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minhosimthings · 8 months

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For Love to Exist: A Hyunjin Fic

Synopsis: In which Aphrodite makes a plan for two loveless souls.

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × Fem!reader, includes rest of Skz (side characters)

Word count: don't know but it's really long

Warnings: Fluff, angst, slow burn, mentions of self harm, and mental abuse, reader is an orphan, mentions of food and drink. She/her pronouns used, reader has scars on her skin

A/N: this is sort of a self indulgent fic for me and it is dedicated to all the people in my life who have made me feel like I am worthy of love again. This is based off of my own experiences due to my abusive past and how I let those go with the help of the people I've met here in university. I based Y/N off of myself (I hope you don't mind) because I feel like Hyunjin would be the type of person to love s person, regardless of their past, and ignorant of their future (and also I'm too delulu for Hyun rn). I dedicate this fic to all the people around the world, who feel that they do not deserve a red heart, and an I love you everyday. I dedicate this fic to the little girl inside of me, who still thinks that she is unworthy of love.

For love to exist, souls should exist too. For love to breathe, souls should take a deep breath too. For love to live, souls should learn how to live too. But for you, souls simply did not exist. They were just imaginary things made up by boring adults to tell children why they married their partners, to mask whatever what going on in reality. Why would anyone believe in souls and hearts and bonds and all that bullshit? Kids, of course, believed it.

You, on the other hand, were taught by cold eyes, ever since forever. Cold eyes had taught you that warm ones always lied and that love was just a fairytale made up to increase the population of earth. Cold eyes told you that June wasn't about pretty flowers and sundresses. They taught you it was about the burning sun and the heatwaves. Cold eyes taught you that flowers were nothing more than biological creations of two genetically unique organisms. Cold eyes taught you that the world was just the Earth, just a globe and that the universe didn't care for a tiny speck like you.

Work, Eat, and sleep. Those were the only things you did with passion. Those were the only things in your life that you noticed and yearned for. It was painful to watch your coworkers at the company, who were below you, enjoy life so much. As chief editor, you had less work than they did, yet they saw life as a chance. They saw life as a chance to enjoy the fruits of the universe, while you still saw life as a scarred being. Funny, how you thought that everyone else was mad to have love in their lives, yet there you were with scars on your chest, both physical and mental, going unnoticed by the minute.

Until Hyunjin came into your life.

Hwang Hyunjin. Step son of your goddamned boss. You were told that he would be working alongside you as both an assistant editor and as a new cartoonist, replacing Mr Park, who had resigned five days ago. You groaned at the idea of having someone follow you all day, asking you if you needed anything. You were better off without an assistant or a cartoonist. But your magazine wasn't the leading magazine in South Korea for no reason. The illustrations provided alongside the thigh slapping articles always provided the greatest entertainment to the millions of readers. Mr Park was an old man, who was always quiet and mostly kept to his drawings, exactly your preference. Someone who doesn't annoy you or ask about your love life because apparently, at 23, a woman has nothing better to do. But a man, your age, who you've heard used to be a singer in a band, yeah that wasn't going to work with you.

Your boss had introduced you guys on his first day. He was.... surprisingly handsome. His eyes were like a kitten's, small and glittery, as if Andromeda had poured all her stars into them. His nose and jawline were so sharp, in total contrast to his gaze, soft and pinkish. You wondered why all those thoughts were coming into your head. Never before had they had even touched your mind, when you saw other men and women around you, no matter how pretty they were.

He worked in silence. Complete silence. He wouldn't even move his chair or anything. The desk on which he worked was so pristine and organized, very much like yours, exactly like yours. But there was an aura with which he worked on piece of paper with a black ink pot that you could only dream of having. It was like the sky favoured him, sunlight illuminating all of his features, including some tiny moles on his face. You couldn't help but admire his serious face, headphones in, with an ink stained brush moving swiftly across paper, tracing the tiny dots and lines of whatever he was making. You had first approached the company as a cartoonist yourself, having the skills because of an art minor. But soon the director saw you better as a journalist and slowly but surely you moved your way up the ladder to become chief editor. And when you saw other people doing something you used to love doing, you wondered if you hadn't accepted the job as an editor, would your life have been so mundane? So brown and still?

"Um Miss Y/N?" A voice broke you out of your stupor, starting you and getting your mind away from the articles on your computer screen. Hyunjin was standing next to you, holding pieces of paper in one hand and his brush in the other. He had a dab of ink sprawled across his nose. Cute, you thought.

"I, uh, finished the illustration for the first article you sent. Are they ok?" He gave you five pieces of paper, all with funny intonations on them, a cookie wearing hat, and an iguana wearing a DJ's glasses. It was cute, really cute you thought, as you gave them back to him, nodding in approval and shooting him a small smile. "You have ink on your nose, did you know that?" You pointed out to him, handing him a tissue from your tissue box, which he took and immediately disappeared behind his computer, wiping his nose aggressively. Cute, so cute.

You usually left work at eight thirty, not too late and not too early that you'd miss your tea. But something made you want to stay back today. Someone, specifically. Hyunjin told you that he usually went home by ten, since he didn't do much during the night. You refrained from telling him when you went, lest he question why you stayed back today.

"Miss Y/N I'll be heading out now. Good night." He held up his olive green bag and waved goodbye to you. Something inside of you wanted to say 'Wanna go together?' but you had always ignored that something so you instead waved back to him and started picking up your things.

That day, the old grandmother at the ramen shop you always went to said something was different about you and told you to smile more. You didn't know whether or not that was a complement but you took it willingly along with spicy ramen with beef.

"Miss Y/N I-" "Hyunjin stop call me Miss. Im your age. Just call me Y/N, alright?" You finally got that sentence out of your mouth after keeping it in for an entire week. An entire week Hyunjin addressed you with honorifics and today you wanted to tell him that just your name was enough. Just your name coming out of his mouth like a sweet melody was alright. "Oh well ok Y/N." He said with some difficulty, feeling awkward not using the proper words. "I wanted to say that lunch break began over two hours ago and you still haven't got up from your seat, so I uh bought you something. I asked your co workers what you usually eat so um yeah." He did what? You looked down at his extended hand, holding a box of your usual Ramyeon and an americano. You silently took the food from his hands, shooting him a quick 'thank you'. He deserved more than that, but at that moment, all your shocked brain could do was that.

Someone cared for you. Someone noticed that you weren't eating. Someone noticed how you stayed on this cold October day. And that was sort of sweet? Someone did that for you and for once it seemed he did not want anything in return. That couldn't be true, you thought as you silently ate your Ramyeon, all the while shooting tiny glances at Hyunjin, who was once again immersed in his drawings. Seeing him so deeply imbued in an art, which provided him a job, was so endearing to look at. He was doing something he enjoyed, while earning money for it. Isn't that what everyone in the world would love?

"Um Hyunjin? Hyunjin." You snapped your fingers in front of Hyunjin, who had his headphones on, with that brush back in his hand. He looked so cute, being broken out of his hypnotised state. His eyes blinked at you for a few seconds, before he took the headphones off and greeted you. "What is it Mi- I mean Y/N?" God he was so handsome. He was in a loose baby blue sweater and white pants today. He looked so dainty and fragile as if you touch him and he'll break. "I uh wanted to thank you again for the food today. Um. Any way I can thank you for it? Maybe buy you a coffee?" You could feel your cheeks getting redder by the moment. Even if he couldn't see the blush, you could definetly feel them. If your guardian angels were watching you right now, they'd be saying 'Y/N get your ass up and stop blushing so much.'. "Oh. Um uh" Hyunjin stuttered for a bit before checking his watch. Nine thirty am. There was still half an hour left to go home, meaning you both had enough time to grab a coffee and perhaps a bagel or something tasty.

"Oh course Y/N. But please do not pay for my food. You need not repay me for lunch." Your pleas for that sentence went unheard, as Hyunjin kept saying that he didn't want anyone to pay for him, reasoning that lunch was a basic human need and he was just helping his co worker out. Something about the way he defended himself and explained things was so adorable. It was like a ferret explaining why it's fur is white and why it's ears are so round.

"This is surprisingly good." You commented, as Hyunjin and you sat by the little round table in the coffee shop, drinking Americans and eating Macarons. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow at you, watching as you are your pistachio Macaron. "You never had a Macaron before in your life?" You shook your head at his question, trying to swallow your bite of the Macaron quickly, so as to answer his question. "No actually." You managed to cough out after what seemed like five hours of you chewing the sweet dessert. "I don't have a preference for sweet things. I used to but I grew out of it." Hyunjin looked up at you, from staring at his shoes. "You used to? Well I always used to believe that a sweet tooth could never grow out of their preferences. Turns out I was wrong then." The corners of your mouth twitched as your heart itched not to say 'why are you so perfect?' to the man sitting in front of you. "So what musicians do you listen to?" It was now your turn to look up at him with wide eyes. It was funny how both of you were eating food together like two normal human beings, yet neither of you dared to look at each other, or maintain direct eye contact for more than a fraction of a second. "Pardon?" You asked him, eyebrow raised and foot tapping on the floor. He stumbled back a bit and said, in a apologetic tone, "Oh I didn't mean to impose. Im sorry. I just thought, you know we see each other every single day, and I have never gotten to know what my coworker likes a dislikes so um.. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." Seeing him apologize like that was like seeing a puppy apologize to a black cat. You probably looked scary right now, with your expression and your rigid figure, so it made sense for Hyunjin to react like that.

"Oh it's alright Hyunjin." You said, shooting him the tiniest smile ever. "People don't really ask me questions about myself that often so I was kind of taken aback." Hyunjin just nodded and hummed in response to your bland statement.

