Staying In

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Staying In

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Summary: You get sick and Dabi takes care of you

Pairing: Dabi/Gen Reader

Content Warning: SFW, Fluff, SickFic, Soft Dabi

Word Count: 1k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is the 7th part of 12 fics for a 12 Days of Christmas event. Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Prompt: Staying In

My Masterlist

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You wake up warm, almost uncomfortably so, and slightly delirious.

The heat would be normal, what with your furnace of a boyfriend wrapped around you like a koala, if it wasn't the beginning of winter.

And because it's the beginning of winter, you got caught in the first snowfall last night on the way home from work.

And now your nose is stuffy, your skin is clammy and you feel cold enough to be shivering yet hot enough to be sweating.

You can't control the loud, full-body sneeze that escapes you, waking up Dabi in the process.

He looks down at you blearily, patting your head sleepily, and you must look truly miserable because instead of a complaint at the knee to the stomach you know he recieved, he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Morning baby," he murmurs against your sweaty forehead. His voice is deep and raspy from sleep, and you melt that bit more into him as you usually do when you hear it.

"Morning." You croak out. Your throat is sore and feels like you swallowed sandpaper, and because of the sneeze, your head is now pounding and your limbs ache.

Burying your face in your pillow, you groan miserably at the pain, which wakes him fully.

You feel a warm hand guide you back and press to your forehead, then your neck. "Shit baby, you're burning up.", you can hear the concern in his voice, and it's very sweet, but all you can focus on is the uncomfortable heat seeping into your skin from his touch that you usually can't get enough of.

Squirming away, you force yourself up. "'M fine, I'll just take some meds. I gotta get to work." It comes out nasally, your voice somehow already worse, and your vision spins, but you sit up anyway.

Every movement hurts, and your eye is twitching from the headache, but you still try.

Key word, try, because Dabi almost immediately grabs you and pulls you back to lie down.

"Dumbass, you're not going anywhere in that state." He rolls his eyes as he gets up.

"But—" you begin to protest, struggling to sit up again, but he cuts you off, his pointer finger pushing you back down by the forehead.

"But nothing. You're sick. You can barely stand. You're staying home. Now be a good little patient and stay here while I get you some meds and something to eat, okay?" He barely waits for a response before he's already leaving.

You sigh, giving up, because you know he's right, and you feel really shitty. You won't be any good to do anything.

Gathering whatever little strength you have, you mentally prepare yourself for having to call in sick because your boss is a little bitch and you know it.

After a far too long call in your opinion, and hearing the horrible, croaky state of your voice, she reluctantly grants you the day off.

By the time Dabi comes back in with a glass of water and some meds, your headache has gotten worse from the light of your phone and her grating, nagging voice, and now you're extra irritated.

Downing them, you thank him. He rubs your cheek and you lean into the touch; the warmth now actually feeling nice on your clammy skin. Being sick is so fucking weird."Anything else, Dolly? You want some soup?" his voice is soft as he speaks, a small consideration for your headache, and you smile up at him. "I love you."

He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "I'll take that as a yes. I love you too, baby."

Tucking you back in, he murmurs, "Get some more rest. I'll wake you when it's done." You go easily, drifting back to sleep.

*****

When you wake up again, it's to the muted scent of mouthwatering chicken noodle soup.

The worst of the pain has dulled thanks to the meds, but you still feel sore all over.

Dabi momentarily rests the tray on the nightstand to help you sit up, stacking the pillows behind your back for support, before giving you the tray of soup and a glass of orange juice.

Taking a spoonful, the soup is heavenly to your ailing body and tastebuds, warming you from the inside out.

"Mm, where'd you order it from?", you ask, shoving another spoonful into your mouth.

His brows furrow, head tilting to the side in that adorable way that reminds you of a cat. "I made it." He replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You pause mid eating.

“You...made it for me?” you're a bit perplexed, because to your knowledge, he can't cook for shit, and this is downright divine.

It's not what you would expect from the villain, especially with the way he lived up until recently, but from the way the so called "heartless, monster of a villain" people think of him as, loves you so effortlessly, so perfectly, you really should've known to expect the unexpected from him.

