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4dtk · 3 years

Note

NCT127 falling in love with a s/o with a time-consuming job like a lawyer or a doctor

NCT 127 with an s/o who has a time-consuming job

this is so cute, thanks for requesting! i made this in a format in the ways that the boys might show their care when you’re so busy with your job :) long as hell LOL enjoy!!

brief spoilers for shang-chi if you haven’t watched! i just watched it this week lol it was really good

→ TAEIL would direct conversations to a more neutral stance. it’s not that he wants to talk about himself, but sometimes if you don’t want to talk about your case or patients, he easily slips into conversation about theories or his favourite tv show or your rundown of what groceries to take for the next time you head to the supermarket. just really normal small things that take your mind off the stress, especially at night when you’re laying in bed and just before you’re drifting off to sleep, the two of you would engage in a topic that you both know fairly well about and then you’re usually the first to succumb to sleep. taeil purposely picks out topic he knows will excite you (and bc he knows you’re passionate about it, he reads up on it which allows a well-balanced convo). if you’re rambling on about a topic, then he’ll occasionally play the guitar while laying down, just simple melodies that bring a lot of peace to the room.

“wait- how d’you like this melody?” taeil softly says, changing it instantly when you commented on the previous, discordant one. your nod encourages him to carry on with the plucking of his fingers while you yourself continue with your rambles. “so i’m saying right, it seems totally unfair for him, and you’d think that, right? but all he ever does is whine and moan about his misfortunes, plus his character is so terribly written i kinda feel sorry for-“

the halted melody prompts a sharp turn of your turn to the guitar, which you almost collide with, “what?” taeil only shrugs. “nothin’. just like how passionate you get about the show, it’s cute.” your boyfriend smiles after, ignoring how his words affect you and how your cheeks heat up at it.

→ JOHNNY is one to take you out after your work. it’s not to a super intense, high-energy place like a club or anything, but small little dates that won’t take up much time. eating dinner at a restaurant, walk in the park, small cafe trip, strolling through supermarket to make fun of brand names. if you’re too tired that day, he always finds a way to make your time at home fun. from setting up a small karaoke session, to maybe making a pillow fort, to trying out new cuddling positions, he has everything on his mind. always showing you things to cheer you up if you happen, from memes to funny videos. is low-key down for you to review crime/doctor shows too, just to see how accurate they nail it. your time at home is consuming endless pieces of media until your tummies hurt or you’re sniffling at a movie together.

“hold on- lemme show you this video,” johnny’s hand is outstretched to you once he finds the video and your spoon full of food is left near your mouth. you proceed to watch the low quality video which your boyfriend claims to be the funniest video on earth.

W-HOR? WAH? the girl’s finger in the video traces over the word “who” as she struggles to pronounce it, with presumably her sister in the background prompting her. the repeated pronunciation of the word makes you snort, while the wheezing and the loud NO in the background causes you to fully erupt into laughter. johnny simply smiles at another successful attempt to make you smile.

→ YUTA always has a hand on you when you return home. he brings you into a hug, he guides you by your back, you have to eat with one hand bc he can’t keep his hand off of you. he hopes his little touches will ease your tiredness even by a bit and if you don’t want it, he’ll stop, but it’s yuta’s way of showing he cares without words. busy days with yuta usually involve just sitting in silence as you catch up on a show or a series, or even listening to a song in silence and enjoying each other’s company. he will talk if you want to, but if not that’s fine too, preferring more to stroke your hair in silence and think about how much he loves you. becomes very sappy when you’re in the quiet of your room and generally is very fond of the small pockets of time you get to spend before you two fall asleep. likes that you’re so resolute in your job but can be soft around him behind closed doors.

“you comfortable?” yuta calls out, barely above a whisper as he wraps an arm tighter around you. there’s comfortable ministrations that his does with his fingers, massaging the skin under your pajamas while you snuggle deeper into his chest. humming, you tighten your hold around his top.

“i am, yeah,” you can’t care much for the tv show on the screen now, with empty takeout boxes and tissues littering the coffee table. you feel the gentle kiss of yuta on your head before you’re drifting off to dreamland to a scratchy, 60s jazz song playing through the speakers.

→ TAEYONG would always welcome you back with a table set and food ready, always. he knows that food is the way to someone’s heart and you eating his food always makes him happy and offers to clean-up. lets you shower first if you come back together, puts you before himself very often that sometimes you have to tell him to tone it down because you don’t want him ending up more tired than he already is. following up on this, taeyong would show his love by cooking your lunches for you. when he has the time he makes the effort to put it in a nice bento or box for you to eat. he also does the general chores around the house (assuming the two of you live together) so the bed will be a little less messy when you come back, the floor’s cleaner, the countertops aren’t so cluttered with stuff. even if there’s nothing to clean up, he always these small little things before you come back, and even if you don’t notice it, he sees the way you’re able to navigate the space or when you’re more at ease and it makes him smile.

“do you want to shower first?” taeyong calls out softly, admiring the clean house he’s managed to do up before he went to meet you, “i’ll just hang around until you’re done.”

“you need to prioritise yourself too, yong,” you pout, rubbing a hand up and down his forehead as you toe off your shoes, “how ‘bout we shower together? you did clean the house up pretty nicely.” that earns a grin and a kiss from taeyong, who goes straight the prepare the bath. you chuckle, “he’s already forgotten what i’ve told him.”

→ DOYOUNG supports you silently and listens to your day when you return home and talk about your patient or a case you’re working on. he gives you his own input when he sees fit but other than that he wants you to explain the details. being a doctor and lawyer is crazy and hectic and just wants you to know that you’re appreciated in the workforce. the way he might show his love when caring for a busy s/o like you is when he brings you stuff that you might’ve forgotten like an umbrella or your lunch since you were rushing out of the house earlier. he doesn’t mind going the extra mile to you literally bc it’s a win-win! you get your food, he gets to see you, etc. if not he’ll send someone over to pass it to the receptionist, or he’ll make up for it by meeting you outside the office to apologise and then ask you what you wanna do so he can make it up to you.

“did you manage to get the bento i bought you?” doyoung asks worriedly through the phone, holding up a hand to the staff member who was beckoning him to his photoshoot. “you bought so much!” you exclaim, with a shoulder to your ear, phone perched in between, “thank you doyoung.”

“’m sorry i couldn’t come over to give you your lunch today, angel. i’ll see you after you’re done with work, okay?” you smile at that, shooting a quick reply before you delved into your food.

→ JAEHYUN would honestly serve you once you come back from a busy day tbh. where taeyong does the chores around the house, jaehyun helps by doing the chores on YOU and only you. giving you massages, bringing you dinner on a tray, other unsaid things… and maybe even carrying you from room to room lol he’s relentless and just goes you need to rest, lemme help. big gentleman even when you reject him, doing smaller things like constantly checking up on you, pulling the blanket higher onto your body, cuddling you closer to his body when it’s cold. on top of that jaehyun also one that would meet you at your workplace and take you out like johnny, but those dates are extremely chill. he lets you choose, and when you’re not sure, he takes you on a night picnic at the field or a rooftop, just dinner, but outside bc the view is really nice and he likes the way you look even after a long day of working.

“where should we park our mats?” your head moves from left to right, looking for a suitable spot while you tug on jaehyun’s hand. he hums at it, searching for a spot just like you are. the wind’s blowing gently when you settle near a tree, mat occasionally flying up which you counter with your heavy laptop bag.

“any idea where we can get desserts later?” you call out as a half-joke, not expecting jaehyun to pull up his phone to instantly search for a baskin robbins. “there’s one close-by, wait here for a minute and i’ll go get one for you-“ you laugh before pulling him back down, “don’t worry! we’ll go together, plus i don’t want to be left alone.” jaehyun softly smiles, nodding along as he takes out the food he packed.

→ JUNGWOO has similar intentions like johnny, except he would just wanna stay home. where johnny’s goal is to make you laugh, jungwoo just likes doing things together at home. playing board games, folding the clothes together, making dinner together. it’s not that he doesn’t want to do it, but when he’s given free time he sometimes just likes to laze at home and rest from schedules. he sometimes takes himself out of bed to help before you come back but he’s lazy lolol. loves it when you’re both equally tired and living off 5h of sleep. it’s not romanticising the lack of sleep but your schedules just don’t allow you to sleep equal amounts of hours of sleep. through that, you’re at least able to connect over sleepy talk and droopy smiles while you make the bed or assemble a lego piece or playing video games. if jungwoo’s energetic enough he doesn’t mind doing the crazier activities but he generally prefers those activities done in semi-silence while you exchange jokes and funny videos.

“noooo- no! you only need to move three times, you’re cheating-“ jungwoo pouts and moves back your playing avatar back three spaces on the board game. you purse your lips, not expecting him to see it since he was particularly invested in the movie playing on the screen. knowing it was a shitty film, you tried to talk him out of it, but he insisted. with eyes glued to the screen a few seconds earlier, you took your chance to move down one more space in order to get the benefit on the game board.

“you’ll get to buy a house soon, honey,” jungwoo grins cheekily, laughing even more when he’s able to move four steps, landing on the square that you wanted. now it was your turn to pout as he flips the card for property purchases, happily placing it next to his five other houses. “you’re so annoying!” you say as you fall back on the bean bag, but jungwoo doesn’t believe it when he sees a smile poking out from behind the hands shielding your face..

→ MARK sends you a looooot of texts. your convos with him are just him spamming questions or sending you memes. on every platform LMAO he has tweets sent, ig dm’s are blowing up from the weirdass nct memes that some of the fans make, he uses the official nct tiktok account to send you viral trending videos and he’s like we should try this!!!! and it’s a couple doing acrobatics or some shit. he’s crazy. anyway, he just likes to share things with you, from songs, to playlists, to youtube videos or interesting topics like crime psychology or movie theories etc. he knows that you’re hardly going to see it in your job but he sees the way you react across the room when he sends you stuff so he’s sure that you’ll like it after you get off work. sometimes likes to rickroll you, he knows it’s an old trend/troll thing but the thrill of seeing your frustrated replies always make him laugh out loud. when you’re back home, the both of you review whatever you send each other and then laugh together at them.

“hey, babe, check out this video,” mark says in a text, pasting a twitter link to a video. the video starts out interesting enough, mentioning something about a fun fact with stunning visuals has you wanting to learn more. when the guy in the video starts on his first word, the video immediately changes to rick astley with never gonna give you up. you mutter a small fuck under your breath, gaining a bit of attention from your colleagues during lunch break.

under the table, you flip him off in a picture, which he responds with a big smile of his that’s obviously teasing you for falling for it. you’re going to get it when i get back home!!!!! on a new high, you text the message and set your phone down, already excited for the evening where’d you be able to spend your time with him.

→ HAECHAN is a mix of everything kinda. he’d bring you out after work sometimes and other times likes to stay at home, mainly takes you out to eat after work, but that’s the extent of his after-work-escapades, he doesn’t want to tire you out too much. i think one prominent things he likes to do to is vlog to you, send you videos of what he’s doing on set or at home and just treats your convo like a bank for endless videos. y’know how there’s this video feature in telegram? he sends sooo many of those that you have the time of your life watching those on the ride back home. if you have time, you HAVE to facetime him during your lunch break and tell him how you’re doing and how’s your work coming along. do i have to kick someone’s ass for making you feel uncomfortable? is that patient being creepy again? and you have to explain that haechan, no, that patient is an elderly you cannot beat his ass. he’s like i don’t care, creepy dudes are not excused!!! and you can’t help but smile at that. always wants to be talking to you, close to you. if one day, you’re able to bring him to your job, this man follows you around like a lost puppy and just admires what you do, it’s endearing.

“ah, wait- you know how the sister, xia ling was sent to shut down the ten rings army? well… i just reviewed some of the articles and-“ the video cuts into the next one, haechan’s face zoomed in as he looks straight into the camera, “y’know, she might become a villain one day, i don’t know. maybe i should review some of the comics too?”

“anyway! come look at our set for the music video! it’s sexy, outfits are fire, sets are so good, the choreo this time isn’t too hard, either.” haechan asks the other members to wave as he passes them by, no doubt going his own make-up and hair after the others were already done, “okay, gotta go- love you bye!” you smile at that, texting a quick reply before you open up a video of your own, whispering through the speaker with a promise that you’d see him tonight.

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strawbearisamu · 3 years

Text

for a day like this

timeskip! hanamaki takahiro x gn! reader

summary: a coincidence on a train ride home leads to a confession and kissing in the rain.

note: requested by anon :) here, semi long one guys

cw: light swearing, semi makeout scene

wc: 1.8k

the sky shrouded by a dense fog, the blue of it completely concealed by a covering of wooly grey clouds. rain continuing to pour from the desolute atmosphere as you heard a disembodied female voice announce the departure of the train. you sighed, train starting to move as you look out your window only to see a strike of lightning, the muffled thundering of the storm only growing louder, reminding you of the impending consequences of today's events.

"miss..miss...excuse me miss?" shaken from your daze, you meet the face of a middle aged woman carrying an infant and a young child, "miss, would you mind switching seats with me? there just isn't enough space for my baby's breastfeeding equipment on the other side." she asked apologetically, "even though i specifically requested it," mumbling the last part under her breath.

you press your lips in to a small smile, grabbing your things as she thanked you in relief, your eyes light up at a familiar shade of strawberry brown, occupying the very seat next to the one you were supposed to replace, "makki?" you couldn’t help the grin as called out from behind.

he whipped his head towards you, eyes widened, mouth slightly agape as he eyed you a few times. as if making sure you weren't a fake, making sure the familiar resonance and tenor of your voice, the one he replays to himself some nights, making sure it wasn't just an auditory hallucination. "y/n."

eyes lighting up with excitement, you speed up towards him, engulfing his sitting form in a warm hug, arms wrapped around his neck as he breaths in your scent.

"missed me huh?" you don't miss the playful glint in his eyes as you finally let him go. "yeah," a beaming grin displacing the forlorn look on your face.

"what were you doing in the city?" you asked, squeezing past him into the window seat as he towered over to the side of the walkway to make room, you see his eyes glaze over for a split second before he says "just a reunion with the boys."

"how are they! you guys were always quite the gang."

"yeah," he paused, slight hesitation lingering in his voice, "they're good i mean, really good."

the thunder crackling, a shot of lightning briefly lighting the gloomy sky as the scenery beyond your cabin window blurred with the speeding train.

"you look awful," he says, words slipping out absentmindedly, his eyes widening in absolute horror as he spluttered an apology, rambling on, "not as in you're ugly but your clothes, your stuff, it just looks a little...disheveled."

you burst into laughter, the first time today, "my bag was stolen today, some guy on a motorbike snatched it and knocked me over, it was crazy! i tried chasing him too!" you recounted the story again, but for the first time today, in humour.

"pfft, sorry not the point, you tried chasing him?" his mouth curving into his signature lazy grin.

"what's your point strawberry head?" narrowing your eyes at him as he raised his hands, pleading innocence. "you okay though?"

"i'll survive, can't say the same for my job, had some really important work documents there, weren't supposed make copies, now they're gone."

"oh..."

"yeah, i'm so pissed but well the jury will be out after the weekend," you sighed, "but anyway should we be talking about how you look just as bad as me, makki?"

a boyish laugh resonates from him, it does something to you, the familiar scratchiness of it inscribed in your mind from long ago. the corner of his eyes crinkled, "shit i guess i do," he said. "mhmm," you hummed, nodded along in laughter.

"the reunion," he cleared his throat, "i mean first off, this is not even close to being as bad as your day," he precautioned.

"just get on with it," you rolled your eyes.

twisting and fiddling the ring on his pinky, "just saw everyone doing really well, what with oikawa and iwaizumi being on olympic teams, even mattsun has a steady career and plan you know? i think i'm second guessing myself? i thought i was living life, having fun, but sometimes everything feels like filler before death.”

you nodded along to him, listening intently. you had always known makki to be more of a free spirit so this was rare.

"we all have those days," you mumble under your breath.

you let a comfortable silence fall between you, rummaging your bag for the slightly squished convenience store sandwich and your earphones.

"it’s tough huh, trying to find our place now.” you said, handing him one side of your earphones.

“yeah, so much easier when you’re two dumbasses goofing around, playing with erasers and tic tac toe during class," he slotted in the bud, and you do the same, as the ambient music filled your ears.

“you and mattsun?" you probed.

“no you, you and me.” for second his playful facade falters. his eyes lingering on yours as you held each other captive, your stare burning through his enigmatic grey eyes, a raw emotional intensity that made it seem like time had slowed down, neither of you finding the courage to make a move in the moment of impenetrable tension.

"i guess the rain is quite fitting for a day like this." you finally dared to look away, taking in the storm weathering just beyond your window, "but somehow i feel a little better now makki. maybe it's your pink hair."

"you do love it," he said, "i feel a little better too," he whispered, and you barely catch it.

—

he took a deep breath in, releasing it in a heavy sigh. “miyagi air right? nothing like it.”

“can’t tell if you’re a free spirit or an old man now.” you stepped off the platform, bags in hand.

"let me walk you tonight. you don’t have an umbrella.”

“neither do you?” you pointed out, handing him one of your bags as the both of you walked towards the exit.

"don't worry, i've got a plan," he winked a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

—

the wind howls, your hair violently blowing into his face, "this was your genius plan makki? run a little faster will you!" you shout over the blaring pour of the rain, incredulous.

"easy for you to say, you're not the one hauling your heavy ass bag." one of your bags slung around his shoulder, arms stretched around the both of you as he holds his jacket up for cover. well, your cover, his exposed side completely drenched.

"we're close," you called out, awkwardly trudging across the puddle ridden road, his warmth emanating from beside you as your heart raced in your chest, though you couldn't decide if that was the rain or makki, more probably both you finally decided.

"we actually made it in one piece." you breathe a sigh of relief as you finally made it under the roof of your home, catching your breath a little as he twisted his rain soaked jacket.

"what are you waiting for? aren't you gonna open it?" he asked.

"okay what?"

"open the door?"

"i don't have the keys, they got stolen remember?" you said dubiously, now working the water out of your clothes as he gave you a baffled look.

