enough to care about how clean it is. I bounce from place to place, and as long as I have a roof over my head I can give less of a shit about how much dirt is on the floors. I’ve kept this place as long as I have because I need a place to keep you.”
This gives you pause, as you stop what you’re doing momentarily, still not turning to face him completely yet. You feel as if you learned a little bit more information about him, another small piece of the puzzle.
Before you can reply, he speaks again, his tone lighter. “But it seems you’re becoming quite the little homemaker.” He comes up behind you and pinches your cheek in a teasing way. “How nice for me.”
Your face heats up and you feel a blush crawling up your neck at his words. You turn to face him, frowning deeply.
“I am not- I’m only doing this because I hate living in filth. And because it gives me something to do.” You protest, trying not to stutter over your words and hoping there’s no noticeable redness to your cheeks.
If there is, he doesn’t speak on it, instead wrapping his arms around your waist, his lips brushing against your ear. It’s obvious what sort of mood he was in right now, his hand beginning to tease underneath your shirt. You resist the urge to push him away, you really wanted to mop damn it, but you know that doing so would only rile him up more. You’ve come to realize it’s almost as if he has some sort of prey drive, like a hound chasing a hare, running or resisting was exhilarating to him, and filled him with the intense need to put you in your place.
So instead you speak again, tentatively. “But, if you could…do you think you could get me some things?” You were hesitant to ask, but you really could only do so much with bleach, some old rags, and a mop and broom that have both seen better days.
His breath and hot against your neck as he still leans in close to you. “Hm?”
Taking this as a sign that he’s at least somewhat paying attention, you continue. “Maybe some floor cleaner, and some dish detergent, and I know the windows are mostly covered but some window cleaner would be useful.”
He pauses for a second but doesn’t pull away, as if considering your request. A long silent moment stretches between you before he speaks again. “...Anything else?”
You’re surprised by how willing he seems to listen to you and your words stumble out past your lips as you go on. “Yes um, some stuff to clean the bathroom would be nice, and maybe some groceries and ingredients too if possible..” You think it would be nice to be able to make some actual meals, you were getting tired of the canned goods and cold carryout Dabi was giving you.
He pauses for another moment, thinking, before responding in an indifferent tone. “I’ll see what I can do.” You know it’s not a yes but just the possibility gets you excited and you find yourself smiling in a way you haven’t in weeks. Dabi looks at your expression almost strangely before speaking again. “But you’ll have to make a list of the ingredients you want, and no fish.” He adds on that last bit harshly. You tilt your head in confusion at the stipulation.
“No fish? why?” You inquire, and he huffs and rolls his eyes.
“I hate it, it’ll make me sick to my stomach.” He says in a simple tone. You suppose you could work with that, plenty of meals that aren’t fish based. You stow away your newfound tidbit of information on him in the back of your head, another detail about him.
Surprisingly, he does end up getting you several of the things you requested, though you suspect he probably stole them. You get to work cleaning the place, and you begin to cook actual meals. Dabi eats them with no complaint, no comment really, but he eats more than you’ve ever seen him before and you vaguely wonder when the last time he had a proper home-cooked meal was.
Eventually, after weeks of no more escape attempts, he lets you out of the bedroom full-time. He makes sure there’s no easy way for you to escape, the door is locked every second of the day, but you get free rein again.
It’s much easier now to find things to do when he’s gone, now that you’re not locked in that room constantly. He never tells you what he does or where he’s been when returns, but sometimes he comes in covered in filth and ash, and even on one occasion in blood. Sometimes he walks in as if he’s hiding an injury, not that you think he would tell you if he was. If you’ve cooked while he was gone, he always goes to the kitchen first and helps himself to the meal.
It’s easy to fall into a routine until one day he comes in, showing more obvious signs of injury, and without even locking the door behind him, he struts over to where you are in the kitchen. You were in the middle of cooking, but the food was almost done, and you stop what you’re doing to face him. Before you can even speak, he grips you by the arm tightly.
“I need you to stay in the bedroom for the rest of the night.” His voice is firm and serious, and you’re surprised by his words.
“Are you serious? Could you tell me why? I’m not even finish-” He cuts off your protests quickly, not giving you room to argue with him.
“, look I don’t have time to explain it right now, just trust me on this and get to the bedroom.” He seems exasperated, and now closer up you can see he’s irritated some of the scars on his face, the skin looking more agitated and red than usual, a staple pulled partially loose, some blood running down from it. What was going on?
“Right now?” You ask incredulously. He pulls you away from the stove, turning off the burner as he drags you partially towards the hall.
“Yes, right now, it. Just listen to me on this, and don’t come out of the room ‘til I say so.”
