#dabei x reader

His eyes follow random people walking by with as much interest as someone doing their taxes. None of them piques his interest, none of them would be potential candidates for the League of Villains (he still thinks it’s a stupid name but he’s not the leader nor does he particularly care). After the first meeting a couple of weeks ago with Shigaraki he’s been out looking for like-minded villains but he didn’t seem to find the right people. All of them have been a waste of time so far and he’s starting to get bored with his task. He needs some distraction. 

Dabi walks past the shops of a not so busy street; the stares of the people not bothering him in the slightest. Let them stare, he’d think. They’ll stare even more once they know the truth about him. 

You have to mentally prepare yourself to order this much-needed coffee you’ve been craving for the past two days. You had asked your mom to bring you one when she went grocery shopping but she told you to “get your lazy ass outside once in a while and get the coffee yourself”. So now, here you are, leaving the comfort of your cozy room just for some coffee. 

“Next, please!” you take a deep breath and step forward, your face already feeling hot and you’re sure you must look like you’re in pain because the barista looks at you concerned. 

“What can I get you?”

“Can I….can I get a lall….” You feel your face heat up more and more and you are certain the other people behind you are staring at you, judging your incompetence while ordering a simple coffee. The barista smiles at you encouraging but you know he is judging you as well! He thinks you’re pitiful and pathetic and he is right. He opens his mouth to inquire what you want when you take a deep breath and burst out your order.

“Canigetalargecoffewithextramilkandsugar!?” Everyone goes quiet around you and you want to sink into the ground and just disappear. 

The barista looks at you wide eyed before he nods and repeats your order, just slower.

“One large coffee with extra milk and sugar. ‘s that correct?” he asks and you just nod. He types it in and asks you if you need anything else but you just mumble out a “no thank you”. He nods again and tells you the total. 

You grab your purse and look for your wallet, praying to God that you didn’t leave it at home. Relief floods you when you feel it and pull it out. With shaky hands you draw your credit card and place it against the card reader. A quick beep informs you that your card has been approved and the barista tells you to please wait for your coffee. 

It was sheer coincidence that Dabi waked past this coffee shop and just so happened to witness this bizarre interaction. He couldn’t help but stop and follow your struggle with his eyes. Sure, he didn’t hear what you were saying but he isn’t stupid; the reaction from the people around you told him everything he needed to know. 

He watches you grab your coffee hurriedly and you seem to be looking for a seat inside the café but the only seats available are the once outside. He tries to guess whether you will sit outside or just leave but both options seem to be likely. 

To his delight you choose to sit at one of the tables outside; the furthest away from everyone of course to have as few interactions as possible. You are small, almost fragile looking and your glasses make you look younger than you probably are. Oh, it’s been a while since Dabi found someone so…..timid, so…..not prepared for the real world. He’d go as far as to say that interacting with other people causes you some sort of mental pain but that’s just a hunch. He watches you take out your phone and headphones, brushing away your short hair to move them out of the way. “Forget it.” He mumbles to himself and strides over to where you’re sitting, his hands buried deep inside his pockets.

You notice a shadow but don’t look up, thinking it’s either just someone passing by or a beggar wanting some change. You are mistaken. With a dull thud someone drops down into the chair next to you, one arm leisurely resting on the backrest of your chair. Your whole body tenses and you don’t dare to look up but you feel the person next to you is eyeing you intently to the point where it’s way past being uncomfortable. 

You slowly turn your head to your left; the first thing you see are a pair of thick black boots firmly placed on the ground. The coat he’s wearing almost touches the ground as well but not quite. His dark pants are held up by a grey belt and underneath this long coat he’s wearing a white shirt. You want to say something but every word that might have come out of your mouth his being silenced by the horrendous look that presents itself in front of you when you see his face. 

Dark red, charred, patches of skin seem to be attached to the rest of his face by nothing but staples. Your mouth hangs open and you feel like you’re in some kind of horror movie. Is he a zombie. 

“It’s rude to stare.” The man says in a monotone voice though you’re sure there is a glint of amusement in his hooded turquoise eyes. The three piercings in his nose twinkle in the sun light as well as the staples. 

Out of the corner of your eyes you see his arm resting on your chair and you lean forward just a little bit in order not to touch him. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Whatcha drinkin’?” he asks nodding towards your coffee. You are completely overwhelmed by this situation and you sheepishly look around for help but everyone is ignoring you. Of course, the two freaks must know each other, you think angrily to yourself but this doesn’t get you out of this situation. 

