Bi Brat Baby

27 • Sex and cuddles and some education thrown in • Always looking for new blogs to follow

[gaybybirth]

four goals and a night of risks

OnlyFans!Dabi x Inexperienced!fem!Reader (NSFW)

Synopsis: In an attempt to finally break through your own nervous barriers, you decide to spend Halloween taking some risks with the help of your best friend and her friend group. But things...don't exactly go as planned. But you don't want the night to be ruined by any of it, and neither does a particular someone. The particular someone who doesn't know you've found the site he uses to make a little extra cash.

A slow-burn story for as slow-burn as one can get with 30k words.

Warnings: nsfw/18+ content; inexperienced, insecure, and naive reader, some descriptions of anxiety/nerves/insecurities, slight Reader x OC, loads of flirting and dirty talk and teasing, humiliation/secondhand embarrassment, dabi calls reader "sunshine" a lot, descriptions of what dabi posts on his site, a dash of forbidden romance (sorta), thigh riding, nipple play, clit play, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, semi-public sex (empty stairwell), & dabi cums on the reader.

Word Count: 30.7k

A/N: Kinktober continues on this blog just a little bit longer. Can't stop me. Anyway, I know this is similar to pretty white dress and fire, but it's about the vibes. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story :) I hope you like it!!!

How you managed to let Rhaya talk you into this, you had no idea. Dressing up for Halloween was normal. You did it every year. You did it for every party, every event, anything you were dragged along to for the month. But you’d never worn anything like this. Not ever.

Staring at your reflection, the sparkly, pale pink combination stared back at you. A fake corset with a zipper down the side, a tiny white, pink, and purple tulle skirt that hardly covered your lap. White fishnets stretching over your legs and pale pink heels prop you up a few inches. Rhaya had done your makeup slightly more than what you normally did–an added line of sharp liner, a little bit of glittery eyeshadow, a swipe of highlighter across your cheekbones, and a dollop of sparkly lip gloss that tasted like strawberry. 

“You look fucking hot,” she said as she adjusted the fairy wings on your back. “Own it.”

“Think you’re talking about yourself, Rhaya,” you murmured.

She was dressed head to toe in some form of black. A black latex bodysuit, fishnets, shorts, cat ears, and a tail. Her long purple and black hair was pulled back with large, wavy curls. Curtain bangs she was always shoving out of her face while she worked were side-swept out of her face. Black chunky-heeled boots hit the floor as she walked toward you, both hands going on your shoulders. 

“Trust me. You look fucking insane. In a good way.” Her smile was killer as her green eyes flicked to yours in the mirror. “You’ll have so much fun tonight. I promise.”

You took a deep breath and did one more look over yourself. Skin you never showed before was out; how long would it take to not be conscious of your chest being so exposed? How long would it take to stop worrying about the fact that if you bent over, everyone would see the white underwear Rhaya called bottoms underneath it? How long until–

“We’re already running late as it is.” Rhaya laced her hand through yours. “Come on, hot shot. You’re gonna knock ‘em dead!”

You got one last look at yourself in the mirror as Rhaya dragged you out of your room. With every opportunity to back out, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything or turn back as she hoisted you into her car. Cause, really, you did look good. You just…had to get used to it.

Even if that might take a little bit.

It was a fair-style event, sort of. A large expanse out in the part of town your parents would’ve chastised you for going to, there was a whole street's worth of activities. Down the historic main street, bars were open, cigar lounges threw their doors open, an old movie theater with only two working rooms was screening back-to-back horror movies, and the park held a haunted maze. One that Rhaya swore the workers got their rocks off by actually terrifying people. 

She did it every year, and every year, she came home sleeping with the lights on for the next few nights. 

This was the first year she’d gotten you to go.

Well, to the street party. You weren’t sure you’d do that maze. Not in the heels, and not when you were still getting used to the costume. And you were going to be in this costume around her friends. Some were your friends at this point, but others you still felt way too intimidated by to talk to. 

Like Dabi. You could barely be in the same room as him without feeling like you were going to break into a million little pieces. Mostly, it was when he looked at you. He just had an air about him that brought people to their knees. And not in a begging-for-their-life kind of way.

Although, you could imagine they might be begging for something else.

He was Rhaya's oldest friend, the one you saw the most, and yet the one you knew the least about. He kept to himself more than you did. And that was just cause you were too embarrassed to talk about anything with them. With Dabi, though, even when he talked directly to you, it was hard to find the right words to answer with. Most of the time, you stumbled over them, maybe stuttered a bit. He always kept the same smile, but you couldn't tell if he was amused at your clear nervousness while trying to talk or if he was just pitying you.

Rhaya just always told you to ignore the guy.

But it was really hard to ignore Dabi. And it was going to be even harder to do that tonight. You had a feeling he wasn’t going to be dressed in anything modest. 

"Okay." Rhaya took your hand again after she parked in the last parking spot behind a bar at the end of the street. "At any point you want to leave, tell me. This is about you getting out of your comfort zone. Okay?" 

"I'm a big girl, Rhaya," you said with a shaky voice. 

You laughed at Rhaya’s deadpan expression. 

“I’ll be fine. I promise. But thank you. I’m already getting used to the costume,” you lied. “Let’s just go meet everyone. I could use a drink.”

Rhaya gave you a side-eye that she’d perfected long before you two met. When you nervously walked into her friend’s shop asking to get your ears pierced, she gave you the same look. In her defense, you came in wearing a pink sundress, wedge sandals, a modest white sweater over top, and a pearl necklace. She was wrapping up the tattoo she’d just finished when she asked you if you’d walked into the wrong place. 

You answered with a shaky voice, "Nope. I need some changes. This looked like the right place."

That was three years ago. And Rhaya was riding the win hard that she’d gotten you in the costume. Even through all of the concern, you could see it. She kept fighting grins as she glanced over at you the whole walk to the bar. She’d finally gotten you out of the onesies and the shawls and turtlenecks and oversized sweaters. 

Per your request, of course, but still.

“This one’s modest, trust me.”

You hadn't believed her until you entered the bar. All along the street, every place was full. Crowded. But when you stepped inside, you actually got to see the costumes. People in nothing but speedos, small swim trunks, lingerie. They looked incredible; it really did just make your costume feel modest. Even when you could feel the cool breeze slide up beneath your skirt as you walked. Even when you could feel the cheeky set of underwear feel smaller and smaller with every step. 

She’d offered you some purple spandex to wear underneath, but you were challenging yourself. Not a thong–like Rhaya said she normally wore with costumes like that–and not shorts. So, a middle ground. Normal underwear. Underwear that felt really thin as you maneuvered through the crowd. 

And it felt even more skimpy when you found her friend group at a round booth in the back corner. The windows near it were open, a few cigarettes in hands, and costumes galore. You looked at all the ones that were there–a devil, fireman, doctor, a sexy clown, Rocky from Rocky Horror Picture Show. Except you couldn’t help but focus on the person Rhaya was sliding you in next to. You heard the whole group’s reaction to your costume–a few woahs and holy shits. Wide eyes followed you as you sat down. 

But you were hyper-aware of Dabi sitting back in the booth, eyes on you before you even got to the table. He was dressed in a similar monochromatic black color scheme as Rhaya. Except he was more akin to a vampire than a cat. Or maybe a vampire's victim.

His long-sleeved black shirt was completely open in the front. It exposed to fake vampire bites–one on his collarbone and the other on his ribs. That one was only visible when you slid into the booth, and he raised one arm, draping it over the back of the booth behind you. But you were trying to say thank you to everyone's compliments instead of paying attention to that. 

Or how tight his ripped black jeans were down his legs, fake blood splattered against them. Thick boots donned his feet as he shifted, and you felt the side of you touch your heels. As did his thigh against yours. 

“I’m gonna go get us drinks,” Rhaya murmured, not even sitting down all the way in the booth. Now, typically, you would’ve been fine being left alone with her friends. They talked with you even when you were quiet. You were far more open than you were when you first met, but still quiet. 

Except you weren't just alone with her friends. You were seated right next to Dabi, whose arm you could freaking feel weighing the top of the booth down behind you. 

“Wow,” he murmured behind his glass. His pristine blue eyes flicked over to you as you settled into your spot, eyes following Rhaya as she left. It was impossible to ignore how the one word went right to your heart. Amongst other places that made you feel the familiar sense of something else. “Gonna be drawing a lot of eyes tonight, sunshine.”

Sunshine. That stupid nickname. Since day one–when you showed up at Rhaya’s first house with them to make them breakfast after a long night out. Dabi had been there, and the first time you met him was when he stumbled downstairs in nothing but some gray sweatpants, and he leaned against the counter as you handed him some eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee. You almost fumbled all of it. It was a miracle you didn’t. 

You did drop the spatula when he walked past you, tired eyes joined with a wide smile, and leaned in. 

"Thanks, sunshine. Appreciate it."

You were done for then and there. You did the same not-so-subtle–or not as subtle as you wanted it to be–glance over his bare chest then as you did now. The lean muscle toned and bare, the tattoos littered across different sections of his arms and ribs, the pierced nipples, nose, ears. The small dark line of hair disappearing into the sweats. 

Felt funny back then. Felt funny now.

“Thanks…I think.” You finally answered him, scratching your jaw and laughing softly. “I just wanted to take a step out of my comfort zone. That’s all.”

Dabi tapped his cigarette into the ashtray in the middle of the table. Him leaning forward brought his arm down and closer to you. It also brought him closer to you. Really close. Close enough to feel bare skin against bare skin. 

Your heart skipped in your chest. 

“Well, you look damn good.” He leaned back and lolled his head your way. “Guarantee someone’s already wanting to pick that costume off with their teeth.” 

His eyes flicked down over you once more just as Rhaya sat down with two mixed drinks. No idea what they were, but you picked yours up and immediately took a swig. Rhaya laughed, warning you to take it slowly. But you needed something cold to douse the fire already lit inside your stomach. It threatened to travel lower, and that was too dangerous to deal with when you were practically walking around in your underwear. Sure, if you had a longer skirt on, you'd deal with the consequences of your body's reaction to Dabi. But this was too fast and too intense of a fluttering feeling in your stomach to deal with all night. 

Last thing you needed was to bend over and have it be noticeable. 

“Sorry,” you muttered behind the glass, pointedly taking a smaller sip. But when Dabi chuckled beside you, you yearned to down the whole glass.

See, you didn't like to lie. But you did. You lied about one massive secret you weren't supposed to know. Rhaya didn't know you knew it. Nobody at the table knew you knew it. It was never brought up, so technically, you were in the clear of anyone finding out, but it was still a lie of omission. And it weighed on you every time you hung out with Dabi.

But not just because you were lying about knowing. Because you knew the secret.

You knew one thing about Dabi.

Pornography was not something you had clogging up your search history. At all. Rhaya knew it, which was probably why she never worried about you finding out. You’d always felt too awkward watching it. It’d been something entirely off-limits in your house growing up. Anything sexual had been. 

However, when you accidentally heard the site brought up in a phone call you weren't supposed to hear–Rhaya thought you were dead asleep–you might’ve experimented with looking. It was a rabbit hole that made the tips of your ears and all the way down to your toes burn. Personal pages with different people, different tastes, different everything. You clicked from one page to the next, the blue banner taunting you with every swipe, never going past the pictures that were shown for free–those weren't all that explicit. But then you got so far down the rabbit hole that, suddenly, you recognized a familiar set of tattoos. 

It was just a picture of him sprawled out in bed, the sheet so low you could see where that line of hair went. An obvious bulge beneath the gray sheets. One leg out, the other beneath, arms back behind his head that was cropped out. But you knew. You'd accidentally seared that first meeting into your memory–you knew those tattoos, and you knew the rest of him. Even if most was newly bare to you.

And it was the guiltiest thing you’d ever done. Shame threw itself through you every time you thought about it, but you paid for it. A monthly subscription so you could see everything. And you saw…everything. 

You didn't always click on the posts, not sure if you'd be able to survive looking at Dabi the next time you saw him. But you saw a lot still. Him naked, for one. Him sprawled on his bed, hand around his cock. Sometimes, he'd let a crooked smirk sneak into the pictures when he did that. Other times, he purposefully did it so you could watch how his mouth formed fuck during videos as he touched himself. 

You never had the bravery to go past those. Watching him touch himself already felt like an invasion of privacy. Didn't matter if he was videotaping it himself for the site. You couldn't watch the others. Like the collaborations. Or the ones with toys. You scrolled past them quickly, only seeing quick flashes. Like Dabi between the legs of a woman, the back of his head was all that was visible of him while her back arched, and she had a vice grip on his hair, holding him there. Or as he brought a toy down over his cock as he leaned back against a wall, pumping it over himself. 

There were a few more pictures that were considered safe for work, given he was still in boxers, but he was tied up every which way with different types of rope. Those were also permanently stuck in your head. 

Apparently, he live-streamed too. But you'd never been brave enough to watch those. Not…fully. You might’ve accidentally clicked on one, not knowing what it was. And you found him kneeling on a bed, slowly pumping his cock, as the chat egged him on to go slower. Donations appeared for him to do certain things. Some asked for him to do certain things directly to them. But he just chuckled–another dead giveaway that it was him–and said he could only fuck himself right now. And he needed them to guide him.

You clicked off when someone told him to get something called a cockring out. 

Normally, you would’ve just mentioned it to Rhaya. Just as a passing hey, totally didn’t mean to find this, but I did. Nothing more, nothing less. An attempt to not make a big deal out of nothing. Except it wasn’t…nothing. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything because not only did you not want Dabi to know you’d found and watched his stuff, but how it made you feel.

You only did it one time. One time. And you still felt awful about it. 

It was one thing to be subscribed to his site; it was another thing entirely to lose your cool after weeks of maintaining it and touching yourself to it. It was another video of him touching himself, except he was talking along to it. Telling the watcher what to do. When to go faster, when to go slower. When to stop, when to start. When you were allowed to cum. Never, not once, had you ever experienced that. 

You’d barely experimented with your own body at that point to know what made you feel that good. And that? That made you feel incredible. Rolling over and gasping into your pillow so Rhaya didn’t hear through the thin walls. 

It was beyond any kind of embarrassment you’d ever felt as you stared up at your ceiling, panting, underwear ruined. You unsubbed from it that night, but you still felt guilty. And even worse? You missed how watching the video made you feel.

Hence, why you were having an exceptional amount of trouble sitting next to Dabi while acting like his picking it off with their teeth comment was just a silly little thing he said. You swirled the red drink in the martini glass, thankful for the effects of the liquor already settling in, and tried not to think about the site. Or him. Or the fact that he was practically pressed up against you.

“Clark Kent, ten o’clock,” Rhaya whispered beside you. 

Oh, yeah. It also wasn't helping that another step you'd talked with Rhaya about taking was flirting with a stranger. Your only other significant other in the past had been one guy whom you'd been chaste with until the end of your relationship. You had awkward sex twice, and then you both decided to end things after that. That was it. 

So Rhaya was playing wingwoman for you tonight. Except, no matter how cute Clark Kent at ten o’clock was–and he was–it was hard to take notice when Dabi shifted beside you, his arm coming down a little more to practically rest on your shoulders. 

“She can do better than that, Rhaya,” Dabi mused beside you, his eyes following hers over to the stranger. The tall, broad-shouldered, muscular, attractive stranger that was way out of your league. 

“It’s about practice, dumbass,” she shot back. “She wants to practice putting herself out there. Who better than some strangers here?”

“Maybe,” you interjected, voice strained. “I might try it. Flirting is, uh, not exactly in my repertoire.” 

And flirting with strangers? Definitely not. It wasn’t inherently about who made the first move. It was having the bravery and confidence to go up to them and try. You stumbled through words so often, odds were that you'd do the same then. When it mattered. And then what would you do? Make a massive fool of yourself in front of the person you wanted to not do that with.

But hey! If there was living proof that they'd still talk to you, Dabi was at least a good example of that. 

“It won’t be if you don’t put it there,” Rhaya murmured with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “But your speed.” She raised her glass and tapped it against yours. “Let’s set four goals for tonight, yeah?”

“Four?” 

“Mhm.” She nodded, giving you a devilish grin. “First one’s down. You’re out in a costume you wouldn’t normally wear. Goal reached. Second one, if you’re interested, flirting with a few strangers. Third, maybe seeing where that leads.” She gave you a quick wink while leaning closer. “Nothing is more encouraging than ending the night making out with some hot stranger in a sexy costume.”

Nerves flickered and danced as you felt Dabi’s arm shift behind you.

“And the fourth of the impossible?” 

"The haunted maze. Maybe you'll find a hot date out here tonight. Taking them into the maze…get your adrenaline pumping, holding onto each other, hearts racing…." Rhaya took a long sip of her drink. "It's terrifying, but the fun after is so worth it.”

You elected not to bring up her coming home alone last year. That didn’t mean much when Rhaya–or most of the friend group–was involved. They had the bravery to…have fun…anywhere. You still felt nervous touching yourself in your room back at the apartment. Even with a lock on the door and knowing Rhaya wasn’t home, the anxiety danced around in your gut. 

“But don’t look at them as like…actual goals to meet. They're kind of like a list that is just there for you to dip your toe in the water." She reached up and hooked a finger around the stem of your mostly empty glass. "Like this. Unwinding with a drink with some friends instead of being my designated driver. There's no consequence if you're not interested in doing it, but if you do partake and like it, well, thinking of it as some sort of goal will give a little extra validation."

You glanced back over at the Clark Kent partway across the room. He was practically the spitting image of the character. Down to the chiseled features softened with rustled hair and black-framed glasses. His white shirt was open to expose just a little bit to show some blue underneath, and when your eyes went back up over the open button, there was a flirty smile waiting for you. Brown eyes peering your way from behind his beer. 

Oh, jeeze.

“I need another drink,” you muttered.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew they were a mistake. Rhaya already had a devious look halfway on her face when she straightened. 

“Then let’s get you one.”