You let him lead you to the room as he slams the bedroom door shut, leaving you alone in there. He doesn’t lock the door though, which you’re grateful for, even if it was due to short-sightedness on his part. You hear him walk heavily back to the front door, as you strain your ear against the wood to listen.
The front door opens with a loud creak and you hear other voices enter the apartment. A high-pitched feminine voice speaks up excitedly.
“Woah Dabi, this place isn’t that bad at all! Do I smell something cooking?”
who is this?
You can’t help but wonder who Dabi would have let inside.
A different voice, a masculine one that’s rough and flat cuts through the chatter. “It’s suitable for tonight I suppose.” This person sounds largely unimpressed. Quietly, you turn the knob and open the door just a crack, slowly enough to not draw attention to yourself as you peek out.
Your heart lurches in your chest when you see the League of Villains gathered in the living room. You’ve seen enough of them in the news to recognize them, and you know most of their names from that alone. Dabi never talks about the League with you, never even mentions them, and you’ve been more than okay with that.
The expression on Dabi’s face seems irritated and you notice it seems the rest of the League seemed to have varying degrees of injuries themselves. What had they gotten into before Dabi brought them here? It must have been something major for him to bring them in.
“It i s just for tonight, don’t be getting too cozy,” Dabi says in an irritated tone, and even though you can’t see him as well from your current spot, you just knew he was rolling his eyes. You could see where the leader of the League, easily recognizing him from the hand on his face, was sprawled on the couch, his feet kicked up. The blonde teenager, Toga you believe, leaned over the side of the couch as she continue to speak in a light tone.
“Awww don’t be like that Dabi! It’s not our fault our base got found out again, besides we have to watch out for each other!” She seemed awfully perky and chipper for a villain, if you didn’t know better, you could have thought she was just an average high schooler.
The other members of the league look for places to sit comfortably while Toga speaks, unfortunately for them, the house is sparse when it comes to seating.
You decide maybe it is best to stay hidden in the bedroom for the night, and hopefully, they’ll be all gone in the morning. As you turn to back away though, the floorboards beneath your feet creak loudly. All eyes shoot toward your direction, and silence falls over the group.
“Dabi, do you have someone else here?” Shigaraki’s voice takes on a more menacing tone as he moves to stand. You feel your stomach drop and the hairs on the back of your neck stand to attention. You just hope you can’t be seen from where you stand behind the cracked door.
“Fucking Christ.” Dabi pinches the bridge of his nose as he swears, sounding more irked than before. The rest of the League stands ready as if preparing to fight, the atmosphere tense. Dabi sighs again as he continues. “You might as well come out.”
At his words, you hesitate for a minute before slowly pushing the door open and peeking your head out nervously. The rest of the League seem to start when they see you, and Dabi does a beckoning motion with his hand. You step out of the room slowly and amble your way to him.
Feeling multiple sets of wary, mistrusting eyes on you, you avert your gaze as you come to stand behind Dabi, your hands coming to cling to his arm. You hope at the very least he wouldn’t let the others harm you.
Shigaraki is the first to speak, his red eyes narrowing at you behind the hand covering his face. “Dabi, who the hell is this? His voice is harsh and biting and you flinched in response.
Before he can respond, Toga speaks up, her voice excited and loud. “Aww, they’re so cute! Where have you been keeping them this whole time?” She cranes her neck around Dabi to try to get a better look at you, a wide smile on her face. She seems so upbeat, but she carries herself with a hint of danger.
Dabi gives them your name, grumbling and still annoyed, while you choose to remain quiet. You feel incredibly nervous as you tried to keep your trembling to a minimum. You haven’t felt this much fear since Dabi first sought you out. Although you still were terrified of him, over the course of your captivity, you’ve acclimated and become accustomed to his constant presence. You haven’t even realized how used to him you’ve become until now, in the presence of other villains and feeling that old terror reignite in you.
Toga still tries to lean in close to you, despite Dabi blocking most of you from view. “I’m Himiko Toga! Are you the one who was cooking in the kitchen?”
You hesitate, looking up at Dabi’s face before nodding quietly at Toga’s question. “It’s chicken and steamed vegetables.” Your voice is small and quiet, and Toga squees at how cute you sound when speaking.
“So while we’ve been moving from place to place, virtually homeless, you’ve been playing house here with some random civilian.” Shigaraki’s sharp gaze is turned to Dabi now as he speaks. “I understand now why you’ve seemed so distracted these past several months.” His tone is harsh, but at the very least he’s not looking towards you anymore.
Dabi’s frown deepens considerably, and he replies in a biting tone. “I haven’t been distracted, I’ve stayed on top of my goals and the leagues, and don’t forget I saved your asses today. What I do in my free time is none of your business.”
