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qtvi0let · 2 months ago

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I lowkey forgot i still had this in my notes

Spicy!

jealousy is a ugly thing darling

„Heartbeat.“

Summary:

The reader is in a toxic relationship with dabi. The reader knows they shouldn’t be at Dabi’s apartment, but they can’t help themselves. Their relationship is a mess—full of fights, jealousy, and regret—but the loneliness without him feels worse.

As always, Dabi texts first, and the reader answers. Inside, the tension is thick. They talk in circles, taunting and testing each other, neither willing to admit how much they still care. One moment, they’re kissing like they can’t get enough; the next, they’re fighting again.

Dabi accuses the reader of flirting with someone else, his possessiveness sparking another argument. They both know their relationship isn’t healthy, but they can’t let go. No matter how many times they say they’re done, they always come back, trapped in a cycle of love, hate, and obsession.

By morning, they’ll pretend it meant nothing. But they both know the truth: they’ll keep coming back, no matter how much it hurts.

HEARTBEAT

“I wanted you to know that I am ready to go, heartbeat…”

The rain beat against the pavement, a steady rhythm that drowned out the chaos in your head. You stood outside the run-down apartment complex, your fingers tightening around the cigarette you didn’t even want to smoke. Just something to keep your hands busy, something to stop them from trembling.

Dabi was inside. You knew that much. You also knew you shouldn’t be here.

You had broken up. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

You should’ve walked away for good. The fights, the jealousy, the reckless nights that blurred into mornings filled with regret—none of it was healthy. But here you were, heart racing, legs frozen, waiting for him to make the first move.

You hated how easy it was to fall back into him. Your phone vibrated in your pocket. You didn’t need to check. You already knew.

Dabi: You outside?

A sharp inhale. The cold night air burned in your lungs, mixing with the nicotine you didn’t even taste. You typed back with numb fingers.

You: Yeah.

Dabi: Then get in here. Stop being stupid.

A part of you wanted to throw the phone across the street. Another part was already moving up the stairs.

The apartment smelled like cheap cologne and cigarettes. The same scent that clung to his clothes, his sheets, your skin whenever you woke up next to him. It was familiar. It was dangerous.

Dabi leaned against the kitchen counter, shirtless, scars catching the dim light. His eyes—icy and unreadable—raked over you like he was trying to figure out what the hell you were doing here. But he didn’t ask. He never did.

“Didn’t think I’d see you tonight,” he muttered, voice lazy, rough, like he hadn’t slept in days.

“You texted first,” you shot back, closing the door behind you.

A smirk. “You always text back.”

You hated how right he was.

There was a silence, thick and suffocating. You wanted to say something real, something that would explain why you were standing here after months of pretending you were done with this. With him.

But all that came out was, “You still smoke the same brand?”

Dabi huffed a laugh, reaching for the pack on the counter. “You still act like you don’t care?”

And just like that, you were back where you started.

You broke up because you couldn’t take it anymore. The nights spent waiting for him to come home, not knowing if he’d be alive or dead. The smell of burnt flesh on his clothes. The bruises—on you, on him—some from fights, some from the way neither of you knew how to love without hurting.

You broke up because he never said the words you needed to hear. Because he was cruel when he wanted to be, because he knew exactly what buttons to push, and because he always made you feel like loving him was a mistake you should be ashamed of.

But you came back because…

Because the silence without him was worse. Because you missed his voice, the rasp of it when he said your name. Because, no matter how much he hurt you, he was the only one who made you feel something. Even if that something was pain.

“Are you staying the night or what?” Dabi asked, his tone flat, like he didn’t care either way.

Like he didn’t already know the answer. You swallowed, shifting on your feet. “I shouldn’t.”

He rolled his eyes. “You never should.” And yet, when he took a step closer, you didn’t move away.

His fingers traced your jaw, the touch light, teasing. His breath was warm against your lips. “You gonna run again in the morning?”

You should’ve said yes.

But his mouth was on yours before you could answer, and you let him steal the words right off your tongue. “You missed me,” Dabi murmured against your skin, his lips trailing down from yours, grazing that spot on your neck that always made you shiver.

You hated how easy he could read you.

“Shut up,” you muttered, hands fisting in his hair, yanking him closer.