"what? how are we gonna get in?

"well i assumed you had the keys?"

"how in the world would in have your keys?"

"in that confe-, letter i gave you? said you were here all the time you might as well have the key and gave you a key?"

"letter? what letter, y/n?"

"wait the letter...you didn't receive it?" the colour in your face drained, you took a sudden notice to his drenched figure.

"you're soaked dumbass." you say in an attempt to quickly move on, unzipping your bag to pull out a fresh t-shirt. he tries to stop you but you don't let him.

"shut up just let me do this makki." you pull on his forearm, tugging him down to meet your eye-level, his face inches from yours as you gently pat his face and neck dry.

"is this just an excuse to kiss me?" the same lazy smirk playing on his face again but his expression morphs into an unreadable one, eyes clouding, "the letter," he whispered looking down at you, his bangs skirting his lashes as you dabbed his cheek with a t-shirt.

"you wish you could kiss me," you joke.

"i do wish," he doesn't.

"was it a confession?" you didn't answer him, "can i kiss you makki?" the burning desire held off long enough as you somehow found the courage to ask.

makki broke into a smile, clumsily taking your hands in his, hurriedly dragging you back into the rain shower. hard rain hitting you, massaging your head, but even as you felt your senses become overwhelmed your attention was still singly engrossed by the man in front of you.

"what are you doing? i just patted you dry!" you reprimanded him, shouting over the pour of the rain, looking up at him, now 6'1, his soft gaze easily slipping past your faux stern one.

"it's more dramatic this way," he whispered, his hand gently caressing your face, thumb running circles on the now flushed apples of your cheek, his eyes becoming clearer to you as you finally begun to understand the liquid grey eyes that held you captive for so long. your heart speeding up again, butterflies fluttering aggressively in your stomach.

you tiptoed a little, eagerly reaching a hand into his now drenched strawberry pink hair that you were always so fixated on. he responded in kind, securing an arm around your waist, hoisting you up, you body colliding into his warmth, lower lip tingling a little as he traced it with his slightly calloused thumb. finally, he cups your jaw, taking your lips in his.

his lips warm, soft, impossibly plush against your own, the soft tickle of your hair on his cheek, your honeyed taste playing on his tongue, the shared warmth between you melding into one, your heartbeat synchronous, in perfect parallel with your harmonised movement. lips slightly parted, he bit your lower lip as you moaned a little.

"you think the neighbours can see us?" you pulled away, holding his cheeks in your hands, still in a slight daze.

"don't know, don't care."

"when did it become a drizzle?" you asked as he shrugged in response, desperate to capture your lips in his again.

and you guys stood there, in the light drizzle of the rain, soft rays of sunlight finally peaking through the glum clouds, making out for the audience of your entire neighbourhood, enjoying the petrichor of the rain. because yeah you were still locked out of your house, yeah you were probably getting fired and yeah he still didn't know shit about what he was gonna do, but everything seemed just a little bit better.

"i guess the rain was quite fitting for a day like this.”

sol's comments: can you tell i have no idea how to write a makeout scene? :")

m.list | each and every reblop is appreciated ☻ (+ free hugs)

#sweet by sol 💗#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hanamaki takahiro x reader #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki x reader #makki x reader #makki fluff #strawbeari requests: mailed #i made something! — sol ⋆·˚ ༘ *

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

Text

While You Sleep

Chapter 12

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: kidnapping, violence Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.

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“They couldn’t take that from me. They could never take you.”

“I never want to bring you pain or worry, okay? That shouldn’t be what… we do.”

Bucky’s words rang in your head as you sat in the lonesome cell, fighting for release any way you thought to try. But naturally, these attempts of wrangling yourself out of this had fallen flat and you weren’t trying anymore, that’s for certain. It only made the restraints dig into your wrists more. Not to mention you were beyond tired hitting a point of exhaustion that you didn't know was possible. You weren’t given a chance to relax as you sat on edge, waiting. Waiting for what - or really who - you didn’t quite know.

Sure, you had an Avenger for a soulmate (at least, that was what you considered Bucky, despite his humbleness) but you weren’t exactly up to date on their enemies. From your understanding, between the looks of the facility and your soulmate’s history, this was seeming like the work of Hydra. But they had been abolished...right? Apparently, you didn’t know anymore and doubts rang in your head as you feared you weren’t some random victim.

The first signs of daylight were just beginning to peek into your cell from a very tiny, thin window located near the top of the wall beside you.

Suddenly, a grumbling voice called from outside the cell. “She’s up.” You whipped your head towards the sound, just barely able to make out a figure illuminated by the early morning glow. There was probably some comment to make to whoever this was about how you hadn’t really slept but you couldn’t find your voice at the moment.

“Excellent.” A deeper, possibly older, voice called from down the hall. The man sounded way too excited for your liking. Your stomach threatened to empty its contents as heavy footsteps began making their way towards your cell.

When the steps stopped, you tried squinting through the minimal light but still couldn’t make out much of either man. If you had to guess, they looked like some doctors of sorts in long lab coats with notebooks in hand. One thing you definitely could tell was that they didn’t hesitate to stare back. You could feel their eyes taking you in over and over again making your heart pound in a weirdly familiar way.

“Does she speak?” The first man asked with a humorless scoff. You twisted in your wrist restraints wishing for some courage to get up and maybe put space between you.

Mustering a scrap of energy, you turned away from the men, hoping maybe your matted hair falling in your face could block them out forever. Because really, couldn’t this be forever? How would anyone know what happened? Your best bet was your coworker noticing your absence but then you thought of Bucky… He was away for now and by the time he caught wind who knows what would be of you. Tears began welling in your eyes at the thought of this being it for you -- whatever this was. You still weren’t sure what about you compelled these men to kidnap you in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” the same voice called out to you this time, pulling you from your troubling thoughts. Slowly, you turned back to him, taking in more of the doctor (fake, you guessed) persona now. “I asked if you speak.”

“No,” you grumbled. You didn’t know where this smart response came from but it made you feel a bit better like you were coming back to yourself. Really, though, you were in no position to start getting smart with anyone.

He let out a joyous laugh that sent far more fear through you. “The Soldier’s soulmate has an attitude, huh?”

Soldier? Bucky. Your heart panged at another thought of him. If that’s who they were referring to, this was to be about Bucky, you realized. These men knew him and whatever connection was festered there, it hadn't fizzled and you were caught in the crossfire. This actually couldn’t be them… But it looked like it.

Suddenly, the cell door opened with a loud screech, and the two men walked into the full glory of the morning sunrise. There, on their white coats, you saw an emblem of what appeared to be some tentacle-bearing creature. Your suspicions were regrettably confirmed.

They walked towards you, their eyes looking over you as if you were an experiment and they were memorizing you. With fear racing through you, you slowly began scooting backward trying to get as far away as you could. Your back eventually hit a wall and they just kept coming.

“Quite the squeamish one for being chained to The Soldier,” the second man observed, writing something down in his notebook. You could see now that he was much older, having that wiser look in his older years. You guessed he was a leader of sorts (at least, that was how you were going to file him in your head) and the other man, the one who was so kind to comment on your attitude, was some kind of assistant. You couldn’t take your eyes off the logo on their coats as it was practically screaming in your face. It all felt impossible and yet here you were, in the belly of the beast.

“W-What am I doing here?” You asked, your voice scratchy and nervous. Honestly, you were just glad you had the guts to make any noise. The assistant looked a bit humored at your question.

“Wow, she speaks full sentences,” he commented with an unsettling smirk.

The “leader” of the pair shot him a look before turning back to speak to you. “We have some observing to do, my dear,” he briefly explained.

The vagueness of it all was certainly not helping you - like anything realistically could in this moment. Still, you pursued it. “Observing?”

He hummed in response, turning back for a moment to write a few more lines in the notebook. Truthfully, you wanted to just kick it out of his fucking hand. Your eyes flicked quickly to the assistant but he wasn’t handing out any hints, just looking at you like you were something to be conquered. Oh, how you wanted to vomit on their shiny dress shoes.

“I will explain our intentions to ease your mind,” he snapped his notebook shut, “but first, you are to be moved.”

And just like, as if his words were keys, a hoard of men entered the cell and hoisted you to your feet. You tried kicking and screaming but they were strong. Maybe too strong. A strength you possibly could only recall in two other men you knew. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as they corralled you easily and forced you down the hall.

Everything was dark again. There was no light from the windows in the hall, just some musty glows of lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. You didn’t know where to look so you just stared downward, taking in the metal flooring that made you chilled.

After turning a few corners, you were brought to a much larger cell. This one at least had a chair, but you didn’t think it was exactly a nice grand gesture as your eyes landed on the restraints attached to it. The second thing you noticed was some sort of computer-like machine and rolling tables which lined the side. If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought this was just another medical office.

You yelped as one of the large men threw you on the chair, not giving you a second to even adjust before your hands were unbound only to be rebound by the chair’s restraints. You tugged a bit at them out of reflex, finding them as sturdy as expected. Your legs were free, though, maybe offering some tactic but exhaustion and fear overtook you.

Once they deemed you settled in, the army of men left, walking in line as commandingly as they had entered. The leader and his assistant stayed, waiting for you three to finally be alone once more. The door shut with a disturbing bang, really sealing your fate. The assistant stayed off to the side, leaning against a wall adjacent to the chair. The leader walked over to you, taking a seat on some rolling stool. Wow, these guys really thought they were serious professionals or something.

“I hope the trip here was okay,” the leader said with a chuckle. “Comfortable?” He motioned towards your lounging state. You blinked. “I see we are losing that attitude. What a shame, really. I’m sure your soulmate loves a firecracker.” Your body visibly tensed at the mention of Bucky. The elderly man didn’t miss it. In fact, it seemed like you unintentionally gave him the perfect segue into his whole evil spiel.

“Ah, yes, your soulmate.” The leader nodded as if he had just forgotten all about it. “Well, you see, the fact he even has one was news to us,” he shrugged and glanced at his assistant who nodded in confirmation. “We were sure when we wiped him we were wiping everything, so imagine our surprise when we find out he’s out and about dancing - with you on his arm.”

Your throat tightened as the memories of you and Bucky at the dance hall flooded your mind. It had been so busy that night you never would’ve thought you’d have to worry about someone… It sounded so ludicrous to you. You almost wish he hadn’t said it as the thoughts of that night were suddenly a bit darker. The carelessness you two had held seemed foolish now.

The leader watched you carefully. When you didn’t say anything in response, just blinked away more tears, he continued, “At first, we were quite angry we had missed something so big. We could’ve sworn we broke every attachment time after time but, as I said, you just swept The Soldier right off his feet. So, naturally, our sights were set on eliminating you.” He let out a ridiculous hearty laugh. “But then my assistant here,” the man in the corner waved in response, “realized that that would be a waste. There could be potential here for you. For you and your soulmate. Potential rooted in a team. Two unbreakable soldiers, both in bond and skills. What more could Hydra want?”

You gasped, your eyes growing wide, at the explanation. You didn’t know what to do now, your body had a mind of its own as it began shaking your head furiously as your wrists tugged and tugged at the restraints. This wasn’t realistic. They were absolutely mad. What kind of foolishness was this? They couldn’t possibly -

“Now, now,” the leader chuckled and turned to his notebook. He began checking referencing stuff from the monitor to the paper. “Don’t get too excited. We’re still brainstorming the whole concept and while it’s not near execution, it is on the promising side. There is, though, a vital component we seem to be lacking: your soulmate.”

Bucky… Your heart felt like it was going to rip itself out of your chest. Was he walking into a trap? Assuming he was walking in at all? Who was to say he had any idea of what was going on with you? How long could this all be for… You let out a surprising sob.

The leader responded to your outburst with an annoyed scoff. “There’s no reason to cry, dear. He’s sure to be here soon thanks to that little bond you have. If he hasn’t already recognized your distress by now, well, he’s not as smart as we thought.” He shrugged and began typing away on the monitor’s keyboard. “The whole attachment may all work out in our favor after all. Eventually, you two will be reunited, and won’t that be just lovely?”

Truthfully, you didn’t know anymore. You had no doubt in Bucky’s fighting abilities but these guys were… Well, they were pretty much responsible for him and everything you had seen him be put through. Who knows what they could do if (and when) he walked through those doors. You were lucky you hadn’t passed out yet from this anxiety alone.

“Besides, as I said, it’s all later down the line anyway,” the leader said. It had suddenly occurred to you at that moment that you were very glad he hadn’t given out his name. You couldn’t imagine humanizing these monsters. “For now, though, we are interested in learning more about you. I’ll be honest, on paper you are quite boring. Barely finished high school, left college for a coffee shop job… The pairing is almost comical. We just can’t figure out what you offer him and while, really, who are we to question Fate? But I still think in time we can figure out...well, whatever it is about you.”

You shook your head slowly, your eyes barely even able to focus on him anymore. Everything in you felt so heavy. “I’m not special.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong,” the leader chuckled. “He makes you special.”

As if on cue, a chorus of screams erupted from the hallway. You all jumped and turned towards the door. There was a little window on it but all you three could see were the bodies of the army of men from earlier flying about.

“Sooner than we expected,” the leader mumbled and began furiously typing something into the computer.

You didn’t know what to do besides sit there and wait for whatever was coming. Deep in you, you knew it was Bucky, you could feel it. You could feel him. But there was also a part of you that could also sense… rage. A very familiar, unsettling rage burned within him. It made you wonder if you actually wanted to see him in such a state. Some sick piece of you wished they had just knocked you out.

There wasn’t much more time to consider what you were going to do as the door to the cell was ripped off. Literally, fully, ripped away at the hinges to reveal a very determined, very angry, Bucky. He had an expression you didn’t recall seeing before, even in the nightmares. He looked ready to murder everything in its path but there was no calculated strategy to the madness. It seemed to be just him and his pure desire to eliminate anything and everything. His eyes were locked deadly on the older man, seemingly opting to ignore you. The assistant had begun shifting further away into the corner of the space.

“So nice of you to join us,” the leader said with an unsettling laugh. “I’ll admit, we weren’t expecting you so soon. I barely got a chance to get to know your little darling here.” He motioned towards you.

“I’m only going to ask this once,” Bucky finally spoke, his voice strained, “let her go.”

The leader smiled, “I’m not sure you’ll be asking for anything in a moment, anyways.” He motioned towards the computer. You and Bucky followed his motion with matching bewildered expressions. “In fact, I think you’ll be the one doing what I ask.”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “No-,”

But it was already set in motion. With a simple press of a button, the room filled with an electronic voice repeating a series of words in a foreign language. You looked around, unsure of where this could even be coming from and what the hell was being said, Your eyes eventually settled on Bucky who looked completely… lost. You gripped the sides of the chair, begging for this to just be over, as you watched that was so familiar. You could feel the memories rising from the depths of your brain. Hidden away, nearly suppressed... You gasped. The nightmares. That’s what all this was. They had pulled the trigger.

As much as you loved and trusted Bucky, you couldn’t say the same for the other guy. If in that state, could he even recognize you? Like, fully understand your role? You didn’t want to find out, truly. The panic that was settling in now was unlike anything you had experienced that day. Not even the idea of Hydra goons kidnapping you had sparked this much within.

You were preparing yourself for the worst as you watched Bucky try to shake it off. The leader wore a proud expression while the assistant kept his lonely distance, watching everything unfold. Suddenly, Bucky began mumbling to himself as his hands made hard fists. You thought the blow was finally coming and he was going to be gone. Just like that.

But then Bucky lunged. In one swift move, he pounced on the leader, taking everyone in the room off-guard, especially the target of the aggression. The older man hadn’t even had a chance to put his arms up before your soulmate was punching him relentlessly. Bucky’s yelling in the process was of pure, expressive anger, completely drowning out the screams of pain from the leader. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to look away so badly but you were also hypnotized. Bucky was so determined and unwavering in whatever goal was planted in his head. A bit thankful someone would go to such lengths for you, you had had enough of such danger in your sleep - you didn’t want it in your reality.

Bucky switched suddenly to strangling the man and that seemed to be the final straw for the leader’s life. The older man was soon just a lifeless, limp body on the floor. Bucky was still knelt above him, watching the soul drain from his victim. Your jaw went slack. You couldn’t turn this off.

The assistant didn’t help it as he made some foolish break for the exit but Bucky was just as fast. In a couple of determined strides, Bucky yanked the younger man back by the neck and threw him into the wall creating an artistic indentation. The assistant fell to the floor with a chilling thud.

There was no one left for his sights to land on except for you. Slowly, Bucky turned around. A shiver ran up your spine when your eyes finally met. You didn’t know who was standing before you. Whatever or whoever this was quickly began stomping their way towards you. You shut your eyes and flinched away, waiting for a painful, finishing blow from the Soldier.

But it never came.

Instead, all Bucky did was lean over to turn off the speakers and then began untying your wrists. Hesitantly, you turned to look at him but found he wouldn’t look at you, just was intensely concentrated on the restraints.

“B-Bucky?” Your voice was scratchy as you fumbled over his name.

“It’s me, doll,” Bucky responded with an exhausted sigh. He sounded normal to you, his demeanor not even looking close to what you remembered from the nightmares. He… He was okay. Bucky still wasn’t looking at you as he finished one restraint then went on the next.

“You’re not…”

Bucky shook his head. “Everything’s okay,” he mumbled. “We’re getting you out of here.”

“We?”

“The team is outside handling the other men.”

“You all came for me?”

Bucky finally looked up at you. For the first time, you could see just how tired he looked. A man nearly on the brink of defeat and enduring the fight. Your heart ached as all you wanted to do was crawl into his arms and take the longest naps of your lives.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bucky nodded. Gently, after the last restraint was undone, he picked you up bridal style. You threw your arms around his neck and buried your face in his shoulder, letting yourself relax and the tears flow.

“Thank you,” you mumbled but Bucky didn’t respond as he carried you out of the facility

***

You must’ve fallen asleep because a few hours later you awoke at some sort of compound. You were lying in what appeared to be a hospital bed but nothing about this place looked like a typical hospital. The technology was too advanced and everything just seemed too quiet. You looked around, letting your eyes adjust to the bright light of the sun shining in from the large room windows. In the corner, you were greeted by the sight of Bucky sleeping awkwardly in a chair.