That night, when you went home, you thought to yourself, about how much you missed human interaction. Most often disassociation and loneliness were your favourite drugs, but Hyunjin asking you a simple question about your favourite singer, made those drugs seem pleasure less. Your therapist would have probably looked you up and down and immediately told you that you were in love, being the hopeless romantic he was. People were scared to approach you. You, with your head held high in the air, your gait threatening that of Hera's, and your expression, cool and wicked. But Hyunjin just casually asked you what musicians you listen to, as if he had known you for years and he was meeting up with you again, at a school reunion. It was shocking to you, how he could just say that, without stuttering. Yes he did stutter later on, but it was so adorable the way he apologized to you, hands nervously palming at his fingers and nose silently twitching. Maybe friends weren't so bad after all, you thought, as the stars looked at you in pity, talking amongst themselves, about where had God gone wrong with you.

A sticky note? Your boss never left sticky boss for you. Usually his assistant to deliver you messages. So who wrote this mysterious pink sticky note, stuck to your computer with a smiley and something written on it? You had arrived at work after Hyunjin today, who, once again was is a hypnotic state, lightly bobbing his head to whatever was playing inside of those blue headphones. You slightly suspected that the note was probably his, as you sat down on your chair, hanging your bag in the usual place beside your table. You pulled off the note from the computer and examined it closely. There was something written on it with a glittery purple pen.

I scared you yesterday with my question. So I'm going to ask you through a note. What musicians do you listen to? (PS you can answer through a sticky note too)

You noticed Hyunjin kept giving you small glances from time to time, only taking his eyes away from his art for a fraction of a second. Cute, you thought, really cute. This was by far the cutest thing he had done. You silently took up a glittery blue pen from your drawer and wrote some sentences on a different sticky note, knowing when you were going to stick it.

"Hyunjin could you do me a favour?" You tapped on his desk to alert him. He looked up at you once again, with those same doe eyes. You noticed the ink once again splattered on his nose. "Yeah?" "Could you take this up to Mr Kim once and ask him if this is how he wanted the article to be edited?" You handed him a blue file to take it upto your boss, which is silently took and went up to the boss's office, giving you enough time to stick the note onto his computer. You made a last minute addition to the note, before rushing off to the canteen, lest Hyunjin catches you in your mischievous act. Even though it was just sticking a note to your co worker's computer this felt like the most amazing thing you had ever done in your life, the most daring.

Where had you gone? Hyunjin had come back to his desk after handing off the file to the boss, who said he'd give it back tomorrow, only to find you nowhere to be found. He swore that he had saw you here just a second ago. Where had you gone now? Shrugging his shoulders and telling himself that you had probably taken a bathroom break, he sat back down on his desk, ready to complete the illustrations for the day, that you had given him yesterday, when he noticed something stuck to his computer. A green sticky note. Could it be? Did you respond to his very creepy, weirdo nerd way of asking you a question in order to get to know you better?

When Hyunjin sat down on his chair, and slowly pulled the sticky note out, he sweated that his heart had skipped a hundred beats (or 143 beats hehe). Your loopy handwriting was scrambled on it with sparkly blue ink.

This is very middle school of us to be passing notes in work but I like listening to Lana del Rey, Florence and The Machines, a bit of k-pop and lot of classical music. Now you answer my question along with your own question. What is your favourite ice cream flavour? (PS you have ink on your nose)

Hyunjin's soul was doing backflips in his stomach. Having an obsession for love, he wondered whether this was how Cupid felt like when he shot his first arrow. You listened to the same artist he did. He absent-mindedly wondered about what question to ask you next when you came out from the canteen, carrying lunch for the both of you. "Oh hey Hyunjin." You said in what you hoped wasn't an over active tone. "I uh got you lunch to pay back for when you got me lunch and um here you go." You awkwardly handed him the cup of spicy tteokbokki along with some other dishes and an Americano. As if returning the awkwardness, he mumbled a sheepish 'thank you', grabbed the food and hid behind his desk. Somewhere in the clouds Aphrodite was sighing, not knowing what to do with you two.

After a few hours, when you had gotten up to go the boss's office, Hyunjin saw his golden chance and took it. He scribbled his question onto a pink sticky note and quickly stuck it to your desk, frantically sitting back on his chair and pretending to be focusing on his cartoon which had long been completed.

Happiness. Happiness was all you and Hyunjin felt that night, when both of you parted ways. It was that happiness which a fourteen year old gets when their crush pays attention to them. It was mischievous happiness, as both you went home and pondered about questions and answers. Middle school romance was something neither of you had, with him not finding the correct person, who would love him for who he is, and you just not wanting love anymore. Aphrodite would be probably be smiling right now, twirling her roses and she makes the next part of her plan.

"Hyunjin! Over here!" It was raining very heavily today and you had chosen this very day to not take your car. Apparently Hyunjin had done the same thing, as both of you saw other close to the cafe a distance from your work. He didn't have an umbrella and you had spotted him running over in the direction of your work, blue hoodie gripped tightly over his head. "Did the universe have to choose the day I didn't get my car to rain?" He shouted at you as you both were shielded by your umbrella. "I was thinking the same thing!" You shouted back at him. "Let's get inside the cafe!"

The cafe thankfully wasn't crowded at all, and as you took off your coat and shoes to dry, you appreciated the heat coming from inside the cafe. It was on the more traditional side, with a wooden interior and sepia toned plants hidden in mud pots.

"Oh great." Hyunjin sighed. He was holding his phone is his hands, having taken off his hoodie and his shoes before you did and setting his bag down at a table for two. "Boss just texted. Work's cancelled for three days straight." "So we went through all that rain for nothing?" You deflated on the comfy chair, opposite Hyunjin, who was revealed to be wearing a dark blue shirt underneath his baby blue hoodie. "Well damn it. What do we do now? I didn't bring my car and neither did you. Do we have to wait out the storm here?" You asked him, wiping your face with a handkerchief. "Well we can." Hyunjin responded. "I think the owner will probably let us." You raised a brow at him at that statement while he just stared into space, as if expecting an alien to show up any moment. "How do you know the own-" "HWANG HYUNJIN YOU FINALLY DRAG YOUR ASS HERE TO SEE ME."

A very loud voice rang through the cafe, accompanied by a much quieter 'Hyunjin's here?'. Hyunjin groaned and buried his face in his hands, as a handsome man with olive skin, brown hair, and the prettiest nose ever, came striding up to your table, wearing the uniform of the cafe. He promptly pulled up a chair and collapsed onto it, next to Hyunjin, all the while playfully glaring at him. "Hey Minho hyung." Hyunjin mumbled, not looking directly at whoever this Minho was. The other man clicked his tongue out of disapproval and said, "Say that louder would ya? And why have you not been coming to visit me and emotional dump on me for like two weeks? Oh and who's this lovely young lady?" He looked into your eyes at that last bit, startling you a bit, at how round and black his eyes were, like tiny little boba balls. "I'm Y/N." You extended a hand forward. "L/N Y/N" Minho took your hand and shook it with a firm grip, before getting up and slightly bowing to you. "Well Miss Y/N, may I get you anything? Perhaps something which is not an Americano, which is what this monster" he motioned to Hyunjin "drinks?" You gave him a calculator look before saying, "Oh. Um I would like an americano actually and probably one for Hyunjin too please." Minho looked ever so slightly taken aback by your words. "As you wish!" He declared before giving Hyunjin and a smirk and leaving.

"So who was that?" You asked Hyunjin, whose ears were burning red. With a sigh, he put his elbows on the table, burrying his head in them.

"That was Lee Minho. A college mate of mine, who opened a cafe with a friend of his, soon after graduation, because apparently he didn't want to get into a boring job." He chuckled slightly at that. "He's a mentor to me. He's like I think two years older than me and he treats me like a damn baby. But it's fine cause I'm the one who helped him cheat on his exams so I get free shit here."

"Americano for two?" Oh hey Hyunjin!" A freckled boy had come up to your table, americano filled cups in his hand. His skin was porcelain, like glass, dotted with star like freckles, with blonde hair framing his beautiful face. "Hey Lix." Hyunjin patted the boy's back, as he set the coffee down on the table. "How's your mum now? Is the treatment working?" A smile never seemed to leave this boy's face, as he sat down in the chair which Minho had pulled up earlier. "She's good now. Much better! I've been sending her some brownies every now and then but she's still disappointed because apparently her son won't get a girlfriend." He slightly pouted as Hyunjin chuckled lightly. "Oh who's this? Wait are you-" the boy looked at you with excited eyes, before gasping and turning his head to Hyunjin. "Is this the Y/N you told me about?" He excitedly extended a hand towards you, which you took, experience pleasure at his soft grip and hands, which was in stark contrast to Minho's handshake. "I'm Felix! Lee Felix. Nice to meet you! Y/N right?" The amount of happiness radiating from this boy was so much that you thought he was probably the reincarnation of Helios himself. "Nice to meet you too Felix. I'd introduce myself, but judging from your excitement I believe Hyunjin's already told you about me." You gave him a smile, which he returned. "Yah Felix!" Minho's voice came from across the wooden walls. Felix groaned and got up from his chair saying goodbye to both of you and rushing off to Minho.

"They're really nice." You told Hyunjin, sipping on your americano. It was nice and weird to have people like you for who you are. It was kind of alien to you, to meet two people who knew about you. It was even more alien of Hyunjin to tell people about you. What could people tell about you? What fragments of your being attracted Hyunjin that he told his friends about your existence?

"Y/N are you ok?" Hyunjin's voice broke your mind from staring at the rain pouring outside. The storm had calmed down now and it was just lightly drizzling, drops staining the window, racing against each other. "Oh yes I'm good. Sorry."

"So you wanna talk about the notes or should we keep it a middle school secret?" Hyunjin's question rang across your brain, and as you sipped on your americano, you couldn't help but notice how innocent that question was. It was just a question. It wasn't an interrogative question, which you'd be punished for if you didn't answer. You fingers unconsciously went up to your wrists when you thought about that question. "What do you suggest? I'm alright with answering the question in person, instead of exchanging notes." You responded, keeping your tone casual, so as to not reveal the fast pace of your heart beat.