He chuckled, low and dark, the sound vibrating against your throat. “That a yes?”

You didn’t answer, just pulled him into you, letting his hands wander, letting his mouth remind you why you kept coming back.

The couch creaked beneath you both as he pushed you down, pressing against you like he wanted to crawl inside your skin. His hands were rough, scarred, warm—tracing every inch of you like he had to memorize it all over again.

“You think you can just show up whenever you want?” he murmured, his lips brushing over your collarbone.

You arched against him, breath hitching. “You texted first.”

He laughed—really laughed this time. “You always text back.”

And just like that, you were back where you started. Again.

After what was like 15 minutes of making out, you noticed how dabi’s mood shifted slightly, you knew that there was something on his mind. Something has been bothering him all day. The heat between you hadn't even settled before it turned to fire again. Not the kind that kept you warm, but the kind that burned everything in its path.

You were still catching your breath from the rough kissing, when his hand slid off your waist, reaching for the cigarette pack on the nightstand. The glow of the lighter flickered across his face—jaw clenched, eyes sharp, something dark swimming behind them.

You recognized that look, that look of wanting to argue.

“You had fun talking to him?” The question was calm. Too calm.

Your stomach twisted. “Him?”

Dabi scoffed, exhaling a slow drag of smoke. “Don’t play stupid.”

Your heart sank. “Dabi, it was a conversation.”

“Yeah? Funny, ‘cause from where I stood, it looked like he wanted to fuck you.”

You sat up, gripping the sheet around you. “Jesus Christ, not this again.”

“You think I don’t notice? The way he was looking at you? The way you were smiling back?”

“It was friendly.”

He laughed—cold, hollow. “Nothing between us is ever friendly.”

“Us?” You snapped. “What even is us?!”

Your voice cracked, but you didn’t care. The frustration, the exhaustion—it all hit you at once, crashing over you like a tidal wave you had no way to escape.

For a second, there was silence. Then—

“Are we dating?” The words hung heavy between you. Your chest tightened. “Are we fucking?” he continued, voice low, taunting. You swallowed hard, heat rising to your cheeks. “Don’t—” “Are we best friends?” His lips curled into something bitter. “Or are we something in between that?”

Your nails dug into your palms. You wished you had an answer.

“I wish we never fucked.” You tried to sound as mad as possible. You turned your gaze to the ceiling like you were trying to convince yourself. “And I mean that.”

Dabis teal eyes stared at you, it felt like he was looking into your soul. For a second You thought you had managed to hurt his feelings.

But then—he laughed. Dark. Rough. And when his eyes met yours again, they were full of something dangerous. „huh“ was all he said. You knew what was about to happen.

One second, you were glaring at each other. The next, he was flipping you over to your stomach, pinning you down on the couch with his entire weight as he slammed your face into the pillow.

Your face hit the pillow with a soft thud, Dabi’s hands gripping your hair and waist like he wanted to bruise you, to leave something behind so you wouldn’t forget who you belonged to—even if neither of you could say the words.

“You piss me off,” you spat out, your voice muffled by the pillow.

He smirked, his hand sliding up your sides, slow and deliberate. “Right back at you, sweetheart.”

“I bet You only argue with me because it turns you on, doesnt it? It wouldnt surprise me, you sick fuck” you panted out, your voice muffled by the pillow. He knew you were right but he would never admit it.

Then, he let go of your hair and grabbed your face from underneath, lifting ur chin up from the pillow, forcing you to look at him. His grip was firm, fingers digging into your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. His eyes—sharp, glowing in the dim light—searched yours, watching every little reaction, every flicker of anticipation.

“You act like you hate me,” he murmured, tilting your face up further, his thumb brushing over your lips. “But you’re still here.”

His free hand moved, slow, teasing, ghosting over your pants. down your thigh, then back up. Not touching where you wanted him to. Not yet.

Your pulse pounded. “Dabi—”

He clicked his tongue. “Shh. Let me take my time.”

You shivered as he dragged his fingers down the waistband of your pants, playing with the fabric, slipping under it just enough to make you want to scream.

“You are an asshole,” you muttered.

He just grinned. “And yet, you’re still here.”