Dabi just scoffs, shooting you a pointed look. “Takeout soup is crap. This’ll actually help.” then, quieter, he says, "It's my mom's recipe."

Your eyes soften, setting the spoon into the half eaten soup and placing your hand over his on the bed. "It's delicious, thank you."

He looks away, a familiar faint dusting of pretty pink on the healthy skin of his cheeks, nodding jerkily.

You smile gently, going back to finish the soup.

You might be sick with something nasty, might not be able to get kisses from your loving boyfriend to avoid passing it on, might be losing out on some money, but you're happy.

It's cold outside, only going to get colder as the days go by, but you're warm in all the ways that matter, inside and out, because you're with the love of your life, loved and cared for, and so very cozy.

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Hoarded Treasure

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Summary: For safety, you end up in a dragon's cave. Will he let you out now though?

Pairing: Dragon Dabi/ Human Fem Reader

Content Warning: SFW(?), Being chased, Blood & Murder (side characters, not you), Kidnapping kinda, Technically Pre Slash

Word Count: 2.4k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is for a Halloween Challenge in one of the communities here on Tumblr. I used four prompts from the challenge, plus my own for funsies, so I'll be posting every Thursday up to and including Halloween. This was the last prompt itself, so one more to go!

Prompt: Dragon & Gone Missing

Enjoy!💖

My Masterlist

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Your breath puffs out in front of you as you run deep in the mountains.

You were on your way back home to the palace when your carriage was attacked by bandits. They looted everything and killed everyone else while you and your personal guard escaped, though he soon joined the dead while protecting you.

So now, you run for your life, because death is nipping at your heels.

You can still hear them in the distance, gradually getting closer, and you know you don't have much more time.

The night is cold, and the only light provided is from the shining full moon.

The moonlight allows you to vaguely identify a cave laying at the top of the mountain.

Anything can be in that cave, from wild animals to the feared dragon, that has been terrorizing the country for centuries, you know to live in these woods, but anything may be better than being captured by those men.

You skid to a halt as the massive cave entrance looms in front of you, yawning open like the maw of a beast. You take a second to catch your breath, head swiveling around, looking out for the criminals, or any better options, before making your way into the cave.

The entrance is cold, the walls even more so, illuminated slightly by the moon. But as you move in deeper, it isn't long until the moonlight fades, and the air around you warms, beginning to smell strongly of earth and smoke and ash.

With no source of light, you guide yourself forward with your hands along the warming walls. Your footsteps, even as soft as you try to make them, seem loud in the silent cave, but not enough to cover the sounds of something grating against stone.

You just hope it's not the men chasing you.

Even as deep within the cave as you are by now, there seems to be light reflecting along the walls not too far in front of you.

You don't know whether or not that's a good thing, but you have no choice but to go forward.

As you approach where you see the reflections, you feel the texture of the wall change. Where it was once rough stone, it is now smoothe and warm, much warmer than before, with the texture of marble; the obsidian walls shimmering with an iridescent sheen.

But then the wall itself moves.

As you creep closer, squintimg, you gasp as you realize that they're scales, moving past the tunnel you're in.

And you accept that your luck is truly horrible, because you ran from monsters disguised as men, only to run straight into a monster without that mask.

The creature slithering by can be none other than the dragon.

You can only stare in horror as the beast stills, realizing far too late that your gasp of surprise was far too loud, and the dragon is now aware of your presence.

You stagger back on weak legs as it begins to move again, faster now, turning around in a circle.

Eyes wide, you watch as the dragon turns to face you. The black scales shimmer like an oil slick, the jaw and down the entire torso, is a dark purple. The same pigmentation is beneath its blue eyes, the swirls of azure like gems with the way they shine, like flames with the way they burn into your very soul; the already slitted pupils turning to mere pins as its gaze locks onto you.

But with its head alone twice the size of your body, it can't easily crawl inside the tunnel you're in, though that brings very little comfort. It huffs out a plume of smoke, making you tremble, and then its form warps, twisting and shrinking until—

The smoke dissipates, leaving the tunnel clear to show the walls behind where the dragon once stood to be lined with torches, illuminating the area.