Hyunjin smiled at you and sipped on his americano again. "My favourite ice cream flavour is pistachio. And I also like listening to Lana del Rey and classical music. My turn now." He leaned forward slightly. "A song which you could listen to, for all eternity?" Musical questions were what you enjoyed the most, having being in love with music ever since your ears picked up the tune of twinkle twinkle little star. Hyunjin's question seemed hard, since your favourite song changed every few seconds and you couldn't just choose one melody to pleasure your ears for all of eternity. "Hmm" you responded after a while. "Probably Love by Lana Del Rey." "Why so?" Hyunjin asked.

"Because along with having an amazing tune and the greatest vocals ever," you started your lecture "It's also such a deep song. The way she is symbolising young love is so beautiful, from the way she alters her voice at certain lines to the lyrics themselves. I especially fell in love with the chorus because it signifies such a beautiful matter of being so much in love that even the tiniest actions can seem like elephantine gestures. Even that lyric 'The world is yours and you can't refuse it' it's so pretty. It's symbolising that feeling of ruling the world when you fall in love. Or atleast I think it does. I've never fell in love so."

You fell quiet after your rambling, hoping that it didn't freak him out how much you knew about one particular song, which you definetly did not write an entire essay about. L/n Y/n you've done it again. You've scared a person off because of your rambling about your hyperfixation because you have nothing else to love. Great job, you thought.

But as you looked over at Hyunjin's face, it was happy? His eyes were wide and his lips were slightly parted as if thinking what to say, his americano straw remained in his mouth, but he wasn't sipping on it. He was in total awe, something you couldn't see.

"That- that was amazing." He said after a pregnant silence. "I never thought about songs that way honestly. But I think from now on I'll start thinking of it like that." God his smile was so handsome. The way the corners of his mouth stretched and the way his lips always slightly parted, it was all so pretty. And since when have you became so observant? To notice a man's manner of smiling?

Aphrodite smiled again in the clouds, calling for her chariot, to take a ride across the sky, making up the next step of her masterplan.

It was still pitter-pattering outside the window as both of you finished your drinks. You declined Minho's offer to eat, since you had already ate a lot for breakfast and you weren't feeling hungry. You tasted a bit of Felix's brownies, for which you complemented the freckled boy so mich to point where his glass skin turned into stained red glass.

"God the rain is stopping, how the hell are we going to get home?" Hyunjin sighed, as he meant back in his chair. You both had put your shoes, hoodie and coat back on and were staring out the window. You had an idea in your mind. A peculiar idea. An idea unlike you. An idea made by your heart controlled mind. You know how they say that we should never let our heart control our brain? Well sometimes, just sometimes, in the tiniest moments, we could let it control our being just a little bit.

"Doyouwanttocomeovertomyhouseitsreallycloseby" "I beg your pardon?" Oh great you spoke the easiest sentence in the fastest way you could possibly imagine. You should probably get the Nobel Prize for the most awkward person ever. Taking a deep breath, you made eye contact with Hyunjin (perhaps for the first time) and said, "Would you like to come over to my house? It's close by and I can drop you off at your house if I get my car." Hyunjin looked slightly taken aback by your suggestion, and as he pondered over it with a series of 'ohs' and 'ums', you mentally scolded yourself. How could you never say the right thing ever? How did you manage to say the wrong thing every single time? How did you manage to scare off every person every single time? Were you really not capable of love? Was your mother really right?

"If I don't impose Y/N, I would like to come over to your house. I should actually probably get going home too, so I accept your offer, only if it doesn't bother you." Your heart lifted from where it was earlier. Listening to the words coming out of Hyunjin's mouth in the soft tone, was something so comforting to you. It was like the smell of old books, like the way flowers moved in the wind, like the way wine swirled in a wine glass and like the way melodies danced to the beat of a song.

"This is your house?" You and Hyunjin had walked all the way to your house, shielded by his umbrella. It was safe to say that your house was a very luxurious one, in the more expensive side, courtesy to your high profile job. It was a two bedroom house, with the most beautiful terrace and balcony anyone had ever seen, which gave a view of the Seoul skyline. "It's beautiful." Hyunjin breathed out. "Come inside." You said, taking off your shoes at the entrance and unlocking the wooden door. "Want some food?" Hyunjin shook his head as both of you entered your house, his mouth dropping on seeing the interior. You had a conversation pit inside your house, much like one of those 80's sitcoms, and it was the most queer thing in your house. It was purple and magenta, with white finishings and a pretty carpet, sitting below a glass table. "It seems the interior is much prettier than the exterior." Hyunjin said, as you both entered the pit, sitting down. You sheepishly smiled and mumbled a thank you, before getting up to get him some water, even though you both had downed a big cup of americano.

"Your books are really interesting." You had started showing Hyunjin around your house, and when you reached the library portion, he wouldn't move from there. Granted, you did have a pretty library, decorated with fake moss and hanging vines, which made it look like a shelf growing out of the forest. "What is so interesting about them?" You asked him as he stroked the book covers with his fingers, to which he smiled and pointed to the last two books. "Their arrangment is fascinating first of all. I mean The Animal Farm and Pride and Prejudice are sitting together, as if going for a tea party. Did you arrange them yourself?" You only nodded to his question, too scared to answer. "The second interesting thing about this bookshelf is that all the books are so dual to each other. You have Harry Potter-" he pointed to the topmost shelf, "then you have 1984-" his fingers went to a handsome leather book, "and then finally you have a pop up children'd book." He laughed pointing to the bottom most shelf, where a glittery pink book lie. You blushed, as you saw that book. It was the book, which your best friend at the orphanage had given to you, before she was taken away. You cherished it a lot, it being the only form of love you had ever recieved in your life. "Woah you have Taylor Caldwell too!" Hyunjin said, excitedly, his fingers bouncing on the shelf closest to him, where a series of faded books lie. "Do you want them perhaps?" You asked him, to which he gave you a sad smile. "I've always loved her since the age of eleven but I could never buy any of her books, courtesy to my mum thinking they're too 'westernised'." "You can take some if you want. I hardly ever read these ones." You pulled out some of the books and put them in his hands. He looked surprised and his eyes widened at you. After much trial and error, which included him refusing to take the books, and you threatening to leave him out in the rain if he didn't take them, he finally stuffed then into his bag, thanking you over and over again.

The car ride to his home was fun, to say the least. Hyunjin narrated some funny stories with Minho and Felix, and a few of his other friends. You were shocked to find out that he used to be in a band, where he played the drums. "You must play them for me one day." You said, as you pulled up to a light. "as payback for the books." Hyunjin gave you that sweet smile again, causing your brain to malfunction.

"Thank you for the ride home Y/N. And for the books." Hyunjin said as you both pulled up to his house. "Say I have a question." He said, before unbuckling his seatbelt (drive safely kids). "Would you ever be interested in spending your lunch break with me everyday? Cause I really like talking to you and I don't have many friends at work. Only if you want to though!" God he was so adorable with those round eyes and those cute cheeks. Was he actually so cute or was your hopeless brain just making it up?

Aphrodite sighed again as she watched you silently from the bushes, happy that you were going on the right path, but worried about the trajectory of your mind.

Spending time with Hyunjin were the best moments of your life. It was surprisingly fun to spend a part of your day everyday with Hyunjin. It was just lunch and americanos, fresh from Minho's cafe, since it was the only one you liked now. You warmed up to him more than you had wanted to, and for the first time, your brain didn't mind being ruled by your heart. Hyunjin had introduced you to some of his closest friend, who came to visit him at work, making sure he didn't overwork himself. And he had interesting friends. Apart from Minho and Felix, there was a producer group called 3Racha who wrote songs for a company called JYP. It was composed of the three most kindest people you had ever met. Jisung, Changbin and Chan treated you like their own sister, often picking up an Americano for you whenever they got one for Hyunjin. You met Hyunjin's youngest friends Seungmin and Jeongin at Minho's cafe, when Jeongin bumped into your shoulder, dropping his books and apologizing to you frantically. Both of them were University students, one having a pottery studio and the other studying computer science. They were mischievous little things, but you loved them too, with you sharing Seungmin's love for pottery and Jeongin's hatred for sugary foods. It was so fun, having friends, even if they weren't your friends from the beginning. This was the first time you had experienced happiness ever since you were eight.

The words on your books weren't skimmed over by your eyes anymore. Instead they were carefully taken in, word by word, appreciating how every letter formed the beautiful sentence. Now, winter wasn't about surviving anymore. Instead it was about being warm and cosy, all wrapped up in a big blanket, hugging a plushie and drinking hot chocolate as pretty winter flakes poured outside the window. Now you digged out the sundresses you haven't worn in so long, and you would wear them to work every now and then, catching the eyes of every person you passed (because you are the most beautiful person on earth LOVE YOURSELF I LOVE YOU). You never noticed it, but now, Hyunjin looked at you differently. He wasn't a very defensive person, choosing to end arguments quickly, but whenever his eyes set upon your figure dancing in a yellow sundress, embroidered with flowers, he swore that he would burn done the entire world for you. Both of you regularly met up at each other's house, having k drama nights, where you would do nothing but cry over the slow burn, and try out a new snack from the local convenience store every time. Sometimes Hyunjin would play the drums for you, taking your excited requests of the 70's and 80's rock songs. It was all so perfect, having Hyunjin in your life and every time you saw him moving his own across a piece of paper, whipping up a cartoon for you as a gift, your heart smiled, urging you to let it take over for just a little longer.

But Aphrodite had something else in plan.