“C-coffee…” you mumble and Dabi has to lean forward in order to catch what you’re saying. You instinctively squirm away from him which makes him chuckle in return. “Relax. Not gonna hurt ya.” He says, his hand casually brushing against your arm which makes you squirm even more. “Just coffee? Or with some fancy flavor? Maybe you can give me some recommendation. First time coming to this part of town. This a good café?” being bombarded with questions makes your head spin for a moment. Which one should you reply to first? Is he being serious? You doubt it but like hell will you call him out on his bullshit!

“It’s a good place.” You mumble, lifting your hand up to your face and first scratching your neck out of discomfort and then you instinctively go over to nibbling at your fingers before straight out biting your nails. It’s a bad habit of yours which your mom has scolded you for time and time again but you can’t seem to stop it. Every time you look at your nails you are reminded of your inability to cope with stressful situations in a more healthy manner, which makes you more anxious in return. 

Dabi huffs amused and leans in closer to you, his arm which is resting against your chair pulls you casually against him as well. You stiffen and a cold shudder runs down your spine. You don’t like it. The close proximity to this stranger makes you want to vomit but you hold it back. Why can’t he just leave? 

To make things worse does his arm snake around you even more and he grabs your hand from your lips, his long, slender fingers holding yours in an almost iron grip. “Whoa, your nails look awful.” The taunting tone in his voice has you sinking into your chair, trying to pull your hand away from him. Shame and embarrassment flow through every vein of your body. It’s bad enough your mom keeps nagging you about it but now a stranger as well? He shows mercy though as his warm hand slowly loosens its grip around your soft fingers until your hand slips out of his.

Dabi leans back with a satisfied grin on his face.  You want to retort something, you want to tell him that his whole appearance looks awful but even though he makes you uncomfortable, even though he keeps taunting and harassing you; you can’t bring yourself to criticize his looks when it’s obvious that the charred skin comes from a fire or something like that and you know the moment you open your mouth to mock him, you’d regret it. 

“Why are you out here all by yourself anyway? Waitin’ for your friends? Maybe your boyfriend?” His voice drops an octave when insinuating a potential boyfriend. You know he can’t possibly think you have a boyfriend so you conclude that he is trying to find your weak spots (which you have plenty of) and it drives you crazy. Why does he keep taunting you? Why does he keep making fun of you? Is this some kind of sick game? 

You shuffle uncomfortably in your seat, unsure how to answer his questions. Be honest? Or lie? Or just ignore it? You opt to go with option number one. You’re not a good liar and you have a feeling that he will keep pestering you. 

“Here by myself.” You reply. Dabi leans back in his seat and examines your form for a moment, his turquoise eyes reflecting the sun from above, making them even more piercing. “Is that so.” He simply responds. You can see his brain working hard behind those eyes and you kind of wished you could hear his thoughts but there is nothing but silence. 

Dabi retrieves his arm from your chair. You let out a sigh of relief in return, glad the uncomfortable human contact stopped. Now he just needs to-

“Can I try it?” he points at your drink but instead of waiting for your reply he simply grabs it and takes a big sip. 

Out of the corners of his eyes he sees you opening and closing you mouth like a fish but no sound comes out. He knows you want to tell him to stop; to stop drinking your coffee, to stop intruding your personal space to just stop bothering you. But you don’t. You press you lips together tightly and avert your eyes, frustration mirroring in your surprisingly pretty eyes. 

“Too much milk and sugar. Shoulda ordered it black.” He comments but keeps drinking your coffee until he empties it until the last drop and places it on the table in front of you again. You are simply flabbergasted by his behavior but instead if voicing your irritation you just shift in your seat once again, no sound coming from you. 

A crooked grin appears on his lips at your reaction. “Was nice meeting you but I gotta go. See ya around.” He places his hands on his thighs before getting up, his eyes never leaving your flustered from. You don’t reply. You don’t even acknowledge him leaving. Your eyes just stare at the empty cup in front of you while his heavy footsteps slowly walk away. 

.

.

.

Dabi doesn’t look back either but he’s feeling something exciting tingling in his stomach. He’s met a lot of people being uncomfortable around him but you’re on a whole ‘nother level. You’re not just awkward around him but around everyone. The way you squirmed in your seat when he sat down, let alone when he had his arm around you; priceless! He is not a power hungry man but he can’t deny the feeling of superiority he had around you and how willing you seemed to just accept your fate, even though you were visibly frustrated with him. You could be a fun pastime while the League of Villains is still looking for new recruits. He would just let the others do the scouting. After all, he would only burn possible allies to dust anyways. 

.

.

.