You twisted in the bed, trying to get more comfortable under the blanket. The super-soldier hearing must’ve kicked in because one ruffle of the blanket made Bucky’s eyes shoot open. He looked at you, panic shifting to relief when he saw you were awake. Quickly, in a few steps, he was out of the chair and at your bedside.

“How are you feeling?” He asked softly. His hand went to touch your cheek but he must've thought better of it and instead lowered it. Your heart broke a bit wondering what self-deprecating thoughts were running through his brain after everything he had to do.

“I’m okay. Just a bit sore,” you shrugged but boy was it the hard truth. You hadn't been in a comfortable position in hours and endured being thrown around like some rag doll.

“Do you need any medicine?” Bucky asked, his voice suddenly having an air of panic to it. “I can call for help if you need it. Are you hungry? Do you need water? Or - Or just anything to drink? I can get you-,”

“Bucky…” You placed your hand on his to calm down. He flinched at your touch. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

He shook his head. “Nothing is fine, sweetheart. You were taken from me-,” Bucky cut himself off as his eyes began welling with tears. He looked wrecked as he stared down at you, taking in your current state. You felt the pain, wanting nothing more than to make all these torturing thoughts vanish. “You… You saw things that I just… I never wanted you to deal with-,”

“It’s over.” You took a deep breath. “I’m here, I’m safe, and you’re with me.”

Bucky closed his eyes as if preparing for something. “After what happened back there, do you even want me around anymore?”

Your jaw went slack at his question. Sure, there was absolutely no denying that the events of today scared you, most likely more than you realized. You had only seen Bucky that determined and violent in your nightmares so to see it just steps away was jarring. But you also knew nothing changed within him. He wasn’t a robot or anything. He wasn’t someone just taking commands. He had remorse. You certainly couldn’t say the same for who greeted you in your sleep. It may take you some time to adjust, sure, but you weren’t turning away. At least, you were going to try not to. Healing was just beginning.

“Of course, I do,” you said, raising your other hand to Bucky’s cheek. At first, he flinched but slowly he leaned into the touch, sighing like he was letting go of something. “Bucky, what happened back there… You had no choice. I don’t have to tell you that those were some very, very bad people. They had it coming and the fact you went to those lengths to save me is unbelievable.”

“I’d go to the ends of the Earth for my girl,” Bucky admitted.

You let out a weak giggle. “Thank you.” A pause. “May I ask how you figured out I was in trouble?”

Bucky smirked. “I had a nightmare.”

You raised your brows in surprise. “A nightmare?”

He nodded, “I started to feel weird after leaving for the mission like there was something I was missing. A little later on, I was taking a nap and you of course appeared but it was unlike any other dream I had ever had about you. It was… You were scared, deathly afraid of something, and then I saw what was going on. I practically watched it all play out from your apartment and on. It didn’t take too long to put everything together.”

You hmm’d. “Thank God for nightmares.”

Bucky chuckled and placed a light kiss on your forehead. “Thank God for nightmares,” he repeated in agreement.

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Danger First

Chapter 8

@pocketramblr This one is a bit shorter, but it came fast. :3

As much of a disaster as this was, it would have been about a thousand times worse without Tensei there. The Nomu guy had All Might pinned down, and as terrifying as that was, it was only made worse by how little he reacted to Shouta erasing his quirk whenever he caught sight of him.

No wonder Midoriya had been a wreck this morning. If nothing else, this confirmed his quirk was some kind of precognitive danger detection, and Shouta fully intended to get it registered as such the minute they got out of this mess so that the next time Midoriya showed up shaking in his red shoes, they could hit the problem with an army.

The hand-covered villain started reciting numbers. What was he doing? Counting something? Time?

Shouta blinked. The villain said a new number.

Oh, hell. The bastard was measuring the length of time he could keep his quirk active.

Distantly, because he was currently fighting about a dozen villains and really needed to keep his attention on not dying, Shouta registered an approaching young scream. Then something thunked into the fountain, and a line - a carbon fiber cable? - appeared between Shouta and the hand villain, giving them both pause. The pause lasted just long enough for two pairs of red shoes to plow into the side of the hand villain's head.

The momentum of impact took both Midoriya and the hand villain into the fountain. Then the fountain disintegrated. Shouta turned his quirk back on, and Midoriya log rolled away from the remains of the fountain.

"Get out of here!" ordered Shouta.

"Yes, sir!" said Midoriya, scrambling to his feet and managing to dodge several villains' attacks in a way that looked both natural and uncanny.

Shouta refocused on the hand villain, who could evidently disintegrate things by touching them. What a joy. A completely terrible match up for close range fighters like himself and Tensei. Or All Might, for that matter.

As Shouta strategized, part of his brain filed the question of how Midoriya had gotten there under 'for later.'

It would be best to restrain him while he was still disoriented-

Then the portal villain was there, between him and the disintegration villain.

Shouta found himself falling.

Izuku did not reach Ingenium in time to stop him from being pinned by the tree. Not that he'd known Nomu would throw a tree that way, but he'd been more than aware that something bad was going to happen.

From what Izuku had seen so far, All Might had been trying to keep his fight with Nomu away from others while still occasionally throwing an assist. But Nomu was strong. If Izuku didn't know better, he'd say the villain had multiple quirks-

-except maybe he didn't know better. Here was Izuku with two quirks, after all. Who was to say there couldn't be another quirk like One for All?

That could be bad.

Judging by the way All Might's direct attacks and punches barely moved Nomu but throws seemed to work normally, in addition to a regeneration quirk, Izuku would say he had something else that absorbed impact. And then possibly a strength quirk...?

All Might and Nomu rolled out of the trees. All Might was ever-so-slightly bloodied. Nomu looked unscathed.

It would be a gamble, All Might probably had already realized it, but...

Knowledge was power.

Izuku cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "All Might! I think he has more than one quirk!"

Black bled into the air.

"You certainly are a golden egg, aren't you?"

The mist villain and the hand villain were there. The hand villain, who bore a strong resemblance to a drowned rat, cackled.

"You've been trying to seal his movements, haven't you?" he said, voice scratchy. "But it's no good, he's just as powerful as you. Nomu- our specially made multi-quirked anti-All Might weapon. Kurogiri."

"Yes, Shigaraki Tomura."

More portals started to form, and Izuku started to get a better, horrible idea of what the villains' goal here was.

He needed Ingenium, and Kaminari.

He edged away, then turned to run. He couldn't directly help All Might right now, but if All Might could just hold out a little longer-

He grabbed Kaminari and Tsuyu's hands. "Help me get Ingenium free! I have a plan!"

"You have a plan, Midoriya?" asked Ingenium.

"Y-yeah," said Midoriya. "Just, we have to get this off of you for it to work-"

"Explain to me as you go."

"Well-"

"Multiple quirks," said En quietly.

"No! Toshinori killed him!"

"Never thought he was human enough to die-" started Banjo.

"Please tell me you aren't quoting pre-quirk literature at us right now," said En.

"Yoichi?" asked Hikage.

The ghosts shifted their attention to their first member.

"You don't seem very surprised," observed Nana.

"I guess it's like Banjo said," said Yoichi with a pained smile. "I just... never really felt like it was over... Even if I didn't think he'd attack Izuku of all people..."

"Well, he isn't. Clearly he's sent his goons after Toshinori. But why wouldn't you think he'd go after Ninth as soon as he realized Toshi passed on One for All?" asked Nana, putting her hands on her hips.

"Probably because it doesn't look like he has One for All?" suggested En.

"Oh," said Nana. "Yeah. Good point."

Izuku didn't miss the pain that flickered across Ingenium's face as he stood, or the way he was clearly favoring one side of his body, but they didn't have a lot of options right now. This was the best they could do. All Might was still avoiding the portals, and Nomu reaching through them, but he'd had to abandon his cape.

Worse, he was still obviously worried about the four of them, and had left himself open to injury to knock small-fry villains away from them multiple times as they levered the tree off Ingenium.

They didn't have time. They didn't have options.

(This would be a great time for reinforcements from the school to arrive.)

(They didn't.)

Izuku handed the spooled out end of the grappling hook to Ingenium, and the gun end to Kaminari. Tsuyu wrapped her tongue around Izuku and they jumped away, out of range.

Then Ingenium took off, compensating for less thrust output on his injured side. He was wobbly, and the hand villain easily dodged him, but the mist villain, with his focus on the portals, didn't. Ingenium slammed the points of the grappling hook into the man's metal collar, and ran.

Lightning struck, racing down the conductive cable from Kaminari to the mist villain. The man convulsed, the portals snapping shut.

One of them snapped shut on Nomu.

The villain's arm flopped onto the ground, and Izuku swallowed hard. That could have been All Might, if they hadn't timed that right.

Nomu roared, but its muscles bulged, and its arm, rapidly, disgustingly, grew back.

They'd gotten rid of the portal threat, but what now? Nomu and the hand villain were still very much threats, and if the hand villain got even one hand on All Might, it was game over.

Third cursed, surprising everyone.

"Ooh, are you finally acknowledging Izuku's superior skill in strategy and quirk analysis?" asked Yoichi, striking a pose.

"No," said Third, stepping away from the wall. "You can keep him to yourself. I just don't want Eighth to die." He walked over to the fiery form that was Yagi Toshinori's placeholder in the mindscape. "He's still connected."

"Well, yeah," said Yoichi. "What are you doing?"

"I'm giving him Fa Jin."

"What! He can do that?" demanded Banjo. "What about Blackwhip?"

"How the hell would Toshinori explain Blackwhip? Give it a rest already."

Third put his hands on Eighth's shoulders.

"Midoriya!"

"Monoma?" Izuku staggered as Monoma dropped both hands on his shoulders. "What?"

"The portal villain!" said Monoma, eyes wide. "He has multiple quirks!"

"It's true," said Kirishima, running up behind him. "After we were zapped to the ruins zone, Monoma was able to do all sorts of stuff."

"So, he's like Nomu?"

"That thing has multiple quirks, too?"

Normally, cling someone with a quirk that affected their appearance a thing was frowned upon, but in this case they were all going to let it slide.

"Yeah," said Izuku. A terrible idea began to rise up in his mind. But then he was distracted by Kaminari starting to wander towards the fight. "I think it has three," he said in a rush. "Regen, strength, and shock absorption if you can think of anything-" he cut off. "We need to get Kaminari."

"I've got him," said Kirishima quickly, "I can take a hit."

Izuku nodded.

"Midoriya, Ingenium!" said Tsuyu with a gasp.

Ingenium had collapsed, clutching one of his legs. Tears pricked at Izuku's eyes. There was too much going on!

A wave of ice crusted over Nomu.

Todoroki!

All Might took advantage of his opponent's temporary incapacitation and leaped back to where Izuku and the others were, grabbing Kirishima, Kaminari, and Ingenium on the way. "You kids need to get out of here!"

"But the shock absorbtion-!"

"Geez, plain kid, what are you, some kind of exposition dump?" asked the hand villain, scratching his neck. "A secret gimmick boss?" He laughed. "Yeah, Nomu has shock absorption. Like I said-" Nomu ripped itself free of the ice, "-he's a specially made living sandbag, a damage sponge just for-"

The hand villain cut off as a floating tree branch hit him over the back of the head, knocking free one of his costume hands. He staggered but didn't fall, swiping behind him with one hand. One of his own hands, that was. Hagakure yelped.

Not really thinking, Izuku picked up a rock and threw it at the hand villain, who caught and disintegrated it. "That's it, you hero brats!" He was blown back by a gust of wind.

"Go!" urged All Might. "Shock absorption quirks always have limits! So do regeneration quirks!"

So did All Might.

"If I could touch him," started Monoma. "If I could touch you-"

"Go," repeated All Might, more urgently.

"You heard him," said Tsuyu.

"Running away?" taunted the hand villain. Then, more quietly but still audible, "Wake up, Kurogiri."

All Might smiled grimly. "Not at all," he said. Then he charged the Nomu.

The silver lining to being shipped express to the location of one of the most traumatic events in his life was that Shouta had cell service. He could call UA.

Literally everything else sucked.

"Nezu," he croaked into the receiver. "Attack-"

"On the USJ, yes. I gathered reinforcements when the computer system stopped returning my pings and I couldn't contact you or Thirteen. What is your- oh, dear, how did you get all the way out there?"

"One of the villains has a warp quirk," said Shouta, he shifted and hissed. "Dropped me from over a story up." Probably more like two. Or even three. "Kinda want to know why he dropped me here."

"I'm sending a ambulance your way," said Nezu brusquely.

"There's also a guy who can turn stuff to dust with a touch - got me a couple times, but only got my skin - and really... muscly guy. Fighting All Might. Lots of cannon fodder. My kids-"

"You've done everything you can. Focus on not dying. You were always one if my favorite students. I'd hate to lose you."

"I'm a teacher."

"And? Ah! That's Iida Tenya on the road!"

"'S he okay?"

"Somewhat winded, but unharmed! Anything else we should know?"

"One of the villains was going toe-to-toe with All Might," said Shouta, blinking black spots out of his eyes. "The leader had a five-point disintegration quirk- Got me a couple times, just lost some skin though." He inhaled deeply, and groaned at the distinct sensation of a cracked rib. "Kids were scattered. Don't know where they all were. Saw Midoriya." He took another gasp of air. "I think Thirteen was injured."

He could hear sirens.

"I think," he said, weakly, "that's... no, there were a lot of canon fodder guys... Did I say that already? I think that's it."

"Thank you, Shouta. I'm going to leave you on speaker. If you can think of anything else, let us know. We need to debrief Iida, now."

"Hn," said Shouta.

By the time All Might punched Nomu through the roof of the USJ, the hand villain was shaking the mist villain vigorously, and Izuku and his classmates were halfway to the exit, carrying Ingenium and Kaminari.

Izuku was relieved, despite the danger still hanging in the air. It couldn't have been more than thirty minutes since this all started, but it was probably shorter, and Izuku knew All Might had all his time for today.

With Nomu gone, there was no way All Might would lose. Not even to someone with a destructive five-point quirk. Izuku could write a whole article on his reasoning, with sources cited.

All Might flipped a cube out of his pocket, and it unfolded into a pair of handcuffs designed specifically for restraining people with five-point quirks. It was obvious that the hand villain wasn't going to come quietly.

The mist villain's yellow eyes opened groggily. All Might moved-

-too slow.

The hand villain and the mist villain were gone.

The other villains who had come with them, however, were still very present. Which is why, Izuku would maintain until he died, he passed out when the rest of the teachers stepped through the door of the USJ and he finally felt safe.

Shouta watched as the two villain leaders stumbled out of a portal not far from him. He had the presence of mind to silence his phone, but couldn't focus enough to do much else. Hopefully Nezu still recorded all his calls, the paranoid rodent...

"Kurogiri," growled the hand villain. "Where the hell are we, and why are we here?"

The mist villain - Kurogiri? - shook his head slowly. "I am unsure, Shigaraki Tomura. I do not recognize the area." His voice was unsteady and itched at Shouta's brain. "I suspect... I suspect that the electric attack of that student has damaged my quirk control."

"Then get it undamaged, idiot. Goddamn sun... we're out in the open! I can hear sirens."

"I believe that those are ambulance sirens. Police sirens have a different pitch-"

"I don't care! Open a portal back home!"

"I am uncertain if that is-"

"Take us back to the bar. Now."

The villains left again, all without noticing Shouta. Maybe they were just desensitized to corpses lying in dark alleys or something. Not that he was a corpse yet. Even if his eyes were sliding closed.

What an illogical affair.

This was a stupid place to die.

"Alright," said En, in a tone that indicated he wanted attention. "Now that Ninth is no longer in danger of immediate death, I think we have some things to talk about. Firstly, Yoichi, I have a question for you."

Yoichi looked resigned. "Ask away, then."

"Before I ask it, I just want to preface that I've always had the utmost respect for you, and obviously there's nothing you can do to act on it from in here, but I can't help but notice that you seem... unusually attached to Ninth."

Yoichi gestured for En to contine.

"So, I have to ask... Yoichi, are you a pedophile?"

"No, I'm not rel- a pedophile?"

"Like I said, you seem unusu-"

"I'm his uncle!"

"What," said Nana.

"What," said Banjo, not quite at the same time.

"Wha- Not that I'm not pleased I won't have to figure out a way to double murder you, but what?" demanded En.

"I can't believe you thought I was a pedophile! What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with him?" said Banjo, phantom representations of Blackwhip peeling off his body. "What's wrong with you? How are you Ninth's uncle?"

"In the usual way!" shouted Yoichi, who seemed to have gotten stuck on high volume. "I'm actually kind of shocked none of you noticed right away!"

"How could we possibly have noticed?" demanded Banjo.

"I noticed," said Hikage.

"I- Wait, what, really?" Yoichi turned to Hikage.

"Yes," said Hikage, gravely. "All for One was in the family photo on the wall in Ninth's house. The one in the living room. I thought we were just avoiding the subject to be polite."

"Hikage," said Nana, "I cannot begin to tell you how much that wasn't what was going on. Is that why you two were sulking?" she asked Third.

"We aren't sulking. We're protesting the ridiculous decision to give One for All to the son of All for One. And I'm going right back to it."

"Bah!" said Yoichi, waving him off. "Go sulk in your corner! You're just jealous that Izuku is the coolest One for All holder!"

En's eyes had narrowed suspiciously. "Those two were sulking way before we were in Ninth, let alone his house. When did they find out?"

"Like, the day after Eighth met him. I told them because I wanted advice, but I got sulking instead. See if I tell them any more secrets, ever."

"That was a year ago," said Nana. "Are you- How in the world did you know, anyway?"

"He looks just like Hisashi did at that age," said Yoichi. "Also, he always said that if he had kids, he'd name them Tomura and Izuku, so..."

"Ninth looks like his mother, though," said Nana.

"Yeah, and All for One is a grade-A narcissist," said Yoichi.