Sometimes the Gods plan sinister things for humans. Sometimes they say 'lets whip up conflict'. And most often it's not between one human and another. Most often it's between a human and her own mind. You had gotten a call on a nice Thursday morning, when you were about to set out for work, clad in a white dress, which reached your knees. A call from your adoptive parents. Unbeknownst to the entire world, behind your pretty face, you hid a grief filled secret behind those glassy eyes. Your childhood wasn't all sunshines and rainbows. You had grown up in an orphanage basically your entire life, and at the tender age of eleven, you had gotten adopted by a rich couple. Good right? Nope it was the polar opposite. Turns out they had adopted you for their own benefit, to gain support from the media to continue their company or some bullshit like that. It had haunted you all your life, how they would never speak a word to you, never a word of affection. It was just words of 'who would ever love you?' and 'you aren't capable of love'. When you had gotten accepted in college, with a full ride scholarship, they had help a party, not for you, but to brag that their daughter, whom they did not even love, had gotten into a college all by herself. They had turned their devil tails into angel wings and it angered you, but you stayed silent. Why should you fight battles with other people when you could fight a battle with your own mind? You had cut off all communications with them however as soon as you left for college. Now it was just you and the world. Getting a job was the hardest thing and you still remember all those days that you survived on water and biscuits, like Marie Curie, when she used to research on radioactivity. You had learnt that your 'parents's' buisness had gone bankrupt, soon after you had gotten a job, but they still hadn't ever contacted you until this Thursday. It was Seungmin's birthday today and you had gotten him a puppy keychain, one that he had been wanting for a long time, which he had told you about in secret. You had purchased it the day before and wrapped it up in a cute box, writing some notes on the top. It was supposed to be the most perfect day. Happiness and melted ice cream that was what this day was supposed to be.

"Hello?" You had picked up your mother's call and your world came crashing down immediately. "Hey there Y/N. We need some money right now and we know you work for Mr Kim. Send us some money please." Not even a hello. The woman who had given you food and shelter didn't even say a hello. The woman who you owed nothing to didn't even say hello.

Hyunjin wondered where you were that day. You wouldn't ever miss a day of work and plus you were excited for Seungmin's birthday. You were going to go for a birthday party which was to be held at Chan's house. Hyunjin had told you that most of the boys would be bringing their girlfriends so you could meet them. You wouldn't never have missed this, especially not when your eyes lit up, when he had told you that Seungmin would be singing for you guys and Minho would be bringing his famous meat. So why? Why was your chair lying all alone and your americano untouched? He had asked Mr Kim whether you had called him today, to which he got disappointment when Mr Kim said no. Your boss didn't really care whether or not you took breaks, since you mostly finished your work in advance, in order to save time. That day Hyunjin told the guys, that he wouldn't be coming to the party, much to their disappointment. But they understood when he said that he was worried for you. He basically talked about you 24/7 and the boys still didn't understand how their most romantic friend ever ended up not knowing what love was.

Hyunjin had an extra key to your house, which you had given him after two months of knowing him, trusting him enough to keep an emergency contact. Hyunjin kept fiddling with it on the cab ride to your place, massaging his nerves to calm himself down. As he reached your house, the atmosphere around him changed. It became gloomy, even when the Sun attacked him with his rays. The sunflowers in your garden all seemed to bow their heads to him, as if to apologise.

"Y/N?" Hyunjin stepped inside your house, calling your name. "Y/N where are you?" He shouted a little louder this time. If you weren't in the living room, you'd be up in your bedroom or the library. Hyunjin slowly climbed up the stairs to the second floor, taking in the eerie silence of the house. It was such a loud silence. He could hear something in the distance but he didn't know what it was. Was it a cat? He heard a wailing noise that sounded something like a wolf crying.

The door to your bedroom was open. Hyunjin stepped inside, careful not to make a sound. He knew how creepy this was, to enter a person's house like this, but he didn't have a choice. "Y/N?" He called out, noticing the light in your bathroom switched on. "Y/N!" You were sitting on the floor, with a knife next to you. Your hair was in tangles and your body swayed back and forth, As you kept mumbling something to yourself. Your upper arm was slightly bleeding and your breathing was heavy. You had been lying there for the entire morning. You were still in your dress,which was now stained with blood from your arm. Your face was tear stained and your eyes were glassy. "Y/n. Hey look at me. Look at me. I'm here." You looked up to see Hyunjin's worried face, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted again. "Hyunjin?" You breathed out in a weak voice, which made Hyunjin's heart drop to his knees. "Yes it's me. Hey breathe. Please breathe for me." He coached you through breathing in and out, which calmed you down a bit, but you were still shivering and your skin was ice cold and white. You looked like a ghost. A ghost with sunken eyes and shocked expression stuck on its face.

Hyunjin carefully lifted you up and carried you to your bed, careful not to disturb your injury, which he immediately knew how it happened, from the knife lying beside you. He got some cloth and medicine for you from the first aid kit you hid under your bed, something you had told him a long time ago. You watched him with wide eyes as he carefully dressed your wound and got some water for you, forcing you to drink it.

"What happened? And it's ok if you don't wanna tell me." He sat beside you as you leant back against the bed frame. You tried not to catch his eye because you knew if you looked into those galaxies inside his eyes, you would start weeping. "Nothing happened Hyunjin." You mumbled, to which he scoffed silently, getting his hand up to your forehead to check your temperature. It was normal, thankfully you didn't have a fever. "Y/n" he faced you and out his hand on yours. "You know you can tell me right? I'm here for you and I'm worried. Please tell me what happened." It all happened so quickly. You looked into his eyes, taking in the stars inside of them, and you couldn't hold it back anymore as you burst out crying. Hyunjin was quick to hug you, holding your head gently as you buried yourself deeper in his chest, staining his grey shirt. His heart was breaking into a milion pieces, seeing his universe crying out her planets from her eyes. He shushed you from time to time, to make sure you don't become weak from crying.

"Y/N hey hey." He held you head in his hands, cupping your cheeks. "What's wrong? Just one word. Tell me one word. I beg you." You sniffled slightly and looked up at him, stopping you're tears slowly. You felt guilty, for him coming to you. Why should he? He's a human like you and he has responsibilities too and he should tend to them, not you. "Hyunjin, you should go. Y-you have S-Seungmin's party to attend. I'll be fine." Hyunjin knew how much you rejected being taken care of. Care was was word which simply never existed in your dictionary, courtesy to your past.

"Y/N-" "No Hyunjin!" You lashed out at him, tears brewing again in your eyes. Hyunjin now understood why the sunflowers outside had bowed to him, and why the aura was grey today. You had bottled up your feelings again, and one single word from a person of your past, was enough to break you. "I don't want help I don't need it! Just leave me alone! I don't want to be around you!" You panted a bit after shouting all that, your chest feeling heavy, not from the weight of your exhaustion, but from the weight of the entire world around you "Get out. Now."

The next few days, you came back to work, you avoided Hyunjin. You couldn't bear to look at his face, knowing that the stars in your eyes will collapse again if you do. You both worked in complete silence, with Hyunjin silently putting the completed illustrations in your desk, whenever you left to go to the bathroom. You now left at 9 am, instead of your usual 10 am along with Hyunjin. Your americanos seemed even more bitter now that you had no one to share your memories with. Every song in the world sounded like the same mundane melody now, chords repeating over and over again.

But Aphrodite always have something in plan, for souls like yours and Hyunjin's.

Hyunjin had been comforted by his friends for a week now. Every week, he would turn up at either Felix or Chan's house and cry to them. It broke their hearts to see their dearest friend weep and sob over you. You, on the other hand, would sometimes turn up to Minho, drinking his americano and venting your feelings, while he silently grilled his meat and put it on your plate. What you didn't know was that Hyunjin would be hiding silently behind the counter, listening to the notes of your voice talk about him. So one fine Saturday morning, he decided to do something. Something that would finally satisfy Aphrodite, and make her drop her roses down to earth to celebrate.

"Y/N." He called your name as you focused on your most recent article. "Y/N." He said again, when you didn't respond. "Y/N for Pete's sake, talk to me!" He basically shouted at you. You were staying back late tonight, courtesy to the hundreds of things you had to edit, due to your numerous amount of holidays. "Not now Hyunjin. I have to edit this." You spoke sternly, abandoning the fun filled voice you usually used when you were with him.

Hyunjin frowned at you, this time an actual frown, not like the playful ones he did when you would steal his meat from his plate. He was angry. He was angry at the world and at your mind for not treating you well. He was angry at your past, for making you believe that you were unworthy of love. He was furious and he would take it out right now, when no one except for you two were in the office building.

"Y/N listen to me!" He shouted, making you startled. You had gotten up from your seat and now you were cowering against a wall. You had never seen Hyunjin like this before, eyes narrowed and lips closed, burning anger seeping through them.

"Y/N you are quite possibly the most amazing person I have ever had the pleasure to meet in my stupid life. The way you walk the way you talk, everything about you is so amazing! It's so magnificent to me, how everyday you would explain the meaning behind a song, with your eyes all widened and your mouth moving fast! And it hurts me. It hurts me so much to see you like this, thinking that you are unworthy of love." His words were hitting you like bowling balls. "When you told me about your past, you know what I felt? I felt anger. True anger for the first time in my life. For the first time in my life, I wanted to burn down this entire world for a person. I was also so relieved that you trusted me enough to tell me about something like this. You really think I can't see the scars on your wrist through your foundation?" The scars on your wrist. How did he know about that? "Hyunjin-" you breathed out, crystals forming in your eyes again. "Y/N it breaks me. It breaks me so much to have a person like you in my life and not love them. I love you more than you can imagine. So why won't you accept it?"

"Because I can't!" The words spilled from your mouth like water spilling from a waterfall. "I can't Hyunjin! I don't know what love feels like! I never did! An-and when you came into my life and introduce me to all these amazing people, I felt so happy! For the first time in this dumb thing I call my life I felt happy. And I hated it! I hated the way Felix's eyes would light up every time he saw me. I hated the way Chan would always check up on me, making sure I don't overwork myself. I hated the way Minho would treat me like his own family, making sure I got the biggest portions of meat." Everything that you had kept hidden in that crack of your soul came running out. "I hated the way Jeongin looks up to me, telling me he admires the way I work! And you know what I hate the most out of all? I hate you! I hate the way you care so much for me and my stupid brain can't see it! The way you draw little cartoons on my americanos, the way you talk to me as if you were talking to a gentle lamb! I hate it Hyunjin! I hate myself for not seeing how much you love me! And I hate that I can't return the favour!"