Okay, in Rhaya’s defense, she hadn’t intended for you to end up talking to Clark Kent. She even told you her intentions when you slid out of the booth and made your way to the crowded bar. First, she wanted to make sure you weren't getting too drunk too fast. So you got a mixed drink that was more mix than alcohol. Second, she wanted you to try flirting from a distance. Flirty stares, a little smile, a wave, angling your body just the right way to show Mr. Kent how good you looked in your costume.

"This is ridiculous," you whispered to her as she tried to show you what she meant. 

“Just trust me.”

You did. And what did it get you? Clark Kent at the bar, one arm leaning against it, right beside you, giving you a flirty grin, asking how you were doing. He came over shortly after you’d started on your drink, and as he reached over and pinched the tulle of the skirt between his finger and thumb, you wished there was more alcohol in your system. Your words twisted into knots in your mouth every time he waited for a response. Your answers were short, helping your cause, but you still weren’t sure how to get the tone right.

Flirty just wasn’t in your arsenal when you couldn’t wrap your hands around the confidence to execute it. 

You weren't trying to be aware of the time; you really weren't. You weren't trying to be aware of anything else except Clark Kent and trying to match his obvious flirting. Rhaya was proud and beaming beside you while his friend chatted her up. But every minute that ticked by on the clock behind the bar, you were aware of. Of how everything in the room seemed a little too fast and a little too slow. 

“Can I buy you another drink?” he asked, hand falling to your arm. The warm spread of his fingers across you made you jump, and the sudden lack of space became all too apparent. He was already waving the bartender down, who was two people away working on other drinks first. But a little, teeny tiny switch was flipped in the back of your head.

The air felt stale. The music was too loud, and the chatter around you was incessant and fading into the music. Clark-Kent-wannabe smiled at you with a flirty grin that held many unsaid truths. Handsome, but you couldn’t keep up with the stranger. 

“Um,” you murmured, taking a deep breath. Rhaya’s laugh was flirty behind you as Clark Kent’s Lois Lane leaned in to whisper in Rhaya’s ear. “I actually…I’ll be right back.”

Rhaya started to say your name as you stepped away, but…but there was concern on her face. She looked like she was genuinely enjoying talking to the Lois, and if she came after you, her odds were slimmer. So you plastered on the most convincing smile you could, hoped to the heavens that it passed, and just waved.

“Just need to use the bathroom, Rhaya. I’ll just be a sec.” 

And, bless her, she didn’t believe you. You could see it on her face. But as much as she didn’t believe you, she also trusted you. So she let you go. Let you trot off to find the bathrooms through the sea of people, stumble inside the small room, and stare at yourself in the mirror.

In the silly costume. With a frazzled expression. With cleavage that was stupidly accentuated with every quick breath you took. The graffitied walls of the bathroom fell into place around you like a crooked frame. Every word you wanted to say to the Clark Kent was trapped in the glass. Your fists banged on the glass to let them out, to sort them out. To have the skill to put them together with a confident flow. 

And yet?

You just dropped your hands to the edge of the ceramic sink and hung your head. 

“You’re a fool,” you murmured to the empty room. Surprisingly empty. “You can do this.” You tried the words, but they felt false on your tongue. “You can.”

But as you stared at your reflection–a silly feeling crawling across your spine and spreading out along the wings of your shoulders–you just…sighed. Fixed your makeup, dabbed on a bit more of the lip gloss, and adjusted your feet within your heels. The skirt was tugged down. Or, at least, you attempted to do as much. But it only moved half an inch. 

You spun. Tried to look at yourself as the Clark Kent did. As Rhaya and the rest of her friends did. 

But you still just felt…silly. 

A little tipsy, still, too. But silly nonetheless. 

You pushed your shoulders back and tipped your chin up. The skirt wasn't going to get any longer. The corset wasn't going to magically crawl over your chest and cover what it wasn't. The heels would stay awkward, and the tights would stretch across your skin. And? You'd make do. You'd do it. You'd work through it. You'd get through it. 

The door opened with a wave of air rushing into you as you threw it open. Riding a wave crashing with tipsy, forced-confidence adrenaline and false determination, you stepped out into the hallway. 

The clack of your heel echoed against the wood and…

You stopped one step out, the door closing with a click behind you. 

You still had no idea how you were supposed to talk to the Clark Kent out there. Or what you were even supposed to respond with to his light little touches or his whispered little teases. You could barely process everything going on in your body when you looked at a handsome person. But interacting with one?

It was like your body…well….

The other door opened beside you, and a familiar collection of all-black strutted out. Lazy, uncaring steps as the door shut behind him. A wet paper towel dropped into the trash can beside his door. A casual glance up and toward you, that black hair falling in front of his eyes and cascading a collection of sharp shadows over his face.

“Good there, sunshine?”

He reached up and fixed a little ribbon coming off the end of your tulle skirt. 

Electrified. That’s what your body was like. As Dabi’s fingers fixed the little ribbon–you felt both frozen stiff and utterly electric. 

“Uh, yeah.” You nodded, eyes down on his boots. “I’m good.”

Dabi didn’t return your nod. In fact, he didn’t say much at all. He hummed–low beneath the sounds of the music and chatter–and kept his eyes pinned on you. They glided across your face, down where your chest grew tight inside the costume, over the skirt and the ribbon he’d fixed. The fishnets shifted across your legs as you shifted your weight around the heels, the slow drag of his eyes back up to yours reaching across and turning up the dial on the air conditioning. The heat pumping through you must’ve come from the vent above your head. 

It was the better explanation to accept. 

But not the truth.

“Rhaya threw you in there without giving you anything to go on.” Wasn’t a question, but you found yourself nodding. Reluctantly. 

Dabi was not on the list of people you felt comfortable talking about flirting with. But he was a considerably special case there. Secretly seeing the man’s NSFW site locked him in his slot there. Hence why you kept your eyes from going lower than his chest. Or stomach where the shirt hung perfectly open. No lower than that.

"Hands-on training or something." That was what Rhaya joked about a little while back. She never elaborated, but you got the joke well enough to roll your eyes. It felt weird repeating back to Dabi. "I just needed a breath."

There's a pause between you. The space wasn't much, but it was enough to make the pause carry through a few breaths. Where Dabi's eyes trailed over you once more as the heat pumped without mercy above you. Just a look–that was all it took. A lingering look in a hallway that luck had made empty and music that had ended into a playlist change. The quiet was filled with chatter by your next blink, but neither of you said anything. 

Your eyes fell across what bare section you could see of his chest, and the rest folded away like falling ribbons. Replaced by what you shouldn’t have seen. What you had to pretend you hadn’t. The soft redness to his cheeks as his chest moved with every deep breath. The whispered words calling out to the watchers–to you–to go slower. With him. Move a little slower, a little lighter. Then faster. Harder. Get yourself as close as you could to the edge and then closer. Until you started to shake, and every thought you had was about needing to cum. Was about cumming with him. Was about feeling his fingers inside you, his hands touching you, his tongue. The feel of–as he stated–his cock pressing inside you as he fucked you until he was all you knew.

Your entire body burned at the thought.

At the memory you tried to forget.

Dabi's mouth kicked into a smirk. There wasn't a way in the world for him to know what you were thinking about. The momentary lapse in thoughts was just a few seconds long, and Dabi wasn't a mind reader. You two were just standing across from each other in the hallway, a pause in the conversation drawing to its end–you hoped. He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. All you were doing was simply standing there, looking at him.

And yet? Soft, incessant wings fluttered hard in your stomach when he licked the corner of his mouth and fixed the end of his sleeve. 

“Don’t worry about Superman out there,” he said finally. The pause broken. But at what cost?

“What?” 

You laughed softly, confusion crawling through your words. Dabi's smirk remained. In fact, you were fairly certain it'd just gotten worse. Better. He looked good with that kind of smirk. The same one that formed words you could hear in the whisper out of your phone's speaker. 

"A guy like that…" Dabi glanced back down the hallway. Out at the bar, out where Rhaya and the two strangers were surely waiting for you. "He'll be real nice with everything. Real sweet.”

The word left him as if it seared his tongue. A low laugh joined it. As did his eyes return to yours. 

“Real perfect for practice.”

You blinked at him. His hands slid into his pockets; his head lolled back a little. Those sharp eyes watched as if you were prey lurking around a predator's den. Taking risks you knew you weren't taking simply by standing there. But roads were converging the longer you took to go back out in the bar. They were carved into the Earth the longer you engaged with Dabi, testing the strings of fate. 

It took thirty seconds to find the words without the additional stuttering and hesitation it would take to go through them. And even still, you struggled to say it through the confusion.

“That’s what he’s for. Practice. To, um, kind of take a step outside of my normal boundaries.”

Dabi’s smirk remained. “He’s safe.”

Again, you blinked. Brows furrowed as Dabi moved not a step closer but a step further away. One hand shoved some fallen hair out of his eyes, and you got to see the curve that was all of him as he turned his back to you. 

“No risks in playing it safe. If tonight’s about breaking boundaries,” he said, giving you one last glance over his shoulder, “then take some fucking risks, sunshine.”

You got to stare at his back while he walked away. Every swaying step carrying him down the hallway with a practiced suave to his gait. The crowd swallowed him, a few heads turning to glance at his costume, before he vanished into the sea of strangers.

Risks?

You stared at the spot he’d once been in. You were taking risks. You were talking to a stranger. Flirting with them. Or, at least, trying to flirt with them. Were those not risks in Dabi’s book? Or maybe they were once upon a time. Considering the risk you’d seen him take, maybe he was right. These weren’t things he’d consider even remotely risky.

But they were to you. 

A deep breath passed through your lungs.

What kind of risks did he expect you to take?

Going back out to the bar, you found a drink being poured for you. Alcoholic. Fruity. Strong, but not too strong. Costume Clark Kent gave you a nice smile when you came up beside him, and in a moment of thinking about risks and consequences, you put your hand on his arm. Your hand trembled a bit as you squeezed the hard muscle beneath it, and you tried earnestly to match his flirty grin.

You must've been successful, given his reaction. A lean in with his hand skating down the length of your back as he whispered in your ear. 

“This is what your friend said you’d liked.” 

And without needing to take a look back at Dabi, you reached for the drink still in front of the bartender. The sweet mixture fell across your tongue in a blanket of disguised liquor. Alright. You swallowed it with a wince at the growing bitterness over your tastebuds. Were you supposed to bat your lashes? That was a flirting technique, wasn't it? You batted your lashes at the Clark Kent and let yourself press against him as much as you could muster. Just a hand on his arm, then a smile at him. You swirled the drink while licking the concoction–and the strawberry lip gloss–from your lips. 

Dabi talked about risks–maybe you could try to take a few more.

But just a few.

Clark Kent tasted like beer. Bitter, cheap beer. A little bit like tobacco, too. 

It was just a quick kiss. An attempt. Flirting and a finished drink turned to standing closer. Hands stayed touching each other in some ways, and Rhaya kept giving you a thumbs-up before she was locking lips with her newfound date. They were practically pinned against the bar, lips parting each other's, a few wandering eyes looking over with interested expressions. 

The Clark Kent tried to go for the same. If that's what your friend was there for, then clearly, you were interested in something along the same vein. Except you were barely processing how he stood with one hand on your lower back. And how he occasionally fixed parts of your costume. Like the wings or your skirt or the ribbons on the fake lace of your corset. He was just standing so close, and he touched you how you hadn't been touched in…a long time. 

And then he gave you very little warning before his mouth was on yours. It wasn’t…bad.

However, as you stepped back away from the bar, the crowd getting closer even from just the small step, it just didn't feel right. A spark wasn't the right description. There was a lack of one. But it just felt sloppy. Off-kilter. Like you turned up a pair of cards that didn't match, but the details were almost there. Not quite–but almost. 

And while Rhaya lost herself in her fun, you weren’t nearly drunk enough to pretend you could do this. He barely touched your tongue with his when your defenses kicked in. Far as handsome as he was, there was no getting past the taste of stale beer and the crowd closing in on you behind you. 

Staggering back, you felt much like a floundering fish. Out of water. And rather than gasping for air, you were trying to find the right excuse. The right apology. How exactly did one say he tasted like the whole bar smelled? How exactly did one say that nicely?

A pang of guilt joined a twist of anxiety within the drunkness in your stomach. 

“S-Sorry,” you managed. A stutter. An obvious stutter that only worsened the more you tried to come up with an excuse. “I didn’t…I mean…”

The costume felt too small when he looked at you, a little confused, a little tipsy, a little hurt. But…. But what? You wanted to want to kiss him. He was handsome and flirty and sweet enough. He'd even mentioned how he went shopping at the local farmer's market with his grandmother on the weekends. That was sweet. But the pieces to the puzzle you were trying to complete weren’t fitting correctly. And he really just tasted so gross. 

“Sorry,” you sputtered again. Please. You ransacked your brain for the correct response. But what else were you supposed to say? 

With nothing loaded in the chamber, you did what you probably shouldn’t have. You ignored Rhaya just a few feet away, heavily invested in her new partner. Gave the Clark Kent an apologetic smile. Felt the sudden wave of panic throw itself through you as it mixed with the mysterious liquor, and decided to get some fresh air. Without saying anything to anyone.

The sooner you got outside, the sooner you could collect your thoughts, the sooner you could get the taste of stale beer out of your mouth. 

Rhaya stayed behind–you guessed–as you stepped back. Then back again. Through the crowd of costumes, over the sticky floor, past the loud speakers, and out onto the crowded street. Her voice never joined the noise, but she was fairly entranced by the Lois Lane there. And prying her away from them wouldn’t do much except ruin her fun. 

The outside of the bar found your back as you pivoted from the entrance. An onslaught of different costumes flashed by you in a rainbow of colors, but you just focused on how cold the window was against your back. How even outside, through the collection of smoke and spilled liquor and steamy foods, you got to breathe. A nice deep breath that kept the bar behind you. Even if it made the corset tighten around your inhale, and a gust of wind made your skirt feel even shorter than it was. 

Or maybe you were just deluding yourself, and it was that short. 

You dropped your head back and sighed. 

“What am I doing?” you mumbled. 

It was one thing to attempt a new, sexy costume for Halloween. It was another to have a few drinks and dip your toes in the water. But it was a whole different notion to make out with a complete stranger, half-drunk, because…because why? He was handsome? You were challenging yourself? Because…

A hand fell to your shoulder, and you jumped, finding Rhaya with two of her other friends. Vera and Dabi. But you weren't looking at anyone except the man in the vampire costume. 

“Take some fucking risks, sunshine.”

Way to let Dabi get into your head. And based on his sly little smirk hidden behind Rhaya's shoulder, he knew he'd gotten into it. With ease. No key was needed to the locked door–it opened under his touch. He didn't even need to coax himself in there. He just slid on his with ease, his words catching in a net beside your list of goals for the night.

  Dang it. You tried a playful smile to draw attention away from your clear, panicked reaction. Rhaya knew better. Vera was just enjoying their cigarette. Dabi…

He eyed you with smug curiosity that made your cheeks burn.

“Let’s get some food,” Rhaya said, finally, a hand going to your shoulder. “Sober you up.”

Yeah. Sober. 

There was a stand off the main stretch of the street. Saying people crowded around it would’ve been a description for the entire street. A funnel cake sat in front of you as you saved a table far from the stand. Separate orders made for awkward variances in the time, so you just sat and waited. A cup of water beside the funnel cake, you picked at it idly. Rhaya was still waiting on her corndog. Vera was walking back with a pretzel and a hot dog in their hands. 

Dabi, however, was making the whole table jolt as he sat down beside you, a cup of coffee steaming in his hands. 

But he didn’t speak. He just sat with his back to the picnic table, elbows resting on top of it, chin tipped up so he could throw his eyes at the sky. The cloudless, starry sky. 

“What the hell happened back there?” Vera’s voice cut through as they sank down to the bench. “Rhaya said you were taking it slow tonight. I mean, nothing wrong with jumping head first into the waters–that’s what I did–but don’t do it when you’re not ready.”

A sting of guilt hit your stomach as you swallowed a bite of funnel cake.

Vera was right, but hearing that you weren’t ready still stung.

“I just…” You poked at the fried dough, rubbing the powdered sugar off of your fingers and watching it fall back to the plate. Dabi’s elbow was right beside your hand when it went down to the wood, and you could feel his eyes fall over you while you searched for the right words. “I, um. I just wanted to take a risk.”

There was a smirk in your peripherals that you elected not to look at. 

“Doesn’t mean you gotta rush into it,” Vera said after swallowing their bite. 

"Risks are fun," Dabi cooed beside you. He didn't look back, though. Not at Vera. 

He did look at you, though.

“And isn’t tonight about having some fun, sunshine?” 

A fire burned hotter than coals in your stomach the longer the blue flames of his eyes stayed glued on you. A smirk grew at the corners of his mouth that he barely hid behind a sip of coffee, and suddenly, you were all too aware of everything around you. Not the people. Not the food. Not the music. But your costume, your breathing, your small shift under his lingering stare. Of how his long fingers wrapped around the cup of coffee and how the others reached out and grazed your forearm. Brushed off a dust of powdered sugar blowing in the breeze. Just a little swipe of his fingers–bare skin to bare skin. 

All of a sudden, by the beginning of your next breath, your clothing felt all too tight.

“It…is,” you murmured, unable to look away.

"Then," he said as the whole table jerked. The plastic clunking of a cup fell to the table. The voices sounded far away as you watched Dabi's mouth form the words. Every single one made your heart beat a little faster. "Have a little bit of fun." 

Rhaya’s voice cut through as Dabi’s lowered, but you heard his first. 

“If you need a guide, just ask.”

Then, through the burning sensation shooting through your veins, you heard Rhaya. 

“We’ll take it slow,” Rhaya interjected. “Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it.”

An obvious hickey poked out on Rhaya's neck. Her costume was a little off-kilter, too. Hair slightly messy, makeup touched up in the pocket mirror in her black bag. Her smile was genuine when you glanced up, but there was no denying the fact that she was babysitting you for the night. 