 You are an utter mess when you leave the café and at first you just walk aimlessly around, trying to gather your thoughts. As much as you’d like to deny it but this interaction has you scared. Why? You don’t know but just the way he behaved with this whole demeanor…it was too much for you. You’ve never met anyone with this much confidence or rather this much audacity like him. A quick thought passes through your mind that he might’ve been on drugs? But there were no indications for that and he didn’t really strike you as a junkie. 

You stop at a corner and take a deep breath. It’s over, you will never see him again. This was a once and a lifetime interaction and it just reaffirms your conviction to leave the house as little as possible. You take a quick look at your phone for the time and note that it’s time to go back home. Enough time spent outside. You need to go back to the comfort of your own room. 

.

.

.

It’s really just coincidence that he sees you again while you cross the street but it plays into his hands. He wouldn’t necessarily consider himself a stalker just because he starts following you, his hands buried inside his pockets and heavy boots making a dull thud against the concrete floor. The word “stalker” describes losers who can’t get the girl but he knows he could get you.  He would much rather consider himself a predator who stalks his prey until he's cornered it, its wide fearful eyes looking up at him, waiting for him to strike. And you just happen to fit the description of the perfect prey. 

You curse yourself for not taking the car but for some odd reason you thought walking all the way to town was a good idea to clear your head and also give your body some exercise on the way. And the way here was fine. The way back is the problem. When making the decision to walk you didn’t consider the fact that you might not want to walk all the way back as well. Your feet are tired and from all the exercise this day. For a moment you contemplate calling an Uber but you decide against it. As much as you don’t want to continue walking you still need to sort your thoughts and being in a car with yet another stranger won’t help you in the slightest. 

You leave the city and the spaces between houses grow bigger and bigger with property lines stretching far back behind the houses yet big trees obstruct the view on the properties. Said trees also line up on either side of the street, their green crowns offering shade for the occasional pedestrian. But right now, the sun is about to set and a cool breeze hits your face and makes you burry your hands deeper into your sweatshirt pocket and pull up your shoulders. With fast footsteps you are getting closer and closer to your home; you know the way by heart ever since you were a little child walking to elementary school with your friends and could probably also walk the way with your eyes closed. 

You think back to this strange man from the café; you simply can’t get those calculating turquoise eyes out of your mind. They were mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time. They burnt their way right into your mind and now keep following you with every step you take. You suddenly feel uneasy and without thinking turn your head to look behind you. I’m just too paranoid. I’m just not used to being outside. You keep telling yourself to calm down and that your mind is playing games with you but there is this nagging feeling that you are being watched. 

Another cold breeze comes from behind; it feels colder than the previous one and more forceful. Your short hair tickles your ear as if it is trying to tell you something. You turn your head around once again, this time looking harder if you can see anyone. Some leaves dance across the street carried by the wind which seems to be picking up. There is light coming from a house across the street and an older looking man is leaning against the counter across the window, a bottle of beer in hand and absentmindedly looking out the window. 

You cautiously walk a few steps, your eyes scanning the area one more time before you look ahead and keep walking. You pick up your pace, the uneasiness from before slowly but surely turning into straight paranoia as you constantly feel a pair of turquoise eyes watching you from behind. But there is nothing. You shake your head but the image has burnt itself into your brain and you can’t seem to shake it off, to get rid of it. 

You spin around when you hear a rustling behind you, eyes wide open with panic, trying to find the source of the sudden noise. Your body is tense and your heart is racing. Another rustling. You take a step back, pulling your backpack in front of you for a false sense of security. But yet again, you see nothing. You need to get back home. ASAP. 

Even if you look insane, you start running with your backpack pressed against your chest. Your lungs soon start burning from the lack of oxygen and the lack of prior exercise. You take a mental note to start jogging one day. Just for cases like this where you feel unsafe and need to get out of a situation. 

You try to push yourself to run further but your body is not playing along and you need to stop. You heart is pounding in your chest and you are sure whoever is following you can hear it as well. You press your hands into your sides, letting your backpack drop to the ground in order to alleviate the pain. 

Once you’ve caught your breath you pick up the backpack again while your head looks around. Nothing there. Due to the adrenaline rushing through your body your senses seem to pick up as well because you are certain you hear heavy footsteps somewhere in the distance behind you. The same sound this man’s footsteps made when he left. Slow but heavy, each step promising misery if you stand in his way. 

You start walking purposefully (your lungs are still burning) and can finally see the unremarkable house on the left side of the street with the black mail box (your suggestion when you were younger). Relief replaces the adrenaline when you turn into the driveway, cross the lawn and hurry up the stairs to your front door. Your hand grabs the doorknob and turns it, the warm and familiar smell of home greeting you from the inside. 

