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The twenty-five-year-old Segment was easier to fluster than you anticipated.
At first glance, he appeared serious and stern, the surgical mask that always seemed to remain on and the glint from his glasses sometimes obscuring his eyes only adding to the sense of unease. The way he cooped himself up in his lab, diagrams and notes of things he kept hidden from you, examination tables wiped clean of whatever transpired on them whenever you came in, and sharp tools set out of sight didn’t help either. It was clear he was more involved in his research, more than the older Segments, for example.
On the surface, you did not think of him as someone like Eighteen. The younger Segment was somber and angry and hurt. He was blunt while speaking, but would melt in your embrace when you showed him some attention. Twenty-Five, however, did not seem as outwardly emotional. He was also straight to the point, but he didn’t seem to be flustered around you, appearing to be more detached.
Perhaps, after so many years had passed, he’d learned to regulate such feelings. It was only natural for you to be curious, since this was what Eighteen became after, or rather, what the last version of Zandik that you knew turned into after you fell asleep. But putting aside the details, what mattered was that you once again had a Segment to do some investigating on.
The investigating being how to get Twenty-Five to pull his surgical mask down and let you give him a proper kiss, of course.
It looked like the Segment was a stickler for lab rules. You couldn’t come in unless he allowed you. According to him, it had to be wiped down and prepared for entry in compliance with his standards for your safety and comfort. And then, other personnel had to be dismissed so as not to lay their undeserving eyes on you. However, deep down, you were sure it was mostly a means to keep his experiments in the dark from you.
Regardless, that was only a very brief summary of the precautions he had in place not just for you, but for efficiency as well. And that was also why his mask always seemed to cover his nose and lips, leaving much of that lovely face to the imagination. Or perhaps it also had to do with his growing habit of hiding his face from the world.
“Are you sure I can’t get a little peek of what you’re hiding, Twenty-Five?” You’d always try to lurk behind him, waiting for a moment that he’d stop to rest and pull down his mask for fresh air, or more mischievously, a moment for him to slip up. But you could never catch him with his guard down.
“No,” he’d say, very simply.
“Not even for me? For your darling dearest?” You’d ask the next time you saw him.
“I’m afraid not.”
“Not even if I say please? Or if I want to see what it looks like when you smile or frown?” That was another attempt.
“That won’t be happening.”
“So, I can’t even stroke my lover’s cheek or kiss him properly?” You planted your cheek on his back in dissatisfaction, as he paused whenever he was writing on the board. Whenever you paid him a visit, he would always be scribbling on his wall of notes. There were no dangerous chemicals or bodies around to give you a fright. It was like he carefully prepared his work around your presence.
“Surely you have other things to do, or at least, more productive questions you can ask me?” Twenty-Five let out a sigh, his hand falling down to his side, before unclipping a diagram from the wall and pushing it into your hands. “Why don’t you look over this?” So instead of clinging to his back, you were pushed into a chair and given his notes to review. You let out a noise of disappointment but scanned over the papers with interest anyway.
If he’d given it to anyone else, they would have shuddered and called it blasphemous among sputtering things of that nature. However, the time you spent at the Akademiya with the original Zandik made certain ideas seem rather tame. Or maybe, he gave you those on purpose.
Regardless, it was clear he was waiting for you to speak, because although his attention was directed to the board in front of him, you could see Twenty-Five glancing at you from the corner of his eyes every so often. It was cute, so naturally you began asking all sorts of questions.
Although his expression remained the same, he adjusted his glasses and straightened his back, as if pleased at this new line of questioning. Perhaps he was even biting back a small smile underneath that surgical mask. He was quieter and more reserved than the other Segments, but when you got him started on his research, he became a more talkative man. Typical Zandik. Poor thing, having so many ideas and such, but with no one to listen.
The Segment had come near you now, nodding and shaking his head as he discussed with you, his normally aloof tone now containing a spark in it. While you were taking in his words with great consideration, you were also very much entranced by his features. Two wide bangs, not long and thin like the older Segments, but still fluffy. His red eyes were still visible, and although the glare from the light sometimes blocked them, it was more amusing than intimidating, in your opinion.
Twenty-Five was very pretty, and that just made you want to kiss him. So you did.
Well, kind of. You weren’t sure if it truly qualified as a kiss. You only reached to press your lips against the thin fabric blocking you from his actual lips, but it was still enjoyable nonetheless, as you could feel a bit of his real softness anyway. You were pleased and grinned at your success, not very fazed, as if what you did was perfectly normal, while the Segment had gone quiet at your advances.