A twisting knot formed in your stomach. 

Maybe you should’ve stayed home to spare everyone this trouble. 

Because what did you want to do? There was a baseline of what you knew you wanted–fun. To break boundaries. Get out of your comfort zone. But not drag all of them into it. Even Rhaya, who’d offered. 

But what was the next step after failing miserably at making out with an attractive stranger?

You gave in, and you went to watch the latter half of Sinister with the trio. It's near the back of the theater, four chairs all aligned: Vera, Rhaya, you, then Dabi. Vera suggested it when silence broke out after asked what you wanted to do. So you finished your cocoa, foods, drinks, and hauled it over to catch the ending. Whatever they wanted to do, you'd do it. Wasting their night for your own failed goals wasn't one of the goals you had listed. 

So whatever they wanted, you’d do with a polite, excited smile.

And that included grinding your teeth to try and not hide behind your hands at all during the film. Jumpscares made you squeeze onto your skirt, occasionally brought your eyes over to look at Rhaya laughing and grinning every time she got scared, and then over to Dabi. He just watched the film unphased, yet at the crowd–his eyes scanning it every so often–he held a small smirk. 

Turmoil boiled in your stomach the closer the movie got to the climax. The end was near; you knew that. You also knew that it was fake. But did that stop you from jumping when a loud noise rang out in the theater, and a jumpscare appeared on the big screen? Did that stop Dabi from grinning behind a beer when you sank deeper into your seat after jumping? 

Rhaya let out a small laugh under her breath, but you ignored it. It was hard not to hyper-focus on Dabi shifting in his seat. Leaning closer. The scent of him throwing itself right into your personal bubble. Full of underlying cologne that made your heart race like the first time you met him. Full of that spiky hair tickling the side of your face. The warmth of his hand falling over your wrist on the armrest. His long, slender fingers grazed it so softly, there was a fairly considerable possibility that you’d imagined it. You would’ve glanced down to check, but when your eyes left the screen, they locked onto Dabi’s.

“Feel that rush?” he murmured as your heart pounded in your chest. Rapid breaths still came from the swirl of adrenaline coursing through you from head to toe. “That’s what tonight’s about.”

He flashed his teeth in a small, devious smile. The effects of the jumpscare remained in full as his eyes remained on yours. The collection of him within your senses, very briefly, made the theater disappear around you. Every thud of your heart replaced the sounds blaring from the speakers. Every breath ignored the popcorn and the nachos and the beer. And as you slowly nodded, the mix of his hand sliding off of yours joined with the drag of his hair across your skin, made a hook slam itself into you.

Compelled to follow him as he leaned back into his spot, you had to stop yourself mid-movement. Halfway through the action, realizing you were following him to stay close. To keep that rush of adrenaline that he radiated. 

Instead of making a bigger fool of yourself than you would've if you completed the action, you shifted. Pretended–as best as you could–that you were simply readjusting your sitting position. Moved your legs to be more comfortable, wiped your hands down on your thighs, crossed your ankles, and, for good measure–leaned toward Rhaya.

It was the simplest solution. What were intrusive thoughts about Dabi when you were focused on Rhaya? A plan that helped you get through the rest of the movie without falling victim to your thoughts. Like how similar Dabi looked leaning back in the theater chair to when he leaned back in a few pictures on his site. Or how he managed to loll his head the same way, too. Even in the darkness, even surrounded by dozens of people, even to you, he looked like he was going to whisper something meant only for the ears of his partner. Or partners. 

That was the last thought that made your cheeks burn before you forced the image away. It was a flash of Dabi in a situation you couldn’t even begin to fathom correctly. The positions, the set-up, the ways one…touched…each other when there was more than one person involved. It was easy to picture Dabi finding himself comfortable in something like that. But when your mind inevitably included yourself in the mix? 

Wow! Look at those credits roll! 

The image of pink glittery nails peeling your corset off as Dabi knelt between your legs was instantly washed away. The lights flickered on as everyone stood, stretched, talked, laughed. Dabi–again, wasn't a mind reader–but when he looked at you, it felt like he could see right into your twisted thoughts. Like every dirty deed that crawled out of the crevasses inside your skull was on full display just for him. 

Or maybe you weren’t as good at pretending you were unaffected by him as you thought. 

Dabi ought to know when someone's attracted to him. Even before you found his site, it wasn't like he was known for going home alone or spending nights alone, for that matter. 

Still. Still. You gave him a small smile before turning to look at a cheery Rhaya. There were still a few ounces of hope inside your belly that you were just reading into Dabi’s behavior too much based on your own feelings. Confusion. Based on your own confusion. There weren’t feelings. 

You smiled at Rhaya as she, then Vera, passed by you. Dabi waved out a hand for you to go in front of him. His eyes pointedly dropped down to look at your legs as you passed. 

Your knees nearly buckled under the heated look.

Okay. Maybe it was smarter to acknowledge that there were some feelings there. Just ones you couldn’t even begin to fathom exploring. Being attracted to an attractive person was just that–an attraction. One-sided. Nothing else. 

Besides, tonight wasn’t about Dabi. It was about taking risks with strangers. People you’d never see again just in case you humiliated yourself in front of them. 

So, not Dabi.

It was also about scares. Heart-stopping, hand-shaking, jumping and jolting-inducing scares. Which was except how you ended up there. Down the block, walking behind Rhaya and Vera, with Dabi behind you. The crowd parted down a fork in the road and went towards what should've been an open field. Instead, there was a collection of booths, tables, food trucks, and a queue. Not long, but it stayed contained to the caution tape ropes off to the side. It curved into a dark tunnel where, even from there, beneath the bright lights illuminating the exterior, you couldn't see in. Screams, laughter, and loud bangs came from inside it, and you followed the tunnel of trash bags, gauze, fake spiderwebs, wood walls, and smoke machines down into the maze.

A chainsaw revved as Rhaya turned to Vera, eyes pleading. Vera simply sighed, but they were smiling. 

"Fine. You two wanna do it too?" They glanced back at you and Dabi, but you hadn't taken your eyes off the pitch-black entrance. A vast abyss that held sounds straight out of a horror movie and a silence you couldn’t bear. 

"Um," you stated. Rhaya wanted to do it, so you should, too. You should do it for her so she won't miss out. And Dabi probably wanted to do it. It seemed right up his alley. He–

“Go ahead,” he said, boots crunching the red mulch beneath them. “I’ll make sure nobody bothers sunshine here.”

Rhaya gave Dabi a pointed look, but you weren't looking at her very long. Dabi was fine hanging back with you? What? Although, technically, he could just do the maze later with Rhaya, Vera, or anyone else from the group you hadn't regrouped with yet. Or alone. He seemed like the type to go at it alone just to prove he could walk out unphased. He'd watched the entire latter half of Sinister without jumping even once. Not a single scare got him. 

“Go,” Dabi mused, and when he moved, you just expected him to walk away. Maybe say your name to get your attention cause you were still watching him, motionless. But he didn’t. 

You nearly fell flat on your face when Dabi's arm hooked around your shoulders. He dragged you away from the maze, toward the line of pop-up shops and treats. His arm was strong around you, yet maintaining a loose grip. 

“Dabi,” Rhaya called from behind you, but Dabi didn’t let her say more than his name. 

“I’ll play nice, Rhaya, don’t worry.” 

You watched his hand rise from your shoulder as he waved. And just as a scream of a maze-goer tore out through the night sky, Dabi leaned closer and gave you a wicked smile. One that turned your insides molten and your heart pump as fast as it was during the movie. 

“Wanna have some fun, sunshine?”

Fun with Dabi was actually both expected and unexpected. It was a considerably slow build into whatever chaos he considered fun, given that he only had about fifteen minutes to play babysitter. Maybe it was part of it, maybe it wasn't–but he started by keeping his arm around your shoulders as you walked from booth to booth. Handmade jewelry, soaps, baked goods, alcohol, sweaters, shirts, hats, and scarves. Ornaments and decorations. 

All in the Halloween theme. All you just about stopped and looked at–well, at the first booth.

Then Dabi dropped his arm, and it felt like he was watching you. Gauging your reactions to certain items. The jewelry. The hand-knit scarves. The soap. The soap was bad. Well, good, but bad. As in when you picked up a bar you liked–a black and green witches cauldron that smelled of citrus–he wrapped his hand around yours and brought the bar up to smell. His thumb ran over the back of your fingers as he leaned in, and there was no way he knew where your mind went, but it went there. 

Hard not to when the lock to the cage known as naked Dabi had fallen to the ground a long time ago. It was a little too easy to imagine him running the bar over himself in the shower. Over his arms. Shoulders. Neck. Chest. Stomach. Lower…

The funny feeling in your belly came back just as you pivoted away from the booth to run away to the next. And to get a breath of fresh air without Dabi beside you to cloud it. Cloud your judgment. 

Except the next booth was selling spiked hot cocoa, and it took a matter of seconds for Dabi to give you a curious expression that asked the unsaid question. And with the slight chill in the air that made a shiver sneak down your spine, who were you to say no to some cocoa? Especially when it had a perfect swirl of whipped cream up top and a toasted marshmallow pressed into it. You just couldn't chug it, which would be fine since it was a warm drink. But you didn't have nearly enough food in you for the liquor-to-cocoa ratio. 

“Thank you,” you murmured after Dabi bought your drink. You tried to do it yourself–and to pay him back when he beat you to the payment–but he silently insisted. “You didn’t have to.”

“Told Rhaya I’d play nice.” He cocked a brow as he glanced down at his cup. He licked a bit of whipped cream right from the point at the top, and you got a little dizzy as you watched his tongue move. Just a quick flick of a movement, and still. Something deep in your mind sparked. “So I’m playing nice.”

A soft burning in your cheeks moved to your stomach as you sipped the drink. The ratio was definitely in favor of the whisky, but the rich chocolate mixed in was just as delicious. Just as sweet. You took another long sip when a particularly cold gust of wind hit you as you walked to the next booth. 

“So, Superman didn’t work out.” Not a question. Still, as you felt the warmth of the drink speak through you, you picked up a pair of bat earrings and nodded your head. Then shrugged. “He a shit kisser?”

“What?” You sat the earrings down, ignoring the people around you. You weren’t dressed as risque as some of the others there, but it still felt like all eyes were on you. 

“Superman,” he said, stepping closer, picking up a necklace with a broken skeleton on the end. Rotted. Vines growing around it. “You ran out of the bar pretty fast. Either he was a great kisser or a horrible one. One you’d leave alone, the other you’d leave together.” He gave you a small smirk as he sat the necklace back down. “My guess is the kiss was shit.”

“It…” You blinked at him. Was it really that obvious? Were you that obvious? “It just wasn’t what I expected.” 

You turned and decided to walk out of the booth without looking at anything else. Mostly so you wouldn't have to look at Dabi. 

By your next sip of cocoa, you’d downed half of the cup already.

And as you stepped out toward the open area of tables, you felt…good. Nervous, but good. Floaty. Nice. Warm.

“Vera’s right. A sweet thing like you…gotta take it slow, don’t you?” Dabi came up beside you, shoulder almost touching yours. He followed your eyes across the collection of people at the tables, all doing an assortment of different activities. Looking at what they’d just purchased, eating, drinking, laughing, kissing, touching. 

Your fingers twitched on your cup as you watched a guy’s hand play with a small remote near an isolated corner close to the maze. The woman next to him pressed her knees together when he pressed a button on the small black rectangle. 

Everyone around you was taking risks you couldn't even begin to wrap your head around doing yourself. Making out in the bar with a stranger was already making your head swim. Maybe if he hadn't tasted like stale beer and tobacco, it would've been more enjoyable. Maybe if you had talked just a little more beforehand, there would've been that spark. But around you–everyone was doing double, triple, quadruple more than you ever had in your entire life. When watching porn was the most risque thing you'd ever done, you were already way out of your depths just by trying to do something new tonight. 

Not entirely on purpose, your eyes flicked back over to the couple in the corner. Shame bubbled in your gut along with that funny feeling when you saw the woman close her eyes and bite her lip, body barely squirming in her chair. Nobody else was paying attention to them, so maybe they thought nobody could see her. In fact, as she dropped her head back and looked up at the stars, she managed to still her body. If you hadn’t seen anything prior, a passing glance would’ve made you think she was just stargazing. 

But then the man's hand moved in his pocket, and the woman's eyes closed again. Her mouth formed a word that felt foreign on your own lips, and you looked away before you saw anything else. 

If Dabi was watching them, too, you didn't look. That funny feeling that brought dampness between your legs had your full attention. As did the growing yearning to not sit there anymore. Perhaps it had something to do with everything else around you–with the drink dulling your rationale–but there was a sense of antsy that coursed through you. As you looked around. As you finished your drink. As you tried not to look back at the couple in the corner.

You didn’t want to take it slow. Sure, it wasn't like it was a bandaid you could rip off, and then that was that. But you could stop letting fear get the better of you. You could take another risk and follow that rush of adrenaline Dabi talked about in the theater. 

Your empty cup stared back at you as you glanced down. 

Another scream echoed out from the haunted maze, and a thread, a rope, a piece of twine holding you together snapped. You turned to Dabi. 

“I want to do the maze.”

His grin was positively diabolical when you held his gaze. Unwavering. 

You had to do this. Had to.

“You sure?” he asked, but he was already walking toward the surprisingly short line. 

“Yeah. Yes.” You nodded a little too fast as the drink settled in and buzzed turned to tipsy. “I want to.”

Your cups were discarded as Dabi led the way. 

As you settled in line, Dabi already had the cash out needed to pay the entrance fee. It was a three-minute interval between people, and you had a glowstick you either hung from your belt or you wore around some part of your body. Yours went around your neck, and Dabi's hung from his belt. Instructions were given on small signs as you got closer to the entrance–while it was a maze, it wasn't complicated. Some dead ends here and there, but you'd be able to find your way out with ease. And if you couldn't, or you simply wanted out, you were given a red glow stick to crack to alert those working the maze. They'd then help you out of the nearest emergency exit. 

So you were given a red glow stick, and Dabi was, too.

You stared down into the black abyss, forming itself into a hallway in front of you. An archway littered with bloodied rubber limbs, realistic plastic saws, and caution tape towered over you. The production design was far better than something that only cost five dollars per person to enter. A little bit of fog snuck out of the front as two things happened–the front worker waved you in and Dabi pressed his hand against your back.

“Ready?” he cooed beside your ear. 

“No,” you squeaked.

And yet, as the line grew longer behind you and a cold gust of wind made the maple-scented smoke tornado, you couldn't turn back now. The power of alcohol and blind determination guided you. As did the hand on your back. That did a lot more than you liked to think about as you walked forward. 

As the dirt path flattened beneath your heels, you stepped inside the entrance.

And everything turned to darkness.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel. Behind you. That was it. It provided a little bit of light into the tunnel, but with every step forward, the darkness persisted. It was impressive on some conscious level. But the second you stepped into the unexpected silence filled with nothing but the sounds of your steps and a hissing fog machine, you were reaching out for Dabi's arm. 

His snort came a moment later, but he–thankfully–didn’t pull back. He just whispered your little nickname as you took another way-too-slow step forward. 

“Scared of the dark?” he asked softly. Not sweetly. Just softly. 

“I don’t like it,” you answered. 

The faintest clicking came from the wall to your left, and you squeezed Dabi's arm a little harder. Still, you could feel him following your steps. Waited until you went forward before he followed, matching your agonizingly slow pace. 

The clicking stopped. Only for a second. 

Then it appeared on your right. Louder. 

You nearly tripped over yourself when you heard it. A quiet, consistent dripping. Not close, not far–just audible. It was loud enough that you didn’t have to put too much focus on it to hear it over the fog machine and the clicking. 

You didn’t have to do it for what came next, either. 

A strained, broken voice carried through the wall beside you. No. It came through too cleanly. It wasn’t as muffled as the rest. There wasn’t wood to dampen the noise. There wasn’t…anything? But it was pitch black, so it wasn’t like he was outside. Otherwise, there’d be some source of light or something coming through. 

Right?

“H..e…l…p.” 

A shiver shot down your spine as the voice crawled through from your right. Beside you.

“H..elp…help me.”

Your grip on Dabi’s arm tightened to the point where you had to be hurting him, but he did nothing about it. In fact, you were fairly certain he was smiling. Even if you couldn’t see it, it was just something you could feel. He beamed while you stared into the darkness, staggering forward a little faster. 

But the whispers continued. 

Until there was a rush of air next to your cheek. Not close–it wasn’t a ghost’s breath. But it was close enough that it made you stop and look to the right. Right into the darkness. 

But it wasn’t just a wall beside you.

Deep down, you gave everyone credit for the theatrics and the ideas, but when the white light flashed at the same time when the person lunged, you didn’t register the bars between you. You just saw the bloodied makeup plastered on their face, the torn and bloodied clothes, the hanging saws, knives, pliers. The chains around their wrists. The perfect look of desperation on their face as they grabbed the bars and yelled at you to help them in a voice that horror movies wished they could replicate.

  But you weren’t exactly deep down in your thoughts when the stranger lunged at the bars, and you finally understood why everyone was screaming every few minutes inside the maze. You tumbled back into Dabi the instant the person slammed against the bars, your scream echoed down the hallway before you tugged Dabi along. Who cared if his hands had briefly found themselves on your waist to keep you from falling. Who cared that he didn’t pull his hand from yours as you jerked him forward to the first fork in the road. 

A little illuminated sign that said to choose wisely that you barely registered as your heart pounded and head spun. A small red balloon hung down the left path. A fake light fixture–buzzing off and on in a low yellow hue–hung above the doorway for the path on the right. You went to the right without even stopping to think.

“Come on,” you squeaked, squeezing Dabi’s hand a little harder. 

“Want to crack the red stick, sunshine?” he murmured, matching your pace as you rushed down the hallway. 