A man stands in the dragon's place, stalking closer as you stare in fear and confusion. The man is tall, easily a foot or two taller than you, broad and strong and entirely naked. Hair the same colour of the dragon's scales, falls artfully above the piercing turquoise of his eyes. Horns curl up from his hairline, the exact same colour and shape as the dragon's had been, and large learthery wings flutter at his back. Everything about him is large, from his broad shoulders, to his muscles, to the thick bulge between his legs.

Heavy bootfalls and clanging snap you out of it. You look back to where you came from, seeing the grinning group of men sauntering your way.

Though, with their focus on you, they don't see the dragon...man....creature in front of you, still looking at you with a hot intensity, his head cocking to the side at the new sounds.

You scramble to your feet, absolutely deciding that the creature is the better option and shuffling closer to it.

"Aww, the lil princess is an awful far bit from home, yeah? How 'bout we have some fun?" He steps forward.

A deep growl stops him in his tracks, freezing his blood.

Finally taking notice of the creature, they shift into defensive stances, swords raised.

The creature's steps are slow as he snarls at them, hands curling into claws; sharp talon like black nails glinting in the low light.

One man, the leader, barely raises his sword to attack, before his throat is ripped open with a slash, blood spraying.

He falls with a heavy thud.

You slap you hand over your mouth and swallow a scream at the swift death before you, not wanting to draw attention, because you don't know if you're safe from the same fate.

Yells of anger bounce off of the walls as the four other men charge to avenge their leader, only to be met with the same fate or worse.

You clench your eyes and jaw, and cover your ears, not wanting to witness the carnage, even as you can't help but feel relieved.

Because whatever the creature decides to do to you, you doubt it can be worse than what those men were planning.

As the last scream dies off in a wet gurgle, you slowly peel your eyes open.

You glance up to see the haunting image of his back to you, wings and tail flapping and swaying lightly, glittering in the low light, as he brings his bloody hand to his face, licking a stripe up his arm to collect a trickle of it.

A whimper escapes you at that, which draws his attention to you again and he begins to approach you.

You stumble back, raising your hand in a futile attempt to keep him back, and the dragon simply grabs your wrist in a firm but surprisingly painless grip, though it's claws do press dangerously close against your skin.

His expression is eerily blank as he moves your hand out of the way as he gets closer, and cold dread settles heavy in your gut, because oh, you're going to die.

At least this way, your dignity may stay intact.

The dragon grips your chin, tugging you forward, sharp claws digging into your jaw as he tilts your face to examine you. Fear paralyzes you, and you can only whimper quietly as the dragon peers at you.

You don't doubt that he's deciding how best to kill you. You tear up at the idea, realizing you never got to say your goodbyes, with no one to know where you are. This is so far off from your path, they'd all think you just vanished.

The dragon rumbles lowly, his expression morphing into something like satisfaction, and he begins to drag you deeper into the cave system. You scream and thrash and punch at him as hard as you can, but with your pathetic human strength, doubly so when tired, the dragon doesn't even seem mildly inconvenienced.

You go limp with defeat and begin to cry, accepting your fate. You didn't think you would actually run into the dragon in the first place, and now you have no choice but to pay for your stupidity. The only bright side of all of this is that you hadn't fallen into the hands of those men. You just know it would be much worse.

You stumble in surprise as, after several winding hallways, the dragon brings you into a part of the cave almost the size of a castle. It looks like the inside of one too, with staircases and walkways and rooms carved into the walls, illuminated by massive hearths around the room.

But most impressive is the sheer amount of gold.

The whole room is filled to the ceiling with treasures of all sorts, from golden cups and jewelry and polished weapons, to books and bolts of expensive fabric, of luxurious silks to sheepskin, not to mention the piles of currency and gemstones stacked like hills in the corner to your left.

The resulting evidence of hundreds of years of pillaging is intimidating to say the least.

The dragon sets you down in one of the dips of that sea of gold and begins rifling through the treasure. You immediately make a frankly pitiful attempt to run, but he grabs you and slams you back down with one hand, without even looking.