Your knees gave way and you collapsed on the floor, sobbing your eyes out. Hyunjin was quick to kneel down next to you, hands searching for yours. Both of you looked into each other's eyes, seeing your entire universe's inside of them. You need love. You needed love to exist. And Hyunjin was there just to do that.

He leaned closer to you, eyes not leaving yours. He knew he had to do it now. Now or never right? Hyunjin, cupped your cheek with his left hand, right one still squeezing yours, and kissed you. He kissed you as if you were the most beautiful thing in the world. He kissed you as if you were the reincarnation of his last lover. He kissed you as if he had been wanting to kiss you for the last fifteen years. He kissed you, and you kissed him back. Your lips moved in sync with his, not moving away, hands wrapped safely around each other, both of you shielded from whatever the world was planning next. Time moved slowly again, as if the spinners of time had abandoned their looms to come watch you two.

And somewhere in the clouds, Aphrodite smiled, knowing that her mission was complete, and that two loveless souls had finally reunited, mending each other's cracks, slowly but surely.

Epilouge

"Hyunjin! We're going to be late! Hurry your ass!" You called out to your boyfriend of five years, as you waited by the door, bag clutched in hand, and white sundress flowing softly. The ash coloured cat you had both adopted, rubbed against your legs, purring and licking herself. Hyunjin had organised a 'special' date today, taking you to one of your most favourite places, a meadow by the beach, where you used to spend your days. It was already late in tbe evening, when Hyunjin finally came down from the steps of your house, still fixing his hair. "Alright Miss Universe, stop fixing your hair and come on!" You said, causing him to giggle, as both of you got in the car and drove off towards the sunset.

"God I love this place so much." You stretched your arms as you watched the dying sun, collapse into the ocean. "More than me?" Hyunjin pouted, as you slapped his chest playfully. "Oh god are those Minho's Macarons? These things are drugs to me." Both of you took a Macaron each, and raised them in the air, as if to make a toast. "Well, to our five year anniversary." Hyunjin toasted while you said 'hear hear!'.

"Y/N, I have a gift for you." You both had eaten all your food and we're slightly leaning against a tree, wrapped in each other's warmth. "What is it Hyun?" Hyunjin pulled out a paper from his pocket. A link sticky note. With Purple glitter pen scribbled on it.

Marry me Y/N?

"I thought I should do it in the way we first talked to each other. You know to make it more roma-" Hyunjin didn't get to complete his sentence, as you threw yourself around him, kissing him on his lips, as if you didn't kiss him every single day.

And Aphrodite couldn't stop giggling and smiling, knowing that now, love existed. And you? Oh you loved the existence of love.

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #skz hyunjjn #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin comfort #skz fic #hyunjin fic #hwang hyunjin comfort #hwang hyunjin fluff #skz #stray kids #skz comfort #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #FINALLY I GOT THIS DONE #oh my god this took so much time to write #bye bye now #have fun reading

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palbabor-writes · 4 years

Note

Hellooo queen I hope you had/will have a great day. This is actually my first time requesting something so I’m very sorry if I do something wrong 🥺🥺... can you maybe write some fluff (OR NSFW I DONT MIND... just love him way too much damn) stuff for dabi?? I don't know if you only take requests with exact instructions or if this request is enough... if you need something more precise i will try to come up with something! Thank you very much!!

Hello, love! You did it perfectly & thank you so much for asking! I can be a bit of a lurker on things, so I totally get how much courage it takes to do one of these.

You did amazing & I love, love this question. I love it so much that I went ahead and took an old outline of mine & made it into a full blown fic for you!

Now, in honor of all the craziness swirling around our favorite flame user, Imma post it a little earlier then I’d planned! So, thank you for the ask & I hope to talk to you again ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7496

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW 18+ only, mentions of blood and gore, heat play, dick piercings, adult language and freaking Dabi. That alone should warn you.

Thermós θερμός ther·mos adjective m (feminine θερμή, neuter θερμόν); warm, hot, boiling, glowing

It’s sweltering; the fervor of summer sticky, humid, and oppressive. Japan is in the throes of August, and this heatwave is not letting up. Even at night, it’s impossible for Dabi to get comfortable. He’s been lying, half naked, draped across his narrow twin mattress for the last few hours, sweating.

His quirk isn’t helping matters.

He’s been trying to recruit new members. Every day, he sets out, pounding the pavement, sifting through the bits and pieces of trash that he runs into. It’s a pity. If those scrubs weren’t so fucking pathetic, he might not be in this predicament. But they are, and now he’s having to suffer the consequences of his temper.

His phone gleams on his dilapidated side table, a text message chiming across the screen as it flashes a speck of brightness into the darkened room. Groaning, he leans over and snatches it up, his hands slick as he clutches the encased plastic.

It’s Toga.

As a rule, he tries to avoid her. He hates her chatter. It’s always some unending nonsense about those UA kids, about Stain, or about fucking blood. It’s always blood with her. Give her five minutes, and she’ll work it into her conversation somehow, even if it’s just blurting it out, a blush staining her cheeks.

Fucking freak.

[ Blondie: 12:34 am ]

- found smth 4 u. (Y/N) has a place. Keeps it @ like 60 degrees… lol

Well, disgusting as Toga is, she has her uses; he thinks as he reads her text.

He’d asked her, a few days before, if she knew a place where he could crash. Somewhere that had some goddamn air conditioning. The hideout’s unit is on the fritz again, not that it had ever worked all that well.

Hmm, well this is something, at least.

Dabi’s isn’t sure what to think about Toga’s little ‘find’. You were a newer recruit, someone that Compress had brought in.

He hadn’t paid much attention to you. You didn’t stay at the base and were only around if there was a specific mission, or a task, that Shigaraki set for you. He isn’t even sure what your quirk is. You seemed easy-going, neutral, but he doubted you’d extend that easy-going demeanor to him camping out at your place for the A/C.

Chucking his phone back on the side table, Dabi flops to his side and tries to drift off, hoping his exhaustion will let him ignore the suffocating heat he’s drowning in.

Fuck.

He’d done it again. It was hard to resist the urge when these people spouted such vague fucking bullshit at him. No one, not fucking one of them, could live up to his cause. And if they couldn’t meet that standard? Well, they were better off as ash, melting into blackened pools as the asphalt greedily soaked their blood into its cracked depths.

There is a heat advisory today.

He’d heard the news as he scarfed down a quick breakfast at the hideout’s bar. He wouldn’t be out for that long, he reasoned. Besides, maybe today he’d find someone good.

Wishful thinking on his part.

His skin feels oppressive and his staples and piercings are scalding, the metal hissing and steaming as he tries to dampen his quirk. It’s harder to regulate his temperature on hot days. He shouldn’t be out here, he thinks, snarling as he pats out a few rogue flames that catch on his dark jacket. Even lifting his arm to perform that simple task makes him grunt, hissing out a mantra of curses.

Shit, fuck, goddamn it fucking all.

He looks bitterly up at the sun and debates his next move.

He could retreat to the bar, but that doesn’t solve his problem. No, the viscous heat that radiated along those upper floors would just make his skin feel worse. Hell, it might even result in more mottling, his burns stretching farther along his arms and chest. He’s not going back to the bar.

Where the fuck even is he?

He peers down the alley toward the street. It’s not too busy; just after noon, so most of the foot traffic from the morning has died down. He yanks his hood up, ignoring the ache of his legs as he stalks toward the street corner.

Carefully, he pokes out, his eyes tracing over the crosswalk, looking for the street signs. Ah. He’s close to that address, your address, that Toga sent him.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he saunters along the pavement, careful to keep his head down.

You were out of town.

He’d picked up that tidbit from Compress this morning. The masked man had been lamenting that you might be away for a few days, possibly weeks. Something about being on a fact finding task for that shadowy voice that talked with Shigaraki from his tv.

He didn’t care, still doesn’t. All he knows is that you supposedly keep your place cold, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

You’ve got a nice apartment.

It’s decorated in pleasing whites, yellows, reds and greens, with clean lines and modern touches. It’s kinda like you, he considers as he shrugs his coat off and breathes in that amazing waft of cold A/C. You’ve been useful to have in the League; efficient and no nonsense about the missions you're given and you can fit in with the outside world. You’d give even Toga a run for her money when it comes to espionage, he’s heard others say about you.

Dabi tosses a distasteful glare at your narrow couch and pads toward your bedroom, shouldering the door open and stepping into the dark sanctuary.

Your bed looks nice. It’s a good size too.

Lifting his boots from his feet and stripping down to his boxers, he presses into your clean sheets; shivering as the chilly air hits his overheated skin, cooling and dampening that oppressive sense of heat. He’s out in seconds, his body relaxing, slackening as he falls into the void of his dreams.

Yeah, now that he’s had this, there’s no way he’s staying at that hideout of the League’s unless he has to.

You’re gone for the better part of a week.

He’s started asking Compress about you. At first, the older man had given him an impassive stare. Since when did Dabi even know your name?

He’s asking because he needs to talk with you about… uh… supplies?

This, apparently, is the correct thing to say, because Compress nods his head sagely and elaborates on your timetable. You’re collecting things for Kurogiri and you’ll be gone for another few days.

Good, Dabi thinks, slinking into your apartment again, lowering the window behind him. He’s careful to leave things as he found them, his entryway into your place included. You don’t need to know about this.

What the fuck would he even say to you?

Hey, uh, it’s fucking hot at the hideout, and since you’ve got a working A/C unit and like 3 fans, he’s been sleeping over at yours. No big deal, right?

Even after you return, he keeps sneaking in.

He’s gotten your schedule memorized, and he’s heedful of the hours you keep. You’re a little more regular than the others in the League. You actually sleep at night; unlike the rest. The others are often out at God knows what hour, combing for recruits and leads, but not you.

