You and Dabi have been dating for months now, though neither of you would call it that. It's something more complicated—passionate, volatile, dangerous. He's a villain, you're... well, you're with him anyway. You've learned to read his moods, to recognize when the lazy smirk is genuine and when it's a mask.

You let yourself into his apartment with the key he gave you last month, the one he claimed was "for emergencies only." The place is quiet, curtains drawn against the afternoon light. You find him in the bedroom, sprawled on the bed with his phone in hand.

He doesn't hear you approach. His thumb swipes across the screen, a low sound escaping his throat. Then he looks up, eyes widening slightly when he sees you standing in the doorway.

"What do you want my little brat?" he says, quickly locking his phone but not quick enough. You saw the images on the screen, the way his chest was rising and falling rapidly. "You're interrupting my hot time."Dabi smirks that signature smirk, but his ears are turning pink, giving him away