You take a step forward, your right foot crossing the threshold when your body freezes in place, a cold shiver creeping down your body and every single hair on your body seems to be standing straight as if you were being electrocuted. 

Ever so slowly an almost hot hand is grabbing you by the neck. It’s featherily light, like a hot summer breeze but it’s pushing you down, intending to force you to give in and fall. Those turquoise eyes are now boring themselves into the back of your skull and it takes every bit of willpower you have to cross the threshold completely and close the door behind you. Instantly, the hand leaves your neck and you are met with your mom sticking out her head from the kitchen, a tired smile on her lips. 

“Welcome back, honey. Hope you had a nice day.”

.

.

.

Dabi is delighted, to say the least. He is leaning against a tree, his eyes still glued to the closed door of your house. Through a window close to the door he can see you hurry up the stairs where he presumes your room is located. 

Seeing you so distraught when you thought someone was following you gave him chills of excitement. So scared, so….breakable. Sure, he was following you but you didn’t know that so your paranoia was even more enticing. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket. A quick look at the display has him click his tongue and he shoves the device back into his pocket. Shigaraki could wait. He has found a plaything he couldn’t possibly let out of his sight. Not after all the entertainment you’ve already provided. 

.

.

.

To be honest, he thought it would be more fun watching you. It didn’t take long for him to figure out where your room was located and as luck would have it, it is right next to an enormous tree. While scouting the area at night he found the perfect branch to sit on. He is still covered by the leaves but has a good look inside. 

You mostly play video games or read books, sometimes texting with what he assumes are your friends but other than that, nothing interesting. To put it simple: you are a hermit. This would explain your behavior at the café the other week. Secretly, he hoped you’d do something more…forbidden. But apart from being withdrawn from society you are also quite innocent. At least for now. 

The first day he thought you were like Shigaraki but he disregards this thought just as fast. Shigaraki has been bothering him for the past couple of days; he keeps complaining over the lack of new recruits but at the same time doesn’t do anything himself, he pulls everybody down with his constant mood swings (not that Dabi is all sunshine himself but he would say that he enjoys life just a little bit more than this hand freak), and he is over all a pain in the ass. You, on the other hand, don’t piss him off. Your timidity is actually kind of cute. 

Dabi listens up when he hears your mom talk to you. Your window is open and a gentle breeze rustles through the leaves. 

“I met Tara and her boyfriend today while I was shopping and had a lovely chat with them. Her boyfriend seems to be so courteous!” your mother gushes and he can hear your eyes roll at this comment. 

“She told me that she is going to a birthday party tonight and she told me that you were also invited. Why are you not going?” 

You give your mom the side eye, then look back at the book you’re reading while sitting on your bed. 

“I don’t really feel like going. There are so many people I don’t know and I feel like I wouldn’t be any fun to be around.” You truthfully say. “I just don’t wanna ruin everybody’s fun…” you add in a lower tone. Your mom steps closer and stems her hands into her hips like mothers do.  “Well, have you tried having fun? You don’t need to stay there forever but it’d be good for you to at least socialize now and then. You can’t stay in your room forever, you can’t live here forever and you shouldn’t be alone forever! Maybe this would be a good opportunity to find a partner?” Your face turns hot; hot because of embarrassment, shame, sadness, and anger. 

“Please stop bringing this topic up again.” You quietly ask but your mom is not having it. She never does. 

“I’m just saying; all your friends from school are in relationships. I even heard that Carly is already engaged!” 

“I know….”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve loved to congratulate her! I’ve known her since she was a child!”

“Didn’t think it was important…”

“And when will you introduce us to a young man? When will you give us grandkids? Please, go outside and do something. Go on dates and live your life.” 

You are so tired of her speech. You’ve heard it so many times, you already know it by heart. You press your lips together tightly and closer your eyes. Your mother’s eyes keep staring at you, waiting for a response so you press out a “I’ll try” to satisfy her. She sighs, shakes her head and walks away, closing the door behind her. 

The moment you hear the click tears start rolling down your cheeks. You don’t want to cry; you’ve told yourself that you would let your mother’s reproach go in one ear and out the other without thinking too much about it but you can’t just tune out the sadness you feel every time she brings up this topic. It’s exhausting and you wish she’d just leave you alone. 

Dabi honestly didn’t think you’d take it so “well”. He imagined you crying in front of your mom but you kept it well together. You wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your hoodie, take a deep breath and put your book away. Instead, you grab the controller of your Play Station, turn on the TV screen and start playing a game, your back resting against the wall behind your bed. 

His phone vibrates in his pocket. Dabi takes a mental note to get rid of this thing asap. On the screen it reads ‘Get over here now.’