“Mhm, what were you saying?” You batted your eyes at him, and you couldn’t help but wonder if his mouth was slightly ajar, or if there was a blush on his cheeks. You weren’t sure whether to expect a reaction or not, but after a few moments, Twenty-Five only flicked his glasses up with his finger and cleared his throat before continuing his dialogue.
He was a bit harder to crack, wasn’t he?
—
That was what you thought, but soon enough, you noticed that Twenty-Five was seeking you out, which was unusual. Research consumed much of his time, so a lot of the time you spent with him was following him into his lab or making him take breaks for eating. It was different than the other Segments who’d, for example, sneak into your room with you or insist on you spending the night in theirs.
So when Twenty-Five had popped up near you, making your heart jump out of your chest as he just silently stood there and watched you, you found it quite interesting.
It wasn’t like he had any pressing matters to discuss with you, unlike Eighteen, who would make up one so it seemed like it wasn’t his own personal feelings getting in the way. But Twenty-Five knew the right questions to ask to make you do most of the talking, as he was much more of a listener when it came to mundane and non-research-related matters. He would simply walk with you, taking everything you were saying with great seriousness even if you were just being silly. And then that walk would end up with the two of you in front of the entrance to his lab, somehow.
You quickly caught on, no matter how subtle he tried to be.
Unfortunately, for how meticulously he seemed to have planned for you to end up in his trap, it looked like he was too awkward to put the final step into action. You could tell from the way he would quietly stare at you, as if contemplating something, playing with the rim of his glasses, a habit of his. Eighteen would frequently end up doing something stupid if he made the first move. Twenty-Five was only a few years older. Perhaps he was mature enough to know the consequences of such things and was painstakingly waiting for the best possible moment.
You weren’t sure which type of pathetic was more endearing. Regardless, you were used to taking romantic matters into your own hands due to this. So one day, you just… did.
You were sat in Twenty-Five’s lab, with his papers and whatnot scattered about. The Segment had gone from scribbling on the board, reading through books, doodling some visuals, and then finally settled near you all while you watched.
“Do you have something you want to say to me?” You narrowed your eyes at him, gesturing vaguely with a smile.
“No, not particularly. Did you?” As usual, calm, collected, and deflecting, but you liked it.
“I do. Come closer.” You reached your hand out, innocently enough, flexing your fingers to squeeze him, and of course, he listened. You placed your hand on the center of Twenty-Five’s chest experimentally, to which the Segment’s eyebrows twitched, but remained silent.
And then, you finally went in for what you really wanted, tugging on the tie that peeked out from above his lab coat. He didn’t really stumble or move all that much, considering your strength was not enough to physically push him around, especially when he was paying close attention to your movements. But it was enough to signify your intentions and bring him closer to you, both your hands remaining firm on the tie.
“I want to kiss you again. Can I?” Of course, he was the one pursuing you this whole time, but it saved a lot of time if you just spun the story like this. Before he could answer, your hand was already caressing his cheek, brushing against the fabric of the mask. Twenty-Five swallowed.
“I have been giving it some thought,” he said, as if a kiss had been taking up a large portion of his thoughts. “Based on experience, I suppose if I don’t say yes now, you’ll ask me about it every time we meet.”
“Yes, that’s right. So if you don’t mind…” Your finger curled on the top edge of the mask teasingly, before pulling it down to reveal what you’ve been daydreaming about. You leaned in until your lips connected with Twenty-Five’s.
Your eyes fluttered shut, and you naturally smiled into the kiss, grasping the cloth on his back. His lips were delightfully soft, a shame they were nearly always hidden under his surgical mask. He still seemed a bit awkward about it, not in Eighteen’s flustered and combative way, but in a quiet yet eager one. It was evident in the way Twenty-Five kissed back, drinking in your soft giggles and sighs and patiently watching.
Well, at least in the beginning.
You had pulled back after a few moments with a satisfied hum and looked back at the Segment to see his face, and that’s when you noticed his eyes were hard to see, the lenses a different shade. More specifically, it seemed that Twenty-Five’s glasses had fogged up from… kissing? Perhaps it was from the warmth of the kiss in the cool lab?
It was obvious that the scholar was more than aware of it. In the beginning, he carefully observed you like you were under a microscope. Your expressions, body movements, all of it, tucking it away for further reference. He wasn’t like Eighteen, who would make himself a fool in front of you, less than impressive. No, he was more than capable of controlling himself.