You stay still after that.

Watching as he paws through his treasures, you sit anxious and confused, because surely he wouldn't need some specific weapon to kill you when he himself is a weapon, but then he starts holding up gems, pieces of jewelry, and scraps of fabric to you before huffing and tossing them aside again.

You squeak as he abruptly tears off your dress as if it's parchment, and flush as all you're left in are your undergarments, all while he ignores your weak protests entirely.

The dragon takes a moment to examine your body, clawed hands trailing over your skin as you shake with fear. Then he purrs lowly, a pleased sort of sound, and moves to grab a bolt of sleek black fabric, embroidered with blue flowers almost exactly the colour of his eyes stretching up like flames.

He slices a length of the fabric with a careful claw, before beginning to drape it over you. You sit nervous and still as the dragon fusses over the fall of the fabric, pinning it in place with elaborate gold brooches.

When he's done with that, the dragon's hands flit over you as he covers you in necklaces, bracelets, anklets, rings, a gleaming crown, delicate chains draping over your shoulders and around your waist, before finishing of with a pair of dangling earrings.

And you don't understand.

Dragons are famously possessive of their hoards, after all. You should've been killed for even looking at this gold.

But, no, the dragon takes one last look at you, purrs in satisfaction and scoops you up again, before carrying you deeper into the sea of gold, coins scattering and pinging beneath his clawed feet, and then sets you down on a massive, elegantly carved throne.

The symbols carved into it tells you it's the very same one that had been stolen from the palace a hundred years ago which is jarring.

The dragon arranges your limbs into a casual, sprawled-out position, leaving you feeling uncomfortably like a doll as he stands back to examine you. He purrs so loudly it vibrates across the ground and through your body, then sits down abruptly and just… stares at you.

It takes several minutes of awkwardly sitting there, the dragon rumbling warningly every time you shift, for you to realize something.

You've been added to his hoard.

It seems absurd, as a living person and not a piece of gold, but… compared to a dragon, what is a human?

Nothing more than food or a piece of art to be admired.

And it burned to think that you don't even register as an animal to the dragon, to be slaughtered and eaten, but just some shiny coin to be added to his collection.

A pretty painting to display and admire.

And yet.

In a sort of odd way, it is somewhat....flattering....to think that something like a dragon, majestic and otherworldly as it is, near godly..... finds you pretty and precious enough to keep in his hoard.

Certainly, no human had ever thought about you like that, even as a princess. In some ways, yes, a pretty object to have and display.

But the sheer admiration, near reverence held within the beasts gaze?

It is almost intoxicating.

.....Though......

"Are you going to keep me here until I starve to death?" You whisper.

The dragon only blinks at you, probably not even understanding you.

You sigh, curling up on the plush throne, ignoring the way your heart lurches when the dragon growls at you for it, and rests your cheek on the arm of the chair as you try to get comfortable.

As an afterthought, not wanting to antagonize the dragon too much, you let your back fall into a smooth arc as the fabric slides up your thighs, which seems to appease the dragon, as he sits back with a pleased huff.

You lay there for a long time, trying to think about anything but the way the dragon stares at you.

Perhaps when it leaves to hunt, you could sneak out, or find some weapon to stab it with while it slept…. But eventually, the exertion and emotions of the day catches up with you. With nothing else to do, you fall asleep under the dragon's watchful eye.

*****

Perhaps if you hadn't fallen asleep, you might've seen the almost sinister smile that stretched across the beast's face.

Perhaps if you saw such a thing, you wouldn't have let your guard down.

Perhaps you might've had a chance at escaping his grasp.

But no, now that such a pretty piece has been added to his collection, he refuses to let another lay their eyes on you.

His newest piece of treasure, all for him.

No, no one else.

No one.

*****

In the months to come, people would scoure the lands for their beloved princess. Lost on her way home, no evidence of where she could be. All that was left was her carriage surrounded by the corpses of her guard.

In the years to come, the people of your nation, your family and friends, mourn the loss of their princess, for she was never seen again.

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