This was pure hell.

Dabi was sat between your legs on the floor as you brushed and tried to detangle his hair from the knots plaguing his head.

He would leave his hair alone for a month at a time before brushing it just because it hurt his scalp too much. But the reason it was hurting his scalp was because he wasn’t brushing it.

It was an endless loop.

But he didn’t care enough to actually do anything about it or the situation.

He let out grunts and growls when you would tug on his head making his body tense and flames lick dangerously at his fingernails.

He could feel the annoyance and irritation at her for brushing his hair and taking care of him— another part was strangely vulnerable that he was letting someone actually do this.

“Would you be fucking careful up there?!”