That was until you kissed him for the first time.
The moment your lips touched his, all of his calculating plans blanked in his head. You held him like he was dear, kissed him with more meaning than he could properly express, all while the most he could do was automatically kiss back so as not to look idiotic. It was clear you knew more about this than he did. An embarrassing notion. The unfamiliar sensation of heat rising to his cheeks, something he’d rarely ever felt, didn’t make things better.
He had learned to hide his feelings, to suppress his expressions, to cover up his bluntness, but was he truly all that different from Eighteen deep down?
“Excuse me.” He cleared his throat before producing a small cloth from his pocket to clean his glasses. Twenty-Five turned his back on you as he took off the glasses, and you immediately frowned and moved in front of him.
“Don’t do that,” you pouted before taking in his face without the eyewear. “Oh, you look cute without them on. I like it.” You nodded in approval as you leaned in as close as you could, and the Segment only let out a sigh and looked away to wipe away the fog in his glasses. He hoped his faint blush had disappeared by now. Next time, he’d make sure that wouldn’t happen again…
“You should let me see you without them more often. And the mask, of course. In bed, perhaps?” Although his hands were nearly always careful and methodical, almost in a machine-like way, the Segment nearly broke the lenses of his glasses at your words. “I mean, you rarely ever come visit me. I get lonely, you know?” You let out a sad sigh, clutching your chest as if your heart was aching. He truly didn’t know whether you were doing this on purpose or not.
The Segment ended up agreeing to your persistence anyway.
After you had left, Twenty-Five had attempted to get back to work. The tables were clean, the trays of tools to the side, he’d changed his gloves and mask, and the test subjects were ready to be brought in for dissection. And yet, when he took hold of the scalpel in his hand, his arms would not steady, shaking from where your fingers dragged along and teased him.
He’d just do something else for now.
—
Twenty-Five, or rather, the original Zandik when he was that age, had studied Eleazar in depth in hopes it would lead to a breakthrough with your own illness. And while he had learned how to suppress the symptoms of that illness, it did not provide many answers for your case. But the Segment still dabbled in it, considering the great knowledge he gained from studying it, and for the… patients that were brought in.
So that was why, with his medical knowledge, he often took care of you when you weren’t feeling well. You were probably the only person who sat on the examination tables and lived to see another day. Twenty-Five had all but confirmed it from the time his hand slipped over your eyes, blocking your vision from reading through the report he had left out, that was not for your perusal. The same gloved hands that took people apart with clinical detachment managed to put you back together with tender care.
But that wasn’t the point.
You lay down on the metal table, hands folded, as Twenty-Five moved the blinding light in front of you to the side. Your medical record was in his hands as he wrote down your complaints.
“Tired. Exhausted… Sleepy,” you yawn, blinking your eyes. It seemed like all your energy had been sapped from you.
“You’ve been saying that for a while,” Twenty-Five said as he filled out your history, and you let out a sound of agreement. He had been doing this for so long, he could probably do it with his eyes closed. And yet it was not something to be proud of. All these years, and yet no cure had made its way into his hands. But that was not to be dwelled on right now.
Gloved hands rested on your forehead, and your eyes shut at the lovely feeling. No fever, he noted. He examined your eyes, ears, mouth, heartbeat, and body like he usually did. He moved away to shuffle through the cabinets, where bottles of medicine and things of the like were stored.
Twenty-Five took one bottle and examined it. He had given it to you before, but it didn’t seem to have much of an effect. But there was no harm in trying it again.
He looked at another bottle. No, it was too early to administer these. It was still in the trial phase, and needed to be tested on others first.
And then the last bottle. It had been fully tested and developed, and was safe for you to use now. Quiet chuckles echoed from behind him.
“What are you laughing at now?”
“I was just thinking, you really do seem like ‘The Doctor’ right now,” you softly giggled. “You’re in extra serious mode.” The Segment didn’t respond, only sighing. He prepared a glass of water for you and asked you to sit up.
“Open your mouth,” he requested, and you listened as he pushed the tablet onto your tongue, and you quickly swallowed with some water. “Good. You can stay here for a bit, and let me know how you feel.” He began to clean up the area as you nodded.
Twenty-Five was always so serious, strict, and pent-up about his feelings, despite your efforts to get him to lighten up. But you supposed he couldn’t help it, especially when he saw you so weak. Still, you had to at least try. To show your love and care for him.
“I think you forgot something.” Your words immediately drew his attention to you.
