Just the way you are (Dabi x Reader)

Chapter 3

His voice is raw, his throat strained from keeping his emotions at bay, and your heart breaks at the sound.

           "Why?" you ask, hopeless, his pain your own. "Why--?"

           "The things I've done, t-the things I had to do," he sobs, voice trembling against your skin, and his nails are blunt as they drag across your back. "My... my... fuck!"

           You think you understand what he's trying to tell you; what's been plaguing him so torturously.

           He's mentioned in the passing about where he comes from, very vaguely, and who he was before the League, but it was always so carefully constructed. The truth was there, somewhere, in his words, but only if you looked hard enough, and listened closely. But now... now it's almost as if he can no longer escape it.

           "I-I can't run anymore," he cries, "I'm so tired of running."

           "It's okay," you hush, stroking his hair, feeling the change of his scars and skin when your hand moves to rub his back. "I'm here, it's just me and you... you're safe, and you don't have to run from me..."

           You feel him nod against you, shaking.

           "I-It was hell. Every day was hell," he grits, pulling away so he can look you in the eyes, his cheeks flushed with emotion. "I kept thinking why I existed. Every day, I cried to my brother and told him what happened, w-what he did to me--!"

           "Who?" you ask, cupping his face, his pain mirrored in your eyes. You are afraid of the answer, but you ask anyway. "Who?"

           "My... my father," he grits, spitting, "My fucking father."

           You feel your blood run cold, a sharp pain settling in the pit of your stomach. You hold his face, watching him bare his teeth in anger, before his demeanour breaks, and his face twists in agony at the thought of the man who was, above everything, supposed to love and protect him. The man who was supposed to guide him, and cherish him, and yet chose only to abuse him.

           "I hate him!" he hisses, "I fucking hate him (first name)! I was trying my best... every day. Every day, I was always gritting and fighting as hard as I could to become the number 1 – just like he wanted, but I was a fucking kid--!"

           He is interrupted by his own sharp, racking inhale, before he breaks down once more.

           "He wouldn't let me rest – h-he never let me rest – a-and my skin was burning, and it hurt so badly! I just wanted to make him happy, but nothing I ever did was good enough for him--"

           He wails, crying out, but cuts himself off with a harsh growl and gritted teeth, unwilling to allow himself to fully succumb to his pain and sadness.

           "I'm... I'm--!"

           He stills suddenly, becoming quiet. His breathing slows, and he dips his head, bowing so you cannot see his face. You whisper his name, hands moving to the sides of his face, cheeks still damn as you bring his head up, his eyes look so tired – like he wants nothing more than to just sleep for a very long time. He sighs softly, and you think it's probably the saddest noise you've ever heard.

           "I'm so scared I'm going to become just like him."

           Your breath catches on an inhale, and you are heartbroken for him. There is a deep urge within the depths of your soul to do anything and everything you can to ease his suffering. And so, slowly, softly, overwhelmed by your love for him, your inch close, closer still, until your lips meet.

           He exhales shakily through his nose, eyes sliding closed at the sensation of your lips against his. You pull away, but linger close to him, still smelling the scent of your shampoo in his damp hair.

           "The mirrors in your mind can reflect the best of yourself," you murmur against his lips, "not the worst of someone else. You are enough – just as you are. You are yourself, and you are so deeply loved."

           You feel him offer a shaky smile at your words, his hands holding you tightly, thumbs caressing your skin, and you smile back, lips meeting once again.

           The kiss is soft, open mouthed, and your tongue finds his, pressing up against his lips, darting in and swirling. It's so intimate, the way he holds you, so close, so tightly, and you can almost feel his chest swell with love. He's smiling into the kiss, and you are relived that, for at least this moment you are sharing with him, he seems to be consoled. His hands slide down to your hips, and he delves deeper, moulding his lips to yours, nipping at your neck when he pulls apart to catch his breath, before claiming your mouth again. Your hands slide through his hair, combing with your fingers, before they settle to the base of his neck.

           You feel him growing hard against you, and his hands grasp at you with more desperation. You pull away, palms moving to anchor on his chest, a trail of saliva connecting your lips, and when he realizes he's panting, and that his eyes are glazed over, he becomes embarrassed.

           "A-ah..." he mutters, avoiding your gaze, but his face is not without color. "S-sorry... I didn't mean to get--"

           You cut him off, swiping your tongue against the corner of his mouth, licking his lips, your hips grinding softly against him. He tilts his head back at the sensation, but he looks a little apprehensive... almost unsure. Totally unlike how you've ever seen him before.