Shigaraki scoffs, but he backs off somewhat. “Saying you saved our asses is a stretch, but it doesn’t matter. Are they going to be a liability?” Shigaraki’s intense gaze turns back to you and you shrink into yourself under the scrutiny. It feels strange being the topic of discussion, but not being addressed directly. If the circumstances were different, you might have even had a sarcastic quip to say out of annoyance.
Dabi glowers in response, his eyebrows knitting together. “They haven’t been a liability yet, have they? Don’t worry about it.”
Sighing and seeming to give it up, Shigaraki settles back down on the couch, a pale hand going to scratch at his neck. “Fine, as long they don’t become one. I don’t care about your personal business, as long as it doesn’t start to affect the League.”
“So this is why you were so resistant to letting us rest here? I suppose I understand now, you didn’t want us to disrupt your little love nest.” It’s the villain wearing a balaclava and a yellow coat who speaks this time, though his tone is lighter and jovial. He feels less threatening than Shigaraki, seeming more accepting of your presence here.
“Don’t ever call my apartment a love nest again.” Dabi curls his lip and wrinkles his nose as he replies.
Toga leans in closer, fully intending to get into your personal space. “I can smell your scent all over them though.” She has a near-maniacal grin as she states her observation. “I think it's cute! How did someone like Dabi manage to snag someone as pretty as you?”
Dabi bristles at the subtle jab and mumbles something about Toga being a brat. You find the witty remark coming out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Handcuffs and sleeping pills, actually.”
She laughs at your reply before seeing your deadpan expression, and how Dabi’s face contorted. “Oh my god, you’re not joking.” You suppose it’s no surprise when her smile grows even more so. “I didn’t think you’d have it in you for something like that!” She faces Dabi now, her voice still excited. “How romantic!” She squeals, and for the first time, Dabi’s face looks something close to actual discomfort.
Shigaraki barks out a rough laugh, surprising you, and seemingly everyone else. “Are you telling me, that you were so desperate for pussy you kidnapped this poor individual? Oh, this is hilarious.” Dabi seems even more uncomfortable and now even irritated as Shigaraki laughs at his expense. You would feel bad for putting him on the spot like this, but you feel as if it's at least partially what he deserves for kidnapping you in the first place.
The league as a whole seems to be a mixture of amused, excited, and uncomfortable at this moment. “That seems a little fucked up. Do whatever you want!” The villain wearing a black mask speaks up, in two completely different tones but no one pays him much mind. The lizard looking villain, spinner you think, remains silent but he seems the most uncomfortable at this revelation.
“That’s not why you freak, also mind your own business. My reasons for keeping them here doesn’t concern any of you.” His voice is tight, his expression is brooding. He turns to face you, his eyes burning holes into your own. “I think it’s time you head back to the bedroom for the night.” You decide this is not something worth arguing about, quite frankly you want to get away from everyone as soon as possible. You nod your head compliantly and turn towards the room. You don’t look behind you as you shut the door but you can hear the continued mumbles of conversation.
A few hours pass until Dabi joins you, staying out there with the League discussing who knows what. You consider eavesdropping again but decide you rather not know. You just hope Dabi isn’t upset with you when he comes to bed. You’re laying in bed, huddled under the covers, when you hear the bedroom door click, and Dabi steps inside.
He kicks his boots off and removes his coat as he walks to the bed. “Fuck, they’re annoying, I really can’t stand them. Thankfully the boss has another hideout lined up and they’ll be gone by morning.” He sits on the edge of the bed with a pained hiss.
“Are you hurt?” It’s a stupid question you already know the answer to, you saw how beat up everyone looked, but you ask it anyways.
“Mhm.” All you get in response is a hum that you take as a yes. Dabi doesn’t say anything else for a while and a long silence overtakes the room. He continues to sit on the edge of the bed, away from you. Usually when he’s around he’s all over you, you never seem to get a break from physical contact with him when he’s home. Today though he’s been off, as if something is on his mind. After a minute he speaks again.
“When did you first get your quirk?” His voice is quieter than usual as he asks. This was not the question you were expecting.
You pause, thinking before you answer. “I’m honestly not sure. My quirk isn’t anything flashy, and it’s not like people hold toddlers over open flames. I realized what my quirk was when I was about eight and I accidentally touched a hot stove.” You shrug as you speak, recounting how you found out about your flame and heat resistance to him.
“So you’ve never even experienced a burn before.” It’s not a question but you shake your head no in response regardless. He falls back against the mattress and groans out a deep sound of irritation.
He throws an arm over his face and doesn’t look at you. “It’s not fair.” His voice is barely above a whisper and you have the feeling he’s talking more to himself in this moment. “You’re not powerful, you’re not anyone of any significance, you can’t wield flames or any actually dangerous quirk.” He sucks in a shaky breath and you decide this is the time to remain quiet. “So why is it you have the one thing I don’t?” He pauses for a moment as if trying to find the words. “The one thing I was made for I can’t even do right.”