Discomfort boiled in your gut, but…but cracking the red glow stick meant you were giving up. You’d rushed into this determined to do it. You had to do it. You chickened out halfway through your attempt to try something new with that Clark Kent when that was the whole point of the evening. Leaving the haunted maze…you couldn’t. You could make it through the whole thing without chickening out. 

If you were with Rhaya, you might’ve been a bit more susceptible to the idea. She would’ve been right beside you. She probably would’ve cracked her stick before you even finished asking if you could crack yours. 

But Dabi…

Some not-so-small part of you felt like you had to prove to him that you could do it. 

So you pulled him forward and clenched your jaw.

“No. We’re finishing this. We’re–” 

A light flicked on above you, and suddenly, the whole hallway was illuminated. It wasn't anything more than the dirt ground and a long stretch of walls of black and white gauze blowing in some sort of breeze. But the light above you was bright. It let you see down the whole hallway to the next fork in the path.

It also showed you something else. Someone else. 

She stood twenty feet in front of you, head tilted to the side, long black hair covering her face. A dirty, bloody sundress hung from her frame as she stood there barefoot. Her chest moved with slow breaths as yours raised and fell rapidly.

“Oh no,” you muttered, voice strained and cracking. 

That time, you got to see Dabi grinning. 

But it didn't last. Not simply because your eyes were flicking back to the woman. But she moved. A jerky movement forward that made footsteps pound into the dirt. Except, the second she even dared to move, the lights flicked off, and all you could hear were her footsteps sprinting toward you. 

For a mere five seconds.

Then the light was back on, and the path in front of you was empty. 

You blinked at the empty hallway–there must've been a door or something she came out of, but…but… You couldn't hear your thoughts over the sound of your heart. Or breathing. Or anything, really. Fairly sure you were on the verge of breaking Dabi's hand, you stepped a little closer to him. But you couldn't take the needed step forward. Odds were, she was waiting for you two to get beside the little crevasse she was hiding in, and then she'd jump out and scare you. You'd probably scream even louder than before and make a whole fool of yourself. Then Dabi would really be grinning and–

There was a soft breath against the back of your shoulder, and everything went cold. 

The voice was just as soft as it was decrepit and strained. It crawled out slowly. Double the length of the word itself. Joined by a flash of black hair. Of dirty, bloody clothes. Of eyes in red contacts that stared right at you. 

“Run.”

You did. With a panicked yelp. Once more, you were hauling Dabi down the hallway to what was another choice. Then another. Then another. Hand in hand, you led him through the maze. Heart pounding the whole time, you hauled him around corners, past clicking walls, smoky corridors, costumed jumpers that made you yelp. A torturer, a zombie, more ghosts. Down to the last stretch, where Dabi nudged you forward a little more just before a loud screeching echoed out behind you, and a costumed creature was wailing at you. 

And chasing you.

Who would’ve thought it was possible to run so fast in heels? 

The exit was open, thankfully, so there was finally that light at the end of the tunnel that you got to sprint toward. And you did. Until you were outside with the rest of those finishing up the maze, welcoming the cold air, welcoming the steady hold that was Dabi as you fell against him. Your eyes closed as you huffed, your warm breath puffing out in front of you in a faint cloud. It was an impossible task to collect any part of yourself still on the run from the maze. 

Your mind, your heart, your lungs–all were encapsulated in adrenaline. Shackled in the dungeon and held captive. 

And Dabi wasn’t helping you feel any better. 

Not when he skated his hand down your back as you wrapped your arm around his waist. Not when he idly twisted the fake ribbons at the base of the corset and kept his voice low. As if you could hear it over the sounds of everyone else's terror inside the maze. You could, but it didn’t hurt for Dabi to speak up. Or not whisper beside your ear like he was saying a secret just for the two of you. 

“Look at that, sunshine.” Somehow, his thumb managed to swipe an accidental patch of bare skin between your corset and your skirt. Embarrassment hit your cheeks cause you were sure you were a little sweaty, but Dabi said nothing about it. “You did it. Wasn’t that fun?”

A stuttering laugh broke out of you. Was he serious? Fun? That was terrifying. You felt like you were going to pee yourself every time someone jumped out at you. Your voice certainly felt the effects of screaming every few minutes. As did your body–it wasn’t exactly serious exertion you'd experienced. But you'd spend the last ten minutes on edge, and you still hadn't come down from it yet. 

You laughed again. “Fun?” 

You glanced back at the exit as the creature wailed again. A group of three came running out laughing and yelling. 

“I’m not going to be able to sleep with the lights off for like a week. That was awful.”

Dabi’s hand stayed exactly where it was as his eyes locked on yours. “Yeah, but you did it. Wouldn’t have three years ago.”

A burning danced across your cheeks as you turned back to the exit. No, you wouldn’t have. Two years ago–even one–you wouldn’t have. All of this–it wasn’t in your wheelhouse. It was never something you even thought to do, let alone have the courage to do so. 

"Three years ago, I wouldn't have even come out to this." You felt some nerves come back through as your breathing regulated itself, and your heart started to calm down. Glancing down at your costume, the embarrassment only seemed to worsen. Specifically when you saw how you pressed yourself against Dabi's side. Every part of you that could touch him touched him. "Or…um. Or dressed up like this."

So much for the panic dispersing. It was a mere second between when you looked down to when you were peeling yourself from Dabi’s side. Even if you didn’t want to move–even if his warmth was welcomed and it made something inside your stomach tingle the same way the spiked cocoa had–you put a foot of space between you. 

And it wasn't like the movement had gone unnoticed. But as Dabi eyed you with that smirk he always had, he slid his hands into his pockets. His lips parted as another wail came from the tunnel behind you, but that was the only sound that echoed out in the group. He turned his eyes from you to your shoulder and then over your shoulder. The only warning you got before an arm wrapped around yours, and it was a small miracle that you hadn’t jumped as Rhaya held you close. 

“What the hell are you doing back here?” She jerked her head from you to the maze exit to Dabi. “Did you make her go through the maze? What the fuck–”

“No, no,” you interjected while a swirl of guilt made itself at home in your stomach. Right beside the growing ball of humiliation. “I wanted to do it. Dabi just went with me.”

Rhaya looked at you instantly and looked at you like you were absolutely insane. And maybe you were a little bit. A little bit tipsy still, too. But she was clearly struggling trying to picture you asking Dabi to do the maze. Not that you could exactly blame her, but what else could you say? That was the truth. 

“Seriously?” she said after a moment, pulling back to get a serious look at you. “You…you wanted to do it?”

Dabi stayed silent as you nodded. 

“I did.”

Rhaya blinked at you. Surprise was all over her, but there was an air of pride about her that made you feel a little better. A hint of disbelief that made the embarrassment worsen, too, but the pride part wrote over that. 

Another wail echoed out, and Vera was suddenly beside Rhaya. 

“Okay, mind if we take this elsewhere? Even out in the open, that thing is terrifying. Please?” 

Dabi tilted his head back and held out a hand. Vera already had a scowl going by the time he spoke, and Rhaya was just as quick to get her arm looped through yours to drag you behind them. 

“Lead the way then,” Dabi mused. 

Somehow, as you passed by every booth, every store, every bar, every food truck, you ended up back at the parking lot. Rhaya was checking her phone with a small scowl while you sputtered out an explanation about why you wanted to go into the haunted maze. You might've circled around the fact that you were trying to prove to Dabi that you could take a risk that he’d consider close to his level. But Rhaya took you at your word. The other words. The ones about needing to prove to yourself that you could really do something risky tonight. Take those next steps even if you’d messed up with the Clark Kent. 

“Did you go down the hallway with the ghost women?” Vera asked, peering back at you over their shoulder. 

"Fucking hell," Rhaya said just as you nodded. "I'm not going to be able to turn my lights off without thinking there's someone hiding in the shadows. Dark corners are off-limits too, shit." She groaned as she pulled out her car keys. "Last year, they had the balloon hallway, and I went down that one and had nightmares about Pennywise for a month. I thought the other side was going to be a little better, but no.”

There was some kind of finality falling over your shoulders as Vera and Dabi stood beside each other, both watching Rhaya get her car keys out of her clutch. This was it–you were parting ways, going home, peeling the costume off of you, and writing the night off as done and over. You’d technically done what you’d aimed for, except none of it felt really…satisfying. Not outside of when you ran out of the maze with Dabi. But even still, discontent boiled in your stomach. 

“You guys wanna come over for one last movie?” Rhaya pulled her car key from the ring of keys and glanced up at Vera and Dabi. The latter was already smiling. 

“You just don’t want to be alone, do you, Rhaya?” Vera crossed their arms, but they were smiling too. 

"I will neither confirm nor deny that. I am…simply extending the invitation to continue this Halloween celebration back at our place." Rhaya turned to you, and through the goofy grin she had locked and loaded, you could see the small hint of a plea beneath it. She'd slept in your room for a few nights after Halloween last year. "As long as you're okay with that."

Rhaya wasn’t someone who got scared easily, but when she did get scared, it got to her. Same way it got to you. And you couldn’t disagree with her–you’d be sleeping with a lamp on in your room for the next few nights until you stopped wondering what was waiting for you in the shadows, spying on you in the night. Unseen. What could be there when you turned the light on. What you knew wouldn’t be there, but your imagination would still haunt you with it. 

And, selfishly? Saying yes meant you got a few more minutes with Dabi. But realistically, saying no would've been the smarter option. No Dabi meant no embarrassment. No Dabi meant stripping, showering, and climbing between your soft sheets. Turning in for the night before you had to compete with whatever tomorrow threw your way. Rhaya already had to go into work at ten tomorrow, and she wasn't always a morning person. So you'd probably just watch one movie in silence, then go to bed. An easy night. No chance to say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, flattening down your skirt as you spoke. “I’m, um, a little nervous myself, actually. 

"Then…?" Rhaya waved out a hand toward her car, clicking the key to unlock it. The lights flashed, and the locks jerked unlocked in the doors. 

To no one's surprise, Dabi and Vera stepped forward with a shrug. There were free drinks at your apartment, warm blankets, a nearby pizza place that was open late and only took twenty minutes to deliver, and a flatscreen you and Rhaya had splurged to get. You felt a little guilty, however, as you watched Dabi climb into the backseat with you. Vera, completely sober, took the seat behind the wheel, while Rhaya started directions. 

While Vera had no interest in ever finding someone to go home with, and Rhaya had committed herself to you for the night, Dabi was just…there. He still had the opportunity to go back out to the street party, grab another drink or two or three–whatever he wanted to do–and go home with someone. Or someones. There was zero obligation for him to cut his night short because of you and Rhaya. You weren’t even totally sure whether he was someone’s ride or not. Or if Vera was. Were they leaving their cars there? Were they flaking on the rest of the group? 

You glanced over at Dabi as the streetlights above you lit up the back of the car. He was scrolling through his phone while Vera and Rhaya argued over how scary the maze really was or if Rhaya was just letting her fear or the supernatural get to her again. A little wrongly, your eyes followed the curve of his nose down to his lips. They lingered there for a moment, then another, then an even longer one until Dabi's fingers tapped on the screen, and you saw a flash of a familiar blue banner before his phone screen went dark. 

A blue banner you’d spent an eternity pretending you’d never seen before. 

When you tried to look away, shutting off all questions about what he was doing there, you made the mistake of not immediately looking down. Instead, there was just a moment where your gazes met, and that funny feeling turned into something deeper inside your stomach. Dabi dropped his head back and cocked a brow, so clearly studying the person he’d just caught looking over his shoulder at his phone. 

You just smiled awkwardly, not entirely sure what to do. You hadn’t exactly seen what he’d been looking at. It’d just been a white page with the blue banner up top before the screen went dark. 

Not entirely sure what to do, you turned and looked out the window instead. Watched the fireflies you wished you could stop and see. Counted the cars parked on the side of the road with for sale signs on their windshields. Looked for deer creeping in the blurring trees. Ignored the burning shiver traveling down the back of your spine whenever Dabi shifted beside you or interjected something into Vera and Rhaya's conversation about what movie to watch.

A debate about whether to watch a movie in theme or a comedy to break the tension. 

From Halloween to Scary Movie to Knives Out to Friday the 13th to Clueless. 

When Dabi nudged your foot with his, asking for your opinion, you had to tear your eyes away from the window. Away from the stars in the sky and the moon shining bright. For the first time in months, you felt your mouth go dry when you found Rhaya, Dabi, and even Vera–in the rearview mirror–waiting for your answer. Your movie option. 

You’d seen dozens upon dozens of movies, and yet not one came to mind as you blinked at the three of them. 

Crap. 

You felt your whole body tighten as you reached deep into your mind and tried to wade through every murky thought to find something. Just any movie title. None from when you were younger–they wouldn't like any of those. They were all straight-to-DVD movies you found in the bargain bin. Or VeggieTales. Lots of VeggieTales. So then you had to move onto the ones you’d watched by yourself to make up for what you’d missed, the ones you’d watched with Rhaya when she was helping you branch out. 

You took the first one that came to mind. 

“Final Destination?” you blurted. Rhaya had made you watch all five movies last year over the span of two days. The gore had gotten to you at first, but by the third movie, you and Rhaya were just laughing at the absurdity. 

“Perfect balance.” Rhaya grinned, slamming her hands down on the armrests and pushing herself up in the seat. The seatbelt pressed against her costume, but she didn’t even bat an eye. “I vote in favor.”

“Yeah, I’m down. I haven’t seen it in ages.” Vera turned down the road that’d take you home. They peered back at Dabi. “Dabi?”

“Didn’t take you for a fan of that kinda shit.” Dabi peered over at you…impressed? 

“Rhaya talked me into watching them last year.” You tried a casual shrug. It led to you just glancing down at your nails instead. “I didn’t hate them.”

“Rhaya,” Dabi cooed. “I didn’t know you corrupted sunshine here so much.” 

Corrupted. You bit your lip and tasted the faintest hint of strawberry left across it. Corrupted felt like a strong word. A bad word when it left Dabi. Although, he seemed to have the ability to turn just about any word into a curse. How he spoke just…felt dangerous. Or when he looked at you with that devious look. 

Both people in the front spoke at the same time. Vera under their breath, and Rhaya, with a wave of her hand and an eye roll that only you could see from your position. 

“You’re just jealous,” Vera murmured under their breath.

“I haven’t done anything she hasn’t asked me to. She wanted to watch some movies for the spooky season, so I figured an introduction to the schlocky beauty of the Final Destination franchise was the best place to start.” Rhaya peered back at Dabi with a proud look. “Next comes 

Scream.”

“You haven’t even seen all of those,” Vera said, leaning forward as they crossed traffic to pull into your apartment’s parking lot.

"God forbid I want to experience the movies with her." Rhaya huffed and rolled her eyes. Again. This time, she waited until Vera was looking at her to do so. And in a dramatic show, Rhaya threw her door open before Vera even put the car in park. "Come on, we got a movie to watch!"

It was always fast-paced with Rhaya. Not inherently rushed, but she always knew what she wanted, when she wanted it, and how to go about getting it. Jealousy wasn't new when you watched her, but it never made you angry. Just silently envious that she could jump on Vera's back and have them give her a piggyback ride into the apartment while dialing the pizza place to put an order in. She laughed into the receiver when Vera pretended to tip Rhaya off their shoulders before continuing on with the order like it was nothing. 

And you? You were hyper-aware of every awkward step you took in your heels. And how Dabi walked a few feet ahead of you, only to stop short with his foot holding the door to the building open. His eyes fell back to you as you shuffled forward quickly. A silent prayer passed through you as you kept your head down and watched your feet. 

Don’t fall. 

The spiked cocoa was still making you a smidge tipsy, but miraculously, you made it into the hallway without falling, tripping, snagging your heel on the carpet leading toward the elevator. It was pure luck. And you reached out to hold onto it as you stood beside Dabi in the elevator. There were just a few more hours left in the night. After the movie, after a night’s rest–you’d be free of the whole ordeal. Of every gnawing insecurity and embarrassment crawling around and invading your gut. 

Well, you hoped you would be. 

You did the haunted maze, though. You had that win under your belt. 

Or…your very short skirt. But you still had it!

The thing about your apartment–it was a simple two-bedroom. The space wasn't very big, which meant the furniture wasn't very big. It was perfect for two people living together, and it was perfect when Rhaya's friends didn't sit…typically. Half loved to lean against the couch or the small chair next to it. The other half was broken up between people who either sat on or sat beneath people. They'd get cozy on the armrests or bring a sleeping bag and make a whole event out of making a miniature bed on the floor. One time, you went outside and found a whole fort made out of the cushions and dining table chairs. 

It was fairly easy to fit four people in there through any and all kinds of combinations. Vera preferred the chair since the only people they were really comfortable with touching them were you and Rhaya. So they sat in the chair, wrapped up in a blanket, shoes kicked off just like everyone else's, a glass of water in their hand, and a bag of chips on their lap. Usually normal. Except it kickstarted the rest of the seating arrangements. With Vera in the chair–and the chips–Rhaya grabbed a thick blanket and hunkered down in front of them, leaning back against their legs and occasionally stealing a chip. 

Well, that automatically put Dabi on the couch, and you were left to make a decision. Either back out of watching the movie, pointlessly sit on the floor beside Rhaya, or just sit next to Dabi. Doing the first would just feel cheap, considering you'd been the one to suggest watching the movie that was already sitting on the title screen as they all waited for you. Sitting beside Rhaya would just seem like an obvious avoidance to Dabi. That'd draw attention you were trying to avoid. So…

So, reluctantly, you took a glass of water and sat down on the other end of the couch. Not as far as you could form Dabi–that'd be even worse. But just on the right side of the right cushion while he sat on the left, feet propped up on the coffee table. Besides the reluctance to sit alone on the couch with him, you also did so in your costume. Since the only thing anyone did when you got home was use the bathroom and take their shoes off, you felt weird changing out of your costume. 

It wasn’t like sitting through a movie would be that bad while wearing your costume. 