"You're saying he picked, ugh, what was her name- Inko. He picked Inko because she looked like him?" asked Nana.

"Yeah, essentially."

"Wait, wait, back up," said Banjo. "Tomura? Did you say Tomura?"

"Yeah?"

"That's what the mist guy called the hand guy that one time. Actually- Didn't All for One go by Shigaraki for a while there, too?"

The only audible sound was a heartrate monitor's muffled beep. Presumably from Ninth being hooked up to one.

"That's messed up," said Yoichi, finally. There wasn't much else to say.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #danger first #danger first au #fic #fanfic

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pa-panda-heroes · 4 years

Text

blue hour.

demon!au!dabi x reader nsfw; find the sequel here

Inspired (sorta) by this post. This was initially a 400 followers celebration fic but took so long I got to 500, plus it’s Halloween!! 🎃🎃🎃

i listened to Mothica’s song Blue Hour while i wrote this and honestly fell in love with it. hence the name! please go give her a listen!

Minors, go away. This content is not for you.

Warnings: brief description of kidnapping, tiny mentions of religion (nonspecified tho!) and human sacrifice, injury + blood mention, foul language, brief cremation, Dabi being horny (hehe), Dabi absolutely 100% not using magic on you nope, thigh fucking, orgasm denial, biting, dirty talk, degradation?, spanking, overstimulation, dumbification if you squint?

Words: 14k+

Summary: Kidnapped and held as an offering to an ominous demon, you thought your death was near. Soon enough you find your captor dead and the demon you were offered to becomes your savior. Dabi clearly has plans for you, but what are they? Or was everything just a dream?

Your heartbeat thrummed within your ears, sweat sweltering and becoming a thick layer on your skin all over, making the fabric of your clothes cling to it ever-so-uncomfortably. It felt like you were being smothered from head to toe in fabric. The cooled blood that began just above your temple and trickled all the way down your face and neck had dried by now, acting as a crusty reminder of the reason behind the throbbing in your head. Trees swayed in the chilly winds that passed, making the cool air even colder - yet here you were, sweating like there was no tomorrow. You were bound by the wrists and ankles to a musty wooden pole in a forest you’d never seen before, the sky dark yet bright for the blue moon. The stars looked so free, so beautiful, so serene tonight. Yet you didn’t feel it.

Your breathing was quick, panicked, and hurried to the extent that you’d take in more oxygen by breathing less. Your poor, puffy lip was numb from having been chewed on so much, to the point where you couldn’t remember whether you were a chronic lip biter or not; but you sure were, now. That is, until he gagged you by tying an old handkerchief around your face. You struggled against your scratchy, dry restraints so much, they began to dig into your skin and bleed, sending a trail of blood down your arms and a jolt of burning, throbbing, stinging pain through your nerves.

You were far from alone.

The only other human body you knew of was the one who put you in the position you currently find yourself in after a night of dancing, booze, and sweat. The inebriation from the alcohol made you an easy target, you guessed. God damn it all.

The night began with your celebrating a friend’s birthday at a club, drinking, dancing, and making merry. You had regretted agreeing to go at first after having a long, agonizingly tiring day at work, which gave you the burning desire to wrap up after a bath and lay in bed until the next day when you’d have to get up again. But as the night progressed, you were glad you tagged along; after all, it was an unexpectedly nice release after a bad day.

Now you were regretting it again.

If only you hadn’t gone to the club.

If only hadn’t agreed even if begrudgingly to go.

If only you hadn’t left your apartment.

You made the mistake of trying to find a bathroom on your own and ended up in an alleyway. The last thing you saw was a filthy dumpster before it all went black, and upon waking you found yourself bound in this horrifying forest.

Around you was a circular dirt clearing bordered with a solid line and filled with various marks made upon it, ones that you’d never seen before. They looked to be of a lost, long-dead language - the language your masked captor was evidently speaking as he sat on his knees with his hands in the air before a makeshift altar of a sort. There was some distance between him and the altar, probably about two meters, that being the same distance he sat from you as you watched in horror.

He was going to kill you, but not before torturing you - or other things. For some hideous purposes that looked a lot to do with a demon or something. All because you were a virgin that just so happened to cross his path.

You tried making noises, tried screaming, but it made no difference. He wouldn’t stop his hideous chanting and no one could hear you anyway. The thick forest swallowed your every scream and the gag held back your every cry. More tears run down your cheeks at your predicament, your struggling against your binds only digging into and stinging your skin as piping hot blood continued to trail down your tender wrists and ankles. It felt like frostbite was setting in. Was it actually, or was it your nerves?

A pillar of black smoke began to rise from the ground in front of your masked captor, who then bowed with his forehead to the ground. Your own heart was beating in your ears so quickly you thought it would explode any minute. If only it would - you wouldn’t have to endure this any longer.

“What... the hell do you want?” you hear a voice boom, distorted in such a way that made it sound like it echoed a thousand times. “Filthy human.”

“Your favor, my lord. I offer you this virgin.”

You try screaming again, your throat beginning to feel scratchy and dry. It almost felt like it was bleeding. Could it be bleeding? Your mind was almost a haze, now.

You can see a form emerge from the ground where the black smoke stands, and you’re stunned and scared into total silence as you see the silhouette of two large wings and a pointed tail. Other than that, the silhouette appears mostly human. But it’s not.

“My favor, eh?” you hear the voice again. The silhouette swings his arm and with it vanishes the smoke, and the reality that this... thing isn’t human finally settles in your heart. His hair is black and spiky, there are pieces of what look to be burnt flesh under his minty eyes and the lower half of his face, bound to the unblemished skin by silvery staples that seemed to spit steam. Three dotted piercings adorned his nose, and plenty more his ears. His wings reminded you of a bird’s with feathers and all, and they were a flat charcoal in colour, albeit they seemed a little worse for wear and severely burnt. The demon’s horns poked out from each side of his forehead and curled around like that of a ram’s. He wore a dark, simple cloak.

You almost wondered if he had goat hooves for feet.

He looks down on the human who summoned him, literally and figuratively, it seemed. His eyes narrow viciously at the man, before jolting to you - and you, honest to all that exists, feel what you can only think of as a bolt of lightning course through every nerve - no, cell - of your body before it feels like your heart stops beating. You can feel the blood coursing in your veins, and it’s ice-cold, all of this forcing you to tense every muscle you’re able. He looks away and you’re instantly back to normal, slouching in your restraints.

“Is this asshole bothering you, little one?” the voice of what’s clearly a demon rings.

“I-I beg your pardon, m’lord Dabi?”

“Shut your trap, moron.” Clusters of the brightest, bluest flames you’d ever seen erupt above each of the demon’s eyes and he leans downward to grab the man by his neck, before easily lifting him in the air as the human choked. “Y’know, back in the day, sacrifices in some cultures were an honor. It was seen as a gift, a way to serve ancient - nonexistent, mind you - gods. People vied to become a sacrificial lamb. I’m ancient, too, you know that.”

The human man stammers and stutters, trying to say something coherent but failing out of fear.

Dabi lets the man rest his feet on the ground as he jerks your captor to look at you, and you want to just shrink into yourself. “What the fuck is that, huh? Do you see the fear in her eyes? The bruises covering her body? The blood seeping down her arms as she fights against that rope? Does that look like a willing sacrifice to you? Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t think she is willing at all.”

You blink. What? How? Why?

“You piss me off.”

Dabi throws the masked man to the ground away from him, then raising his palm into the air and summoning flames to filter out of the ground. They swallow him hole, and whilst he’s screaming in agony and burning alive, the demon turns on his heel and saunters your way. “Well, this is quite a mess, eh, dear?” His eyebrows are pointed upward, almost as if the gentle tone behind his words is sincere, yet almost as if there is deviance behind them.

You can’t help but gulp at the look in his eyes. Smile and arch his brows as he might, he was still clearly a demon unfitting of your trust. Right? He was going to hurt you. Surely.

His hands reach up for your face and you shut your eyes tight and turn away.

Much to your surprise, fingers work away at the handkerchief splitting open your poor, stretched, and saliva-coated lips, and you nearly gasp at the relief of pressure on them, the ache in your cheeks quite apparent and downright agonizing. Not only that, but the corners of your mouth were rubbed raw, and you weren’t sure if there was saliva mixing with more saliva, or blood mixing with saliva at the site. Dabi drags a finger from the corner of your mouth up to your cheek to wipe away the tears staining your skin, and you have no strength to fight the shiver that runs up your spine as your eyes fall half-lidded.

“Fuck me, you’re lookin’ a bit worse for wear, little one,” you hear him coo. “Easy, babe. You’re alright. That ugly, scary man’s all gone.” He seems to chuckle at the irony, before a toothy smirk splits his lips. His teeth are sharp, certainly enough to puncture skin without much effort, and you shiver again.

You’re quickly relieved of your bounds, but with the little strength you have left, you’re not able to stand on your own and collapse into his chest, spent and sore. He’s warm. It’s... nice. Fuzzy. Cloudy. Soft. Where are you, again? What’s going on? Why is everything spinning?

Everything fades to black.

:·•·:

You groan and turn over in your bed, pulling the fluffy covers up closer to your head as your body ached. You were warm and settled in, nothing could make you leave the comforts of your bed, yet you knew you needed to. To explain the achy joints, you tried reminiscing the night before. You remembered that night. Parts of it, anyway. When you tried to remember the feeling of being bound or the blood trickling down your wrists, nothing came up. When you tried remembering the chanting of your captor - nothing. It seemed that any parts which could be deemed... unsavory were gone from your memory. You brought your wrists up and felt around them and-

Also gone were any wounds.

It was odd. You could remember it all happening, but at the same time, you couldn’t. Must’ve been some whacked out dream induced by the alcohol.

You had no want to, but you sat up in bed and reached over to your nightstand to switch he clock around so you could see it. It read about half an hour after midday, and you sighed. How long were you asleep? You picked up your phone from the nightstand and switched it on, your heart leaping into your throat at the amount of notifications. Texts, emails, calls, there were dozens upon dozens of them.

“How long was I asleep?!” you shriek.

“Enough to nearly get evicted.”

Your head jolts up so quickly you hear your neck crack, and you see the demon leaning against the wall in front of your bed. You can’t help but gasp and scoot away, your back banging against the headboard of your bed. It wasn’t a dream.

He waves his hand lazily. “But don’t worry, I got it covered. Congrats, you have free rent for life, now.” His wings, horns, and tail are all gone, and he almost looks human, save for the staples and scars. You guess he can’t change his appearance much. Perhaps he doesn’t want to.

The teeth showing off from his smirk look just as sharp as before, however.

Your eyes are drawn to the huggies piercing the cartilage of his ears. They’re as shiny and plentiful as you remember. Your heart rate spikes, and you begin to breathe heavily.

“That soreness is probably from you bein’ out so long, sweets,” he comments, arms crossed in front of his chest, his right ankle also crossed over his left. His voice is smooth and a clear attempt at comforting you - yet there’s something behind it.

“Th-thank you. For saving me, and... the rent... I guess.” You hoped he would leave if you thanked him. Why else would he stick around?

He only shrugs, though. “Sorry, little one, but you’re not special. That sacrifice wasn’t done right in the first place.”

‘Ouch!’

Ah, you remembered that, now. But you couldn’t remember his name.

“What’s your name?” you ask hesitantly. He’s obviously not going to kill you by now. Why would he stick around?

“Dabi.”

“That’s it?” You tilt your head. You were surprised at how... nonchalant you were beginning to feel about this. The longer he stood there, the more it felt normal.

“That’s it, dollface.”

:·•·:

He ended up not having goat hooves for feet.

You knew there was a catch to being saved by that demonic bastard.

Aside from the fact that he wouldn’t leave you alone, keeping a demon cooped up in your apartment wasn’t easy. It especially wasn’t easy when said demon was constantly on your heels, pressed right up against your back. Personal space was not in his vocabulary. Dabi was constantly up to something, and he loved to harass or scare your neighbors with his devilish form; it was just too easy. “What else have I got to do while you’re gone all day?” he’d say. “Gotta entertain myself, somehow, doll.”

Apparently, it had been a long time since someone had summoned him at all, let alone with an offering of some kind. He hadn’t seen the mortal realm in hundreds of years, and because you were offered to him, he decided to stick around you. You only agreed to it as long as he never left your apartment.

Well, technically. He wasn’t actually giving you a choice, he was going to stick around anyway. Dabi so loved giving innocent mortals the impression that they were in control when they never truly were. The demon practically got off on the idea of giving a helpless little thing like you a false sense of security.

Having him essentially stuck to your hip, you couldn’t let him cause any trouble with the human world, be it harmless pranks or downright murder; hence why you left a line of salt in front of every opening to your place one day, to keep him home. He was a curious demon, a sketchy one.

And a bit of a horny one, at that.

If the groping or peeking in on your showers wasn’t enough of a clue, the fact that he did everything else in his power to seduce you certainly was.

Demons don’t sleep. They’re immortal, they don’t need to. Yet, as you lay snuggled up in your bed at night, he always snuck in with you to poke and prod at you, the exchange usually ending with you kicking him out of bed - sometimes literally. Other times, he’d randomly lean into your ear and say the filthiest things you’d ever heard - and then some, obviously - to get a rise out of you, giving him the opportunity to tease you about unconsciously clenching your thighs, whether it was for friction or out of denial.

You were starting to think he was a damn incubus.

But no, he denied that. He looked almost insulted when you made the insinuation before explaining that incubi and succubi are one and the same, changing back and forth between male and female. First as a succubus, the demon collects... “seed,” and then transforms into an incubus to “plant” it. He could change his physical appearance if he so wished, but he never had much want or need to, save for hiding away or using his devilish form; nor could he procreate, he was so proud to tell you.

It seemed the fact that you were a virgin only spurred him on to seduce you. With Dabi being the vile and damned being that he is, you thought he wouldn’t give a damn (ha) if you consented or not at first. The thought was honestly horrifying. Yet not once had he forced you or went too far. It was “poor taste,” he once said, there being no fun in it. You wondered if his rule of consenting sacrifices played a part in his discipline.

And of course, Dabi would go on about how badly he, a demon, an unsavory being to say the least, wanted to be the one to take your virginity and “defile” you, “the pure, innocent treat that you are.”

Defile? Really?

And treat?

‘Pick better wording next time you sex-starved, pointy-tail-having, staple-wearing, horned son of a bitch,’ you thought sarcastically, shoving dishes into their proper places after having dried them. He’d left you alone for most of the day, talking to you and treating you like he was a normal human being. ‘Then, maybe I’d consider letting you get your dick wet.’

Would you, though?

Nah...

Right.

One of the plates was a little wet still, and managed to slip out of your hand and shatter on the counter in front of you. You yelped when a shard cut into your palm after you’d instinctively reached to catch the plate, failing miserably. “Dammit,” you mutter, holding your left hand up to inspect the cut. From the looks of it, no stitches were needed, but it still stung like hell.

You should’ve known better than to think he cooled his jets for the day, because in an instant he’s standing next to your left side and reaching for your wrist.

“It’s fine, just a tiny cut,” you mutter, quirking a brow as he seemingly glares at the wound. “I think I’ve got a first-aid kit somewhere... Have to keep it clean, at least.”

“Nah, don’t need it,” he mutters, before pulling your hand toward his mouth. His tongue slithers out from between his lips and drags along the cut in your palm, the wet appendage searing against your skin.

A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation, and yet another soars when you see the hungry, predatory look in his eyes, which are fixed on your wound. You can’t help the gulp that sounds from your tight throat, or the yelp that fights out of your lips when his whole mouth latches onto the fatty part of your thumb where the cut is. Your knees begin to feel weak and your eyes fall half-lidded.

Dabi sucks on the flesh there, licking the wound occasionally as well. His eyes then flicker to yours, and they burn into you like no other ever has. You feel the heat of a blush trail up your neck and to your cheeks and ears, your heart thrumming in your chest and lips slowly falling open just a tad as he licks away at the opening in your skin.

“Ah-“

The demon pulls away with a pop from one final suck of your flesh, whilst a trail of his saliva - do demons have saliva?! - hung between your hand and his mouth. “See? Take a look.” He pushes your hand towards your view, and amidst the clear wetness on your skin, you see no wound at all.

Your mind flips back to the wounds you should have had from that night.

“Back then... did you... y’know...”

“Naah. There’s spells and the like for bigger stuff like that,” he explains nonchalantly with a shrug. He almost seems proud of himself with his next line. “Tiny paper cuts like this can be taken care of with good ol’ fashioned demon spit. It’s nice, huh?”

You deadpan at him. “No, it’s totally gross.”

Dabi chuckles at you, waving a hand as if to wave you off. “Admit it. Your virgin ass enjoyed it.” His words are crass, but you know he’s only teasing and they’re not meant to insult.

Yet it still riles you up.

That heat crawls up your neck again, and you huff at him. “Shut up!” you gripe, then turning away from him to at least try to clean up the dish shards. There was nothing wrong with being a virgin! A lot of people wait for the right person, or they just aren’t ready. People have their reasons, and there’s no shame in it! Just like there’s no shame in being the opposite. As long as it’s healthy, that’s all that matters!

“Jerk! You seem to forget whose apartment you’re squatting in!” you grumble, scooting the pieces of the plate you broke together - ever so gently - with a washcloth from the sink. “I could kick you out, y’know.” You forgot for a short moment that he managed to achieve free rent for life for you, but you told yourself it wouldn’t matter anyway. It was still your apartment, after all.

“Really, now?” The demon scoffs, then leaning against the counter and crossing his arms - clearly at you. “How would you go about that, little mouse?” His tone is unconvinced and sultry, the look on his face painted with doubt.

You avoided eye contact with him and perused the kitchen for a plastic bag before marching back to the mess of plate shards and trying to sweep them off the counter and into the bag. “I’d exorcise you,” you mutter. Finding a priest in this area would prove difficult, but you could manage to find one willing to travel. You could do it if needed.

