Same Old Song
touya x reader – suggestive content, commitment issues, hint of jealousy, and lack of communication, giving the world a little angst cause we all know this boy has none of his shit together, villain!reader, afab!reader same old song from the weeknd trilogy to all my xos that want to know that made this all real, be kind this is my first work after 6 years of not writing....
Perhaps you should have listened your gut three months ago when this whole ordeal began. Dabi was never one for routine, for stability or permanence. It started as a simple flirt after all, innocent comments that Dabi made just to get on your nerves, to test your resolve and serendipitously make your face scrunch up if he got too close to the sun. But his heart was his Achille’s Heel—he knew it since he was young. So, when his mouth got too far ahead of him and his heart leaped out of his chest to grasp at whatever little attention you were offering, he knew he was in trouble.
“Yeah? And what about girls like me?” you asked, upturned eyebrow interrogating his useless heart. Damn his big mouth for opening sometimes…
You both were at the living area of the hideout, him sitting by the window while you were tidying up alone, despite the myriad of requests you made that he would get off his ass–and off his high horse–and help you at least once.
“Like I said, you’re all the same old song. Too caught up in your little fairy-tale of rainbows and unicorns and shit,” he murmured the last part through his hand, placing it over his scarred lips in thought.
“And, let me guess—you can fix that for me?” you scoffed and turned around to face him properly, dropping the throw you had neatly folded on the sofa.
“It wouldn’t hurt to try, would it? I mean you look… available.” Dabi made a gesture with his hand, grinning like a cheshire cat as his cerulean eyes followed the line down your figure, from your face, to your hair, and down to your crossed arms framing your chest. He didn’t like you, he should remind himself. You were just an itch to be scratched, that’s all. Dabi enjoyed setting you off, making you bite with every comment he ever made whether it was true or defamation, which made sharing the space with him specifically extraordinarily difficult—especially when he got in one of these moods during missions.
“Whatever, keep dreaming,” you sighed and dismissed him with a roll of your eyes.
But he wasn’t going to have that, was he?
Dabi slid off the windowsill, leaving his discarded coat to pool on the floor due to his movement, and stalked your footsteps to the bar, cornering you against the mahogany counter. His grafted arms enclosed your hips to the small area left between him and the bar while his chin grazed your shoulder, his lips a hair’s width away from trailing your ear—one wrong move and you would press right against him.
“You can’t lie to a liar, sweetheart…” he murmured lowly, yet he kept his eyes away from you, lest his reflection on the nearby appliances gave away his desire. “You can run away, but we all know how this song and dance ends…”
Your heart was hammering in your chest. Every hair on your body was standing at attention, goose skin protruding wherever his scarred arms had incidentally touched you for a moment, and you couldn’t fathom how it’d feel to have his ruinous hands on you. His thumb and index were teasing the line of your shirt; not tugging or pulling, just simply caressing it with the pads of his fingers. One wrong move and he could burn it off you, and fuck, was that an idea…
“Getting distracted a little?” Dabi asked, grinning from ear to ear as he moved to press closer to you from behind, his lips ever closer to your jawline while his fingers now pinched the hem of your shirt and tugged ever so lightly.
“As if!” you huffed in irritation and pushed his hands off before making your escape to your room, leaving him behind at the bar he had no choice but to lean on now.
Dabi was dangerous, but you were too, weren’t you? You were capable, and strong… A little naïve, sure, but that wasn’t your fault. He could fix you. Teach you just how mean he and the world could be. All of this was child’s play, little games Dabi played just to get on your nerves and make you squirm, make you look at him and see Dabi just like the world saw him. But Touya wanted you to see more. Perhaps that naivety you held for the world, the hope that all of you were fighting for something greater than change was what irked him. Because Touya wanted that longing look in your eyes to be directed at him. Touya wanted your eyes, your fears, and your fleeting heart all his.
Dabi had acquired that, however. Three whole months of annoying you, flirting with you and tempting you, and yet he finally monopolized your attention.
“Wait–“ you gasped as he shoved you against his door, haphazardly closing it behind you after already losing his grip on the handle once. He attached his lips to yours again without wasting time to wait for your brain to catch up. How could he waste his time when he had exactly what he wanted right in front of him?
Dabi’s lips pressed against yours harshly, and with his free hand gripping your chin, he forced your mouth open so your tongues could meet, tangling with each other and meeting like waves in a tempo he set and hoped he could keep up until the night was over. He spent too long waiting, too long chasing behind you for scraps; this is the least you could do for him. He gave you his attention. Wasn’t that what women wanted?