So, Dabi shifts into full night owl mode. He crashes at your place in the midmorning, after you leave for the day, trying to ignore the perfume that comes from your sheets.

You’ve got a nice smell.

It’s oddly comforting, and he hates when he accidentally burrows into your pillows; nostrils flared, inhaling that aroma that’s all you. While he’s never talked with you before this, he goes out of his way to ignore you now.

What he’s doing is fucking weird, and lines are blurring. The other week he’d bumped into you coming out of the bar and he’d almost snatched you to him.

You must have just showered, because that fucking scent was radiating off your skin. It’s nothing too, eh, feminine? No, it’s more like… oranges and sandalwood. It’s a heady blend of rich balsamic and citrus, and he can’t get it out of his head.

August has faded into September, and he’s still sleeping over at yours.

He can’t help it. It’s not his fault your bed is so downy and, fuck, cool. It’s like the sheets don’t absorb his warmth. No, they’re always cold and they feel so fucking good against his staples and burned skin.

It’s midmorning, closer to noon, and he’s dozing, his eyes heavy and drooping. He’s exhausted, so bone tired, that he doesn’t hear your door opening. No, he doesn’t even notice you until he hears your voice.

“Um, would you like to tell me why you’re in my bed?”

He’s on his feet in a flash, a slow flicking of blue flames tracing along his fingers. You’re framed in your doorway, eyes wide, stepping away from his aggressive stance.

“Woah, woah,” you begin, lifting your hands in supplication. “Let’s just… take a minute and talk. I’m not-”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he snaps, his cerulean eyes narrowing, but he dampens his fire, a long curling of smoke framing his face.

“Uh, I think you got that backward there, bud. You’re not supposed to be here, I live here,” you scoff, one hand propping on your hip, head tilted exaggeratedly.

Dabi is about to spit something else out when you stride into your bedroom, tugging your jacket off and sauntering over to a tall dresser. He snaps his mouth closed and watches you. He’s not sure how he’s going to talk his way out of this, and he’s grateful for the reprieve. But, he knows an onslaught of anger or, fuck, preserve him, a lecture is incoming. Worst case, he thinks, observing you from his peripheral as you tug out a long shirt and some shorts, you’ll just kick him out and that will be that.

You glance at him again, your eyes lingering over his exposed chest and legs, and he can’t help the scowl that breaks over his face. He’s not embarrassed, he’s just, well, he’s not sure how to classify that stare. Most people recoil or toss him a glance of pity, their brows wrinkled with worry and distaste. But you? You arched an eyebrow and smiled.

Fucking weirdo.

Pausing in your doorway, you bite your lip into your mouth and carefully speak your next statement, voice smooth. “Look, while I’d rather you, oh, I don’t know, asked me about staying here. I’m not in the mood to argue with you, and I’ve got a long journey ahead of me tonight.” You take a deep inhale and toss him another smile.

“Just… just lay back down and get some rest. I promise I won’t molest you,” you tease, and he snaps his head up at that, his chin jutting in agitation.

You laugh at his sour face and he feels wrong-footed; lost. What the fuck? Who says shit like that? Who is in their right mind is just, oh, no worries man, promise I won’t grab your dick?

What’s wrong with you?

“I’m going to change and then I’m going to go to sleep. You can go, or you can stay, I really don’t care. All I know is that I’m not going to sleep on the couch when I’m in my apartment.” You retort, that grin still lifting your lips as you step away, the wall shielding you from his view.

Dabi remains where he is; standing in your bedroom, clad in his boxers, his hands clenched into fists by his side. Somehow this is worse than you throwing him out.

You return a few minutes later and he can’t get a good look at you. You slink past him and are under your covers in an instant. Not that he’s trying to give you a once over, he snarls to himself, shaking his inky head.

You nestle into the comforter and turn to your side, leaving him plenty of room on the opposite end of the bed. He blinks at you, a deep welling of uncertainty nestling in his stomach.

You’re quiet for a long moment, your eyes closing and shoulders relaxing, acting like there’s not a wanted, deadly villain in your bedroom, paces from your side. Then, you twist, giving him a quick scan, your eyes lingering over his.

“Either lay down or get out, Dabi. I’m not going to be able to sleep with you glaring at me like that. You look like some kinda ghost.”

Your declaration provokes a huffing, agitated reaction out of him. If there’s one thing Dabi hates, it’s being told what to do.

He slings himself beside you, splaying out, his body laying on top of the sheets. You chuckle, your head peeking at him over your shoulder. He ignores you and tries to close his eyes.

It feels strange, resting next to you like this. It’s… intimate, and he’s not sure if he hates or likes the sensation. He chances a glance at you, but you’ve already turned back to your side, your shoulders rising and lowering rhythmically. He shakes his head at your blasé reaction. How can you just, fuck, sleep?

He can’t get comfortable and his skin feels heavy again. It’s not heat this time. No, now something else is making everything feel too close, too warm.

He dampens his thoughts, mind frantically focusing on anything but you. As the sun slips behind the buildings across the street, his eyes lower and he fitfully sleeps, your rich smell filling his senses.

He’d left you in the night; tucking his clothes back on and easing out of your window.

True to your word, you’d relegated yourself to your side of the bed, hardly tossing or turning as you slept. As he paced back to the hideout, he wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. He just hoped you’d keep your mouth shut. He didn’t want the others knowing about this, it felt, well it’s not like him. Abrasive- fucking spewing anger and vitriol? Yeah, that was him. But this? This was too soft, too gentle. He hated it.

But that’s the problem with hate. It’s terribly close to that other emotion. They’re sisters, really. Usually love and hate exist on two sides, but they’re still the same coin, no matter how you toss them.

You don’t act any differently after that night.

You keep coming to the hideout, giving him a vague smile and greeting before continuing your day. He’s acting differently, though. He can’t help but watch you, suddenly fascinated with how you move. He tries his best to shake himself from his musings, but sometimes he can’t help it.

If anything, he grumbles to himself, watching you chatter with Toga, you’re subtly going out of your way to place yourself in front of him. You were never around this much before. Well, maybe you were. He didn’t pay you any mind back then, but now? Now he can’t get enough of you.

He reacts when you laugh, or talk, his head turning, like a sunflower, toward the light you give off. Ugh. His only hopeful reprieve from this, from you, is the changing seasons. The days are getting shorter and that heatwave is finally, finally breaking.

It’s his one comfort, his saving grace.

Yeah, he should have fucking never tossed that wish into the universe.

No, another heatwave passes over the island and it’s the worst one yet. The daily temperatures have been hitting the low 100s and the nights aren’t much better. To make matters worse, the A/C at the hideout has given up the ghost and won’t turn on at all now.

Still, Dabi’s prepared. He’d bought a secondhand electric fan a few weeks ago, and he’s grateful for the tiny slice of paradise that it grants him. It’s not as nice as your apartment, or your bed, but it will do.

He’s laying across his mattress, sweat trickling down his back and shoulders, trying to ignore that ache in his burned skin. The fan is blowing across him and he’s about to crank it up a notch when it gives out an ominous sputter.

Dabi sits up, his eyes flashing. No, no, no, no. There’s no fucking way.

The fan’s blades are slowing, that sweet, cool air dampening, drifting into the low-lying humidity that surrounds him. He yanks the plug from the wall, his staples stinging as he stands. He stomps over to the outlet and plugs the fan back in, turning on his haunches to see if the blades will start that familiar whirl.

There’s fuck all happening.

Cursing, he kicks the shitty thing over and grabs his jacket, storming down the stairs and into the night.

You’re sleeping when he slinks under your window sill, sliding the glass shut and kicking his heavy boots to the floor. It’s that sound that wakes you, and you lift yourself up, your sheets falling from your chest, revealing a bare shoulder and low cut shirt to him. Unabashed by your appearance, you wipe a palm over your eyes, rubbing the sleep away and croaking out a greeting.

“When I said you could sleep over here, I didn’t mean you could barge in at all hours. And through my window? So, that’s why the hinge looks like that.”

Dabi considers you for a moment, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. You tilt your head at him and suck your teeth.

“A, oh, I don’t know, sorry, would be nice?” you scold, that alluring smile lifting your lips. He follows the line of your mouth, his thoughts hazing over, focusing on some other, darker, daydream.

“Hello?” you call, waving your hand beside your face. “Earth to Dabi. What do you want?”

That question slips him out of his stupor and he lifts his eyes back to yours. “The A/C is out. Bought a fan a few weeks ago, but the fucking thing broke and I can’t… it’s hard to regulate my body temperature in this fucking heat. You keep this place like an icebox, so I started crashing here. Wasn’t planning on coming back, but after tonight-”

“Ok, ok,” you laugh, already scooting over and flinging the covers back. “Seeing as you didn’t try any funny business last time, I guess I’ll let it slide. Just, not to be rude, but shut up and let me sleep. I’ve gotta long day tomorrow and as enthralling as this conversation is…”

“Whatever,” Dabi mutters, slinging his damp shirt over his head and pacing over to the side of your bed. You blink up at him and shake your head, that tiny grin lingering. He presses into your familiar sheets, eyes already slipping closed as the fragrance of you pulls at him.

It’s early when he wakes, shuddering out of a nightmare, red flames and crying voices fading into the back of his mind.

Wincing, he raises a hand to his eyes and pulls at his face, relieved that it’s still cool air that meets him. As he rolls to his side, he feels something trace over his unscarred chest. The sensation makes him freeze, his eyes snapping open again, the cerulean searching, whisking over the dim figure beside him.

You’re still sleeping, but you’ve shifted, your body curled, facing him, and one of your hands is reaching toward him. Shit, he thinks, heart pounding in his ears. You’re so close.

He’s never been this close to you.

Your mouth is parted, delicate lips plush and soft in the early morning gloom. He tries to shift away, but your brow creases when he does, so he stills his movements, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore that flush that is building across his nose.