Dabi only laughs you off, though. The sound is smooth and velvety, yet you’re left to describe it as littered with smoke and ecstasy. “C’mon, doll! That wouldn’t work,” he says finally. “Besides, we both know you don’t wanna do that. You like havin’ my sorry ass around too much, eh?”

“Ha! You’re right about you being a sorry ass,” you sass with a huff before tossing the bag into the waste-bin.

Oddly enough, while you’d never tell Dabi this and end up stroking his already massive ego, you felt safer with him around. It was hard to pinpoint why. Nothing had happened for him to be called to protect you; however, you lived in a less than savory part of town, which wasn’t entirely unbearable, but shit still happens. And you’ve already been abducted once, leading to your acquaintance with this horny (I’m more ways than one) asshole. Maybe it was because you knew part of what he can do, all that aside. Push comes to shove, he’d protect you, right?

That was a nice thought to have, if a bit naive, you thought.

He was a demon, not a guardian angel of some sort. He had no obligations to you.

Yet here he was, still living with you over a month after that awful night.

Your thoughts are completely swept away when you’re pushed by the hips against the counter with your back to it, your hands instinctively bracing the edge on each side of your hips for support. The demon’s face is immediately in front of yours, his breath easily filling your nostrils with an ashen smell. You see those horns of his again and have to fight the urge to reach up and grab one, maybe even give it a tug. He’d probably cremate you for it.

Could he hear your thoughts? Previous instances somewhat insinuated that he could, but he never admitted to it - or denied it.

Dabi was right. You don’t want to get rid of him. Especially not when he’s looking at you like that. There is an intensity in those half-lidded, fiery eyes of his that has never before been directed at you by anyone, and it leaves you wishing you could read his thoughts. Are his eyes merely looking at your own, or are they bearing into your soul, calculating and appraising it?

What you can tell is that it’s full of impatience and want. Greed. Lust. And so much of it all.

You tilt your chin down a bit and look up at him with a gulp quietly. You can’t think of anything to say, and tension builds within your chest as you search; you feel as if that silence ought to be filled, yet here you are, at a loss for words as you stare at your own reflection in his glossy eyes. On the other hand, he seems totally content letting you lie in it, letting you squirm for him as he smirks.

And so you look away, bringing your hands to your chest and holding them there bashfully. The sleeves of your sweater are soft and warm and plush - just how Dabi would describe you right now.

This maneuver of yours not being what he wanted, Dabi scowls a bit and grabs your chin to essentially force you to look at him, his thumb ghosting over the softness of your lower lip. He tilts his head at you almost curiously, perhaps evaluating your reaction as it’s been so long since he has seen or felt the mortal world. Those eyes narrow at you, though not out of ire. Dabi’s thumb pokes at the crevice between your lips, and the rest of his fingers on your jaw tug downward.

Confused, you comply anyway and part your lips for him, only for his thumb to invade your mouth and press hard on your tongue, coaxing you to gag and instinctively grasp both hands on his wrist. You attempt to pull it away, to relieve the pressure in your mouth, but he doesn’t want that.

Hell, in reality, neither do you. You just don’t feel like gagging and clouding your vision with tears.

Aw, you poor dear.

With a contemplative hum he pulls his appendage out of your mouth and holds it not far from your mouth, as if planning another venture into your wet cavern. You can’t help but stare at the string of saliva still connecting your lips and his hand as it glistens in the low lighting of your kitchenette.

“Open back up for me,” he huskily demands, but it’s not cruel and dictating, so you comply, entranced as if under a spell. But you know you’re not. This time, it’s his forefinger and middle finger that roam between your teeth, and as if he had told you to do so telepathically, you close your lips around them. With an innocent, doll-eyed look, you suck his fingers and lick at them with your tongue, earning yourself hushed praises and a searing trail of touches up your ribcage and back down. You continue to lick away, occasionally wrapping your tongue around his digits or cradling them as you suck on them, coating them in your saliva as some of it trails out one of the corners of your mouth. They feel cold, as if there was a lack of circulation, and it only spurs you on to warm them with the toasty cavern of your mouth and soft plushness of your tongue.

You’re sure you’re less than apt at this, but the praise and touch you’re receiving helps you feel less... off.

Dabi leans in for your ear, his hot breath against your cartilage sending a chill down your spine before his wet tongue laps at it, and you jump in your skin at the burning, completely unknown sensation. It’s so hot it almost stings, but it’s not painful; tingly, maybe. In the process you lean away to your left a bit, at which he seems to pause. But then you lean back as if to tell him to go on, and you can nearly hear the simper he gives just before he latches onto your ear, licking and nibbling away as you tremble and whimper around his fingers. The heat at your core throbs in tandem with your racing heartbeat, creating a melody of your arousal that you hoped only you could witness.

But you knew better than to doubt the senses of a demon.

“You’re doin’ good, doll,” he breathes into your ear, aggravating the sound of blood flushing through your ears and the thump of your heartbeat. “Such a good girl for me...”

The digits in your mouth get a little adventurous and explore your wet cavern a bit, but they’re quick to push down on your tongue again and you gag around them. Tears start to pool within your eyelids and your whimper is stuck in your throat.

The demon then unceremoniously pulls his fingers from your mouth to reach down at the hem of your sweater and yank it up over the swell of your chest, leaving your torso and bra-covered breasts bare. Dabi seems to drink up the sight of you as if it were a sweet wine he hadn’t indulged in for centuries. Both his hands then trail ghostly fingers - really, they felt like spiders - up your belly and to your sternum. You shiver and a mewl fights out of your throat unexpectedly, your back arching unintentionally toward him as you clutch onto his forearms. Dabi lets out a hot breath, just thereafter his hands roughly squeeze your breasts through your bra as he grinds his pelvis against yours, the outline of his hardened cock clear as day against you. You don’t even try to fight back the moan it elicits as your head droops back at the stimulation.

Why bother, right?

The inhuman entity before you takes the opportunity to use your open mouth, his own latching into yours and tongue exploring your mouth in a battle for dominance you have absolutely no hope to win as he makes a mushy mess of you. You accidentally lacerate your tongue on the sharp point of one of Dabi’s teeth and flinch a bit, the sting on your tongue nearly coaxing you to pull away while the taste of iron floods your mouths. That tase you could certainly live without only encourages him, as Dabi growls and grips the base of your neck to hold your head in place as he quite metaphorically devours your tongue with his own, before his teeth latch onto your lower lip and you squeak in surprise as he pulls away.

“Aw, what’s’a matter, little mouse?” Dabi taunts, left palm dropping to rub against your clothed sex.

“Ah, Dabi-!” You jolt at the sudden stimulation on your clit and breathe in hard. Even if there are a couple layers keeping his bare hand from touching you, if feels damn good to have someone else touch you like this. Ripples of warmth flood through you and you feel your body temperature rocketing. Your own breath feels as though it’s on fire as it leaves your heavily salivated mouth and bloody lips in rabid succession, alongside your increasingly rapid heartbeat. Your grip on his firm arms tightens and you resist the urge to grind against him as he continues his ministrations. “Fuck...” Your lips throbbed, yet you weren’t sure if it was from the tiny wounds he created or your blood pressure spiking.

“Hm?” The demon hums, inquisitive and high in pitch - yet maybe condescending. “‘Fuck,’ huh?” His grip on the back of your neck relaxes only slightly before his tongue pokes out of his mouth and drags along your lower lip, lapping away at the blood pooling there and drawing a slight whine from you. “What about it? You sayin’ you want me to fuck you, doll? Tell me.”

Blood rushes to your face like there was a race and your eyes wander from his bashfully, instead choosing to look at the horns cutting through his spiky black hair. He’s right, you do, you have to admit it. But admitting it out loud was embarrassing! With a gulp you elect to simply nod, but his brows furrow and he’s clearly unimpressed considering the animalistic growl that claws out of his throat.

“Hey, I’ve been locked away from you humans for so long, y’know,” he breathes, his voice dark and low. “I’m a bit behind on gestures. You have to tell me.” This time, you can tell by the almost playful tone of his voice that he’s really lying and just trying to make you admit it aloud. Dabi’s palm leaves you before moving up to the waistband of your jeans while his other hand snakes up your neck and latches onto a fistful of your hair. “C’mon, say it. Where’s all that spunk from earlier? You’re all bark and no bite, little one.”

“Y-yes, Dabi. I... I want you to fuck me.” You finally meet his eyes again, and the hunger in them from before hasn’t faded at all; it’s only deepened. What else has changed was the hunger and arousal in your own eyes.

That smirk appears again and Dabi leans into your ear. “You want me to fuck you,” he parrots, “do you? You want my demon cock to take your virginity and fill you up? You want me to fuck you against this counter until your voice gives out? You’re a slut after all, little one. Beg like one, then.”

Your thighs clench together and you gulp. This was... not how you fantasized your first time to carry out. “Demon cock” was not something you’d ever thought you would hear someone say.

But who cares? Not you.

“Yes, please. Please!” You tug at his jacket in an attempt to coax him toward you, your knuckles turning white from your grip. “Please, fuck me with your demon cock...” Your this time voice is less loud and demanding, albeit it’s more desperate and pleading. “Please.” Your voice breaks this time.

Nor was it something you thought you would ever say.

A groan rumbles from Dabi’s chest. “Good little human. Keep it up, yeah?”

You squeak as he roughly yanks your sweater over your head before working to unbutton your jeans, his lips and teeth savoring your neck all the while. Your head cranes back again, a mute gasp leaving you at the sensation of his searing tongue on your recently sweat-slicked neck as his fingers work to remove your bra before they move onto yanking your panties down. At least, you thought he yanked them down, but a quick glance to the floor revealed he ripped them off, rendering them unusable.

“I liked those!” you whine, still panting.

“Tough luck. I didn’t.” It’s not like you need to wear panties around him anyway. He’d burn every pair you owned to mere ashes if it meant getting you to waltz around your apartment with no panties. They just got in the way.

“Daabi! Why would you-

“Oh god!”

You jump and thrust against Dabi’s hand when his fingers run through the slick of your soaked cunt, your breathing ragged, while he gathers the slick abundant there and edges toward your clit. His tactic coaxes ripples of pleasure that lull a low moan out of you.

“Ha,” he scoffs in your ear, “no gods have anything to do with it, babydoll.”

Dabi’s fingers finally work their way to your clit and circle around it a few times before rubbing in a steady rhythm around it. You moan at the combination of the bliss he gives you and the pet name, and your legs instinctively open wider for him as you mewl.

“I’m really not sure you are a virgin, doll,” he starts with a chuckle, “You’re fuckin’ soaked, you know that? Like a slut begging for my dick.”

“D-Dabi!” You flinch at the sinful words he’s spitting at you, embarrassed.

The demon’s digits leave your clit and trail back through your folds, and the wet, lewd sounds that result almost surprise you more than the fact that you want to fuck a demon. You buck your hips in hopes of encouraging his fingers back to your clit, albeit his other hand distracts you with a flick to your nipple, before it rubs circles over the sensitive nub as the rest of his hand palms at your tit.

“Ah, feels so good,” you find yourself muttering.

In response his ear seems to twitch. “Speak up.” His lips are sucking and nipping at your neck, either ignoring or enjoying the layer of sweat built up on your skin as the heat coming from his body begins to overwhelm you. Not that you mind either way. He’s definitely leaving a mark here and there as he works around your neck. Not that you mind either way.

“Your fingers... ah, feel so good!” Your head cranes backward, your hands dropping to the counter against your ass for support as your legs begin to feel weak. The shockwaves of pleasure his hands send through your nerves leaves you feeling weak and mushy.

“Good. Now hold still.”

You give a confused look, eyebrows pointed upward before you feel the tip of his digit poke at your weeping hole, eliciting a loud gasp from you when his finger plunges into your pussy with no reserve. You hiss at the sudden intrusion, you walls stretching pleasurably yet painfully as he slowly moves his finger around, letting you adjust. His other hand merely plays with your breast.

Biting your lip, you lean forward and plant your sweaty, flushed forehead on his shoulder. “Hey, it kinda hurts,” you whine.

“Just relax, doll.” Dabi’s voice isn’t as crass as it was before, nor is it entirely soothing. You figure he just doesn’t have it in him to coddle you, being a demon and all that.

You whimper as Dabi ever so slowly thrusts his finger in and out, the mixture of pleasure and pain not at all what you’d expected. When his finger hits a spongy spot, you jolt and moan for him, and he takes the opportunity to take over your mouth again in a wet, hurried kiss with a groan. Dabi swallows any and all sounds that you make, and in the process you feel the hand on your tit move downward to your hip before it swings around and wraps under your thigh to lift your knee up to his hip level. The muscles of your legs tensing and the choked moan in your throat tell him the pain is starting to very slowly fade away. At the realization, he carefully dips another finger into you and you moan, higher in pitch, into his mouth before he pulls away to stare at the sight of his fingers fucking into you for only a short moment. Dabi is then quick to shove his tongue back into your salivating mouth.

The lithe digits within your wet walls pick up pace gradually, giving you time to adjust and not barreling into you. By now there is still a barely-there stretch, and all the pain has essentially faded as the assault on your nerves takes place and you near an orgasm. Your eyes lull shut and your head cranes back, your hips almost thrusting involuntarily on his fingers as his pace keeps increasing and pushing you over the edge.

“I’m- ah, I think I’m...”

Dabi hums as if requesting you repeat yourself or perhaps simply acknowledging your sputtering, but you’re too busy moaning louder and and thrusting into the palm of his hand, to do so, as the coil between your legs tightens. His fingers graze over that same spot as before and you cry out for him, for which his fingers increase their pace even more rapidly and slam into that spot over and over and over again as he groans at the lewd, wet squelching resulting.

“Shit! I’m gonna cum, Dabi, I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it. Cum for me, babydoll.” His voice is much more authoritative and huskier, and as per Dabi’s demand you cry out almost loud enough for your neighbors to hear as your orgasm slams into you like a tsunami of pleasure crashing into your nerves. Your soft, hot walls convulse around his fingers in your release as he uses them to fuck you through your first orgasm of the night, with your hips still thrusting toward him uncontrollably as you go through your high and begin to climb down, panting.

Your head feels light in the best way possible and your legs are weak, so you whine lowly as he pulls his fingers from your heat with a pleased sigh. The second your legs give out, he catches you by the ribs before grabbing your trembling hips and lifting you onto the counter, with you latching onto him and holding tight all the while, your forehead on his shoulder and arms around his neck while your legs wrap around his hips.

Dabi drags the tips of his fingers up and down your spine, sending a jolt of calming, electric waves up your spinal cord as he repeatedly kisses your hair and ear on the side accessible to him.

“Atta girl,” he mutters into your hair.

Do you... thank him? He’s giving you a compliment, after all, right? Do you nod? Do you hum? You have the energy to do all three, but what response does he expect of you?

“I didn’t... do anything,” you mutter quietly, chest rising and falling in quick succession.

“Technically. Doesn’t matter because you will, soon.” He leans into your ear like he’s so fond of doing, his lips grazing your earlobe. “We’re not done, doll.”

Your legs twitch around him unconsciously, eliciting a deep, amused chuckle from the demon.

You see pointed pearly whites bear at you before he lifts you off the countertop and plops you down in front of him. Dabi’s hand squeezes your ass cheek, said hand then spinning you around to put your back to his chest. Searing breath on the back of your ear makes it twitch. “You’re wet and all, doll, but I’m not sure you’re wet enough,” he taunts, his hands splaying out on your abdomen and gently roaming around, fingers spread wide as they adore your body.

“For what?” Dabi’s chest against your back prevents you from turning around and giving him a confused look.

“My cock. What else?” he jabs.

Your curt reply is totally cut off and forgotten when you feel a wet tongue singe the side of your neck toward the back, and you gasp shakily.

“What to do, what to do...?” you hear Dabi whisper into your now-pebbled skin, his hands ghosting down toward your thighs.

“Oh.”

Remaining silent yourself, you could feel the damn lightbulb light up in the bastard’s horned head, but you didn’t know what exactly would entail.

Before you can ask what the hell he was on about, his fingers drove between your glistening folds and prod around, as if measuring the lewd slick settling there. They quickly pull away after a quick hum from Dabi.

“Be a good little human and bend over, yeah?”

Without a word or thought against it you comply, bending over your countertop and leaning on your elbows a little. You gulp at the thought of your leaking cunt bearing for Dabi. You weren’t sure what he could see from this position, but you were a little embarrassed, nonetheless. With a gulp you shift your weight back and forth on your feet nervously.

Hands rub and palm at your ass cheeks as thumbs rub deeply into your flesh in a symphony of soothing touch. You sigh blissfully and spread your legs for the demon without realizing, but it’s over all too quickly when he instead moves your legs back together. You crane your neck to look at him. “Wha...?”

Wasn’t he going to fuck you from behind?

Suddenly the weeping tip of his cock slips between your thighs, gliding against your dripping cunt and through your folds. There’s no piercing despite his many others, though perhaps that was why he asked you to take him to a parlor not long ago.

Dabi’s cock manages to grace your clit and your body unwillingly jolts a little, still having been sensitive from your previous orgasm. A soft gasp leaves your swollen lips and you hear Dabi growl behind you while he pulls back from your ass end only to jut forward again. Legs beginning to tire out, you unconsciously spread them, only for his hands to push them together roughly.

“Don’t fuckin’ spread ‘em,” he hissed, hips holding still. The fingers on your thighs push deep with force sure to leave bruises while you hiss quietly at the stinging pain they bring to your nerves. But that sensation is quick to fade into something warm and euphoric yet electric and sensitive, causing your head to spin even though he’s not fucking your desperate pussy. He pistons his hips into your ass, and you mewl.

“That’s your last warning, fuck!” he grunts.

You nod vigorously, content with letting him fuck your thighs so long as he keeps grazing your puffy clit like this. His pace quickens and soon enough you hear loud skin slapping against skin, his hips jutting into your ass and balls pattering against the crevice between the soft flesh of your thighs. The quick pace and silkiness of his cock against your clit is euphoric, leaving you to wonder if it would be better than this if he were inside of you. Are you drooling? Your head droops lazily as you revel in pleasure.