Ha. It was comical how your brain shifted throughout the night. Why did you really think sitting through the movie would be simple? You couldn't even blame the alcohol. The only person you could blame was yourself, but still. You could’ve laughed at how it all progressed. In fact, the movie was just one part of it. 

You started on the far right side of the couch, leaning against the side, watching the movie. Except as the air conditioning kicked on instead of the heat, nobody got up to turn it off. You definitely weren’t going to if they weren’t even going to comment on it, so you sat shivering for about a solid twenty minutes. Goosebumps were on every inch of you, you pulled your legs up onto the couch to keep warm, and you hugged your arms over your chest. But when you glanced down at one point to fix a piece on your corset, you got a good glimpse at how thin the top of your costume was. 

Now, it’d taken time to get used to it, but you were fine going braless around Rhaya. But other people? You weren’t used to that yet. And not Dabi. Certainly not Dabi. 

So your arms went even higher across your chest when you saw your nipples poking through. Obviously poking through. 

Twenty and a half minutes later, when Dabi got up to grab a beer out of the fridge, he came back with a thin blanket from the basket beside Vera’s chair. He practically tossed it at you as he sank back down onto the couch, letting you tear your eyes away from the television to watch how the screen lit up the bare skin revealed down his torso. 

It was only after you mouthed a thank you to him and draped the blanket over yourself did you realize that you had your knees pointed away from him. You had your whole body pointed away from him. And as you pretended to flatten the blanket down over your backside, you felt your heart lurch in your chest. 

The skirt hadn’t even bothered covering your underwear. Not even remotely.

Well, there went your ability to focus for…for who knew how long. You shifted underneath the blanket and tried to watch the movie, but you just kept coming back to how you'd essentially just flashed your whole backside to Dabi. Your whole…everything. Had he seen? Of course he'd seen–he'd noticed you were cold, and he'd given you the blanket. Or he'd noticed that you were flashing him, and that’s why he gave you the blanket. 

Oh, lord.

You squeezed the blanket and bit your lip until it hurt. A quick look in his direction showed him taking a sip of his drink while he lounged back on the couch. Unphased by the cold air. Unphased by the turmoil currently wreaking havoc inside you. 

Okay, so Dabi had seen you in your underwear in the most technical sense. You’d seen him naked on your phone screen while secretly looking at his personal site. That was a fair trade, wasn’t it? You could call that some form of karma. 

Karma wasn’t done with you just yet, though. 

Although you managed to finish the movie without another fiasco, Rhaya was still Rhaya. And since Vera and Dabi were already there and it was already late, Rhaya was a gracious host. She stretched, and not as conspicuously as she probably wanted, she turned just about every light on going from there to your bedrooms. Not a dark corner for anything to lurk in. 

And then she spun and offered the other side of her queen bed to Vera and the pullout sofa to Dabi. 

“I’ll drive you both back in the morning,” Rhaya said with a yawn. “If you’re down for spending the night.”

You were standing, blanket wrapped around you, one step toward your bedroom, when both answered the same way. A shrug and an okay. And then, as Vera claimed first shower, the next thing you knew, you, Rhaya, and Dabi were unfolding the pullout sofa, grabbing a collection of blankets and pillows from your bedrooms, and helping him make up the bed. Despite him telling you both that he was perfectly capable of doing so himself, you let your idle hands work on draping your old pink floral comforter over the extra set of dark purple sheets Rhaya had. One black and one pink pillow went at the top, and you were extra conscious of how your skirt rose in the back as you bent over–unavoidably beside Dabi–to pull the blankets back and turn down the bed. 

“Thanks, sunshine,” he whispered as you stood. 

The low, ragged edge to his voice sent a shiver down your spine before you could fully straighten. 

“Of course,” you squeaked, unable to hold his gaze. 

Wherever the braver version of yourself went, you wanted it back. It was probably the alcohol that fueled you the most, but really. If you’d gotten a hold of it once, you should’ve been able to do it again. You should’ve. But as Vera came out of the bathroom and Rhaya switched with her, you took that as the opportunity to slip into your bedroom for the night. 

A murmured goodnight left to those two before you sank away to your bedroom, quietly shutting your door behind you, listening to your heart thunder in your chest. Every hard beat threw itself back against the door so ridiculously, you worried that they would hear every quick beat. 

But you were alone. For the first time that night, you were really alone. 

And you felt the whole night wash over you as you trudged from your door over to your mirror to look at yourself. At the costume once more. The white fishnets, the short tulle skirt, the fake corset. How it hugged your upper body and accentuated your chest. How exposed your lower half actually was when you even just slightly bent over. 

"Jeez." You sank down onto your bed and closed your eyes. The muffled conversation between Dabi and Vera was carried softly through your bedroom door, and the low baritone laugh from Dabi brought something out in you that made your head start to swim. "No. Stop it."

You shook your head and stared down at your lap. 

What a night. What a ridiculous, insane night. You could still feel–taste–Clark Kent’s kiss. All of it. Could taste the mixed drinks, the cocoa. Feel the chill in the air. The adrenaline coursing through you when you led Dabi through the maze. Whenever he got close. Whenever he whispered sunshine. 

And yet, of all things done during the night, knowing he was sleeping on the other side of your wall was just as precarious as kissing a stranger. 

Your hands pressed against your face; the cold of your palms was vastly welcomed. 

“Dang it.” 

Being risky was far more stressful after the fact than you’d planned for. But at least you could finally get out of your costume. As you heard Rhaya leave the bathroom and Dabi slip in after her, you were one person closer to finally getting clean and washing the entire night off of you. Just…almost.

After Dabi, you went. You rushed into the bathroom, avoiding any conversation with any of them. Just in case. There was something about seeing a freshly showered Dabi that you weren't sure you could handle. Not now. Not when you'd spent the last five minutes scrubbing the taste of that Clark Kent imposter out of your mouth after exfoliating in the shower. The whole night went down the drain with your vanilla body wash. Tomorrow, you'd wake up refreshed, the silly costume aside, silly night aside, silly everything aside. And you wouldn’t have to keep pretending you knew things about Dabi that you certainly were trying not to think about as you lay in bed.

Staring at your ceiling, sleep never came. It crept closer at a snail’s pace, but it never got quite close enough. Tossing and turning, you went between kicking your sheets off your bed to pulling them back on only to kick them off…again. Your mattress dipped beneath you with every movement; your sheets crinkled, and your pajamas felt too hot. Even with the AC left on, your matching pink shorts and shirt ensemble was too much. 

The costume taunted you from where you’d folded it by your desk. The mixed drinks and loud music at the bar echoed in the silence. Clark Kent’s flirty smile crept in when you stared at your ceiling. You sipped on last night’s bottle of water to get the taste out of your mouth. Then the funnel cake and the movie and the little whisper in your ear. The stolen looks at Dabi and the looks he gave from your heels all the way up to your head. 

And the maze. The maze.

You might've been tossing and turning a little too much thinking about the maze. Not only how terrifying it was–although you refused to turn your nightstand lamp off. But because Dabi had let you hold his hand. You held his hand the whole time. Leaned against him when you ran out, panting like an idiot. He…he held you. Not entirely, but he had. 

He’d had his hand on your back and let you wrap your arm around his back. 

Warm. He’d been so warm. You could still feel the warmth even as you threw your covers off again. Could feel a whole assortment of different things underneath your skin. A tingling. A neediness. A hint of envy. A hint of shame. A hint of embarrassment. A flash of Dabi in what he posted on his site appeared. Over and over and…

Over.

You bolted upright. Staring at your door, you pushed the image of Dabi away. Of him sprawled back, legs open, hand wrapped around the part of him you shouldn’t be thinking about. Up and down, he moved his hand slowly. You could hear the soft murmuring of his voice telling you what to do. When you could do it. What you were and weren’t allowed to do unless he specifically dictated it. 

Flames flourished inside your stomach. Rampant and unapologetic, they threw themselves over you from head to toe. Specifically, down between your thighs. Where your underwear felt damp, and that funny feeling went to the spot you would've experimented with touching had you been alone. 

But not with Dabi out there. And definitely not with Rhaya and Vera in her room. 

Everything was too hot. Everything was too sticky. Everything was too…wet.

You turned back and reached for your water, desperate to soothe the dryness in your mouth. To cool the coals burning in your stomach. But as you picked up the bottle, all that swirled in it was a single drop at the bottom. A single, taunting, evil drop.

And what were your options? Remain parched or venture out into the kitchen…which was right by the living room. Where the couch was. 

Where he was.

Ten minutes. You deliberated it for ten minutes. Even paced the length of your room. But you were thirsty. Very thirsty. And without any source of water in your room…

You turned the knob on your door very slowly. Very, very slowly. Just in case. You didn't want to wake him up if he was already sleeping. You even tiptoed out into the hallways. Just as slowly and just as carefully as you'd opened your door. Every step with the hope that you wouldn't make the floor creak or any part of your body pop in any sort of way. 

Just a few steps to get to the kitchen…just a little further and…

"Didn't think you, of all people, would still be awake, sunshine."

You froze mid-step. One foot into the kitchen, you felt your heart sink into your stomach. It wasn’t heavy; in fact, when you slowly spun toward the living room, it was as light as a feather. It fluttered as fast as a hummingbird’s wings when you saw Dabi. Back against the top cushions of the couch, blankets still turned down underneath him, one leg kicked out, the other propped up with his arm on his knee. Phone in hand, he turned a curious look your way and lowered his phone. 

He was in nothing but his boxers. 

“Hi,” you squeaked. 

It was impossible to look away from the slew of newly bared skin. Or the holiday apt skull nipple piercings. He was just…so bare. So very, very bare. Beautifully bare. Sinfully, so. 

You jerked your eyes up when you did another look over the muscles over his abdomen. You were staring. Really staring. 

Dabi just held his smirk.

“I just wanted, um, some water.” You pointed back at the fridge while staggering toward it. You tripped over your own feet, stumbling against the counter with only a last-minute catch on the lip. Just as quickly as you’d stumbled, you turned and jerked the fridge open. The cold air felt nice. “Do, um, do you want one?” 

You fumbled with your own when he answered, "Sure."

Squeezing the bottles, eyes locking onto the poor job at grocery shopping you’d done, you took a deep breath. It needed to calm you down. You needed to calm yourself down. Dabi was just a guy. Just a person. All he was doing was being comfortable before he went to bed. You’d seen guys in less while at the beach. All you had to do was get over the hump that was the memory of Dabi whispering to the camera to touch yourself slower. To wait for it. To feel your legs start to shake before you even considered giving yourself any relief. 

You held a tight smile as you turned back. Every step toward the pullout couch was agony. Especially since Dabi kept his eyes firmly locked on you. 

“Thanks, sunshine,” he said as he took the cold bottle. 

His fingers brushed yours, and there went your sanity. It was a blessing that he had a grip on the bottle cause it slipped right from your fingers the second he touched you. 

“Of course.” You maintained your tight, polite, sweet smile. Maybe that’d make up for how awkward you felt. “Um. is there anything else I can get you before you go to bed?”

“No, sunshine.” Dabi tilted his head back as he looked at you. “But I appreciate how eager you are to please.” He sat the bottle beside him on the bed, trailing his fingers along the side, up to the cap, then back down. His eyes only left you for a second. One second to let your whole body burn without him noticing. 

But, alas, he didn’t look down at his bottle for long. Not long enough for you to get more than half a step back from the bed. 

“You have fun tonight?” 

The question gave you pause, stopping before you even finished moving. The plastic bottle crinkled in your hands as you thought over the four words. Four easy words. An easy question to answer, too. A simple yes or no would suffice. Yes or no, a goodnight, and a small trek back to your room. The door would close, you would quench your thirst, climb back in bed, and hope that sleep came for you soon. No thoughts about Dabi. No staring at practically naked Dabi. 

A deep breath came out awkwardly while you stared at the bent label underneath your fingers. The slight air bubble in the bottle moved around as you tilted it, following it move around as you avoided looking at him. 

“Uh, yeah.” You clenched your jaw. You did have fun. Just…not the entire time. But if you thought about it too much, you’d start to compare the pros and cons of the night. Then you’d really never get to sleep. “I, um. Yeah. Fun. I had fun.”

The pillows moved underneath Dabi as he sat up a little more. The movement caught your attention despite aiming for otherwise, and there you were, caught in his gaze. His head lolled to the side to show off the hoops and silver piercing going along his ear. 

“Such a shit liar for a people pleaser.” The corners of his mouth turned up into a wicked smile. “You can do better than that, sunshine.”

“I’m not…” Eh. You sighed. What was the use? Of all the people who wouldn't care about your thoughts on the night, Dabi was at the top of that list. He had no stakes in how your evening went. "I don't like lying. I don't want to be good at it." A small laugh snuck out. "And the night wasn't awful.”

“But?" He tilted his head forward, waiting. Those blue eyes of his held yours right in the palm of his hand. It was a weird feeling–standing there while all Dabi did was say a single word, and you felt like you were back in the corset. It felt like his fingers were undoing the fake lace at the back, freeing every little millimeter until the ribbons were uncrossed and everything you were holding back was free. 

“But…” But you shouldn't have been standing there. In your room. Back in bed. Asleep. Away from a half-naked Dabi, peering up at you, head canted. Those eyes of his were half-lidded as he waited so ridiculously patiently; it felt like this was a trick. He was waiting to mock you for whatever reasons you came up with. Still, the words found their way out of you. "Um. It just…it wasn't…"

You frowned down at the water bottle. It wasn’t what? You technically didn't have a bad night. You'd done what you'd gone out to do. Checked off your list of experimentation and boundary-pushing and just trying. But it just felt so un-

“Satisfying?”

You looked back at Dabi, teeth digging into your bottom lip. He said it, not you. But…yeah. The more you replayed the night, the more it hadn't felt fun. Not how you’d hoped. 

You nodded. 

Dabi matched your nod with his own, but he didn't say anything. Not as he glanced down at his phone, checking the time. The background–a black and white piece of art of a jack-o-lantern consumed in flames with a knife stabbing through the side–flashed briefly, and you caught a familiar-looking notification you'd kept turned off on your phone. Even after you unsubscribed from his site. 

You looked away the instant you saw it, finding interest in the black screen of the television instead. Anything other than that. 

Dabi set his phone down and…and turned? You jumped when he slid to the edge of the bed, legs parting around you since you were in his way, and peered up at you. His hair was already dry, but it had a certain messy look that made the rest of him look as rough and dangerous as he probably wanted people to think he was. Maybe he was. He was the closest thing to a stranger to you in the friend group. 

“Come on,” he whispered. 

“What?” You stepped back as he rose to his feet. It brought him just a mere inch away from you, and you almost tripped going back another step. If any bare part of him touched you, you weren’t sure how your body would react to that. Or maybe you were pretty sure of how your body would react, and you were trying to avoid that funny feeling from coming back. “Go where? Why?”

Dabi reached aside and grabbed his jeans laid over the side of the chair. His shirt went next. 

“Can’t smoke inside.” He nodded at your bedroom. “Grab some shoes, sunshine.”

For some reason–a reason you knew, but elected to ignore–you grabbed shoes. Chugged half of the water bottle, threw a sweater on over your pajama top, hoping it'd cover where your nipples were poking through the cotton, and went back out into the living room area. And there was Dabi, half-dressed in his costume, standing by your front door. He spun his two-dollar lighter between his fingers as he so clearly waited for you. The second he saw you, he opened the door and waved for you to go first. 

Were you really going through with whatever this was?

You took a step forward. Apparently, you were. 

Neither of you really said anything much during the walk. It didn't take long to figure out where Dabi was taking you when he led you to the stairwell, and you went up. Rhaya had brought you up to the roof a few times during nights when there wasn't a cloud in the sky so you could really enjoy looking at the stars. Technically, it'd been one of those steps towards taking risks since the roof was off-limits, but when Rhaya had a key…you elected not to ask questions. Since then, the roof door seemed to be unlocked more often than not. Either from Rhaya's last visit or, presumably, someone else's 

It was open when Dabi turned the handle and shoved it open. 

There was something so surreal about stepping out there with Dabi. The cold air, the bright stars, the rushing wind that threatened to break through your sweater. A single light sat on the wall above the door, but the rest was illuminated by those still awake in town. A sporadic light left on here and there; too late for trick-or-treaters, too early for those trying to cling onto every free minute of the night. The perfect time for those who had more bravery and confidence than you as they brought someone home with them. Or went home with someone. 

You sauntered up next to Dabi as he lit the end of his cigarette, back turned to the few buildings around your apartment complex. Nothing fancy–just a few houses, another apartment complex, a gas station, and a small grocery store up the street. You took a second to look up at the stars. 

It’d been too long since you’d taken a second to look at them. 

“So tonight was pretty shit for you?” He stared down at the end of his cigarette, watching how the smoke coiled from it. “Don’t tell Rhaya. She’ll try to do everything to redo it.”

“It…” You kept your eyes glued back up to the sky. “It wasn’t bad. Um. Just…" His word had fit the bill the best. "Was just like you said. Wasn't, uh, satisfying."

You had more to say, like asking Dabi why he’d asked you to come out to the roof with him, but the question stayed in your throat. 

“Yeah?” He tapped the side of the cigarette. “What kept my sunshine unsatisfied?”

Something sparked in your belly that brought your eyes down to the building across the street from you. Not a single light was on, but that didn’t matter. None of that mattered. There was a warmth pooling in your gut that only went lower to where your shorts felt too short. Not nearly as bad as your skirt had been, but…bad enough. Enough that it felt like the seam was pressing right against where you could feel yourself feeling…like that. 

Funny. Wet.

His sunshine? Your deep breath came with a shift of your feet. 

“What?” A nervous laugh joined the word. 

“What part of the night kept you unsatisfied?” He leaned back on his elbows, watching you. “What would you redo?”