“Dabi, wait—”
“Hell no,” he groaned and pressed his body against yours, pinning you to the door and forcing you to push lightly against his chest so that you wouldn’t be crushed under his vigor. His hand trailed down from your chin, following the line of your neck and reaching your waist eagerly, pulling you completely against him as he felt your own palm slip to his hair. His flames hurt less than your hands when they consumed him. Your gorgeous lips weren't any better for him either.
“I’m serious…” you whispered against his lips and tugged at his hair to pull him away, earning a low moan from him, but it did nothing to deter him from tempting you more.
“Aw… Princess having second thoughts? Thought you were sure of it this time.” He grinned; his chin tilted up due to the way you had gripped his hair. His words made you huff again, with your nostrils flaring in irritation, and he’d give anything to see this every day. Your lips shiny and red, eyes clouded and unfocused while your nose scrunched in frustration… A sight to behold, truly.
“I will get the hell out and leave if you don’t shut up, I’m so serious,” you growled at him, scrutinizing him with a look full of venom.
“Keep looking at me like that. It suits you.” He hummed, eyes trailing from your eyes to your lips before making another attempt to kiss you only to be tugged back by his hair. This was starting to get a little irritating...
“You are such an ass! Would it kill you to be even just a little bit vulnerable?” You demanded and pushed him further away from you despite how much you wanted to lean back in, to feel his hands back on your waist and his mouth devouring your own.
“Vulnerable? Aren’t you asking for a lot already?” he scoffed and shrugged your hands off him, your question having offended Dabi enough to shake him out of the haze of desire.
“I told you already, sweet thing. The real world doesn’t care about your little daydream.” Dabi smiled patronizingly and held your chin in his hand as if he were inspecting your face, yet his expression showed anything but. He was watching you intently, blue eyes glowing in the darkness of his room, and all you could do was freeze in their searing heat.
“And yet, you keep hoping… I mean, it’s almost pathetic, no? What’s next? You want me to get down on one knee? Save myself for marriage?” he continued, pouting as he stepped closer to you once more.
He might have overestimated you, thinking he could finally get you out of his system without needing to keep you in his bed forever. Because Dabi didn’t do forever. Dabi was a fleeting face, born to live and die as he came in this world; through fire and heat. And if he burned you in the middle of it, perhaps that was your own pigheadedness.
And that was exactly why you had kept yourself from giving in for months, because Dabi kept tempting day by day. Little by little he wormed himself in your heart just so he could force himself out when he so much as wanted to and burn what was left of your heart in the explosion. Whether it was his hands on your waist as he passed by you, guiding you to his side on instinct, or complaining whenever the League ordered sushi and giving you every little piece of fish that assaulted his sense of smell because you liked it, or sitting next to you on the sofa after ticking you off all day just to see your reactions, only to fall asleep as quickly as he angered you... Dabi was a hypocrite, and you shouldn’t have been alone with him at all. You shouldn’t have ran to him when he was missing for three whole days after a outing-gone-wrong, shouldn't have worried for a man that was a ticking bomb.
You shouldn’t be here, is what you realized, and without wasting any more time you twisted the handle of his door and fled to wherever you could, so long as it was away from Dabi.
He wasn’t going to hold it against you, he thought as he slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers, looking at the periodically moving door in front of him. He was aware that girls like you got attached, but it was of no importance. You’d be back in the end, because he knew your buttons now. He knew how you whimpered when his tongue met yours, how your body quivered when he held your waist ever so tightly. You’d be back and he’d finally get you off his mind. Dabi wouldn’t have to keep glancing at you from the corner of his eye when you laughed at Spinner, or brought Shigaraki his dinner to his room and yelled at him to pick up his things. Dabi wouldn’t have to keep looking for you instinctively whenever he came back from scouting for new members.
Dabi wouldn’t have to keep thinking you didn’t see him, because you would be able to see him for Touya; for the boy that wanted to have you but could not allow himself the chance to hold you for a minute longer, because what would you do–sweet, caring and naïve as you were–when he finally left you for good to complete his life’s purpose? Whatever would you do if you realized he knew this from the start and still begged for your attention? Still hoped you would keep your sweet eyes on him and sang the same old song for him?
You’d be back. He’d make sure of it.
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