The Phantom of the Opera • Dabi x Reader/Hawks x Reader

3. The Phantom

A/N: I commissioned someone to draw Dabi as the Phantom and SHEEEEEEEESH! Artist is @jorbanzobeanz on Instagram!

CONTENT WARNINGS:

Smut, virginity loss, coercion, maybe dubcon (Idk though bc like she verbally consents, but the power imbalance and the fact that he kidnapped her makes it uhhh iffy to say the least).

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"Come to me, my Angel of Music," he whispered.

The entrancing tune he had been humming was still ringing through Elle's head. As she stepped through the doorway he continued to hum. His voice was even and soft, it reminded her of when he had started to tutor her. He had been gentle and kind in the first few months so as to not scare her away. After that, he had started to become more rigorous with his teachings, but he was never unkind. He offered praise where it was warranted and harsh critique when needed. He would always end their lessons with showers of praise for her hard work and progress.

The angel gently pulled Elle into his chest, almost protectively, as he slid the door closed. He didn't want anyone following them. Elle breathed him in. He smelled like cedar and worn leather, with a hint of smoke that lingered on his jacket. He let go of her but still held her hand as he led her down the hallway. He walked about an arms-length ahead of her, looking back every once in a while to make sure she was still there. Even though he felt her hand in his, he wanted to be sure that she wasn't going to wander off—and that this wasn't a dream. When he turned to look at her every few moments, his eyes lingered for just a second longer than necessary. He took her in with every glance, watching as her dazed expression grew fonder with every look. He concluded that it wasn't, in fact, a dream, and that he was finally basking in the presence of the girl he dreamt about every night for the past several years.

The stone walls were lined with torches, their warm glow led the two to a stairway that would take them deep beneath the opera house. Elle didn't watch where she was going, she trusted her angel to guide her. Instead, she took the chance to study the parts of him that she could see. His black hair looked so soft in the warm glow of the fire. Elle took notice of his ears—which was something she would rarely pay attention to on a person, but his were more notable than most people's. It wasn't the glint of silver from his earring that she had noticed, rather the gnarled, discolored skin that made up his ear. It looked like old leather that had been dyed a warm shade of purple. Her eyes trailed down to his torso. He had it hidden beneath an all-black evening suit. The high collar of his shirt hid most of his neck, save for about an inch that Elle could see. It looked the same as his ear—leathery and discolored.

Does he have some kind of deformity? She wondered, I thought angels were perfect beings.

The trail of torches ended at the beginning of the stairwell, so the man grabbed the last one to light the rest of their way. As their footsteps echoed down the stone stairs, he felt her piercing gaze on the back of his neck and silently prayed that she wouldn't ask questions. He hated to relive the events that left his skin in this state. He knew she would be curious though, so he started to mentally prepare himself for a bombardment of questions. He wouldn't lose his patience with her; she had never really been in his presence, she was going to be curious. A couple of rats scurried to hide from the light of the torch that had disrupted their comfortable darkness, their squeals interrupted the angel's thoughts and Elle's gaze. Elle yelped and jumped back, letting go of her angel's hand in the process. He laughed at her.

"Skittish, are we?" he asked in a teasing voice.

Elle's face heated up with embarrassment, but she said nothing. He shook his head and laughed again, then offered his hand back to her. They walked in comfortable silence before Elle finally had the courage to speak.