Asking him why he cared would probably be a pointless tangent. Dabi, if you had to fathom a guess, cared about what he cared about–no explanation. Not one he’d give, probably. Rhaya could go into endless detail about why she cared about this and that–it was something you had in common. But Dabi seemed like a wildcard you didn’t fully understand. 

Besides, it was a question you’d been thinking about since you were left sleepless. 

“Um…I mean…” But discussing it with Dabi was a whole different ball game. So you went with subtlety instead of bluntness you weren’t sure you had. You could still taste him in your mouth as you glanced down and picked at your nails. “Well. I think I’d switch up how I started the night.” 

“The Clark Kent wannabe?” 

Well, Dabi was onto you, wasn’t he? A small laugh found its way into the wind, and you watched it get carried off. Every unfairly hard beat of your heart kept you rooted in place as you nodded. Did you really want to talk about this with Dabi? It would be easy to simply go back down to the apartment. Even being alone with him was a dangerous game to play with yourself. 

“The costume, too,” you added quickly, trying to change the subject. “I’ve never worn anything like that before. It, uh…it felt kinda weird. I felt so…exposed.”

“But did you like it?” Some loose pebbles on the roof crunched under his boots as Dabi turned to face you. “Did you like kissing sweet Superman?”

“I…” Dabi already knew the answer to the second question. But the costume…did you like wearing it? Putting aside how new it felt to wear, how did you actually feel in it? “I think if I got past being worried about flashing everyone my underwear, I might…I might kind of like it. I…I might need a little more confidence, too. But I’ll get there.”

“Sunshine,” Dabi said as he tapped his cigarette again. “You could’ve had anyone there on their knees if you asked. We both know that Superman’s pissed he’s not going home with you.”

“Dabi.” 

What was he on about? It was just a skimpy costume. Anyone would look tantalizing in it. Tantalizing. Had you ever used that word in any kind of association with yourself? Even with just a costume you were wearing. That was so…new. Did you look tantalizing in the fairy costume? Rhaya certainly would’ve. 

“So, shit kiss. Got it.” He looked out over at the house across the street. “What else was…unsatisfying?”

“It wasn’t…” You shook your head. It wasn’t just one direct thing that was unsatisfying. It was you. You were unsatisfying. You felt unsatisfying. Like no matter what you aimed to do, you’d always end up being an awkward fool. You’d always trip over yourself and fall flat on your face. “I don’t know. I had fun in the haunted maze.”

“Okay.” He paused to blow out a long breath. Smoke came out with it and mesmerizingly curled into the night. “Got half of your goals done then. Let’s fix the other half.”

The whole world screeched to a halt. He…what? What? You turned to slowly look at Dabi, blinking at the casual expression on his face as he put the cigarette out on the ledge and looked back at you. Waiting. He was so good at just waiting, like he hadn't just said something really drastic. 

“What?”

"You wore the costume and had fun in the maze. That's half." He tapped his fingers on the ledge, and your eyes just subconsciously went to them. "What were the other two?"

He lifted his hand and counted them off on two fingers.

“Flirt with a stranger, and see where the fuck that would lead.” 

“Dabi.” You were starting to get good at saying his name like that. Like he’d just committed blasphemy in front of you. But it was hard not to when it felt like the air was getting thinner and your heart was going to beat out of your chest. “It…how…there…”

What did he expect you to do? Go out in your pajamas, find the first stranger who was interested in you, and make out with them? You didn’t have the confidence. Or the bravery. Or even the interest. There had to be some kind of connection. Even just a little one. Or…well, at least just something to make that funny feeling even feel somewhat sparked inside of you. The Clark Kent had kind of done that. 

But Dabi…Dabi…he…

"Drop the stranger part." He gave you a sinful smirk that went right to where you wished you had tugged your shorts down. Your mouth went dry as he dropped his eyes over your face, and suddenly, all the open air around you turned into a room just the size of you and Dabi. "Flirt with me."

You blinked at him. He had to be insane. Him? Him? He wanted…he wanted you to flirt with him? Like it was nothing? You laughed, staring down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers, trying to find any word to latch onto for a response. But what did you say? When you opened your mouth, it was just a jumbled mix of what and I can’t.

And then Dabi took a small step closer, closing the gap between you. His hand curved around your elbow, and the contact made you look up from your hands. At him. 

“C’mon, sunshine,” he mused. “Show me what dirty words that pretty mouth knows.”

There it was again–another blubbering response. Some stuttered out versions of words you couldn’t wrap your mouth around. Your mind just spun and spun and spun without any hope of getting a grasp on it. Dabi was touching you. He wanted you to flirt with him. He was flirting with you. One line, and you were done. One line and couldn’t figure out what to say. So you blurted the first thing you could think of. 

“I don’t know how to flirt.” 

"Poor thing," Dabi cooed. His hand slid up your arm. All the way up to your neck. To your cheek. Everything went blank as his thumb swiped over the apple of your cheek, and his palm swallowed your jaw. "Someone should teach you."

He was using that voice. That same voice from the video. You couldn't even fathom the idea of breathing as his thumb swiped over your cheek again. He quite literally had you in the palm of his hand and whatever restraint you pretended you had shattered. Just dust on the ground left for the wind to carry off into the night. 

“T-Teach me?” was all you managed to say. 

His hand fell from your cheek, and he held it palm-side up. 

“Give me your hand, sunshine,” he whispered. 

You did it without a second thought. Feeling his hand underneath yours was even better than when you’d clutched it inside the maze. There was a different kind of adrenaline and fear coursing through you here as you watched him guide your hand. He brought it up to his necklace and curled your fingers around the pendant, letting you feel the intricacies while he pitched forward. His mouth went beside your ear. 

“Gotta find out what makes them squirm, sunshine.” His breath was warm against the sensitive skin, sending a shiver down your spine. A noticeable shiver. “What phrases, what words, what touches, what activities. Everything.” He guided your hand down, and you suddenly felt like a glass bottle of soda left in the freezer for too long. The tips of your fingers went down where he’d left the front of his shirt open. “Takes practice, but you’ll learn. You’ll learn how to figure out what they want. And what to keep from them until they can’t fucking take it and they beg you for it.”

The tips of your fingers went over the divots in his abdomen, making your breath hitch. Closer and closer to where there’d be hair, then his pants, then–

“Then the fun really amps the fuck up.” 

You were so entranced by the feel of him beneath your fingers, you jumped when his other hand went to your cheek. It was a gentle touch at first, but when his thumb came around and went lower than your cheek, you felt his fingers twitch. His hand shifted just as you felt the rough ends of hair against your fingers, and his thumb swiped across your bottom lip. Slowly. And you felt your lips part at the touch. Not purposefully, but there was something about the gentle tug down that made your breath hitch. 

His breath tickled your jaw, and everything turned electric. 

“And you can see where just a little risk takes you.”

Your fingers hit the top of his jeans as his mouth pressed against yours. Back–you fell back even as his hand cupped your jaw and tugged you closer. A slow, barely-there press of his mouth to yours. A gasping breath. The softness of his lips. The press of your hand against his stomach as he tipped your head back and kissed you a little harder. A little deeper. A little more. 

Oh.

The world exploded in a burst of fireworks that shot like bolts of lightning through every inch of you. 

Dabi was kissing you. Dabi was kissing you! He walked you a step back, and suddenly, there was the ledge behind you, pressing into your lower back as his tongue dipped out, and you saw white for a second. He tasted like the cigarette, but not as horribly as you'd expected. Not like the Clark Kent. He tasted…good. He felt good. Good lord, every part of him felt good.

Your hand shakily slid up to his chest, feeling every muscle twitch, tighten, and move as his body curved against yours. Perfectly. Like he knew how to mold his body into yours where you yearned to feel him. Even if you hadn’t fully accepted that yearning in your mind. 

But you…you kissed him back. You tried to match the mixture of sloppy precision he had, but you were sorely lacking the skills. His skills. If he noticed–no, even though he noticed, he didn't say anything. He didn't pull away, shake his head, and try to talk you through it. He just sort of…guided you. Swiped his thumb over your bottom lip when he wanted you to open your mouth a little more. Or he coaxed a soft sigh out of you when he wanted to dip his tongue back into your mouth. Which you really thought you would've hated, but when Dabi was on the other end of it…

Your legs parted instinctively when that funny feeling came back without any mercy attached. It wasn’t like you hopped up on the ledge, opened your legs, and yanked him forward. You’d never. Not even in your dreams. All you did was fall back and part your legs enough for Dabi to slot a knee between them. A knee that–wow. 

You pulled back and pressed your forehead against Dabi’s. Did he know why you’d suddenly gasped and dug your fingers into his shirt? His thigh pressed right where you could feel that unique throbbing. A twisting need for something that made you want something there. Something touching you. Something inside you. 

“What was that, sunshine?” He pressed his thigh forward just a little more, dragging it between your legs in a way that made your knees weak. “I didn’t hear you.”

There was something utterly surreal about, well, everything. You tried to replay the events of the night that led you to that moment, all the choices, all the attempts, all the risks–and you’d ended up like that with Dabi. Felt his thigh tense, his body press against yours, his lips graze yours with a light touch. Light enough to make your head spin and spin and spin. Trying to ask what was happening wasn’t a question you could even begin to fathom an answer to. Dabi was there, hand wrapped around your throat and in charge of when you breathed. Of how your body moved. 

And for what? You tightened your hold on his shirt and bit your lip a little harder. What did he get out of doing this with you? To you? What was his goal of making you squirm on his leg? Every minor shift sent a hint of needed friction you didn’t want to decode. You tried to keep your hips still, but Dabi wasn’t keeping his leg still. Not entirely. It left you with that funny feeling that only seemed to fester. 

And then…what? So you’d kissed him. You’d kissed Dabi–a thought you could hardly wrap your head around as his mouth brushed your jaw. No, not kissed. Made out with. Pawed at him. That wasn’t just a chaste kiss at the end of a first date. That was…that was a kiss that made partners fall to their knees and beg for what he did in his videos. 

Oh. Now was certainly not the time to think about that. 

Now was the time to think about the reality of what was happening. What Dabi's goal was with this. What was going to happen next? What was going to happen next? He…Dabi…

His lips grazed your neck, and there wasn't even a second thought about tilting your head back to give him easier access. You realized too late exactly what you were doing, and you dropped your hands from him to try and grab onto the half-wall behind you. You'd practically just told him to keep going. Even pretending to say the words, they dried up in your mouth. But apparently, you were more than capable of letting your body lead the charge in that direction. 

“Dabi,” you murmured when his lips brushed beneath your ear. His name came out on a shaky breath, and you swore his thigh twitched at the sound. 

“Yeah, sunshine?” His hand skated down the other side of your neck before his thumb moved your chin to look away from him. To give him more access to all the skin you knew was sensitive there. Goosebumps were already rising just from feeling his breath. 

“I…” You what? You wanted him to stop? You wanted him to keep going? You wanted what? “I don’t understand.”

A potentially more honest answer than you’d intended as you felt something deep in your gut tighten with the same desire that sat right against Dabi’s thigh. 

“Which part?” His thumb skated down from your chin to the center of your neck. The light touch kept the goosebumps up, and the hint of his fingers closing around the back ignited something…different…in your belly. 

Having a clever retort was never your strong suit. Rhaya, yes. Vera, definitely. Dabi, always. You? Well, didn’t talk enough to ever have the chance to use one. Let alone come up with one. But right then, you really wished you’d had a retort. Had anything other than the truth. 

Cause the truth was more embarrassing than any retort you would’ve failed your way through saying.

“A-All of it.”

What you'd meant by that was you were confused regarding why he was doing this with you. Why didn't he mind pressing his lips against your neck, dragging his thigh between your legs, molding his body to yours like it was nothing more than another moment of the night? But that wasn't what Dabi took it as. 

“I’m showing you where all that flirting leads to,” he mused. “Last goal of the night, right?” A warm, wet kiss was pressed against your neck. A moan rocked itself free as your nails scraped against the wall. But just as soon as he was kissing your neck, there was a rush of cold air going between your bodies.

All the warmth was gone as you watched him step back. He gradually put space between you, one slow step at a time, giving way to all of him. How his shirt remained more open than before and wrinkled from where you'd been holding onto it. How the moonlight threw itself over him like you wanted to throw yourself at his feet. The fiery gaze in his eyes that should've turned his irises into flames. The smirk that made you miss the pressure his leg had given you between yours. 

“But we’ll stop there.” He slid his hands into his pockets, eyes dropping down over you before going right back up to yours. “Hard to picture a sweet one like you putting out on the first date.” He tilted his head. “You’re all rose petals and champagne. Not sloppy, needy car sex.” 

One step back. Then another. Closer to the door. Closer to taking all of his warmth–all of that–with him. 

“Doubt you’d go further than that with anyone, would you, sunshine?” He lingered for just a second, eyes falling over you just once more before he turned his back to you. “That’s all four goals.” He threw up one hand in a wave that sent adrenaline through you.

Panic.

Outside of the haunted maze, for the first time that night, you didn't want Dabi to leave. You didn't listen to the rational voice in your head screaming at you to go back to how you were acting before. Take slow steps. Careful steps. But tonight was about risks. And every time you’d been with Dabi, you’d taken good ones. Ones that made you feel a certain kind of way inside. A certain kind of good. And, as he walked away, a certain kind of bad.

The same bad you felt as you scrolled through his site, hands only on your phone, looking through every risque, erotic piece of media he posted. The same bad that made your thighs tense and hands grip the wall and your…your cunt–you’d heard him say that before–just scream at you for attention. 

“Wait.” You stepped forward. Just one measly step. And Dabi stopped. He was glancing back at you before you could even try to find the next words. But hey, the truth was really the only route you could take. “What if…” You felt the world stand still when he kept his eyes fixed on you. “What if I have another goal for the night?”  

Another goal? You blinked at Dabi as he parroted what you were thinking. He fully faced you, showing off that devilish smirk that only seemed to worsen the feelings in your gut. 

“What is it?” he asked so casually. 

But nothing came casual regarding what you were feeling inside. There was no way to say the words. No way to even form the sentence to get them out. You just swallowed hard around a knot in your throat, skin tingling from where you yearned to feel his touch again. Adrenaline pounding through your veins kept you determined, but it didn’t guide the words in your head to the right spots. 

“More,” was all you ended up saying at first. It took a second to wrangle in some more words, and Dabi just waited patiently, eyeing you the whole time. “I, um, I wanna…I wanna learn more. Just in case. I…I mean, what if things had gone well back at the bar? I only kind of, um, know what to do."

One brow rose, and you knew you had said the wrong thing. You should’ve kept it to yourself, gone back to bed, and just forgotten the whole evening. Even if forgetting what it felt like when Dabi touched you, kissed you, was an impossible task. It would’ve been better than the agonizing pause you got as Dabi just…looked at you. 

But then he started to move. Every step sounded like a hammer on metal as he walked toward you. Slowly. A predator stalking a prey. Going until he was right in front of you, and then all hope was lost as he leaned forward. His voice was low, breath tickling your cheek as he got as close as he could without directly touching you. 

“What do you want me to teach you, sunshine?”

The stairwell was empty. That was all you really took notice of when you were guided back into it. Well, took notice of what was around you. An empty stairwell, lots of stairs, the sound of the wind echoing around the building, the door closing behind you. The sound of your breath hitching joined the mixture. But that wasn’t even the half of it.

When you signed yourself up for the risk-taker role of the evening, it’d been under the assumption that whatever you did would simply be left back on the street party. It wouldn’t leave the bar, the food trucks, the movie theater. There’d be nothing tying you to whatever mistakes, embarrassments, or potential fun. It'd be circumstantial, and it'd be momentary. If you liked it, well, you'd recreate it another night. Try again, fix what you did wrong, and then…go from there.

This, as you felt the cold wall press against your back, was certainly not that.

Dabi's fingers pushed gently against your jaw as his mouth went to yours. He wasn't as gentle there, letting his teeth nip at your bottom lip while you gasped. It was hard not to when his entire body seemed to fit against you like a glove. Perfectly imperfect. Frustratingly so as his tongue curled and his other hand scrunched your shorts. Up. Higher. They went right up, up, up until your backside was basically out, and the seam was bunched up right between your legs. 

But it was hard to pinpoint your focus. Between there and how Dabi…the best word you could muster as your mind swirled with something you could only call desire was devour. He devoured you. He kissed how many romantic love interests kissed when the world was at stake. When everything they knew could implode tomorrow. That the only thing they needed to live was the other. 

Taking a second to think about it, that’s probably how Dabi kissed everyone he had his lips against, but if it didn’t make you lose your mind any less. Wow. You clawed at his shirt, not meaning to push it back, but there it went. Your palms skated over his shoulders, chest, back up to wrap around any part of his upper body that you could manage as he brought his mouth to your neck. Warm, wet, sloppy, hungry kisses. From your mouth all the way down to where your shirt and sweater were being jerked aside. There was a spot, just down underneath the collar of your nightshirt, on your collarbone. His teeth grazed it before his tongue did, and something…

Something felt really good. 

“You wanna make them squirm, sunshine. Before you even touch them.” His lips brushed the shell of your ear. The wall was hard against the back of your head as you closed your eyes, struggling to do anything but feel and listen. “You want them as needy as you are right now.”

“I’m not…” You started the lie, but you weren’t even sure why you were trying to combat it. Just because? Just to prove to yourself that you weren’t wrapped around his finger too tightly? 

His hand on your shorts shifted, and his fingers slid underneath your shirt. Right over your waist and up your ribs to where your bra band usually sat. Long–it’d been ages since anyone had ever touched you there. 

“No, no.” He nipped at your jaw. “Keep going. I like watching you try to lie. It’s adorable.” He didn’t take a step forward–there was nowhere for him to step. But his leg moved, and as you felt his hair tickle your cheek, there his thigh was again. Right back between your legs. Right there. “You’re not what, sunshine? Needy?”

