At The Bottom

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/62294206.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Categories: F/M, M/M
Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero
Academia (Anime & Manga)
Relationships: Dabi | Todoroki Touya/Reader, Bakugou Katsuki/Reader, Ashido
Mina/Kirishima Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Aizawa
Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic
Characters: Dabi | Todoroki Touya, Bakugou Katsuki, Ashido Mina, Kirishima
Eijirou, Midoriya Izuku, Todoroki Shouto, Iida Tenya, Yagi Toshinori |
All Might, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Bubaigawara Jin | Twice
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Bikers, Biker Gang, Leather Jackets, Motorcycles,
Rude Bakugou Katsuki, Single Parent Bakugou Katsuki, Domestic
Violence, Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Addiction, Blood
and Violence, quirks are not used for nice things, Midoriya Izuku is a
Ray of Sunshine, Kirishima Eijirou is a Good Friend, Reader Has a
Quirk (My Hero Academia), Kid Fic, Bedtimes, Enemies to Lovers
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2025-01-17 Words: 1,355 Chapters: 1/?
 At The Bottom
by IWillBeTheEndofYou

Summary

You thought Dabi was the love of your life. That was before you realized how dark and
violent he could become. You have to find a way to escape. You have to find someone who
can protect you from him. There's that biker gang in town... you'd hate to have to do it...

Katsuki is a single father. He needs someone to help him raise his daughter. And there you
are, battered, bruised, and needing protection.

Perhaps an arrangement can be made?

“Get up!” he snarled, his fingers fisting cruelly in your hair. He wrenched your head
backwards, smirking as you hissed. You opened your eyes, determined not to let him see the
way they were filling with tears. Dabi gave your head a little shake.
“Get. Up. Bitch.”

You scrambled to your feet, ignoring the way that your palms and knees stung. At this point,
it was too difficult to tell what was an old bruise and what was new. Your scalp burned from
his grip.

When had you gone from ‘princess’ and ‘baby’ to ‘bitch’? What had sparked that transition?
Was it as slow and insidious as everything about this relationship? You could barely
remember the first time Dabi had come home, drunk or high or both. You didn’t know. It
didn’t matter. All you remembered was the way he slurred his words and started throwing
plates at your head while you huddled on the floor, knees up and arms covering your face.

In the morning, he had been sweetly sorry. He had gotten up early, or maybe he’d never slept.
You had raced for the tiny spare room where you put a twin sized bed and most of your
books. Dabi said he didn’t like them cluttering up the place. You thought of it as your own
little library.

The bookshelves were helpful, because you pulled one in front of the door. You barely slept
at all, crying silently on the twin bed. You could hear him walking up and down the hall. You
focused on breathing so quietly.

But he’d gone and picked up your favorite breakfast. He’d brought you flowers, and another
book. He went down on his knees as you sat in his recliner, your shoulders trying to curl in
on yourself. He grabbed your hands and placed them against his chest.

He swore he’d never do it again. That he’d just gone out with Twice and had too much. Too
big of a party. He was sorry, he didn’t mean it. Didn’t you know that you were everything to
him? He couldn’t picture a life without you!

Dabi had been so sincere then. His eyes had sparkled with tears. You had cupped his cheeks
in your palms, used your thumbs to brush away his tears. You whispered your forgiveness,
and felt like everything was right in the world when he crushed you in a hug.

It was a week or so later that he came home, grinning and pulling up his t shirt to display a
heart on his chest, colored in dark red, with a banner across it sporting your name. You stared
at it, putting the remote down and slowly walking towards him. Dabi kept grinning as you
walked slowly towards him.

“Because you belong here. Right over my heart. You belong to me, my queen.” the words
made butterflies explode in your belly. Same as when you first met him. You were certain
that you’d always have butterflies exploding in your belly when it came to him.

The butterflies, you thought, had turned to worms that wriggled and squirmed. They crept
through your body, making a home in your fingertips so you’d shake. They wrapped around
your knees, so they’d tremble, too.