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” He grasped your chin with his fingers and tilted your face, trying to find any sign of discomfort.
“Not unwell. A bit hurt, though.” Twenty-Five stared at you. “You forgot my ‘feel better soon’ kiss,” you said cheekily as you tapped your face. Some tension left the Segment’s shoulders as a somewhat relieved, somewhat exasperated noise escaped him. He should have known better, but…
Twenty-Five lowered his mask and placed a kiss on your forehead, and you smiled in appreciation, knowing he’d always take care of you.
The travelers stronger than me if that man treated me like that and sweet talked me and praised me like that and got all close and personal with me YES I would’ve gone to his lab and sucked him dry
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lazy mornings with everyone's favorite arsonist <3 dabi x reader
there's a monster in your bed.
his breathing is a little uneven, but what can you expect from someone with a body as battered and bruised as his? his lashes flutter in his sleep, lips parted just the slightest bit as a sliver of drool leaks from the corner of his mouth and transverses the path of skin from your collarbones towards the valley of your breasts.
you may have been shivering if it was anyone else lying beside you, but dabi runs warm. his body heat envelops you entirely. your arms curl around his form, keeping him flush against you. your legs do the same, with the heels of your feet pressing into his lower back as you yawn. your eyes moisture from the movement before cracking open and squinting at the sunlight streaming through the curtains and onto your face
you and dabi have an odd way of sleeping together. other couples usually spoon each other or cuddle or something cuter than... whatever it is that you and dabi do. you two cling to each other like something was actively trying to pry you apart while you were asleep, and it feels like there isn't a single inch of skin of yours that isn't pressed against his.
you look away from the curtains and back towards him. his staples press into your skin, making minor indents that'll fade with time. occasionally, they'll be nicking you, cutting you when he's unaware and sleeping, making you bleed—but, it's a price you'll happily pay if it means you get to hold your monster nice and close. he shifts once more, and you can tell he's starting to wake up when you hear the quiet sigh that slips past his mouth as his nose presses against the column of your throat
"you up?" he finally murmurs, eyes still closed and voice raspy and deep with sleep. you don't respond at first, carding a hand through his black strands instead
"i'm up. sleep well?" you coo, keenly taking advantage of the fact that he's too drowsy to scowl at your infantilizing tone to use it
"sure." dabi says. his palm moves up the slope of your spine to help himself sit up, and he does so with a grunt. the blanket pools around his waist at the movement before he leans his back against the bed frame, and you quickly scoot forward and drop your head in his lap
he watches you get comfortable silently, making no move to intervene as you press your face against his tummy contently. your arms loop around his middle with a yawn
"i gotta go," he tells you
"'kay."
"it's another important mission for me. the boss is gonna be on my ass if i slack off even a little."
"you're always slacking off."
those words earn you a swift flick to the forehead, and you let out a soft whine before tightening your grip on him
"don't go, dabi. why can't you stay here? i'll make your favorite for breakfast if you do." you promise, and that seems to do the trick, because dabi rolls his eyes with an annoyed sigh before answering you
"whatever. you're annoying." he grumbles, slumping back against the headboard as he gathers you in his arms to pull you closer. you let out a satisfied hum and get comfortable as he noses at your hairline
"but i'm leaving right after breakfast. don't even start with your nonsense when the time comes."
"...'kay."
dabi won't admit that he feels bad eating with you and leaving right after, so he uses the excuse that he doesn't want to listen to you complaining that he doesn't help around to stay a little longer and aid in tidying up the kitchen with you
you get to keep your hold on dabi for at least another hour after that, wasting an extra ten minutes of his in the doorway alone while smothering his face in kisses and trying to smooth down the spikes in his hair so he looked "presentable" for his meeting with shigaraki. as if that was possible for a villain that looked like he did
but, even as dabi is leaving your apartment, stomping down the complex's stairs and muttering an angry string of jumbled up incoherent nonsense underneath his breath, he's flushed, and the heat behind his scars had nothing to do with his quirk. all the credit for it went to you, and he can't even try to deny how much he liked waking up with you and how only you could have someone as grumpy as him in a somewhat pleased mood so early in the morning.