His fist clenches in a mixture of frustration and anger. “I can’t use my quirk without burning myself, I’m a failure, just like he said.” You so desperately want to know who he’s referring to but you don’t ask. This is the most open or emotional you’ve seen Dabi, and you feel as if you speak now the moment will dissipate. Instead, you make a mental note of what he says, adding more to your ever-growing list of things you know about the scarred villain. You knew he burns himself with his quirk, you suspected as much from the burns covering his body. It didn’t fully hit you until now though that this was the crux of his seemingly obsessive interest in your quirk. Why he never was able to let you go after that first meeting.
He turns to face you now, addressing you directly. “So why do you get to be resistant to my flames? I don’t get that luxury.” Dabi looks to you as if he expecting some sort of response. You instinctively want to spew something about how that’s just the complicated way quirks work, how genetics are a complete toss-up. You know though that’s probably not an answer that’ll help. Pausing for a moment, you consider your next words carefully.
“These are just the cards we’re dealt in life. We can’t do anything to change the quirks or circumstances we're born into, sometimes you just have to roll with it and deal with it the best you can. In the end, I think the limitations or abilities of someone's quirk has little to do with what they’re fully capable of.”
Dabi looks at the ceiling, his lips pursed in a tight line as he considers your words. He looks as if he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. Back to his emotionally closed-off self. You find yourself scooting over across the bed, bridging the gap between you two as you press yourself into his side. He frowns as he speaks again. “I don’t need your pity.” He says, his voice still quiet.
“I know, and I’m not offering it.” You don’t pity him, and you know he doesn’t deserve it after all he’s done. Yet, you still felt the urge to extend comfort to him, for the first time offering a closeness that he isn’t taking by force. He simply nods and allows you to lean into his side, feeling your soft skin against his own.
Within a few hours, you’re asleep but Dabi can’t help but lay awake. He considers your words, your quirk still vexes him. Everything about you vexes him. He realizes how deeply your quirk gnaws at him, beyond the initial irritation at simply being stood up against. Kidnapping you, holding you here against your will was the only option. You were constantly plaguing his mind, to the point where he worried about his own ambitions and goals being impeded.
This way, however, knowing you were under his control, that you were waiting for him when he got home, quieted the thoughts. It allowed him to focus on what was really important, it soothed his steadfast obsession with you, at least momentarily. The only other way he could have stopped these suffocating thoughts would have been to kill you outright.
As he looks at your sleeping form, he realizes just how much he doesn’t want that. You’ve become something precious to him, in his own sick twisted way, he needed you. He would rather kill you though than have you live without him, out of his grasp. He brushed a hand sweetly across your cheek as you slept peacefully next to the murderous villain. You were truly never getting away from him, not with your own life.
The next day, the League was gone, having moved to the next base they had set up. Life became routine again, you settled back into the life you had become accustomed to with Dabi. If you could forget how you ended up here, you would almost say it was peaceful. Something with Dabi had shifted as well. He was still very physically intimate towards you, but something had changed. It wasn’t just sex, or physical touches that led to sex, he held you more. He would reach out and brush your hair out of your face, he would pull you down to the couch to simply cuddle with you.
He kissed you one day, not in the angry and possessive ways he had before, but full of emotion you couldn’t describe. His lips moved against yours passionately and when he pulled away, breathing heavily, he held you closer before kissing you again, and again, showering you in them. He became tender in a way you would never have expected from him, and you didn’t understand.
Of course, though, there came the day when this peacefulness you’ve settled into changed. You were at the end of the day, a caged bird forced to live in closer quarters with a predator that could devour you whole.
There was some sort of emergency and the League needed him, as soon as possible. He got off the phone with a yelling Shigaraki, and pulled his boots and coat on in a rush, barely even taking the time to explain he was leaving for a while before heading out the front door in a haste.
You stood in the kitchen, cleaning, and waiting for the familiar boom of the door slamming shut after him and the click of the lock as he left.
Slam
You waited, for it but no click. Did you mishear? No, you always hear the slide of the lock when he leaves. He wouldn’t have forgotten to lock the door, he never does. He wouldn’t be tricking you again, not after the time that’s passed. You can no longer focus on what you were doing, the possibility of the door being unlocked eats at your mind.
After what seemed like ages of standing in the kitchen, staring into space, you walk towards the front room with a twisting feeling in your gut. You stare at the front door for another five minutes, before you get the courage to reach for the knot with a shaking hand. You’re breathing heavily now, stomach doing flips. The doorknob turns easily, obviously not locked, and taking one last shaky breath, you pull the door open slowly. You fully expect to see Dabi standing there, waiting to punish you again for having failed another test but no one is there.
All that stands in front of you is freedom.