It was messy. It was angry. It was everything you hated about him, about you, about whatever the fuck this was. You were ranting about how irresponsible and annoying he is, how mean he is for doing this to you, yet he paid no mind to your words. He put the cigarette, wich he lit earlier, into your mouth to shut you up as he continued teasing you. You roll your eyes and mutter out “finally something good.“ as you take a long drag of the cigarette

He loves it when You‘re mad at him. Its cute in his eyes. And you cant help but also like it, no matter how much he pisses you off, you still love him.

The way he kissed you earlier was punishing, like he was trying to hurt you, to mark you. Like he needed to prove that no matter how much you fought, no matter how much you swore you were done, you would always end up right here.

Together, breaking each other apart. Morning would come, you’d pretend it meant nothing but you both knew the truth.

You Both are drawn to one another like a moth to a flame.

And the rest shall be up to ur imagination!🤗

My obsession w this song is so bad i had to write a whole fanfic😭

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rafecameronsgun · 1 year ago

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☯︎ THIS IS HOW I IMAGINE RAFE CAMERON’S PSYCHO GF ☯︎

✫ wears leather jacket

✫ lips are always red

✫ LOTT of tattoes and piercings on your nipple,clit…

✫ wide eyeliner

✫ has teeth gem

✫ dark hair

✫ very freaaky

“i wanna touch you”he pants as he flexes his thighs beneath your ankles struggling to not buck his hips upwards.

“…and then she bit on my balls and i…”kelce continuing his story telling while you are sitting on rafes lap,your long nails playing with the back of his head while you are listening. and thats when you catch a blonde blue eyed girl who is giggling to her friends while looking at YOUR man across the room,whispering to them something which they are agree to.

you stand up and go ahead to the girl’s,cigarette you smoked is between your fingers,still burning.“he is hot,isnt he?”you ask,stopping right in front of her face,smoking your cigarette and blowing it all onto her face. rafe is watching this scene with poker face because he knows he cant tell you to “stop,its okay” or”ur crazy,leave her alone” or anything like that because he knows u wouldnt care,so he just watches you. the girl stands in shock,her expressions frozen before you dig the burning cigarette into her forearm,making her shout in pain.

-> rafe is obsessed with your teeth gems,when you smile and it reflects he feels like he cant fall in love with you more.and when he sees it while you cum with mouth wide open,he cant help but moan out at the sight of it.

-> you like to play with him. always playin with him,making him crazy over you. you would flirt with him in public like extremely being flirty and when he wants to take you to the bathroom u refuse”just jerk it out if you need it so bad,its your fault you take jokes so seriously”

->you checked his phone last week and you saw a message from a girl. you didnt know who she is or what seh wants because the text was just “hey” so you checked her profile,stalked her a bit and then you recognized who she is. she is a kook, a kook you have been friends with till 8th grade. as weeks went by you met her a lot “accidentally”. like whenever you went out with rafe,she was “accidentally” always near. you suspected her,and when you found out you were right,you kidnapped her and buried her under the ground alive with her limbs chopped. and when rafe saw the news in the tv about her disappearing you were like”oh shit poor girl!!”sarcastically,which made rafe shake his head,he knows that whatever happened to her its probably connected to you.

->making deals for fun.like “whoever cums first gets the last line of the coke”

->you always cares shis body,always touching him. you have long nails,not too long but long enough to make rafe beg you to scratch his back with them.

✯ when it comes to date night ✯

->you sign up for illegal motorcycle/car races that takes place near the harbour. smoking weed,being drunk before racing. its dangerous and the fact that you two could die together makes it even more exciting.

->you smoke weed while going around the graves and making scenarios about how each people died.and then it ends up fucking in the grass.

you do anything that connects with sex and danger.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

->sharing a cigarette after a slow sex session at 3am and talking about life,how your family traumatized you then comforting each other with a longgg makeout session.

->watching horror movies

->when rafe sees someone staring at you for too long he slips his hand under your mini skirt,hoping everyone is watching you. he slids his middle finger under thong,touching your pussy which makes you moan out. he smirks,looking straight into the guy’s eye.

->making him listen to rock/metal songs. he is like “turn this shit off,my head hurts from it”and the next time you check his phone you find the songs in his playlist. you giggle but dont say a word about it.

@ci4ras @rafescurtainbangz @sadfury

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