.

.

.

It takes you a whole week to leave your home again and Dabi almost misses it because of Shigaraki. He’s surprised you are not taking the car after last time but maybe you figured how stupid you must’ve looked and that it was all just in your head. Silly you. 

When you reach the store you look at the small piece of paper your mom gave you. Some groceries for dinner, trash bags, soap, and whatever you could possibly need. And, you do, indeed, need something. Before you forget it (because it’s not on the shopping list) you walk to the feminine hygiene section and grab two boxes of tampons, one for you and one for your mom. You know your period will visit you within the next two days and you don’t want to leave your room just because you ran out of tampons. 

You take your time with the rest of the items. The store is not too crowded so you can actually take your time and enjoy being outside. You like grocery shopping. It’s just the people you don’t like. You like looking at new snacks, exotic fruit, weird looking fish, or whatever catches your eye. So, you range from isle to isle, grabbing the items your mom put on the list when you pass them but overall feel quite carefree…

…until you have this feeling again. You feel a tingling on your neck and the small hair stands up, giving you the chills. There it is again – those eyes. Your hands grab the handle of the basket tighter and you close your eyes, taking in a couple deep breaths before you open your eyes again, telling yourself it is just some unbased paranoia. 

Nevertheless, you don’t feel like browsing the aisle anymore and instead grab the remaining things left on the list and hurry to the self-check-out. It doesn’t take long until you’re out of the store and immediately rain starts pouring down on you. You let out a frustrated groan, put your shopping bags down to fumble your small umbrella out of your purse. Of course, it has to start raining right now.

With your umbrella out and open, you grab the bags and make your way across the parking lot, passing other customers who are running for the store to escape the heavy rain. But you just want to get back home. The store didn’t feel safe and right now the open street doesn’t feel safe either. I should’ve taken the goddamn car. You curse yourself but it doesn’t help. 

You thought that this unnerving feeling from before might disappear once you’re back outside but it’s still there. You know someone is watching you. You look around as discreetly as possible but you can’t see anyone suspicious. Just like last time. Maybe there is a villain watching you? You’ve read about maniacs who just kill anyone and everyone for fun. What if you were prey to such a villain? How would you act? Your quirk is not for fighting, let alone fighting a villain! You want to scold yourself for your thoughts but the more you scold yourself, the more prominent the fear becomes in your mind. 

You don’t feel as awkward as last time when you start running regardless; after all, it’s raining right now and people will assume that you just want to get back home to avoid getting too wet. 

Your heart is pounding inside your chest due to your paranoia and the physical exercise but adrenaline keeps you going. You also need to make sure the bags don’t rip open and scatter your groceries all over the ground. 

A quick look down to confirm the stability of the bags has you stop in your tracks. Something is wrong. Something is missing. Tampons. To be more precise your mom’s tampons. 

“Great.” You mumble to yourself. You turn around to see if they dropped somewhere along the way but you can’t see them anywhere near. Fuck it, I’m not going back. You think to yourself and keep running, your lungs are burning and your legs are heavy but you push yourself forward. 

It stops raining as fast as it started and the sun comes back out, the light reflecting on the wet street is almost blinding so you have to squint your eyes. In your head you are mentally preparing for the argument that will indefinitely ensue with your mom over the “forgotten” tampons. She would scold you for buying yourself tampons but not her and you wouldn’t know how to defend yourself. Even if you told her that you must’ve dropped them along the way she would ask you why you didn’t take the car, especially since you knew it would rain sooner or later. 

You turn left and walk across the driveway towards the front door, ready to accept your mother’s “wrath” when something catches your eyes. You stop and blink, thinking you’re hallucinating but you’re not. You take a few steps forward, climb the steps and stop in front of the door, your eyes glued to the small box in front if your door. 

“Tampons.” You mumble confused but feel relieved. No argument, no scolding, no accusations, no-

-no way they got here by themselves. 

You feel sick to your stomach and you think you have to throw up. How did this box of tampons get here before you did? There is only one logical explanation and you don’t dare to even think it. With a pounding heart, you bend down and grab the box (it was surprisingly not wet), not quite accepting the fact that someone must’ve left them here. Someone who knows that they are yours. Someone who knows who you are. Someone who knows where you live. 

.

.

.

Dabi snickers as he watches you hurry inside and close the door. He wasn’t able to see your face upon the realization but your body language spoke volumes. 

His turquoise eyes linger on the front door for a couple more seconds before he slowly makes his way back to the hideout. But he then and there decides that you need some more action in your life. After all, he shouldn’t be the only one to have fun. For today you are safe though.