Best case scenario, Dabi would come home and find you, wrap his arms around you and
pepper your face with kisses. He’d press his forehead to yours and ask you how your day
was. He liked to listen to you speak with his eyes closed.

Worst case, he’d stumble in late, knocking over everything, screaming for you. You’d drag
yourself out of bed, wearing one of his old t shirts. You’d shiver in the living room as he
screamed and raged on. You had, at least, gotten good at ducking. But once Dabi realized that
you knew how to do that, it seemed to piss him off more. That was when he started grabbing
you, dragging you. You had the worst rug burn on your knees the first time. Your wrists were
constantly sore. You’d taken to wearing long sleeves even in the summer so no one would
notice the fingerprint shaped bruises, stark and mean and far too honest on your skin.

“You’re so lucky that I even bother with you.” he scoffed, shoving you away from him. You
stumbled, your back against the wall. You looked at him with swelling eyes. Dabi frowned.
“You’re getting an attitude. How long does it take you to learn? God, how are you so fucking
stupid?”

“‘M not,” you managed, your voice feeling frozen.

“Not what?” he narrowed his eyes.

“‘M not stupid.” you insisted. He snorted and turned towards the fridge. For another beer?
You wondered how many he’d had. Did it matter? He was going to have more. There was no
number that was safe for you.

Even if there was, how were you going to make him stick to that. Your shoulders relaxed and
you exhaled. Before you could fully relax, the back of his hand came out of nowhere. The
crack of skin on skin was deafening. You gasped, slowly bringing your hand to your cheek.

“Don’t get a fucking attitude with me. You know I hate that.” he didn’t even glance over his
shoulder at you. He didn’t see if you were okay. He didn’t apologize. Nothing. He grabbed a
beer from the fridge and went and sat in his recliner, turning up the volume on the television.
You slid to the floor, watching him.

After awhile, Dabi didn’t pay any attention to you. Slowly, painfully, you crawled towards a
table, using it to pull yourself up. He snorted, but said nothing. You walked with stiff legs to
the guest room.

It was an effort to push the shelf in front of the door. It left you weak and breathless. You
collapsed onto the bed, not daring to close your eyes. There would come a day when the shelf
wasn’t going to be enough. And it would be soon. And there would be nothing to stop him.

You shivered, crossing your arms tightly over your chest.

***

“You’re late.”
“Pipe down, hag.” Katsuki scoffed. “I had business.”

“Yeah, well, if your business gets you arrested, I am not bailing your dumb ass out.” he
mother glared, grabbing her purse.
“She’s been fed and bathed. She said she wanted you to read her story. I don’t know if she’s
still awake.”

“Brat knows to go to bed when she’s told.” he muttered. Mitsuki sighed and shrugged.

“She’s a Daddy’s girl. Maybe when she gets older, she’ll develop some taste. She’s so young
and impressionable now.”

“Go home.” he snarled.

“Kats,” she lifted the strap of her purse. “I love you, I love my granddaughter. But I can’t
keep doing this. Sooner or later you’re going to have to be her father.”

“If you don’t want to help, just say that.”

“That’s not what this is about. You have to–.”

“Didn’t you need to go home, Mother?” he raised an eyebrow. Mitsuki deflated and left.
Katsuki hung up his leather vest, smoothing the patch on the back. He smiled softly before
squaring his shoulder.

Padding towards the bedrooms, he saw the soft glow of the nightlight under the crack of her
door. He opened it slowly and stood in the doorway. Michiko was asleep. One arm thrown
over her head. The other arm clutching her favorite book.

Katsuki’s heart twisted in his chest. He should have been there to read the damn story, he
thought. He crept it, taking the book and placing it on her nightstand. The pink pony shaped
nightlight was on, as he knew. He pulled up the handknitted blanket from Auntie Inko around
her.

Katsuki’s hand stroked her hair. In her sleep, the child turned towards him. He wondered if
that was some sort of primal thing. Would every child try and reach their parent? Did he ever
roll towards Mitsuki like this?

He bent down and kissed her forehead.

“I love you, little one.” he whispered. “Always.”

And he slipped out of her room and shut the door behind him.
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