i'm not really into poly relationships myself but i love the idea of dottore being kind of the third in pantalone's relationship. like he's just there. it's you and feofan and the weird little hehehoho guy who's keeping your husband alive through a suspicious concoction! <3
it's even better if pantalone's s/o actually has things in common with dottore as well. not necessarily overlap in his field of "study", but someone who understands enough about research to discuss his experiments and offer some insights of their own. i think that would earn you zandik's respect and he'd start seeing you as an equal rather than just an extension of pantalone lol. not to mention, seeing you accepting and loving pantalone with all of his sins and flaws...he wants that too! even if not romantically. he'd also show you his failed experiments thinking you'd find them cute (he shows you his lizard and foxttore and the dottolings and you have to convince him to keep them around)
also ever since i've seen that cutscene of dottore playing the piano i cannot stop thinking of a scenario where he plays a piece for pantalone and his partner to dance to. it's such a calming and domestic scene: dottore is content playing for the only two people in the world who accept him as he is, while dancing helps pantalone relieve stress so he doesn't go for a smoke <3 i love my evil husband and his evil husband so much!!!! <3
When Dottore found out Pantalone had taken a serious partner, he wasn't exactly sure how to feel or what to do besides being surprised. They were both closed-off men, having their own grand walls that were hard to pierce due to built-up mistrust of others. And yet somehow Pantalone was willingly letting someone into those walls, and he hadn't even realized. Dottore had seen the banker get somewhat familiar with others in the past, but it was only casual, nothing serious, so for him to take a spouse made him pause.
"Are you interested in them, Dottore?" Pantalone smiled as he gazed at his co-worker's unreadable expression.
"... I only wonder what sort of person has managed to compel you so much. Are you sure there's no ulterior motive to this relationship?" The scholar's words only made Pantalone smile some more.
"Perhaps you should come visit. I think you'll become rather fond of them." Pantalone only extended an invitation while Dottore scoffed at the notion. But he ended up going anyway.
--
The Doctor had unintentionally come across you while on his way to Regrator's office. It was the first meeting, but both of you seemed to recognize each other immediately anyway. You were bathed in the Ninth's luxury, dressed in simple yet fine garments, with tea and sweets on the table in the spacious room.
"What should I call you? My Lord? Lord Dottore? Doctor?" Though you called him with respect, he could sense a hint of amusement in your voice, like you were testing him somehow.
"Just 'Dottore' is fine. And you're [Name], I assume?" Although he didn't particularly want to carry on a conversation, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't even a bit intrigued. Or maybe it was because Pantalone would end up saying something to him if he brushed you off so easily.
"That's right. I'm glad Feofan has spoken about me. He's told me a bit about you too, Dottore." You smiled at him while he only nodded, and you could tell this wasn't exactly his ideal place to be. "Well then, he's waiting for you. Hopefully, we can meet again." You picked up your book again, and he was about to leave before he noticed what exactly you were reading, which made him linger.
"That's... an interesting read you have there." Dottore couldn't help but speak once he caught sight of your literature. That made you perk up and smile at him again.
"I guess I should have expected you to recognize it."
"Well, there are not many people out there who would blaspheme against the gods with no fear of repercussion, much less write about it." He suddenly became talkative as if you'd unlocked something in him. It was then that you shut the book and gestured to the empty seat near you. Despite his words, he hesitated at the offer until you started plating a few sweets for him.
"Feofan says you like these. Come, I can't eat all by myself." Dottore quietly sat at your insistence, watching as you cradled your cheek in your palm while you observed him. "You seem a bit surprised, I think."
"I simply didn't expect you to be drawn to such material."
"Considering you're keeping Feofan alive with methods I'm sure are... questionable, it should be no surprise I am familiar with such things. And that's not including the other things you and Feofan are trying to do." You just shrugged your shoulders, and that's when Dottore realized you knew more than he initially thought. But more importantly, that's when he knew you and Pantalone were kindred minds, and if that was true, then you and Dottore were also-
"You know, I'm certainly no Feofan, and I'm surely not you either. But perhaps that's for the best. Maybe I can offer you something different. A different sort of discussion, a different voice." Your offer brought him back to reality. You were offering to talk to him, to debate agreed-upon or disagreed-upon ideas, the same as he did with Pantalone.
"Hmm." A smile quirked up on Dottore's lips. "Then do not disappoint me, [Name]."
"Back at you... Dottore."
--
Unfortunately, Pantalone was right. Dottore had become fond of you. He liked listening to you. Soon, your presence became commonplace at meetings and such, and he had grown accustomed, even pleased, to you being at Pantalone's side. Even someone like him could see how much you adored his fellow Harbinger, fussing over him, even convincing him not to smoke in a particular moment - that especially impressed Dottore. Another pair of eyes watching over him regarding his health was quite useful. And Feofan was equally as enamored by you - Dottore could see it oh so easily after knowing him for ages. He liked that.