This is stupid. It’s just you. It’s not like the two of you have even done anything. Fuck, you barely talk with one another.

He burrows his head into his pillow and the shift of his body urges you closer to him, your hand opening and pressing to his skin. A sigh slips from your mouth as your fingers splay out, tapping against his warmth, and he nearly startles off the bed.

He looks down at your hand, aghast. He wants to move it off of him; can’t stand that you’re touching him, he tells himself, that you’re this close to him. But he can’t bring himself to move. Your hand is so delicate, so…

Unconscious, you turn from him, your fingers lifting on their own, curling back to you. Dabi almost moans as you slip from him, clamping down on the sudden, primal desire that races through him. He wants to grab you; to drag you back to him.

The hell? What the fuck is wrong with him?

Sucking his teeth, he turns over, facing away from the confusing neediness that’s lapping at his subconscious. He fluffs his pillow aggressively, trying to drown out all the raw emotions that are racing through his mind.

Forget it. Sleep.

When he wakes again, you’re gone.

The sheets where you slept are cold under his fingertips and he sits up, his arms resting on his knees. This whole situation is so fucking weird.

He lets himself ease into consciousness before standing and stretching out the leftover kinks in his muscles; stooping to grab his discarded shirt, pulling the fabric over his head and shaking his dark head against the sunlight. Just as he’s slipping his coat on, he notices the note that’s sitting on one of your bedroom chairs. It’s got his name on it, so he snatches it up, flipping open the folded paper.

“There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, I won’t have time to eat it. Help yourself. There’s also a spare key on the coffee table. Take it and stop jimmying my window open.”

Scoffing, he crumples the paper up, tossing it over his shoulder as he paces into your kitchen.

It’s a fucking thing now.

He’s rarely at the hideout. Why bother? You don’t seem to care if he sleeps over. Hell, you make space for him. There’s gotta be something else to it; there has to be. What kinda idiot is so fucking accommodating? You act like you’re a fucking hostel or something. Well, a hostel where there’s only one bed.

You even bought another fan. You told him you don’t like to keep the overhead one on in the cooler weather, so he can use this one for his side of the bed.

Yeah, he’s got a goddamn side of the bed. It’s fucking insane.

The other members of the League either haven’t noticed what’s going on between the two of you, or they don’t care. It’s not like either of you talk about your sleeping habits. Fuck, you still never interact with him at the hideout, content to maintain that level of professionalism.

He’s not sure why it bothers him.

One night, the temperature drops into the low 40s and he’s stretched out on your blankets, enjoying the first real cold snap of the fall, when he sees you shivering. It’s not very noticeable, what with the way you’re turned away and bundled, but it makes him tilt his head toward you, watching.

Another pass of his fan has you repeating the quake and, without thinking, he pulls you closer, one long arm wrapping around your shoulder and tugging. Startled, you fight his hold, but he calms your movements with a squeeze, grumbling about your stoic reluctance.

What’s the big deal? It’s not like you haven’t brushed up against him before. Calm down.

You quiet after that and slowly, tentatively, you lean against his bare chest, your cheek cool against his heated skin. He tucks his chin over your head and tries to keep his breathing even. He doesn’t want you to hear, fuck, feel his heartbeat; it’s slamming its way out of his throat and he gulps when your fingers pull him closer.

“How are you so warm?” you ask, your breath floating across his pectorals.

“It’s my stupid quirk,” Dabi mutters, dipping his head down to his pillow, shifting you with him. You nod against his lean muscles and your fingertips trace cool designs into his skin, lingering over his burnt patches and staples. He sighs, unable to resist the low shiver that creeps up his spine.

This is nice; too fucking nice.

He can’t do without your touch now.

Remember that thing about love and hate being sisters? Well, that hate is simmering into something else for Dabi. It’s not love, he doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s certainly not hate anymore.

He likes touching you. You’re smooth against his jagged skin and he enjoys the contrast. He’s slow when he pulls you against him, careful to not snag you against his staples, but you seem to like his heat. You’ve even started wearing less to bed, slipping out of that baggy shirt and into a thin tank top; he’s pleased that he has more of you to caress.

It’s getting harder to keep you out of his head. He can smell your perfume, even if he hasn’t seen you for days, and each time he does see you, even at the hideout, his fingers itch to press against you.

You’d laughed at his sudden, intense, interest. The hell Dabi, are you touch starved or something? You’d teased. What’s up with you? I was worried about you burning down my apartment, not you turning into some kind of cuddle fiend.

He doesn’t care what you say. He knows it’s fucking stupid, fucking dumb, that he’s this desperate. It just feels good. And there’s not much about him that feels good these days, so he’ll take what he can get. Fuck you very much.

There’s a meeting. It’s one of the ones where Shigaraki demands that everyone make their way to the bar.

Boss man has been tense lately, thrumming with some dark energy, so the room is quiet as Kurogiri elaborates on the smaller details of the mission. Your part is minimal, limited to reconnaissance with Toga. It’s boring shit, and Dabi is only half listening to any of it.

Besides, there’s something else that’s snagging his attention.

Dabi is sitting on the couch, his eyes lingering on you. You’re wearing one of his favorite outfits and the color looks good on you. It brings out your eyes. You’re questioning Spinner and Toga about the finer points of your team up. He can’t hear you from here, but that doesn’t matter, he’s still in the best spot to spy you leaning forward, perfect ass on full display.

“She’s gotten better, more adept at working undercover,” Compress’ voice shakes Dabi from his thoughts and he turns to him, a bland frown on his face.

“Who?”

“Please, you know who I’m talking about. You can’t stop looking at her.”

He chortles, his laugh a sharp bark. “You’re fucking joking. Her? Fuck, no. I’m gonna head out, not like the boss has anything for me anyway,” Dabi stands, slipping his hands into his trench coat and pacing to the heavy door, shouldering his way into the night.

He leans against the brick wall, lighting up a cigarette and sighing a thin line of smoke into the chilled air. Fuck, they’re noticing what’s going on. Wait. What is going on? It’s not like the two of you are fucking. Yet, a small voice echoes in the back of his mind, and he smirks at that thought.

Yeah, maybe it’s time to speed things up.

You step out a few minutes later, your eyes searching for him. He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and wraps his fingers in your coat, tugging you to him. You don’t fight him; don’t make a sound as he pins you against the brick, his body hot against your front.

The two of you watch the other, his cerulean eyes roving over your face. Then he’s lifting your chin, his lips sliding across yours. It’s a strange kiss. Usually, he’s too busy trying to get off to focus on his partner. He rarely kisses anyone, even if he’s hooking up. But this kiss?

Like everything else about you, it’s fucking nice.

You move with him, your body surging from the brick, breasts flattening against his chest, fingers cupping behind his ears; nipping and sucking at him, your teeth digging into his burned lower lip and pulling. You’re encouraging him to touch you next, rubbing yourself on him until his hands fall to your hips. He’s already half hard, and that warm juncture of your thighs isn’t helping matters.

To his shock, he’s having trouble keeping up.

You’re already pulling from him when he dips his tongue into your mouth. He gasps at the emptiness, that chilling vacancy that your touch leaves him panting into. Before he can bemoan your absence, you’re kissing at his neck, lifting on your tiptoes to reach the staples on the side of his face. You lick at him, your wet tongue dragging over his burns. He trembles under your hands and you smile, your laugh bright.

Snarling, Dabi yanks your head back and you meet his hazy gaze, biting your lip; pantomiming a wonton innocence. Immediately, he’s pushing you into the brick, his hands cupping and lingering until you’re whining for him. That’s fucking better, he thinks, his teeth worrying against your pulse.

Just when he’s got you where he wants you, your hand snakes between the two of you, pressing against the bulge of his dick. Dabi can’t help his sharp intake of air, and his head falls to your shoulder as he ruts into your palm. You keep kissing at the side of his face, your lips roving over his ear as you tug at his covered dick. You’re saying something, but he can’t focus when you’re doing that.

“Dabi,” you try again, teeth ensnaring his destroyed earlobe, sucking at the burnt skin. “They’re about to come out.”

He knocks your hand away from his straining, throbbing length and leans away from you. Fuck, you look good.

Your lips are swollen, and your eyes are dazzling. He can’t pull himself away. You smile at his dazed expression and lift a hand to his cheek, your palm cool against his overheated skin.

The door shudders open and the two of you spring apart. A few minutes later Toga is grabbing at your arm and pulling you down the street, away from him.

He’s waiting outside your apartment, another cigarette smoldering to ash under his lips. But he can’t bring himself to go in.

Not without you.

Toga’s kept you busy. It’s been over an hour since that kiss in the alleyway. He’s cooled off since then, but that simmering heat that you elicited from him? That hasn’t dimmed. He’s still half hard against his dark pants and he can’t bring himself to care. Besides, Dabi has a very specific idea about how he’s going to have you lessen that pressure for him.

He’s just about to light another cigarette when he sees you.

You walk into your building, and he starts the long climb up the fire escape. His heart is pounding again. He hasn’t wanted something this badly in ages. He’s been so fucking focused on his cause, on making his plans a reality; he just hasn’t had the time.

But now? Fuck, he wants there to be more hours in the day. He’s hoping the two of you can pick up where you left off. Yeah, he tells himself, scaling the last few steps, it’s just about the sex.

That sounds better than saying what he really wants.

You’re already slipping your oversized sleep shirt over your head when he lifts your window. You pause, watching him curl his way into your space. Once he pulls his legs inside he turns to you, his eyes dark, unfathomable, the blue so deep that you feel you’re drowning in it.

He doesn’t shut the window. Instead, he yanks his clothes off, clattering them against your floor. You smile and a gentle laugh makes its way to him.

“What did I say about coming in through the window?” you chuckle, already lifting your arms for him.

He’s against you in a single breath, his warmth seeping its way into your chilled skin. His lips are rough, pressing and lifting, biting and nipping. He’s working you toward your bed and once your knees hit the edge of your mattress, he’s shoving you down.