The wetness and heat between your legs has increased several-fold, but it’s apparently not enough for Dabi. Your poor body rocks against the counter and your eyes are clenched shut, head fixated on the sensation of his cock grinding against your cunt and between your soft, drenched thighs. You weren’t sure if it was the position or your nerves going haywire, but your legs ached with a dreadful burn.

“D-Daaabi,” you whine pitifully, “my legs... aah, hurt...!”

A hand jumps to your navel and brings you back toward him to allow room for his fingers slithering to your cunt. Before they graze over your clit, they stop. “Cum for me, then,” you hear him command, voice deep and breathy and sending a chill up your spine. “Maybe when you’re done, I’ll take you to the bed and fuck you into the mattress. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya, doll?”

“Yes, b-but,” you suck in a breath when his hand envelops your tit, “‘maybe?’” You parrot the word desperately, your head going blank as you near orgasm.

“Mhm.” You can hear the smirk in it, and the sound of the hum rumbling in his chest is oddly euphoric for you to hear.

You hated having him behind you like this. All you wanted in the moment was to latch onto him and relish in his heat no matter how intense it would be for a mortal like you. You wanted to touch him, to be able to see him, and he was depriving you of it all - very likely on purpose.

Your moans and squeals get higher in pitch and Dabi evidently picks up on your cues, thrusting against your cunt faster and faster until your entire body tenses.

You cry out his name ever so quietly, yet before you can climax he pulls away and leaves you panting and weeping, a whine escaping your throat. “But you told me...!”

“Changed my mind.”

“You’re a jerk!” you half-gripe and half-whine, standing up to glare at him. “I was so... so close, you know! You better make it up to me!” You huff and puff from the intensity of almost cumming.

“You’re awful feisty when I’m not touching you,” he remarks cockily.

You’re going to regret saying what you said. At least, that’s what the look in his eyes tells you when he spins you around. It’s dark and already you shrink in front of him. The next thing you know, Dabi’s pushing you against the counter and mumbling something into you ear, that something being an incantation that sends a trickle of electricity though every nerve of your body. Suddenly you’re cumming hard as heavy waves of pleasure wrack your cunt clenching around nothing rapidly as whatever the demon used on you pushes you through your orgasm, your toes curling and lips shrieking, head falling back so fast it almost slammed into the cabinet if he hadn’t caught it. You don’t register that you had wrapped your arms around his waist until his hands grasp them as if holding you there.

“How’s that for makin’ it up to you, eh?”

With his voice pulling a moan out of you, your poor brain goes foggy and full and it spins within your skull as you pant away, your body feeling heavy. Dabi grabs hold of you and lifts you onto the countertop when it seems like your legs are going to give out. “Hey,” he mutters into your sweaty neck, “don’t tire out on me. I wanna fill that pussy up with my cum ‘til it’s dripping out.”

You feel heat rush from your heaving chest up your neck to your cheeks. “Stop... that! You pervert.”

Dabi chuckles at you. You weren’t prudish, you were inexperienced. “What? Stop what, hm?”

“Talking like... that.”

He only hums, though, and he’s not to comply with your request. “Ya know, if you weren’t a virgin, I’d take your ass, too. Or put you on your knees and shove my cock down your throat until you’re chokin’ on it. Fuck, you’d sound like an angel.” Dabi chuckles at his ironic comparison, seemingly proud of himself for it.

You shrink in front of him and shiver, the room feeling so cold. You glance at your bedroom door and he notices promptly.

“I’ll carry you, for a price.”

Your eyes flicker back to him and the simper he flashes you would’ve had you weak in the knees had you been standing.

“Like what, my soul?” It’s a slightly genuine, slightly snarky question.

“Your mouth.” Dabi waves a hand at your widened eyes. “Not tonight. Maybe next time. You won’t know up from down and I don’t feel like playing teacher more than I already am.”

The demon doesn’t wait for your snarky remark before he picks you up and lugs you to your bed. You let out a noise when he literally drops you onto the mattress, your form bouncing atop it before he pins you to the bed roughly, so quickly you get dizzy. He dips his hips between your legs and spreads them wide while his mouth delves into the crook of your sweat-coated neck to let him begin suckling and leaving stinging marks with sweet, little kisses peppered in between.

It seems he’s suddenly gone soft on you, but it won’t last, even if you don’t know it.

Your back arches against him, ready to finally feel his torrid body against yours so that you can relish in his warmth despite the fact that your body was soaked in sweat; you wanted so much more, you needed it. Your next moan is dealt without a care who can hear, and thereafter with you wrap your arms around his neck tightly. Dabi grabs your hips and squeezes the plump flesh before his hands roam down your thighs to your knees as he hikes your legs around his hips, with you far too eager not to comply.

“Dabi,” you breathe, and he hums with one of his hands still on your hip as the other supports his weight by your shoulder. “Kiss me. Please.” Your voice is desperate and needy, and you’re starting to think this is more than lust pushing you on.

Had he used another demonic spell on you?

When Dabi complies, his hips grind against you to allow his hardened cock to nudge the folds of your glistening pussy.

This time around, with his tongue prodding in your mouth at a slower, more passionate pace, you catch on and realize he has a tongue piercing. Your walls clench at the thought of what it would feel like licking stripes up and down your soaked cunt, wondering whether it would be cool to the touch or searing hot due to his body temperature.

Searing hot would be the answer, though you don’t know that as of now.

The demon grinds against you as he devours your mouth with his own, his weeping cock sliding through your your wet folds. On the other hand you’re careful not to cut your tongue on his teeth again, albeit he wouldn’t complain if you did; if anything he’d encourage it. Your hands splay on his hot back, and you wonder that if leaving them on his searing skin for too long will burn you. If it gave you the opportunity to roam your fingers over his muscles and caress the staples, goddamn would it be worth the burns. With a sigh into his mouth your hands move from his back to grab onto those horns you’d thought about, your grip gentle yet exploring as you try to focus on feeling the rough texture of them.

Dabi pulls away from you to pepper open-mouthed kisses among your jawline, growling all the while. “What’re you doing?” he brusquely asks between the wet gestures, and you croon. His voice was so rough and gravelly while the gestures were soft and... sweet. You almost dare to say it was heavenly.

“Just feelin’ ‘em, babydoll.”

You throw his pet name back at him purposefully, and the mockery elicits a dark chuckle from him. Ever so slowly, you were beginning to learn how to be more brazen. You were getting comfortable with him on this intimate level. You’d already been comfortable in some way with him living forcibly in your apartment for over a month, but not on this level, not like this.

The stapled hand on your leg disappears before it reappears in your hair and gives a pull - not a yank - to tilt your head back and further expose your neck. You expect him to ravage it with his mouth like earlier, but he stopped to admire his apparent handiwork. You can’t see the marks he’s left, albeit he’s apparently satisfied as he smirks.

“What’re you doing?” you mimic him playfully.

“Thinkin’ about how I want you, of course.” He said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

In response, you huff at him.

“Let’s see,” he begins, moving closer to you, his breath fanning the lower half of your face as his eyes bore into your soul, “chest up against the wall, or on your hands and knees... hell, maybe just your knees...” He moves down so that his breath reaches just under your jaw, his eyes still staring intensely up at you while his hand slithers to your tit, rolling the hardened bud under his finger and you mewl. “...could always put you in a mating press and fuck you like a bitch in heat... I might even let you get on top, if you’re a good girl. Decisions, decisions, eh?”

“What,” you huff, “you mean, with all that whoring and harassing you did, you never thought this through?” You mirror his smirk with your own quirked brow while you rub the horns on his head, thoroughly enjoying their soft yet rippled texture.

“Oho, that’s the problem, doll. I’ve thought about it too much.” Dabi’s teeth put on a show for you to see from his widening smirk. Next thing you know, his fingers are pinching and tugging your nipple roughly for the first time and you keen under him from the shock before his wet mouth matches onto your other tit, tongue lulling over the bud. You mewl and flick your head back, chest heaving in your panting as you feel him suction onto your plump skin and suck away with a sopping, hot mouth, his low sigh into your skin blissful.

Your hands drop to his shoulders as a result of the distraction his mouth brings. Demonic saliva coats your tit and glistens in what little silvery moonlight filters through your blinds, all while you feel the pull of your leg over his right shoulder and prodding at your weeping heat with the tip of his cock.

“Ya know what?” he murmurs into your skin, “I wanna see these lovely tits of yours bounce.” With his other hand he guides the tip in and gives a moan at how warm and slick the entrance of your cunt is around him. And tight as hell, too. Of all the summons he could’ve answered, he answered the one that, unbeknownst to Dabi, lead to you, just on a whim. And fuck, if it wasn’t worth it.

You whine and writhe underneath him, needy as can be, as your entrance clenches around the head of his cock.

“Use your words, babydoll.”

You groan at him. “Just please hurry up and fuck me!”

“Your wish is my command...” Dabi’s voice is full of tease and mockery, which makes you want to bite his tongue.

Without any warning he sheaths his cock all the way into you as a groan escapes his throat, and you jolt at the sensation of suddenly being so goddamned full, your lustful gasp resonating off the walls of your bedroom. That one hard pump of his hips sends a wave up pleasure through your nervous system and the stretch of your tight walls leaves you wanting more. He’s much longer and thicker than his fingers, and you can’t help your cunt clenching around him like it does. The subconscious movement has Dabi groaning and panting out as you clench on his cock, and he still can’t help but relish in how fucking worth the wait you are.

That stretch of your cunt is back again, sweet and sinful as before. His cock brushes against all the right places, filling you up perfectly and having you drool for more.

Dabi holds still at least, though you can tell it won’t be for long.

“So goddamned tight,” he spits through his teeth against your neck, fighting the demanding of every cell in his body to fuck you like a rabid animal. Dabi’s hot breath fans over your neck, his teeth clenching as a result of your tightness around him.

His hips slowly start pushing and pulling to gently thrust his throbbing cock in and out of you, slowly letting you adjust before he can pick a normal pace.

...is what you thought he would do.

But nay, he begins with slow and agonizingly yet blissfully hard thrusts into your wet core, his grunts being drowned out by your wails and mewls as he slams into your sopping cunt. The lewd sounds of wet skin slapping slowly against skin and hot squelching mixes into it all, creating a melody of sin only you and Dabi share, that only the two of you can hear.

You were definitely going to hell, by now. But hey, good dick seemed worth the eternal damnation. Right?

With one particularly hard thrust, Dabi bites into the crook between your neck and shoulder, unexpectedly not breaking the skin, eliciting a cry from your parched throat and your eyes shut tight. The teeth latching onto your skin feel less sharp and more human, as he’s morphed them not to tear into your flesh and draw blood. He’d never hear the end of it for getting blood on your sheets, he knew that. Besides, if he wasn’t careful it would kill you.

He doesn’t want that happening again. Ugh. That was a godsforsaken mess - literally.

With every pounce of his hips, your tits bounce on your chest like he set out to do and he was sure to take in the sight of it all very well, having waited over a month for it. The smarting pang you felt earlier when his fingers fucked you is completely gone by now, leaving you to writhe and thrust your own hips from the overwhelming fucking of your senses.

“Dabi, Dabi!” you sob, your thoughts blending together until nothing but the demon inside of you remains in your consciousness. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders, drawing a thick, black liquid in the deep crescents, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Words, babydoll,” he breathes out, emphasizing the first word with a thrust. “C’mon, you know better.” He groans above you.

A yelp and another, higher in pitch slap of skin resonates within the room amidst the wet, sloppy ones and his grunts, but it doesn’t register that he’s slapped the underside of the thigh perched on his shoulder until you feel the pulsating sting that scatters through your leg. The yelp was apparently yours.

“Faster!” Your voice is devoured by a whiny tone and squeals that fight out of you, but it’s drowned out by the rhythm of his hips against yours.

Another slap hits your senses, and you cry out, tears flooding your eyelids. All you need is a little push.

“So fuckin’ demanding... Where are your manners, little mouse?” His lips are on your ear again, almost as if threateningly. “I’d be a little more... ngh... polite if I were you.” The covers bunch and roll under your body when it’s slid back against them from the hardest thrust he’s graced you with yet, the process bringing a shriek out of you and shock as a result of his hitting that special spot after angling his hips just right and causing your poor head to spin. With Dabi then yanking you back to where you were with the hand on your thigh above the reddening cloud of flesh, you croon underneath him as he stops fucking your dripping wet heat altogether. You’re left to stare into his fiery blue eyes directly while hot breaths flood out of you in rapid succession. His nose almost touched yours, and the look in his eyes tells you he’s dead serious.

“Hate to break it to ya, but you’re at my mercy, doll. If I don’t want you to cum, you won’t.”

“Nonono, I’m sorry! Please! Please! I’m sorry!”

A cross between a hum and growl leaves his throat, and you shrink underneath him.

“‘Please,’ what?”

“Go faster, please!”

Dabi’s teeth are on your neck again when he picks up his thrusting into you, increasing in speed and fucking your sopping pussy like you had requested. With his hands on your hips, the demon mutters praises and moans into your neck and you sputter incoherent gibberish when you’re not gasping for air and squealing and bawling out from his almost inhuman, blissful pace. The leg wrapped around his waist clenches as hard as you’re physically able as he slams into you, and while your senses are being ravaged and brutalized, you hear faintly those wet squelching noises and the sounds of metal and wood creaking. You weren’t sure if the thrumming in your eardrums was your heartbeat or your headboard hitting the wall, but the thought of the latter rolled your eyes into the back of your head. Dabi angles his hips just right and smacks his cock into that oh-so-special spot within your soft cunt, and the jolt of pleasure and utter bliss that results brings you back to reality momentarily - yet still somehow throwing you out of your mind.

“Right there! Dabi! Oh, fuck!” You sob with a slur, your hands grasping and clawing at his back desperately. Incoherent garbling follows thereafter, and Dabi doesn’t even try to decipher it even if it is silk against his ears.

The fingers gripping onto your hips are so tightly embedded into your skin, Dabi’s sure they will leave round little bruises in their wake and he relishes in the idea, but the sting they bring you feels so damned good, you welcome it, too. The tension that builds within your cunt keeps building and building, your hot walls clenching around Dabi as you near carnal release. You’re close, so fucking close to the height of true bliss, your moans getting higher and higher in pitch as your back lifts off the mattress without you willing it. You feel that familiar tingle before-

It stops.

You sob at the utter emptiness and lack of release, your head spinning.

The ancient bastard denied you of your orgasm.

Chest heaving up and down in your panting, your wordless whine and protest at the emptiness you can feel is seemingly ignored by Dabi. The lack of warmth at your pulsating core is almost... cold. So cold.

“Wh-why...?” you whine.

The demon lets out a breathy groan. You can feel him dip his lips to your collarbone and smirk. “Just ‘cause.”

Quickly the demon sits back on his haunches and your arms droop off his shoulders. Dabi blinks at you with his hand holding your ankle to his shoulder, all the while staring you down with an intensity that has you feeling small, like an ant before an elephant. You’re so vulnerable and naked under his unwavering gaze, it’s nearly frightening. There’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen before. It’s soft but it’s predatory. He drinks in the sight of you leisurely.

You know damn good and well blood is rushing to your face, your hot breaths leaving you in weak puffs.

“Aren’t you precious?” you hear him remark with a toothy smirk. “Just for me. Right?”

You nod.

Demonically slitted eyes narrow at you darkly. “Say it, then,” he demands.

“Just...” you pant, “for you.”

Dabi’s hand pulls your ankle off him and puts your foot flat against the bedding next to his knee as he looks down at you. The moonlight striking the vibrant color of Dabi’s eyes is breathtaking, if your breath could be knocked out of your lungs further. It almost forced you to liken the sight with tinted ice, with icy waters off Iceland or perhaps glacier-dwelling seas of the Antarctic. And yet, you knew better.

The sight before Dabi was more than he’d expected, albeit just as sinful. Seeing you splashed out in bed, sweating and panting and dripping in your own essence just for him drove him wild. You were so adamant against fucking him, about retaining your innocence and saving it for the “right” person, in the beginning. And yet now, you let him do as he pleases and he didn’t doubt it would be the first time. He knew better.

“Get on your hands and knees, love.”

That was a first. “Love?” You like it more than the several others. It was smoky and gravelly and breathy all once.

Without your knowing your eyes soften and you grin the tiniest grin at the demon, knowing he won’t return the favor and be as gentle and sweet with you. He’s quick to quirk a brow at you, but you turn on your side to maneuver your body around and comply with Dabi’s command. Your breath has evened out by now, as you prop yourself on your elbows with your ass pointing out to Dabi, weeping cunt ready to be filled. It was embarrassing being on display like this again. You glance back at him with curious eyes, only to be met with silence and what felt like a dark presence. He’d gone cold on you.

You feel a hot hand on the nape of your neck and swear on whatever god you used to believe that your skin sizzled for a bit, while another lands on your left hip as his cock presses up against your folds and slithers through between your legs a couple times, gathering the slick of your essence - as if it needed to! - before he delves into your pussy once again. You croon in front of him, and the moan that comes out of Dabi has you clenching around his cock for the countless time. He mutters something untranslatable to you and pushes down on your nape, easing you face-first into the mattress. Your bedding was so soft and warm from your own body heat. Maybe it was leakage from the demon’s body temperature, you weren’t sure. Maybe it was a mix of both, intermingling like perfectly-cut pieces of a puzzle.

With a sharp moan, Dabi bottoms out in you, your mewls being swallowed by the bedding pressing against your cheek. You sigh into plush warmth, but the soft and gooeyness you feel is quickly torn away by a harsh snap of Dabi’s hips. Your gasp is cut through by a squeak from your throat, only urging him further as you already feel that coil tightening and readying to snap. You feel him shift a little against you, and you try to glance at him as much as you can before he begins thrusting into you again. That hard but slow pace makes its appearance for a short while, and hot damn is it heavenly. You moan and whine completely unabashedly. The walls of your apartment were thin and cheap, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

It was just an effect he had on you.

So what if your neighbors knew your were getting railed by a demonic being from ages past?

He certainly wanted them to know.

