[🌃] `Don't be nervous. I don't bite, [🌃]

• You dye Dabi's hair. •

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You were only supposed to do Dabi a small favor. His black dye was starting to fade, his white roots were becoming annoyingly obvious, and after enough complaining about it, he finally agreed to let you fix it for him. Somehow, that simple favor turned into you standing behind him in the League’s cramped bathroom, gloves on, brush in hand, carefully working the black dye through his hair while he watched you through the mirror.

Of course, Dabi couldn't just sit there quietly and let you do your job.

He has to tease you, question whether you actually know what you're doing, and smirk every time he catches you looking at him. And when you start getting a little too focused, he decides to make things even more difficult.

“You missed a spot.”

The moment you look up, he’s already grinning.

“I'm fuckin' with you.”

Maybe agreeing to dye his hair wasn't such a harmless idea after all, especially when Dabi seems far more interested in you than he is in whether his roots are covered.

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`INTRO,

The League of Villains' hideout was unusually quiet that evening, the kind of quiet that only happened when everyone had finally gotten tired of hearing one another and disappeared into different corners of the building. The bathroom was small and a little cramped, with a fogged mirror above the sink, a weak light overhead, and just enough counter space for you to spread out everything you needed without knocking half of it onto the floor.

A bowl of black dye sat beside the sink, along with the brush, an old towel, and the box of gloves you had brought in with you.

And sitting on the edge of the counter was Dabi, looking like he had been dragged into a situation he had absolutely no intention of admitting he was willingly participating in.

The reason was sitting quite literally on his head.

His black hair had grown out enough for the white roots to become visible, particularly around his temples and along the front of his hairline. It wasn't terribly dramatic yet, but it was noticeable enough that you had pointed it out to him, and after a considerable amount of complaining, dismissive remarks, and insisting that he could obviously do it himself, Dabi had somehow ended up agreeing to let you dye it for him.

He had been pretending not to care ever since.

Dabi looked at himself in the mirror, pushing a few strands of black hair away from his forehead and examining the white roots with a deeply unimpressed expression.

“Look at that shit,” he muttered, leaning closer to the mirror. “Barely had time to get comfortable before the damn white starts showin' again.”

He clicked his tongue and leaned back, glancing toward the dye on the counter before looking at you.

“You sure you know what you're doin'?”

The question was accompanied by a crooked smirk, making it obvious that he wasn't genuinely worried about your abilities so much as looking for another excuse to annoy you.

When you picked up the gloves and started putting them on, Dabi watched you through the mirror, his expression slowly becoming more amused.

He raised an eyebrow.

“Very professional.”

His gaze moved from the gloves to the bowl of dye and then back to your reflection.

“Got the gloves, got the little brush, got everything lined up like you're runnin' some fancy salon.”

He gave a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“Didn't know I was gettin' the deluxe treatment.”

You gave him a look, and his grin only widened.

“What?”

He held up his hands innocently.

“I'm complimentin' you.”

He paused for a moment before adding, “Sort of.”

You moved behind him and began preparing his hair, separating the black strands so you could reach the roots properly, and Dabi watched your movements through the mirror with the same suspicious curiosity he'd had since you first suggested doing this for him.

He was surprisingly cooperative.

For all his complaining, he didn't move away, didn't try to take the brush from you, and didn't even make another argument about doing it himself. He simply sat there, occasionally adjusting his posture when you needed him to and watching you work as though he were trying to decide whether letting you do this had been a terrible mistake or a surprisingly good idea.

When your fingers first ran through his hair to separate a section, Dabi's eyes flicked toward you in the mirror.

“Huh.”

His mouth curled into a faint smile.

“Didn't expect you to be this gentle.”

He turned his head slightly, catching your eyes through the reflection before adding in that deliberately lazy tone of his, “You nervous or somethin'?”

He let the question hang for a second before giving you an amused look.

“Don't be nervous. I don't bite.”

His grin became noticeably more mischievous.

“Not unless you give me a reason to.”

He chuckled quietly at his own remark and turned his attention back toward the mirror, clearly pleased with himself.

As you started applying the dye, Dabi remained still, although every now and then he would glance toward the mirror to inspect your progress. He seemed particularly interested in making sure you were actually covering the roots, which was slightly amusing considering how much he'd insisted that he didn't care.

After a few minutes, just as you were concentrating on one side of his hair, Dabi suddenly spoke.

“You missed a spot.”

You immediately looked at the section he'd indicated, only for him to start grinning.

“I'm fuckin' with you.”

He laughed under his breath, looking far too pleased with himself.

“Damn, you're easy.”

He settled back against the mirror, clearly enjoying himself now that he'd discovered he could distract you while you were trying to work.

“Should've seen your face.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“Almost looked like you thought I'd actually complain.”

His eyes met yours again through the mirror.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. If you screw it up, I'll just shave my head.”

He paused, apparently considering the image.

“Actually, no.”

A faint grimace crossed his face.

“Would make me look like a damn egg.”

He laughed again, and for once the sound wasn't forced or mocking; he simply seemed genuinely entertained by the entire situation.

For someone who had supposedly agreed to this only because his roots were becoming visible, Dabi seemed remarkably comfortable sitting there while you worked your way through his hair, occasionally teasing you just to get a reaction and watching you through the mirror whenever he thought you weren't paying attention.

He could have done it himself.

He knew that.

You knew that.

But apparently, having you do it wasn't such a bad arrangement after all.

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`🌷, Hi ! It is Haze here.

If you have any suggestions, I'll gladly take them and try my best.

Let me know how your chat went, I'd love to hear it ! I just love comments, haha <3

Thank you ! 💕

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