And then he started inviting you over to his lab.
"Do you like them?" Dottore kept repeating that question every time he showed you something different, as if he were looking for your approval. First, it was a lizard that he said was very important. Then, it was a strange blue creature that hissed at you before calming down when you gave him treats. Soon, black fluff balls hopped around you with excitement and climbed up your legs.
"They are rather cute. Can we keep them? I think Feofan likes them too." Dottore clicked his tongue at that. He had a few too many memories of his creations choosing the banker over him. And now it was the same for you, but he didn't mind much anymore.
--
"Does he really always do this?" You questioned your husband as Dottore's fingers glided across the piano's keys.
"Every time," Pantalone affirmed as his fingers intertwined with yours. "He always insists on playing when we meet like this."
"Well, I quite like it. You play very well, Zandik. We should do this more often, if this is the case," you praised him as Pantalone twirled you around in time to the music.
"I'm glad at least one of you appreciates my efforts," Dottore chuckled as he eyed the two of you dancing.
"I never said I didn't, Zandik." Pantalone lightly defended himself as he pulled you closer. There was no need for words outside of some teasing, as all three of you basked in the moment together with shared fondness for each other.
Dottore was born an outcast long ago, lurking in the shadows as a heretic with no one to accept him. But now, if he had to put it into words, although a part of him wouldn't admit it - he only truly ever felt content with the two of you.
it's during those quiet, rainy nights where you learn how soothing his voice can be. after the first few months of knowing him, you had learned that he doesn't usually talk much, and when he does, it's usually snappy quips or dry remarks that don't come from the heart, and the gravelly sound of his voice that carries throughout the room isn't usually described as... comforting by others.
but to you? his voice is the fire in the most frigid cold, reassuring and familiar in all the ways that feel like home. you could listen to him talk for hours.
"—and there's all sorts of superficial convictions heroes have, and i'm not sure what pisses me off more, their stupid costumes or their empty promises. that kinda stuff isn't worth being put on a pedestal, you know?" he murmurs, palm traveling up and down the length of your spine idly as you let out a sleepy hum
"you better not be ignoring me by falling asleep." he snaps suddenly, and your lashes flutter open with a breathy giggle as you quickly move your head in a lethargic nod to acknowledge his prior words
"no, no—i'm listening. and i get what you mean, i like how you search for the realest parts of everyone. and the people that are full of the strongest of convictions. just like yourself." you coo, and dabi lets out a huff before drumming his fingers against your waist in silent thought
"you're right. and you should always chose the people you trust carefully." he replies monotonously, staring up at the ceiling with unblinking eyes. you sneak a peek at his side profile, lips twitching as you observe the serious look that's overcome his face. you like when dabi gets like this—comfortable enough to share his thoughts, his opinions—comfortable enough to let you peer inside all the chaos that is his mind.
"is that how you and i are together? did you see how real i was, how true i was to myself and most definitely to you?" you grin, poking his cheek playfully, and dabi's head tilts down to meet your gaze before a slanted smirk tugs the corner of his scarred lips upward
"nah, you just wiggled your way through the cracks. like a cute lil' sewer rat."
he barks out a laugh when you smack his chest before shaking his head — "no, no. 'course i chose you myself. i wouldn't let just anyone sleep in my pathetic excuse of a bed like this." he comments dryly, waving a hand around and gesturing to the darkened room you two occupied. you laugh brightly as you pull the thin blanket around the two of you tighter, hair spilling over your shoulders as you hover over his form
"it may be a twin mattress too small for even just one person, but that just means i get to be all the more closer to you, right?" you beam, and he rolls his eyes so far back and dramatically that you can't help but giggle at the sight
"don't get cheeky." he mumbles, pulling you back into his arms as you fall against his chest with a muffled oof! — then, dabi presses a hand to the back of your head and stuffs your face into his chest a moment later
"now shut up and go to sleep. any more giggles out of your mouth and we'll be up all night."
"are you sleepy, baby?"
dabi flushes immediately at the nickname, blue eyes widening a fraction before he scowls down at you and pinches your waist. you yelp, and he huffs before reaching forward and placing his mouth on your own, offering you enough gentle pecks to melt away your little frown
"goodnight." you murmur once satisfied, and the arms wound tight around your waist loosen with time as dabi fell into a deep slumber, body gone slack beneath your own, and the only sound you can hear is the gentle thump of his heartbeat against your ear and the distant ambiance of the rainstorm outside
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
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