That funny feeling that boiled in your gut flooded your senses. Stability. You needed something to hold you steady. Holding onto Dabi wasn’t nearly enough to keep yourself from falling. He was the whole reason you were falling. Deep down to the ground, knees buckling and his knee supporting your weight. And yeah, he supported your weight. He did so with a smirk you could feel on your neck and the grip of his hand falling down to your hips. 

“Say it,” he murmured. His hand gradually guided your hips along his knee. “Lie to me, sunshine. Tell me you’re not needy. Tell me this is doing nothing to you.” 

“It…it…” Your eyes felt like they were going to roll back as he continued to move your hips. Forward and back, mouth pressing to your neck as you tried to speak. “It does…it…”

You really tried to lie, but just as the words started to form, Dabi interrupted you.

“Shit, you’re so fucking cute.” 

There went your stronghold. Dabi called you cute. Never mind everything else, that was in its own category. Dabi called you cute. And it seriously sounded like he meant it. It could've had something to do with the sounds you were making or how your hips started to move on their own, taking the small movements he was giving you and making them big. But cute? That felt like the last word to describe that. 

And yet? It only increased the sensation. 

“Oh, you like that one, sunshine?” Dabi pressed his forehead against your temple. “Shit’s as basic as it gets. Being called cute’s got you all hot and bothered. Has nobody talked dirty to you before?”

Dirty talk? Nope. Not once. You hadn’t even experienced anything remotely similar to what was happening now. Not before. This…this was something else. This was jaw-dropping and…and…

You dragged yourself along his knee until good started to feel even better. You had to angle your hips a certain way to get the spot just right, but when you found it, it was hard to think about anything else other than how good it felt. In the back of your mind, you could feel Dabi’s smirk. Sense the utter satisfaction he was having because of you. What you were doing. The sounds you were making. 

If a wall had been built inside you back before you’d met Rhaya, it’d since transformed from concrete, to wood, to a chain link fence. One that started to fall away the move you moved your hips. The more Dabi’s lips went across your neck. The better and better you felt as you chased that good feeling. 

You shook your head no, unsure if he actually wanted an answer. Although not so deep down, you were fairly sure Dabi already knew the answer to his question. You'd only been with one person, and that was only twice. He surely knew the odds. 

“Fuck,” he mused, a quiet laugh joining the soft gasps left in the air. “Poor thing. Nobody’s ever told you how sweet your mouth would look around their cock then. Or that they’re wondering just how wet you are in those…” Dabi glanced down, and everything seemed to stand still as his hand skated down your side. All the way, one slow drag, to the waistband of your shorts. 

He pulled back just enough for you to have to see his face as he hooked his fingers around your shorts. You held your breath, shaking, until he pulled your shorts back and smirked down at the sight.

“...pretty white panties,” he finished. Or, so you thought. Until the band of your shorts snapped back against your stomach, and Dabi’s knee pressed up a little harder against you. “Are you, sunshine?” He ghosted his lips over yours, his smirk staying. “If I pull my leg back, you think I’ll be able to see it on my jeans?”

Nothing short of a whimper left you. What was he saying? How could he say it like it was nothing but how he normally spoke? The words came to him just as easily as breathing came to most. He didn’t even stutter or pause or have to think about what he was going to say to you next. 

“Come up with the right shit to say,” he murmured against your lips, taking his time to part your mouth with his before kissing you again. Longer. Dipping his tongue in to tease your own. “And you’ll have someone just like I have you, sunshine.”

His hand…his hand went back south. Lower. So much lower. The backs of his fingers skated over the front of your shorts, and please. You felt the word throw itself around in your head. It bounced like a racket ball and with the force of a professional player behind the racket. Around and around and around as Dabi’s light touch went right down to where his knee started to pull back. 

But…but just as you waited for him to touch where you had while watching that video, where you were certain you could feel an endless throbbing that needed to be satiated, Dabi stopped.

“You’ll have ‘em on the verge of cumming before you’ve even touched them.”

Everything came to a lurching halt as his hand came back up to your face. The harsh grip of his fingers against your cheeks moved you to look at him. Blinking a few times, you had to pull your thoughts back in order when you found him staring at you. As if he was waiting for something. A response? He hadn’t asked a question. A question? You couldn’t muster up one when fireworks were shooting off beneath your skin. 

Then, his thumb came down once more. Traced your bottom lip again. Slowly. Parted your lips and the way he moved…was he going to kiss you again? Another kiss was essential. Feeling more of him was essential. He was essential there. Now, you were starting to understand what Rhaya meant when she'd talked about the fun of finding the right partner for things. It'd feel good. No, better than good. Fantastic. 

A soft laugh snuck out of you. Dabi was right on the money. He hadn't even touched you yet, and you were feeling a lot of funny feelings that were close to pushing you over the edge. 

“Do you want to stop?” he murmured, lips hovering over yours. Your noses brushed, and your breath hitched at the contact. “Or are you still…curious, sunshine?”

Another teasing brush of his lips against yours. 

“There’s a fuck ton I could teach you.” His teeth nipped at your bottom lip. “Even just right fucking here. I’d fuck that pretty pussy right against the wall if you wanted me to.”

Not that others weren’t as experienced as Dabi, but of all people to accept help like this from, he was the best option, right? Ha. Were you trying to rationalize your lust-filled thoughts just to let yourself not feel any kind of guilt or shame for wanting it? Wanting him? But…he was a good partner if he was genuine about teaching you. He’d…he’d know. He’d be the exact kind of guy who’d show you whatever you wanted to learn. 

But…did you even know what you wanted to learn? How could you ask to be taught when you didn’t even know what to ask about?

The tip of his tongue teased your mouth, and your eyes fluttered closed. 

Whatever there was for him to do to you, you wanted him to do it. 

But could you really follow through on it? On…on all of it? 

On…on…

Dabi's knee pressed back between your legs. There it was–your undoing. The beginning of it. He pulled on the end of the yarn the sweater of your being was made from. And oh, how you felt yourself begin to go. Not quickly, but certainly not slow enough to give the whole scenario a second thought. Dabi. That was all you knew. 

“A little more,” you whispered, and the whole atmosphere in the stairwell shifted. “Show me a little more.”

Dabi’s grin was full of white, sharp teeth before he kissed you. No, devoured you again.  

“I’ll show you whatever you want, sunshine.”

There'd been a few times you'd imagined particularly unique scenarios. In bed, covers thrown off of you as you burned up beneath your clothing, eyes closed–you imagined what passion would feel like. What other places you could think of to…have fun…at. Per Rhaya's own stories–and the stories shared by her friends–some you already knew about. But imagining yourself in them was a whole different story. In the back of a car, behind a building, a bathroom at a bar or club, a friend's bed, the kitchen, the bathroom.

A stairwell had never crossed through those miniature fantasies. 

Possibly for the better. As Dabi's eyes fell, yours fluttered shut. Slowly, he unbuttoned your pajama shirt, and your sweater caught up between you and the wall. It hung partially off your shoulders, down to your elbows, left as open as your shirt was with every button undone. Until there was a valley of bare skin left beneath Dabi's hand and…and…

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip as he ran his hand over your stomach, ribs, up to the bottom of your breast, and then, there it was. Cold air smacked against your chest as he nudged your shirt open. Breasts bare. To him. To Dabi. 

"It feels cruel," he murmured, fingers coming up slowly over the bottom of your breast all the way to where your nipple was hardened into a peak. He barely even had to move his hand. The deepness of your breaths practically put you into his palm without any effort on his part. "Doing it here. In this dirty shithole." His thumb swiped over the sensitive peak, and everything went fuzzy. It just felt…so good. You'd never experimented there. Not before. Not by yourself. "Are you dirtier than I thought, sunshine?"

He lifted his head, and his lips were back on yours. They stayed with a heated kiss that only broke when his fingers pinched your nipple. Half a whimper turned into a gasp as his other hand came up and did the same to the other breast. 

“You want to get fucked here, don’t you?” Fingers still on your nipples, he tugged you a little closer. The shot of pleasure-pain mixture nearly made you fall to the floor. It did make you moan, though. A moan you’d never heard yourself make before, too. “Dirty girl.’

You didn’t have a single care about the fact that you were in the stairwell. This wasn’t some magical, sweet, rose-petals-on-the-bed moment. There was a craving in your body, and you needed it satisfied. A desperate desire you hadn’t known you’d had in you. An experience that made your head spin and your heart beat until you thought it was going to burst. 

And, if you were willing to admit it to yourself as Dabi squeezed your chest and played with your nipples like they were his own toys, being in the stairwell made you feel a certain funny way. A good way. 

"Fuck, sunshine," he whispered against your neck. "You've got perfect tits." He palmed them again. A little harder. "Whole night looking at them stuck in that costume, I wanted to tear it off and kiss them until you were creaming yourself in that tiny skirt. That fucking excuse for bottoms–that skirt didn't do shit to hide your underwear, you know that, right?" 

His mouth left dangerous kisses along your neck.

“Everyone could see how fine your ass is.” You jumped as one hand went down and groped where your shorts were pulled up high on your backside. It was barely covered anymore, and feeling Dabi’s hand there…on the bare patch of skin…. “When you were sitting on the couch, you know I could see everything?” His laugh was low and dark. Sinful was the first word you thought to describe it as. “Not just that cute cunt. You know what else I could see?”

Somehow, through the shame and humiliation, as Dabi’s hands skated over your hips, you managed to shake your head. Shrugging wasn’t in the cards. Neither was responding verbally. Not outside of the small whimpering hmm you gave. You were still reeling from the skirt being so see-through, and you hadn't noticed. And on the couch…

The sudden need for relief came without mercy. It ached–you ached. You pawed at Dabi's belt just to hold onto something. An anchor to keep you steady as his hands continued to move. Except they didn't do what they had before. They hadn't stopped. They hadn't teased. All the stars in the sky had to have shone brighter as Dabi leaned as close to you as he could, his mouth going beside your ear, and his hand going between your legs. His warm palm cupped you right between your legs. With pressure. 

Never had your underwear ever felt so wet. Wet enough to soak through, as he’d said earlier. Wet enough that he had to feel it on his hand. 

“I could see how wet you were just sitting there next to me, sunshine.” His nose grazed your cheek. “Cotton doesn’t hide anything. Poor thing, just sitting there soaked the whole movie. Aching.” He pushed the bottom of his palm up and started to move it back and forth. It was like a match being struck. “If you’d been closer, I would’ve helped you. Rhaya and Vera wouldn’t have known. Well, so long as you didn’t cum too loudly.”

He moved his palm a little lower, continuing to move it until suddenly he hit there. Right there. The spot that made you throw your arms around his neck and bury your head into his neck. He staggered as you yanked him closer, and there was that laugh of his again. 

“Sunshine,” he mused. “I’m barely even touching you. Want me to really show you how good this can feel?”

You nodded frantically. What could possibly feel better than this? This felt even better than when you’d touched yourself. This felt…phenomenal. 

“Stroke my ego, sunshine.” He continued to move his hand as it was. “Ask for me to finger-fuck you. Ask me to slide my fingers inside your cunt and fuck you until you’re begging me to let you cum. Ask me to strip you down here in this dirty-ass stairwell and fuck you against the wall.”

“D-Dabi,” you pleaded. All of that, even if you could manage to retain it as it swirled around in your head, you…you couldn’t. It’d sound wrong coming from you. It wouldn’t sound nearly as sexy as it did from his lips. “Please.” If you couldn’t say it–any of it–the next best option was to shorten it. It felt strange to say it, but there it was, slipping from your lips. “Fuck me.”

Dabi, almost comically, shrugged. “Close enough.”

He didn’t strip you. Not entirely. He shoved your shirt a little further off your shoulders so your chest stayed exposed. But when it came to your shorts, he just tugged them up higher until they were essentially underwear, and then you got the first feeling of his fingers against your…cunt. Even thinking the word felt dirty, but as Dabi curled his fingers around the crotch of your underwear and your shorts, everything felt obscenely dirty. Beyond what you thought you could handle. 

But as the cool air hit your cunt and Dabi’s fingers ran over you, over every part of you there, all you cared about was pleasure. He whispered in your ear as his fingers immediately found the spot that you’d experimented with the most. 

“So damn wet, sunshine. Fuck. Look at you.” His fingers worked quick circles. Circles that made your thighs shake and an unimaginable pleasure course through your veins. What the hell was this? Your head spun wildly as he touched you. “You’re fucking soaked. That’s two pairs of underwear you’ve ruined cause of me tonight, ain’t it?”

His mouth went to your neck as his hand went a little lower, and his fingers teased another part of you. Sensitive, squeezing, aching. 

“You should just go without them next time. It’ll make it far easier to do this.”

Two fingers slid with ease into you. Another match was struck and burning red hot as he experimentally moved his fingers. Lord, and the noises. The noises were obscene and vulgar, squelching and squishing as his fingers moved inside you. In and out. Curled. Scissored. There was a spot, too. Not the one his palm found as he put his hand flush against you, but one inside you. His fingers rubbed against it in a way that made you want to scream. A good scream. 

It translated into a moan and a yelp as you hugged him closer. 

"Oh, sunshine." You felt yourself squeeze around his fingers as he kept up both points of contact. Clit and that spot you'd never found before. That funny feeling slammed into you in a tornado that only seemed to get faster. Merciless winds tore through the landscape that was once calm inside you and threw you hurtling toward the same kind of orgasm you'd muffled into your pillow. 

It was so fast, it was almost humiliating. But it wasn't. Not until Dabi said the one thing he really, really shouldn't have. He had good intentions; you knew that. But it was really hard to do what he wanted you to when he said the exact thing that'd make you do the opposite. 

Beside your ear, in a stern, commanding voice you recognized all too well, he whispered, "fucking hold it. Don't cum yet."

Verbatim. It was verbatim from the video. The same tone of voice, too. It was one of the last lines he said before he gave you the final instructions. He had you going at yourself ruthlessly. No pauses, no slowing down. Just touching yourself at the speed and intensity that one would to make themselves cum hard and cum fast. But he hadn't given you permission yet. And he followed the command with a grunt as he fisted his cock, eyes locked on the camera, a sinister smile drawing up as if he could see through the screen at your struggle. 

But then, after fifteen or so seconds of struggle, of squirming and trying to keep the same pace without falling over the edge you were barely balancing on, he spared his watchers. He kept his grin nice and evil as he shrugged. He kept his hand on his cock and finally–finally–gave the command that let you cum. And you did, just after he did, watching him spill over his fist before you could hardly take it anymore. 

And, really, you did try to listen to him, but they just set you off. Ho-boy, did they set you off, too. That tornado wreaking havoc just burst into a thousand little splintering winds, and there you went. A hint of wetness fell down your cheeks as your head pressed against Dabi's shoulder, and inside? You fluttered around Dabi's fingers as an orgasm you'd been keeping from yourself for ages now slammed into you. Hard. And there you were, falling against Dabi as the best feeling in the world had you cumming over his fingers. 

Dabi said what you were thinking as you panted against him. 

“Wow.” He kept his fingers inside you, slowly moving them. They grazed the spot he’d been playing with the whole time, making you jolt every time. Squirming didn’t do much more than make yourself grind against him, and that just pushed your clit against his palm. “The fuck was that, sunshine?”

Your heart hammered harder and then harder still. 

“I-I…” But what? You buried your face deeper into his neck. “It just felt so good. I couldn’t help it.” 

"Don't doubt that, but…" He jerked you back by your shirt, and there were his eyes. Bright blue even in the dimly lit stairwell. And they stared right into you in a way that made everything flutter inside you. "You came real quick when I said that, sunshine." He tipped his chin up and started to move his fingers a little faster. Faster enough that it made your knees buckle, and you fell back against the wall. "You like it when I tell you what you can and can't do? Is that it?"

You nodded so frantically, needing him to believe it was simply just that. Nothing more. It was nothing more than that. Nothing more. 

“Yes,” you sputtered. “Yes, I do. I do.”

You kept your eyes closed and head back, not risking the chance of him seeing the hidden truth in them. He couldn’t know. He couldn’t. You’d never tell. Never. You couldn’t. You–

“Sunshine,” he cooed, thrusting his fingers in deeper and grinding his palm against your clit. Those bright stars you were certain were above you? You felt them. “What did I say about your ability to lie?” He licked the wet line up from your cheek and pressed his forehead against your temple. “Tell me the truth.”

The sounds coming from your cunt were even worse than before. It was hard to focus on anything else besides what was happening there, but, man, the panic. Of all the topics you wanted to avoid, even now, even when Dabi had his fingers inside you, you wanted to throw that one down a well. Anything but that.

“I…I am.” You bit your lip as you felt another building. It wasn’t possible, but it was there. So fast. So unapologetic. “It’s, um, it’s the truth, D-Dabi.”

You cursed only somewhat awkwardly when the tornado came back to wreak more havoc.

“Sunshine,” Dabi whispered, stalling his fingers and oh. That feeling just made your mouth hang open as you tried to reach for what he was purposefully keeping from you. But he didn’t budge. “How can I make every dirty fantasy come true if you’re not honest with me?” His hand shifted just slightly, and suddenly his thumb was gliding over your clit. Slowly at first, but then it picked up speed and friction. And there went your sanity–every drag made your mind sputter, legs weak, walls flutter over his fingers. 

Closer and closer he brought you. But never close enough. 

“It’s…it’s not like that,” you managed to say. Barely. And despite silent hopes that’d make him switch to a different subject, Dabi just pulled back and looked at you with curiosity. Lots of amusement, too. But curiosity. 

“It’s not?”

Your clit, throbbing for the bit more attention it'd need to make you cum, ached for you to tell him the truth. As did the spot inside you where his fingers slowly started to rub again. And your nipples, as they rubbed against his chest as he moved his whole body to finger-fuck you again. 

You couldn’t tell him.

You shook your head no. 

You couldn’t. Not unless…not unless you wanted to cum again. At the speed he wasn’t moving his fingers, it seemed like he was going to hold it hostage until you gave him some hint of truth. But…but telling him that…what would he do when he found out? He was already doing all of this with you, but this was before. Way before.  