You flop against the cold blankets, your legs already spreading for his hips. He’s hot, scaldingly hot, against your hands. Your fingers dip into his hair and you pull him back, earning a low growl and his flashing glare, displeasure written all over his face.

“Slow down,” you scold, your legs wrapping around his hips, grinding against the hardness you find.

“The fuck? You goddamn tease. Fucking saying that, then rubbing your wet pussy all over my dick,” Dabi snarls, snatching your wrists and pinning your hands beside your head.

“How do you know it’s wet?” you ask, batting your eyes at his steeled jaw.

“It fucking better be,” he groans, his teeth sinking into your neck and pressing, hard.

You gasp at the stimulation and arch for him, testing his hold on your wrists. Grunting, he licks a wet line to your pulse, his hands tightening over yours. “Mmm, why don’t you find out?” you ask, leaning into his lips, loving the contrast of his destroyed and perfect skin.

He shifts his grip on you, yanking your arms up, pinning your hands above your head. He lifts one of his own hands away once he’s satisfied he’s got a good hold on you. His warm fingers trace down your side, pausing when he gets to the lacy band of your panties. Teasingly, he pulls fabric away from your skin, and lets it snap against your hip. Dabi tips his nose into the curve of your neck and shoulder, taking a deep drag against you.

You buck your hips, squirming under his weight. “You get lost? My pussy is a little further down.”

He chuckles darkly, his breath making you shiver. You’re just about to wriggle from him when one long finger eases past your panties and presses into your sopping heat. “Oh,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back. It feels like he’s heated his fingertip, and the skin that’s stroking and thrusting into you is warm, too warm.

Dabi leans away from your neck, bracing himself above you with his knees, pulling himself into a hunched position. He’s smirking at your awed expression and his teeth glow in the darkness.

“Like I said doll, you’re already so fucking wet for me. You want more?”

You nod and buck your hips, digging that finger deeper. He groans at your eagerness and you can feel him warming the next digit up, the tip burning against the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

Once it’s in, he starts to v the two, dragging them along your rippling walls, spreading you open, easing you into his hand. Your slick is sliding down your legs and seeping into the sheets. Still, Dabi keeps on, maintaining that steady stretch. It starts to sting and you shift away, but he releases your wrists, free hand moves to your hip, stilling you.

You glance up at him, curious. His eyes are hooded, the blue a velvety sapphire. He looks like he’s holding himself back from something. Almost like… like he’s handling you with more care than he’s ever given anything. It’s a strange thought, but the idea of it makes you reach for him, your fingers running down his discolored skin, lingering over the staples and piercings.

“I’ve gotta stretch you out,” he informs you, his eyes closing behind his trembling eyelids, savoring your gentle caress.

“Hmm, you that big?” you joke, fully expecting him to react, to silence you with a kiss or another well-timed thrust of his fingers. But he surprises you. He opens his eyes and fixes you with a rough stare, his digits continuing that aching pull. You’re throbbing around him, your arousal easing his passage, his extensions.

“I don’t want to… hurt-” he stops, his eyes narrowing. With an inaudible sigh, he slides down your body, only halting once he’s face to face with your sleek cunt. His breath heaves against you and you wrap a leg over his back, holding him close.

Dabi laves his tongue over you, latching onto your pulpy clit and giving it a soft suck. Your hands sink into his hair, curling into the spiky tendrils, urging him to give you more.

He rewards your needy moans with another lick and he flicks his eyes up to yours, watching you over your shaking curves.

“I’m going to add another finger,” he tells you, preparing you for another deep stretch. When he enters you almost pull from him, your hips bowing away at the pricking of pain. Sensing your distress, he keeps his lips around your pulsing clit, distracting you with kisses and low blows of air.

Finally, you can feel yourself loosening. Your feet brace against your bed and you use the leverage to maneuver him deeper. You feel, you feel so…

Dabi, realizing that your cunt is quivering around his intruding digits, shifts closer, his piercings rubbing against your thighs. He’s sloppy now, less controlled. His tongue is circling your clit with furious laps and he lets a canine trace the bud. His fingers are still spreading and he’s found that spongy spot now. He taps against it, teasing you, making you clench and gasp around him.

Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, when it seems like all the sensations are too, too, much; it snaps. The coiling in your core pulls free and you’re moaning, so loudly you’re worried your neighbors will hear. His name is falling from your lips at a rapid rate and you can feel his smirk as he lifts his fingers from your cunt.

Dabi leans away and you shake at the loss of him. He was so warm, so hot against your damp skin and you miss it. He watches you, tucking his fingers into his mouth, lapping the final bits of your release from him.

“Take off your clothes,” he demands when he’s finished, his hands already dropping to his tented boxers, slipping the elastic down his trim waist.

You shift to obey, your hands yanking your shirt, bra and soaked panties off of you. You splay under him, indolently admiring the sight that is revealed to you. Oh, you think, unable to contain your small gasp, he is big.

His cock is long, thick, and curved, and it’s dripping with pre-cum. There’s a crossed set of piercings at the tip of his length and you watch, mesmerized, as a shimmering strand of his arousal catches on the shiny silver, leeching down the smooth length of him. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and that thought makes you shiver with anticipation, and a small sliver of worry.

Dabi grins wildly at your flushed face. “Like what you see?”

You nod, and he laughs, fingers snatching your legs, tugging you toward him. You spread for him, so eager and fucking turned on you can’t think straight. His hand lowers to his cock, and he strokes himself as he rechecks your silken cunt, gathering some of the gossamer strands of your arousal on his fingers as he ensures that you’re ready to take him.

“I’m not going to go slow,” he warns you, his eyes lifting from your folds.

Gulping and biting your lip, you nod, a shaking exhale escaping your lungs. He shifts himself nearer and begins to press. He’s right, you think, wincing at the sting of his intrusion. He’d stretched you out, licked you until you were leaking all over the bed, but it hurts.

It takes him a moment to bottom out. Once he does, he groans and gasps above you. “Fuck (Y/N), you’re so damn tight.”

You flop your head against your pillow and let out a long sigh. He’s holding still as you adjust, and, despite his warning, he’s being careful with you. It makes your chest squeeze. After a few more pained breaths, you can feel a low tingling radiating from your core. It’s like an itch. Experimentally, you cant your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist, cautious of the stapled skin across his lower back.

Dabi mutters a soft curse and pulls back, his length sliding out of your drenched pussy. When he glides back in, you feel that same tingling sensation. Distantly, you realize it must be those piercings of his, but you’re too overwhelmed by the sensation to process it fully.

“Hold on,” he groans, his hands bracing beside your head. You lace your arms around his bowed neck, and he starts to pounds into you. It’s a calculated motion, but- ah- he’s taking the extra second between his powerful pulls and thrusts to scrape his pelvis against your pulsating clit, stimulating you, ensuring that dim blaze pleasure within you keeps building. Whimpering, you arch your back, your ankles locking around him, encouraging him to keep going. You feel so good, so full, filled to the brim and practically begging him for more.

Sloppily, his mismatched lips find yours and he nibbles and kisses at you. The sheer heat of him is making you both slick with sweat. You don’t mind the salty, dampened feeling, if anything, it eases his motions.

You’re so wet now that he’s gliding easily into you; that piercing of his heating up, and the rapid fire thrusts he’s giving you create a smoldering inside you; like he’s catching you on fire from the inside out.

His hips stutter and he lifts one hand from the bed, his thumb easily finding your clit. He presses a tight circle across you and you see spots.

“Come on,” he groans, his voice hoarse, strained, “cum for me (Y/N). Fucking cum on my dick.”

That desperation in his tone is all that it takes.

Seconds later, you’re arching and shaking so much that he has to hold you still. He eases into you a final time, his frantic thrusts slowing, spacing out as he enjoys your rippling channel, and the fiery feeling of his own release almost hurtles you over the edge again. You curl against him, panting into his burnt ear, licking at the damaged skin.

Dabi leans heavily against you, one large hand pressing into your lower back, lifting you to him. Once he comes back to himself, he kisses at your shoulder, his warm breath making you shiver. He eases himself out of you and your legs clamp together, holding his cum inside you. It still feels so, so hot, and you’re not ready to let it drip out of you, not yet.

He untangles himself from you and adjusts some of his staples, wincing against the sting of his marred and clean flesh. Realizing what he’s doing, you slip from the bed and pad into your bathroom. You clean yourself off and grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, dampening a clean cloth with the solution.

“Here. It’s got some peroxide on it,” you tell him as you reenter the bedroom, tossing the rag his way. He catches it easily, dabbing it over himself, careful to not snag it on any of his loose skin. While he’s busy doing that, you snatch up his discarded white shirt and sling it over your head. He looks at you and scoffs.

“What’s wrong with yours?” he asks, tossing the cloth onto the floor.

“Yours looked better,” you inform him, returning to his side and leaning close. He rolls his eyes at you and you shift into his open lap, straddling his hips. Grinning, you kiss at his neck again, sneaking a few groans from him. Sighing as you give him a particularly hard nip, he bats you off of him, tumbling you down to the sheets.

“Give me a fucking minute,” he complains, shaking his head as you wrap around him, pulling him into your arms. Once he’s settled onto the bed you turn, pressing your back to his chest, relaxing into the familiar hold. He snorts, amused by your sudden change of mind.

Dabi lowers his forehead to the back of your head, a small smile rising along his lips. Your breathing evens out and he listens to the sound, trying to memorize each little detail of you.

Yeah, this is it, he tells himself as he drifts off. The rest is just extra. Oh, it’s nice, to be sure, but this, this right here is what he really wants.

Notes: Soft, soft Dabi. I like him like this ꒰ ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱ ˖°

Tags: @evesmores, @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx

#dabi #toya todoroki #i can put that #like omg #bnha smut #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #toya x reader #toya x y/n #toya x you #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: dabi #tw: heat play #answered asks #asks

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