Dabi’s pace picks up again and you already feel the ripples of pleasure soaring through your body from your clenching cunt, your grip on the fabric underneath you tightening as you fight back the urge to bite into it. Even the lewd slaps of his hips against your ass are louder and quicker, and fuck aren’t they wetter. Dabi himself seems proud of this.

Your breathing quickens and your lungs almost burn like the hand on the back of your neck, your keening and sobbing getting higher in pitch and filled with rushed air. His thrusts only seem to get deeper and harder, if it were possible, and your eyes close shut tightly as your body trembles. Dabi adjusts his hips and continuously hits that oh-so-sweet spot that makes your head cloud over totally, his head falling back at the way your pussy hugs him tight.

“Dabi!” you sob. “Don’t stop, please!” Your wording is heavily slurred and slightly hushed from the impact of his fucking your nerves and your cheek being pushed into the bed, but you manage, nonetheless. You can’t fight back the drool that droops out the corner of your mouth.

The demon chuckles. Dabi could hear you say his name like that for a thousand years straight and it wouldn’t be enough. “S’pose you’ve been a good girl, babydoll. Go on, I’ll let you cum.”

The hand on your neck moves to your shoulder and soon enough, your chest and face are removed from the sheets, albeit you’re still on all fours as he fucks into you. Thereafter you feel the piping heat of his chest against your back, a crude reminder of the seven layers of arson Dabi’s capable. His hand holds you still while he continues to wrack your body with thrusts into your wet heat. You feel his fingers rub and circle your clit after a torrid hand snakes around your ribs and down your navel, and the pace of Dabi’s fingers is almost in beautiful tandem with his fucking as he hits that special spot over and over and over again. You can feel your essence flowing down the insides of your thighs like you thought wasn’t even possible, pussy dripping onto your bedding.

Ah, fuck.

With a lustful shriek, your spongy walls convulse around his cock as he fucks you through your orgasm, your vision going white as your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body rocks back and forth, legs twitching and torso shuddering. It takes almost everything Dabi has not to cum then and there, his hiss and loud growl being evidence of that. You just feel so good, why wouldn’t he want to cum now? But no, that would be a treat for you later.

Your clutch on the bedding underneath is as tight as you’re fully capable, and your knuckles turn white while you revel in your own personal bliss, courtesy of whatever the hell Dabi is. The intensity of it all has your head spinning and body pulsating. Poor body beginning to come down from the fierce high, you wondered if Dabi would stop and let you bliss out - but nay; he continues to fuck you like an animal and abuse your clit while you cry it all out. You were drenched in sweat, your cheeks flooded with tears you didn’t know were there until now.

“Too much, too much,” you squeak quietly, so quiet you’re not even sure he could hear you. But maybe it was incoherent. Maybe you were babbling and drooling like a fucked out hole at this point. Was it getting overwhelming? Yes. Did it feel ungodly good? Fuck yes.

“You’re so fuckin’... wet, though,” he pants, before slowing down slightly. “I think you’re playing innocent. You like this, ah, don’t you?” Dabi groans as you continue to flutter, sensitively, around him. “You want me to fuck you stupid, to fuck you until you can’t take it anymore, right?”

Dabi chuckles at your lack of response and continues to ram into your soaking heat with your cries and squeaks only urging him further. An attempt to glance at Dabi is mostly thwarted by the pace he’s taken on, or maybe it’s because everything’s spinning - or is it the tears flooding from your eyelids - you manage to meet his icy, slitted eyes once, which prompts him to poke kisses at your nape and behind your ear. You feel that familiar warmth in your entire pelvis, you cunt clenching down on his cock as the waves of pleasure intensify.

“Dabi, I- nnn, it’s too mu-much,” you whine. “Please.”

“Nah, you’re okay, babydoll,” he drawls cockily, voice gravelly and breathy enough to make you cum on command. “I think you’ve got a few more for me, don’t you? C’mon.” He makes a point to hit your g-spot harder than before after he’s done talking, and goddamn does it take the air out of your lungs. You choke on your own spit when you feel that piping hot hand patted against your asscheek repeatedly.

Your shriek and wet slopping fills the room as you cum yet again, albeit this time the pressure on your nerves feels different - smoother, warmer - and the tingle in your belly is intense as your scream feels like it claws at your throat until it bleeds. Your thighs are drenched in your juices, cunt twitching and clenching in the aftermath of your mind-splitting pleasure. You mumble and whimper as he finally slows down and gives you a sliver of mercy, both of his hands now holding you up by your hips when your torso slowly droops down like it was before. Dabi chuckles behind you quietly as he comes to a halt.

“You good, doll?”

He’s definitely not sincere.

Your eyes squeeze shut and you heave and pant, the fabric in your fingers wrinkling in their grasp.

“Oi, you can’t quit on me now,” he demands. “I haven’t cum yet and I gotta make you squirt again.”

Trying to get a whole, solid word out was a struggle as a result of your heavy breathing and the overstimulation. Your head was fuzzy and the room was spinning like a damn typhoon, and for a split moment you thought you’d fallen unconscious. What spills out is garbled nonsense.

The demon hums that inquisitive hum again, urging you to speak.

You lift your cheek off the bed slightly, as you’re able. “Will...”

You’re not sure why, but the thought of Dabi skipping off after taking your virginity so unceremoniously rang into your thoughts, giving you a sense of loneliness and anxiety. Why, though? Why now?

“Huh?” He leans in so close, his horn bobs off the side of your head when he arches over you to put an ear to your lips. “Try again, love. Go on.” He sounds quite intrigued, probably the most you’ve heard him.

“Will you... hah, leave... me?”

The grin against your neck is dark.

“Whaddya mean, little mouse?”

His voice was downright excited. You were worth the wait. How long had it been since he’d had a human so obedient, so innocent yet so easily corrupted? You were his, now - whether you liked it or not was irrelevant. But he knew you would. Dabi had grown on you far more than you’d ever admit, he knew that for a fact. You were clearly enjoying yourself now, anyway. And it didn’t take magic to do all of this, save for one here and there to coax you to enjoy yourself and to bring out subconscious feelings. Like right now. You felt these things, he just amplified them to an unbearable extent. Whoops. You poor thing.

“Don’t go.”

Eyes half-lidded and droopy, you turn your head to look back at the demon, only to be met with sharp teeth shown off in a naughty grin. You blink once and you could’ve sworn you saw an image of a black, smoky aura surrounding him.

“If you can handle me, dear.”

You nod against the bed slowly before trying to push your ass against him with what little stability you have. Even if his cock was still buried in you, without any movement you felt empty and... alone.

“I thought it was too much?” he quips, hand rubbing at your reddened ass cheek in a way you have to describe as soothing. It felt so silky and mellow. Yet you knew he was far from that. “Well? I thought you were bitchin’ out on me like the virgin you are.”

“In... insi... inside,” you sputter shyly, mental clarity not quite returning, albeit you manage enough to think of that at least. You want him to cum inside, to know what it feels like to be stuffed full of his cum, to feel his cock twitching inside after his release. “C-um.”

You never would’ve thought about that before you met him. Why would you feel this way?

“Aw, what is it?” The hum that results from his scarred throat is dark. “You want me to cum inside right now? I’m not sure you’ve earned that yet.” His voice is bastardly and maybe even a little teasing, and he sighs almost happily at your squirming. “Asking me to cum inside like that the first time you get fucked - such a whore. Have I fucked you stupid already, doll? Shame, I thought you’d hold out better than that.” Dabi clicked his tongue and shook his head, though you can’t see. “Broken so early. Guess there’s no point in me stickin’ around after all, huh?”

A noise sounds from the back of your throat in protest and nearly unbeknownst to you, drool slithers out the corner of your mouth. Dabi seems to ignore your noises as his hands adjust your hips, giving you enough friction to elicit a whine from your lips. You can’t register this at the moment, but Dabi was a victim to his own whims and could be a mix of soft and downright mean in the bedroom, and there’s no telling which will arise. Sometimes he’ll want skin against skin, tongue lashing against yours, fiery pleasure; sometimes he wants to insult you and lash his hand across your ass cheek, leaving bruises or drawing blood wherever he can.

“I was gonna make you convince me,” he breathes, slowly thrusting. “But considering you’re still conscious, I think that’s enough.” Dabi chuckles behind you. Well, you were only conscious as per his meddling. He was the one keeping your consciousness pulled to the surface, preventing you from letting go of reality and passing out. “You’re most welcome to cry and beg, though, babydoll.”

Hell, that list was half-checked off. Tears stained your cheeks and blurred your vision already, and the more he fucked into you, the more they fluttered out. Your lungs burned at this point, a searing heat cutting through your chest. Anything you try to say comes out incoherently, a sputtered and garbled mess, when it’s not a pitiful sob.

You push your hips back against him in an attempt to fuck yourself on his cock while Dabi fucks your puffy cunt, drawing a condescending chuckle from him. The jolt of overstimulation beckoned you to crawl away and relieve yourself of him, but the need to have him thrusting and cumming inside you overcame it. His release and what it would feel like to have his cum mixing with your juices and dripping out of you was all you could think about, as if entranced in a spell that bound your consciousness to that one thing. The rest of your thoughts were jumbled and incoherent even to you, the drool trickling out your mouth and the rolling of your eyes into the back of your head representative of that.

As Dabi watched your pussy envelop him, he couldn’t help but envision his name carved into your asscheeks with a sharpened claw of his. Ah, the squeals and squeaks that crawl out of you would be divine in the most sinful way possible, and the threads of blood that would trickle down your skin would taste head-spinningly beautiful. Maybe next time. Dabi’s jaw clenched at the throb of his cock within your sputtering, velvety walls, the tightness in his abdomen building. Just one more...

“Fuck, little one...!”

As the demon drags sharp claws up your thigh and asscheek, it leaves red ribbons in its wake and the squeeze of your cunt and pitiful squeal tells him well that you’re enjoying it far more than you ever thought you would.

“Such a good fucking human... good fuckin’ hole,” he grunts, voice strained. His hand plants on the middle of your back and pushes hard, bowing your poor back as his other hand keeps your hips up, his cock ramming into you at a faster pace. Dabi lets out a loud groan when he sees the blissed out, tear-stained, drool-covered face of yours before his thrusting loses rhythm and he suddenly feels your pussy flutter around him hard in orgasm again, soaking him in your slick again. Finally he allows himself to find the release you’d internally begged for, fucking into you at a less than rhythmic pace as his own mind begins to become overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Ah, shit. Fuck, fuck, motherfucking-!”

Dabi soon finds his teeth embedded into your flesh and gripping it hard enough to leave a bruise or even cut into the skin as his hips move entirely on their own against you. With a strained moan he cums, thick, warm ropes of cum painting your fluttering, sensitive, and overstimulated walls as you literally cry and sob underneath him, his hips still involuntarily thrusting into you as your cunt milks him for all he’s worth.

“Fucking hell,” he bites out, body relaxing against yours as he comes down from the high, yet he doesn’t pull out. “I missed this.” His voice is breathy and littered with pants against your neck. Dabi leaves a few wet kisses to it before leaning back and slowly pulling out with a groan, leaving you empty and dripping before him. He watches as his cum begins to trickle out but is quick to gather it with his fingers and push it roughly back into your pulsating cunt.

“Atta fuckin’ girl.”

Your poor head spins and you don’t know up from down, so Dabi ushers you to lay down and before he knows it, you’re passed out asleep. Eh, he’ll consider aftercare next time maybe. With a yawn that’s more out of sudden boredom than it is exhaustion, Dabi lays down next to you and props his head up with his hand, leaning against his elbow as he watches you sleep peacefully, a complete contrast to a few mere minutes ago. With a smirk he wipes the tears off your cheeks. Those cheeks...

“I oughta answer sacrifices more often.”

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #dabi #mha #bnha #blue hour.#*throws candy* happy halloween have some mediocre smut!

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andilovetowrite · 3 years

Text

Punch To The Heart (Part 3)

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: After repeatedly blowing you off on plans, events and trips, you have finally had enough. But Peter soon regrets it as he sees the harsh reality of almost losing his best friend.

Based on a request, you can find it here!

Warnings: Shooting and violence. But nothing too graphic. Some angst and crying, but also a lot of fluff :)

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to find more of my work :)

Part 1

Part 2

We’ve got he--r

Stay with us Y/nnnn

Come on, try anythin--

Oh, thank go-

Words swam in and out of your head, floating in front of you and into your ears. Voices shouted from either side of you at some point. You could feel yourself slipping into some type of unconsciousness, with bright white light shining through your eyelids. You could hear Peter’s voice mix in with your parent’s voices. You could hear May’s voice, and through some type of veil, you could listen to Uncle Ben’s voice as well. Sure that you were hallucinating, you tried to open your eyes but blacked out before you could try….

You regained your consciousness at some point, your brain making sense that you could not move your body. Which meant you were unable to roll your eyes. But you could feel things. The blinding sorts of pain in your stomach and right thigh. The rough material of some type of gauze covering your entire lower body. Your back bare, with your front covered in a flimsy cloth. And for a quick moment, you thought you were back in the van, with kidnappers and terrorists. And the thought alone made you pass out again…

The last time that you woke up, you were hit with a multitude of sounds and noises. Carts being pushed, metal creaking, glasses clinking. You could hear voices as well. The soft drawl of some lady next to you, one that you vaguely remember. A comforting voice, one that you were familiar with because she woke you up in the mornings. Your mom. Another deeper voice was trying to calm her down—your dad. A worried, yet the firm say that you knew since you went to her house every other day. Aunt May.

But one specific voice was loud and clear to you. High, slightly cracked, chocked up. A voice that you could recognise even if you were half dead. A voice that you grew up with, a voice that was by your side for years. A voice that now seemed to be crying softly from the other side of the room.

So with whatever energy you had left in you, you opened your eyes and whispered. “Peter”

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“Peter”, Peter said, shocked, staring at your body. “Did she just say, Peter?”

The doctor nodded, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Yes, she did, I believe. Are you her boyfriend? Or a family member?”

Peter shook his head, still staring dumbfounded at you. “I’m her best friend.”

The doctor sighed. “Alright, well, here is what we know so far-”

“Wait, shouldn’t Mr and Ms Y/L/N be here? To get an update on their daughter?“Peter interrupted, trying to see where they were. The doctor sighed again.

“They had to go to a business meeting and told me that a lady named May Parker would be her guardian until they return in a couple of weeks.”

Peter’s mouth flew open. “They left her?”

The doctor nodded, looking at you sadly. “Yes, they did, but I will send them daily updates about how she is doing.”

Peter licked his dry lips, suddenly realising how parched his throat was. “Here, drink some water, and I’ll tell you how she is.” Peter took the plastic cup from him, drinking it down.

“So first of all, she is getting better. Our team of doctors had predicted that she would likely be in a coma for the next few days, but she has regained consciousness, and her fluids are good. Her internal organs are getting stronger, and hopefully, if all goes well, she should wake up for good in the next day or two.”

The doctor read his papers, nodding politely at Peter, who was visibly calmer. The doctor looked at his watch, tutting softly. “It’s late. I would advise you to go home. Get a couple of hours of sleep. You can come back in the afternoon.”

Peter looked out, confused when he saw the starting rays of sunshine come in through the window. He was so tired that he didn’t realise that he had been in the hospital for 9 hours. Peter looked at you, weighing his options. As if the doctor could sense what was going on in his head, he patted Peter’s back. “Visiting hours have been over since 3 am. But it opens up again at 11. Go and rest for a bit. It’ll do you good.” Peter averted his eyes to you again before he nodded, kissing your cold forehead lightly before he walked out, hoping to get some sleep or rest.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He didn’t get any sleep. Usually, if he couldn’t, he would call you or swing over to your house. Well, not usually. Ever since he started dating MJ, he wouldn’t even go to your home. And MJ never let him come over in the night, too paranoid that her parents would find Peter. Oh, and forget about patching him up after patrol. She would get sick at the sight of Peter’s bruises and injuries. One time, he even had to swing to the compound because he had been shot.

None of that would have happened if he had just been a good friend. Been a good best friend. If only he had not fought with you that day, not ignored you, then you wouldn’t be in the hospital with pipes going in and out of you.

Peter couldn’t shake his fear and paranoia, creeping out of his bed quietly, to not wake up May. Slowly walking to the bathroom, he looked in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes stared back at him. He ran his fingers through his hair, wincing slightly. Tears slipped down his face, little by little as he tried to imagine how worried you might have been. Soon, he couldn’t see anything, as salty tears fell into the sink infront of him. “Oh god, Y/N”, he said, voice cracking. He dejectedly went back to his room, grabbing his suit. Instinctively, he pulled it on, opening his window slightly. Jumping out the window, he didn’t even know where he was going. Somehow, he ended up back at the hospital, looking into your window. It was open, letting in the warm air into your room. He sighed, letting the mask fall off his face. He let the wind go through his curls, feeling it dry the lines of water on his face. Suddenly, he heard some noise from your window. Looking closer, he saw your eyes flicker open, and your voice walf over to him.

“You can come in, you know? Everybody has gone to sleep…”, you said, your voice cracked and scratchy from not using it. Peter just stood still for a couple seconds, too shocked to move.

You were alive! And speaking to him…

Jumping in, he landed softly, not wanting to cause a scene. “He-hey”, Peter said, stuttering. You smiled at him, tiredness showing on your features.

“Hey Peter, are you okay?”, you asked, eyes going over his own, how disheveled he looked.

“You-I, I’m not the biggest thing you should worry about Y/N! You-you were shot. Twice. How-I don’t-wha-”

You reached out to him, wincing as you moved your arm. Peter noticed this, running over to you. “Don’t-don’t do that, you can hurt yourself”, he said, worry evident in his eyes.

You sighed, sitting back. “Pete, why don’t you change out of the suit. I don’t want nurses to walk by and see Spiderman in my room… especially if you don’t have a mask.”

Peter nodded, pressing the small button on his suit that made it shrink up, revealing his clothes underneath. Peter didn’t say anything, but walked over to you, hands in his pockets.