But…

His fingers grazed that sweet spot yet again, and you had to dig your nails into his shoulders when the pleasure threw itself through you. So close, yet so far. 

A night of risks. Screw it. There was already a thick line crossed here with Dabi; why not make it thicker? Now, it was just down to how you said it. Lying was out of the question since he'd picked up on your clear omission. So you just had to skirt around the full truth without being too obvious about it. 

“I…” Well, what was the best way to say it? “I’ve…um. I’ve seen your page?”

See, you realized you could've just said that there was a video you watched where they said something like that and skirted around the fact that he was the one in it. If he put the clues together and found it out himself, sure. Whatever. But you realized that after you bluntly said that. 

And the instant the words left your mouth, Dabi’s fingers stopped. He stopped. 

Your heart plummeted into your stomach as he pulled back, and there he was, whispering your name and making you open your eyes to look at him. That…that devilish smirk and eyes that seemed to just glow. Burn. 

“You’ve seen my page?” he said softly. “Really?”

You swallowed around the knot in your throat and nodded. “Y-Yeah. Accidentally. It’s a long story. I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to pry–”

“It’s there for any curious eye, sunshine.”

"–I just heard the name of the site and somehow ended up on your page, and the next thing I knew, my curiosity got the better of me. And…and I just kept looking at stuff. But not everything–not everything. Just a few things.”

The words left you in a sputtering mess, stuttering through most, looking down at his mouth since it was easier than looking him in the eye. He continued to smirk. No, grin. He had a massive grin that only seemed to inch a little wider the more you babbled. But you needed him to know you weren't trying to pry into whatever he did to make some extra money. It was his decision; you'd just…let curiosity take hold under a part of you that was vastly under-discovered. 

“But there was one video I did watch–”

His mouth twitched. “I know it.” 

His free hand started at your chin and swiped down over your jaw, cupping it and keeping your eyes on him. Moved them higher until you met his gaze. 

“So you do like being told what to do." He stepped closer and started moving his fingers faster. Just like before. Your mouth fell open, and a moan slipped out, joining the rest of the vulgar noises in the stairwell. "Did you touch yourself while watching it?"

Your next breath came out through your teeth, but you nodded. Dabi’s fingers hit your sweet spot exactly how you realized you liked it. A small growl of a groan left him. 

“You follow every instruction I gave? Listened just like the sweet, good girl that you are?”

Again, you nodded. 

“Oh, sunshine." His hand slid down, but it didn't go to your chest or shoulder. It stopped on your neck. His fingers splayed, and then there was a light pressure. It made your eyes flutter closed, but it…it felt…good? You could still breathe. The added sensation, joined with his fingers, just felt so unexpectedly good. "You should've told me. I would've played that game with you dozens of times already. Fuck.” 

Your walls fluttered once more around his fingers. 

"For being so honest with me, I'll give you this one." His thumb rubbed your clit a little faster, and his other hand added a hint more pressure to your throat. "Cum nice and hard for me again."

You did. Oh, you did. There was no delay in it. It was just there the second he said it. And as you pressed your head back and moaned, there was the fear that you might’ve woken the floor beneath you up. Your moan wasn’t inherently loud or obnoxious or awkward, but it carried in the empty stairwell. Ricocheted off all the walls and went as far down as it did up. 

“That’s my girl,” Dabi whispered. He slowly released his grip on your throat and pulled his fingers out of you. They, as he waited for you to peel your eyes open, went right to his mouth, where he groaned in satisfaction as his tongue dragged over them. “Taste as fucking sweet as you are, sunshine.”

He inched closer, and his mouth brushed yours. 

“Next time, I’m getting a real taste of that pretty cunt.” A spark went off in your gut. “You ever been tongue-fucked, sunshine?”

His belt clinked as he undid it with one hand. You miraculously managed to shake your head no as you watched him undo it. 

“Poor thing. I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.” He unbuttoned the top and tugged down on the zipper. “Do you want me to fuck you?” There was the faintest hint of what you could only assume was you on his lips as he kissed you. Slowly. “Want me to show you how fucking fantastic it feels to get fucked right?”

Lord help you, you nodded. You tried to take a second to think about it, tried to even feel any kind of shame because of where you were. But as you stared down at his black boxers, at the image of his cock you had burned into your mind, you needed it. You needed him to fuck you.

Needed him.

You nodded again.

And Dabi? He looked beyond ecstatic. Before you could really blink, there it was. His underwear was pulled down, his pants were fully open, and there it was. Right in front of you. You were reaching for it without prompt, and Dabi just smirked as you reached down and wrapped your hand around him. Hard. Warm. Silky soft. 

"Real thing's always better, ain't it?" He grabbed your wrist, guiding your hand up and down his shaft. "Get to actually feel it."

You blinked at it, not bothering to answer. Dabi had to already know your answer. 

That was going inside of you. It wasn't small, and it was going to go inside of you. That was leaving your hand as Dabi pulled it off, and there he went, guiding it up to your cunt and gliding it over you. Even just that sent you. That alone was hard to wrap your mind around, but then he hooked a hand underneath your right leg, and he lifted and pinned it back against the wall. A tight grip kept it in place as his other hand…

There was a light pressure against your entrance, and you glanced down to catch him slowly pressing in. Not too fast, not too slow–already covered in all of your wetness, he went in far easier than any of the other times you’d attempted sex. You took Dabi like it was nothing. Well, nothing but some filling feelings and a bit of stretching. And then, there he was, pressed against you, smirking, sighing, fully inside you.

Dabi had his cock fully inside you, and he felt incredible.

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered. 

“Careful,” he answered. “Hearing you curse is its own tease. Hearing it while inside you?” His mouth was back on your neck. “You feel so fucking good, sunshine. Look at how good you took my cock. Fucking perfect.”

Yeah, that sent your head into a tornado as dangerous as the ones from earlier. Wrapping your head around those words was an impossible task when his hips started moving. Cause he was a little less gentle here. Not rough. Nothing hurt. But the way he rutted into you, against that spot, he was clearly aware of what he was doing. And by the third thrust, you were a mess of moans and gasps. 

Cause nobody was playing it up on his site–Dabi had you into a puddle of yourself before you could even comprehend it. He knew how to fuck, that much was clear. And you were on the wonderfully receiving end of that. 

“Oh, fuck–fuck.” He reangled his hips, and suddenly his cock was dragging along the same spot his fingers had been. “Dabi–fuck, it feels so good.”

His laugh came out somewhat shaky, and his next breath, too. But for as shaky as it was, it was just as low and dark and sinful. Like the devil's. Like he knew he was corrupting your mind by touching you. And that only just spurred that funny feeling that was spreading beyond your lower stomach. It resonated inside you, right where he was thrusting into you, and you clawed at his back, holding him closer. As close as you could get him. 

He was inside you. You still couldn’t believe it. He was fucking inside you. He was inside you, fucking you. Dabi was fucking you. It didn’t matter how many times you repeated or phrased it–you still couldn’t believe it. But it’s the truth. And it was magnificent. 

“Good,” he purred after a soft grunt left him. “Fuck, sunshine. Fuck. Feel even better than I imagined. Goddamn it.”

His fingers dug unapologetically into your leg as his hips rutted forward a little faster and a little deeper. There was no wrapping your head around that sentiment, either. Cause apparently, that, with the added fact that Dabi was fucking you like this was some real-life porno, was enough to break you. You knew the statistics; you'd done research on that behalf. And even Rhaya had given you her own miniature sex education lesson once upon a time. So you knew how common it was to not cum like this. But that funny feeling from earlier intensified after Dabi spoke, and just hearing that he’d imagined it before sent you tumbling over the edge.

Next thing you knew, you were stuttering out his name like it was a plea, and you were cumming. Hard. Right on his cock. In a dirty stairwell in the middle of the night, your friends downstairs, with your best friend’s oldest friend. 

Fuck.

It felt fucking phenomenal. 

“Goddamn it, sunshine,” Dabi grunted, almost sounding angry. “Can’t fucking do that. Fuck. You know how good that fucking felt?” His hips started to lose some of the rhythm they had, and he went a little deeper with every thrust. “You came on my cock just like that. Fuck.”

Just as Dabi rutted deep, there was a sudden emptiness, and you glanced down just in time. His fist went over his cock, and he pumped his shaft, brows knit, sweat keeping his hair matted to his forehead. A few pumps was all it took. He groaned, falling with his weight on the hand still holding up your leg. 

He painted your cunt in cum as he let out a guttural moan. 

Woah. You stared down at yourself, at him. Watched his hand languidly pump his cock. He…he had…you both…. Your eyes felt heavy with sleep already as your leg was lowered to the ground. No more balancing. No more of his weight pressing you against the wall. Only just his hand coming down to your underwear, pulling it back to how it was. Your shorts, too. 

He put a hand on your cheek as he tucked himself away one-handed, eyes flicking up to hold your gaze. But he said nothing, and neither did you. It’d spoil the moment. The silence that felt like a balloon one breath away from bursting. You were still trapped under the veil of the moment–not yet back in your apartment, your bedroom, where you were getting closer to realizing the gravity of what you’d done. 

Dabi stepped back, righting the rest of his clothes, but his eyes never left you. Any part of you. He watched carefully as you buttoned up your shirt, pulled your sweater back on, and fixed the uncomfortable mess that was beneath your shorts. Well, as best as you could. 

He smirked as you started to walk toward the stairs, but the first step down made you twitch; it was a weird reminder of how empty you now were. In a way that made your cheeks burn.

In a more shameful way, as you took the next step, and the one after that–because you wanted more.

“Careful,” he murmured when you nearly slipped on a step. “Don’t go hurting yourself, sunshine. Can’t have that, can we?”

He kept his hand on your back after that. The whole time. It made your cheeks burn even hotter. Hotter still when he sauntered up beside you to walk down your hallway. He didn’t exactly overwhelm you, but it all did. The whole evening. Every step was a reminder of how good you’d felt in the stairwell. How good Dabi had made you feel. 

How the hell were you supposed to face him now? In everyday conversations? In the morning?

The door to your apartment cracked open. There was the pullout couch and, more importantly, the door to Rhaya's room. Rhaya and Vera–were you supposed to tell them? Were you supposed to tell anyone? Did you even want to? How did one handle a situation like this? And…and Dabi. Were you supposed to act like this never happened or…?

You stopped outside the bathroom door when you heard footsteps continue behind you. A bit of humiliation crawled through you since you were at the bathroom door, but you couldn’t go to bed like this. But Dabi just had a soft smirk as you turned to face him, and it didn’t take long to realize why he’d followed you. 

And it wasn’t just to talk.

You wrinkled his shirt beneath your hands the second he took a step toward you. It was easy to let yourself press back against the closed door. Especially when his mouth was right back to yours. Softer than in the stairwell. Slower, too. Like he was trying to make you squirm and pant just from his lips. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, sunshine,” he murmured against your lips. 

“D-Dabi,” you sputtered, trying to wrap your head back around everything. “Rhaya…?”

“We both know you can’t lie for shit, sunshine. Tell her if you wanna tell her.” His mouth quirked into a smile while his hands skated over the front of your shirt. Light squeezes went to your chest during their pass. “But now’s probably a good time to tell you that I was definitely not supposed to have done that with you. Made her a whole fucking promise about it after we met.” He pinched your still-hard nipples while pivoting to press a kiss to your jaw. “She figured I’d be too much for you to handle. I think she underestimated how fucking needy you are, sunshine.”

His voice dropped to a whisper so quiet, you almost had to strain to hear it. 

“Or how badly you want my cock.”

His hand skated between your legs before he was suddenly stepping back. The sudden shock of the touch against every sensitive nerve between your legs made you jolt, and then the loss of his heat made you yearn to reach out for him. More. Needed more. And maybe you were playing into exactly what he was saying, but you’d already told him you’d gotten off to one of his videos. Couldn’t get much more embarrassing than that. 

Still, you made yourself paw for the doorknob, nodding your head in the process. 

“I…I won’t tell her.” You turned the knob, warm beneath your touch. “Not yet, anyway. Not right now.”

Dabi shrugged. “Your choice, sunshine.”

He stepped back, eyeing you in the process. And it wasn’t until you stepped into the bathroom when he finally turned around. Then you were split–a closed door clicking softly shut behind you. His soft footsteps echoed down the hallway as you closed your eyes, listening to your breathing, to him, to all the sounds in the apartment. And the sounds that weren’t there. 

“Wow.” You stared at your reflection from your spot. How mussed your appearance was. How ravished you looked. How you still seemed to yearn for more. Tired eyes blinked at you as you walked toward the sink, turning the hot water on. Waiting. “Just…wow.”

You eventually fell back into bed, the whole night swirling around you in a tired wave of excitement. Adrenaline that wouldn’t reach you. Not yet. Not until morning–not that you knew that as you wrapped up in your covers, fresh in new pajamas and underwear. You’d slept with Dabi. You’d slept with Dabi on a whim. In public…adjacent. Against the wall. And he…three times. He made you cum three times.

You rolled over and closed your eyes–you’d taken more than just a few risks. And now? 

There was a loud bang outside your room that made you jolt awake. Laughter followed by some shushing carried through your closed door. Then, more banging. Clanking. The scent of pancakes and sausage. Coffee, too. Rhaya's unexpected laugh came through an attempt at muffling herself, and you pushed up from your bed, staring at yourself in your mirror. Wow. Tired and…and ravished, still. Satisfied. Already feeling those funny feelings as you thought about last night. Thought about Dabi. 

Except, as you glanced at your door again, reaching for your phone to unplug it and check emails, you had to face the facts. You had to face Rhaya, Vera, and Dabi when you left your room. You had to act like last night hadn’t happened. Which, so long as they didn’t suspect anything, shouldn’t be too hard, right?

Right?

But then you glanced down at your phone, and your heart stopped. It shuddered in your chest as a shiver went down your spine. A familiar email popped up. The familiar logo, the familiar email address, the familiar username you’d typed in one too many times into the search bar. 

You've been gifted a one-year subscription!

It was written in big, bold letters at the top of the email. You read them over and over again, heart picking back up into a thunderous pace. You gripped the edge of your bed as you scrolled down even further. Down to where there was a little message from the anonymous gifter. 

“Started posting again. Just in case you were still…curious. But you have to tell me which ones make you cum the hardest, sunshine.” 

You lost the battle to avoid clicking on his link, and since you were still logged into the site, well–you automatically accepted the gift. One whole year of Dabi's content, free. From him. And as the page loaded, you listened to Rhaya and Vera not-so-quietly joke about something from last night. But it was far off in the distance as the newest video of Dabi's page loaded. His wicked smile was barely in frame as he sat back, legs parting, cock hard in his boxers. 

“Let’s play a game,” he mused, dragging his hand over his bulge. “Let’s see if you can last longer than me.”

A loud knock against your bedroom door made you jolt upright, and your door swung open before you could do much more than turn your screen off and press your legs together. Caught echoed in your head as you whipped to turn a good morning smile at whoever was there, and the surge of adrenaline that hit you nearly made you shiver. 

"Morning, sunshine," Dabi mused, head leaning against your door, hand still on your knob. "Rhaya and Vera made pancakes." His rich blue eyes scanned over you, and you could see him replaying every last dirty detail from last night. "You coming?"

Oh, how you nodded. If there'd been any doubt about not getting caught up in Dabi's charm, it was gone. He had you in a vice grip, one you couldn't risk getting caught in. But it was too late. When he turned that wicked smile on, eyes dropping to your phone for just a second, before he stepped back, you knew you were in far more trouble than you could handle. And all of the nasty mix of emotions in your stomach was being ignored as you slid off your bed, taking a quick second to exit his site just in case Rhaya needed your phone for anything. 

“Yeah,” you murmured, following him as he leaned back. “I’m coming.”

He let you walk past him, following you with his head. When you passed by him, he added another little whisper. One that hung over you like a secret blanket you couldn’t let anyone know about. You wouldn’t let anyone know about. Not yet. 

“That’s my girl.” 

Three words. Three words that made your step falter, and your teeth dig into your bottom lip. 

You glanced back at him as he followed you out of your room. Now–you took a deep breath. Now, you just had to survive breakfast. And then…then you’d figure things out from there. Like how you’d lie to Rhaya about last night.  

And what the hell was going to happen between you and Dabi now?

But as you sat down at the table, one seemed far easier than the other to deal with. 

Well, sort of.

But hey, it was a side effect of taking risks.

[iadryyz]

[enbybutchbf]

cockwarming after intense fucking because you aren’t ready to pull out of her yet >>>>>

[darkly-desire]

[fueledbycoffeeandgrace]

[hwa-sa7e7-elhwa-8lab]

[theheroineexpedition]

[masterxdanx]

[missfullerfigurex2]

Date night

[d-i-a-m--0--n-d]

[boredom-is-a-burden]

Calming her mind..

[cnalife2]

need 🫠

[choko-lates-choka]

[let--there-be--love]

Pull me closer

Skin to skin

Speak desire

As you slide deep in

[artandshadows]

[occhirossi]

touch

[aliters]

[frozenrope69-3]

Whisper how you need to feel me inside you and grind til it slips in…

[sesizzligindendarbe]

[atenablogs-deactivated20190301]

Io il buongiorno oggi lo vedo così…

Atena

[evolvinggreywolf]

My entire mind, body and soul feels this . There’s nothing more satisfying than spending time together. Wrapped up in one another. Unrushed. 2 naked bodies connected together as one. Present in the moment. Unapologetically vulnerable and open with one another. Slowing down until the outside world doesn’t exist. Being present in the moment, choosing each other without distraction, baring ourselves to one another. Not just physically, but emotionally, without fear. Open, vulnerable and trusted. Where the only limits are the limits of our imaginations. It’s a quiet intimate connection where there’s no destination, nothing needs to be proven, rushed through or explained to anyone outside the this space and time, Just 2 people meeting one another’s wants, needs and desires in this moment in time. Unapologetically affectionate, intentional and together as one soul.