“How are you feeling?”, Peter asked, sitting down gingerly at the side of your bed. You shrugged, not knowing what to say. A few minutes passes, the silence becoming suffocating. Almost simultaneously, you both said.

“I’m sorry”

Looking at Peter, you saw him staring at you indercously.

“Why are you sorry?”

Again, you both shut your mouths, and as easily as you could, you gestured to Peter to say something. “Why-why are you sorry? I’m the one who put you in danger Y/N! Yo-you could’ve died.”Peter rambled, eyes starting to glisten as he looked at your body, how those men had hurt you. “I-if I had just not fought with you, then you wouldn’t have walked out of the school, and I wouldn’t have had to give you the bag, and then they wouldn’t have targetted you. Y/N, I’m the reason you are in the hospital. I can’t-yo-you got so badly hurt, I can-no” By this time, the dam inside Peter had broken, as tears started streaming down his face.

You could feel your own throat start to close up, so you did the only thing you could think of. You opened your arms up, letting Peter crawl in. He kept his weight off you, so not to hurt you even more. You ran your fingers up and down his back, calming him down.

“It’s alright, Peter. I would have them rather come for me than yo-”

“No”, Peter said firmly, trying to mask the crack in his voice. “Don’t say that. You are far more important than me, you can’t even wish that Y/N”

You smiled sadly. “Peter, the world needs Spiderman. They don’t need me…”

“No no no”, Peter said, making you look at him. “So many people need you Y/N”

“No, they don’t, Pete. My parents don’t care. I mean, they aren’t here, are they? What is it this time? A business trip?”

Peter tried to object, but he knew that you wouldn’t believe him. “I-I need yo-”

“And don’t say that you need me, because you had no problem spending time with M-”

“I broke up with her”, Peter said hurriedly, wanting to get it out as soon as possible.

You nodded, feeling guilty as a small part of you rejoiced. “Good for you”, you said, emotionless. An awkward silence enveloped the air around you two again, but this time, it became too much. Out of nowhere, you started crying, choked hiccups and sobs coming from your throat.

“Y/N!”, Peter said, smoothening your hair.

“I-I’m sorry. I was just so sc-scared and I was sure I was going to die, and I just can’t do-” You said, hugging yourself softly, as you looked at him through blurry eyes. And you didn’t have to say anything before Peter hugged you closer, the last thing you saw was his brown irises before you dropped to sleep…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr Lee walked around the hall, looking at the different rooms before he reached Y/N Y/L/N’s room, and he had to clean his glasses twice to see what he think he saw. Hugging you, with your legs intertwined, was Peter. Your face snuggled into his chest, his arms were looped around you, holding you close. What was the most astonishing thing was how even your breathing and charts were. No patient who had ever gotten shot would’ve recovered so quick, but he could see something was different.

Carefully opening the door, he quietly watched as Peter stirred, eyes flickering open as he drowsily smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead before falling back asleep.

Dr Lee sighed, smiling at them. “Oh, they are obviously in love….”

Ooh, I really liked this part! Anyway, thank you for reading this, and the next (and last) part will be out later this week, possibly on Friday or Saturday. If you want to be tagged in the next part of the following fics, please just respond to this one telling me that. Until next time👋👋

Tagged: @a--1--1--3 @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x bestfriend reader #peter parker angst #shooting #violence #angst #fluff #x reader #y/n

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Whumptober Day 29: Emergency Room

CW: Medical whump, sick whumpee, hospital whump, brief references to past child abuse and resulting traumatic association

Immediately follows Infection and Disorientation

Chris wakes up in the middle of a sentence.

Or rather, when his brain switches back on and he is conscious on a level he can participate in, he’s already talking, and the first thing he is aware of is a woman’s face, brown-skinned and with a slightly dry smile, watching him as he is saying, “-and, and, and then I saw, um, saw towels and the, the, the colors were all wrong, so, so I fixed them.”

“Oh, did you,” The woman replies, and there is a guarded kindness in her. “That was very kind of you.” He blinks at her, his vision slowly coming into focus. Chris takes a deep breath only to wince as a hazy sort of pain ripples up his right side. She leans over, a little closer. Her hair, black and full of tightly-wound curls slips over her shoulders and forwards, just brushing her cheeks. “Are you back with us? Don’t breathe so deep yet, okay?” She tilts her head, putting a hand up to push some hair back from his face. Jake does that sometimes, and Chris turns his head to encourage the affection, closing his eyes again.

Eyes closed feels better.

In the clinic they’re always kinder to trainees, if still brusque, businesslike, getting them in and out with bandages applied, fevers broken, internal injuries healed with rest and whatever drips down the IV to make them sleep when they have done nothing but beg for sleep since they lost themselves to the Drip.

The nurses are nicer than the handlers, and this one is talking to him and touching him but only where he wants her to, and that makes her the nicest of all.

The way the world is spinning begins to settle when his eyes are closed and she lays her hand briefly against the side of his face, and he breathes a little more easily. He must not be in trouble, if she’s allowed to be so nice.

There’s something beeping nearby, and he doesn’t like the flat white light coming from the fluorescents in the ceiling laying on exposed skin - he can feel its weight on his arms where they lay on top of the scratchy rough blanket - but at least it isn’t a cold light.

He shivers, opening his eyes to look down at himself, blinking. There are blankets pulled up to just under his arms, pale blue and sort of rough and soft, both at once, pilling so badly he can pick the little balls of fabric off bit by bit with one hand. Normally trainees don’t get blankets in the clinic, they’re supposed to freeze here, too.

He must have been very good but hurt anyway. Sometimes the handlers just want to hurt you, even when you’re good, because your tears are beautiful, too.

Besides, 499, you wanted this - you signed up so we would make you cry, right? Give me your arm, a little half-dose of purple should get you nice and worked up for us.

He tries to obey, rolling his left arm slowly over to expose the marked-up space at the inside of his left elbow - bandages wrapped around his left wrist over his barcode crinkling - and then realizes something is on - is in - his left arm. There’s… there’s a needle in his arm already, with a thin tube that runs up to a stand on wheels with multiple bags hooked onto it, and he thinks there’s something down below his waist, too. A catheter.

He’s been bad, then. There’s only one reason to have a needle in his elbow and a catheter in, but when he tries to panic, he’s… he’s too tired, and too dizzy, and too foggy, to feel very scared at all. Even if they are going to take him away again, it’s too late. The Drip is already in his veins and there he goes, all of him, wiped clean all over again.

The soft throb of pain along his right side, wrapped up in the gentle blanket that covers his mind, makes it clear he’s not going anywhere very fast, not today. The handlers will have to leave him alone, and that’s good, but if he’s here and on the Drip, it means he’s back again.

Back in the Facility, here to be wiped, refurbished, and sent back to Sir or to someone new… and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

He feels his throat closing against helplessness - no, he was rescued, he was rescued and they said he’d never go back… they swore, they promised, Jake and Nat promised they wouldn’t let him go back, Jake would have fought them, he would have done something-

Tears flood Chris’s eyes and he hitches in a breath on a whimper. Jake must have gotten too hurt to save him. He must have, he might even be dead-

If it weren’t for you, she’d still be alive-

“Hey, hey, come on now.” The soft female voice is closer now, and her hand is back on his face, up to run back through his hair as he sniffles, coughs, winces as the dull pain sharpens briefly and then fades again. “It’s okay, you’re okay. It’s just the hospital, yeah? Your appendix ruptured, you had to come here in an ambulance, had some pretty serious surgery. Can you remember that?”

His eyes manage to open, blurred through his tears, and he looks at her. She’s not wearing the uniforms that handlers or even the nurses wear, but a softly floral scrub top and plain navy pants. Her smile is different than any nurse’s in the clinic that he’s ever seen. She’s looking at him, not through him.

“I d-don’t know where, where, where I am,” He whispers, and she nods, her smile still in place.

“I know. That’s why I’m the one sitting here with you right now. You’re in the county hospital. You’re okay, Chris.”

Not 223499, but Chris.

He reaches back into his own mind and finds the train track that Jake and Nat are on, remembers their faces, their names, the way it feels when they hold him. He brings up the memory of Jake pulling his shirt off, handing it to Chris, whispering, I’ll come back, I promise.

He remembers Jake carrying him up the stairs three days later.

Chris holds, for a moment, the memory of Jake looking at him as they loaded him onto the plastic-backed bed-thing in the ambulance. He can remember, clearly, Jake's voice. We’ll be right behind you, Chris. I swear to God I’ll be there. I promise you, buddy, we’ll bring you back home.

He’s awake.

Jake isn’t here.

“Um, J-Jake, my, my… my…” Chris shakes his head, like a dog shaking off water. What had Nat been saying, before the ambulance came? Talking to Jake, the two of them, going over their story. His name is Christopher Stanton. He’s my little brother, and he’s autistic. “My, my, my my my brother, my-... he p-promised, where’s-... need my, my, my brother-”

“I texted Yoder when you started talking,” The woman says gently. “They’ll be up to see you in just a minute, okay?”

He tries to believe her.

There’s a fog in his thoughts and the trains are all running, but slow, finding their way, winding around the gray clouds in his head. “I, I was talking already,” Chris whispers. “Even… though I wasn’t, um, awake.”

His throat feels a little scratchy and rough, like someone shoved something down there, but the agonizing pain he’d been in - the sharp ache that had been a knife shredding him to nothing again and again and again - is gone. In its place there’s a duller throb, and the sense of floating inside a very nice fog. Like the fog he hates, but… better, somehow, too.

“I was… was asleep, and now… ‘m talking, but, but I was still, um, asleep, and… and and and… and talking…”

“Yes, that happens. It’s coming out of sedation, you kind of wake up before you really wake up, you know? I’ve done this before, and you know, I had someone once who… came back to himself in the middle of telling me about a margarita recipe he used to make for his girlfriend. He didn’t remember it any longer when he was awake. That’s the fun of recovery, I hear all kinds of things when I’m with someone. My wife proposed to me in recovery from her own surgery, you know. She doesn’t remember it at all.”

“You… you you you said yes?” Chris looks back at her. He can focus his eyes again, and the look of her is nice. Soft, but like she’s had to be hard before. Like Nat looks, sometimes, only Nat doesn’t have a wife, or anyone at all but… but Jake, just like everyone else has Jake to help.

He moves his right hand, gingerly - he can feel the thick bandage wrapped around his left, and is never less than terribly aware of the needle in his elbow - and she takes it in both of hers.

Her hands are cool, and dry. He smiles, faintly, and lets his head fall back against a flat pillow behind him. There’s a window to his left, three panes of glass, and outside, when he turns his head, he can see some trees, a courtyard. Birds hopping around the branches, but he can’t quite see what kind they are.

The woman squeezes his hand lightly. Chris takes a breath. This isn’t the clinic, because there are no windows at WRU. You’re never allowed to see outside, not until your owner is ready for you, not until you are good enough to go home.

Going outside is a privilege a pet has to earn.

This… this must be what an actual hospital looks like. He’s seen them on TV, sometimes. The TV ones didn’t really look much like this.

The woman keeps his hand in one of hers and uses the other to check her phone. “Oh, I made her ask again when she was all the way conscious, but yes.”

“That’s, that’s that’s nice. I’m Chris.” His voice is low, and shy, and he doesn’t see her nod - he doesn’t want to stop looking out the window at the clear morning sky - but he can kind of feel it, anyway.

“I know, sweetheart. Your family will be here any second, but they wanted you to have someone when you woke up, so I’m kind of sitting in for them for a bit. Don’t worry, they’re on their way.”

“Jake-”

“Yes, I’m told there’s a man named Jake and, you know, I know Yoder pretty well by now.”

“Why… why, why why why do y’call… Nat? Yoder?”

“Hm? Oh, I don’t know. Just always have. Used to be we weren’t allowed to know each other’s first names, so I guess the habit stuck. How are you feeling?”

“Um. Weird. Am, am, am I… give m’drugs?” Fear hits, again, but it’s faded, a shadow of itself. He shifts his left arm and feels tape pull against the skin inside his elbow, looks at the tubing that runs from the needle up to a bag hanging on a metal stand. There’s a machine, too, that shows numbers he doesn’t understand. His eyebrows furrow. “Was I… bad?”

“No, sweetie, no. No. You just had to have surgery, and you have to be knocked out for that.” The woman pats his hand again, and Chris tries to relax himself. There’s a window, and if there’s a window, he’s not going back. He recites the differences like an incantation. Like a chant. Like a prayer, to keep him safe, as long as he does everything just right.

There’s a window, and so he can’t be going back. He can see outside, the sky and the sun, and so he’s not going back. There’s kindness here, compassion and warmth, and so he isn’t going back. His wrists and ankles aren’t strapped down to the bed, so he’s not going back. Her hand holds his but it doesn’t touch him anywhere he doesn’t want, so he’s not going back. “Do you know what an appendix is, Christopher?”

Chris looks back at her. She has a nice face, and warm eyes, and calls him a name and not a number, so he’s not going back.

He can remember Jake, so he’s not going back.

Jake will come find him, and he’s not going back.

“No, ma’am,” He says, softly.

She laughs, and he likes the sound of her laughing, shaking her head, her curls moving with her. “Not a ma’am, thanks. I appreciate the politeness, though. I just don’t like being ‘ma’am’d, I’m not quite that old yet, now am I?”

“Where… where, where where where Jake is from, you c-call… everybody sir or, or ma’am, if you’re… if you’re raised right.” He tries to put the hint of sarcasm, dry and cynical, that Jake always has when he says it, but it doesn’t work for him. He can tell it doesn’t quite sound the same. He is floating, in this warmly lit room, watching the sky change from grayish-pink to purplish and finally to a pale blue, going cooler and deeper at the top.

The sun is rising, warm, to wash away the cold light.

“Well, that’s not where I’m from. In any case, your appendix is this little doohickey right there along your right side, and yours got infected. So Yoder-... well, Nat, I guess - called a mutual friend of ours-”

“Am-... ambulance,” Chris whispers, thinking of the two people, moving around him. His memories are faded and terrified and full of pain, but he thinks of the gloved hand on his shoulder, the hint of a brusque, calm reassurance, cool focused expression and clear brown eyes. “Finn.”

“Right. That’d be my friend. Then you weren’t feeling super great when we got you here, your appendix burst and you sure gave Mandela a job to do cleaning out that infection, huh? Finn stuck around to help out with that, they trained as an Army medic. Did they tell you that?”

Chris just blinks at her, and slowly shakes his head.

“Yeah, way back. Signed up right out of high school, dealt with some scary shit when things got tense at the Canadian border when Canada started taking runaways… anyway, they’re good in a pinch, but so am I, I guess.” She shrugs. “We can’t trust everybody, so… they helped us get you stable, and then we got you in and out of that OR. Just between us, though? Can you keep a secret?”

Chris blinks twice, then slowly nods.

“Good. Just between us, I think they stuck around because they took a shine to you. Anyway, now you’re hooked up-... let’s see, they said you wouldn’t like the IVs, so let me tell you, it’s something for your pain and a literal ton of antibiotics, that’s all.”

“An, antibiotics-... for the, um, the the infection?”

“Right. That’s all it is, I promise, antibiotics and something to make sure your incision doesn’t hurt too badly. Mandela knows her work, you should be able to leave in the next few days. Mandela’s kind of an arrogant blowhard, but she’s also maybe the second-best surgeon I’ve ever met and she’s, you know, safe… for you. Lucky for us she was meeting someone at that Starbucks across from the hospital, huh?”

“... lucky, lucky for us,” Chris repeats, just to show he’s listening, but he doesn’t quite understand what he’s being told. He could, he thinks, if he could just wake all the way up, but the hint of fog makes the connections a little more difficult, more of a struggle. “Um, can, can I, can I ask-... are you… Tori?”

The woman blinks, and then laughs again, and Chris smiles faintly in return. He wants her to laugh again and again, it’s a nice laugh, it changes the light inside the hospital room when she laughs like that. Makes it brighter, more like sunshine and less like a cold white room with a door he can’t open.

He wonders if her wife makes her laugh.

“Oh, Finn got chatty in the ambulance, hm? Well-”

There are footsteps, and the woman turns before she can answer his question.

“Let’s see… 210, 212… 214… here it is, 216, this should be it. Jake, damn it, knock first-”

The door opens with a hard jerk of the knob, and Chris looks to the doorway. He knows the bit of blond hair before he sees the face it belongs to. The fog inside his head is familiar, but it hasn’t taken anything away from him.

They didn’t take Jake away.

He lets go of the woman and a smile stretches across his face. The throb of pain is gone, it can’t hold together under the weight of the warmth inside him. “Jake!”

Jake moves through the doorway, eyes on Chris, the bright blue focused and intense, shadowed from lack of sleep. His hair mussed, and he’s still wearing the clothing Chris saw him in last, rumpled. He drops a backpack on the floor as he moves, and he doesn’t even seem to realize he’s done it. Nat appears behind him, her braid half-undone, circles under her eyes dug in even more deeply than the ones under Jake’s.

Jake leans over him, one knee up on the bed. “Hey, buddy.”

“Hi, hi, hi, um, hi-... h-hi, Jake.” He holds out one hand. “Um, can you, could, could you please-”

“Oh, Christ, be careful, he just had surgery!”

The woman’s warning is lost, because Jake is already hugging him.

Warm, strong arms around him, and he tucks his head right under Jake’s chin and breathes in the familiar smell of him, deodorant and cologne and the laundry-smell from his shirt, the skin-smell of Jake underneath all of it. The simplest way to anchor himself, the greatest certainty he has that he isn’t going back, because Jake is here, and Jake would never let anyone take him away, not ever again.

“There were people having a fucking pizza party in the ER waiting area while you were in surgery, I thought I’d kill them with my bare hands if I had to listen to it any longer. Who the fuck orders fucking delivery pizza at the ER?” Jake’s voice is cracking, and Chris hums, twisting his right hand into Jake’s shirt, twist-and-release, then finger-twist-tap-tap-tap, and it’s solid and real and the sun is so pretty outside the window.

“Sorry I, I, I, I didn’t tell you I was, um, was sick,” Chris whispers.

“Sorry I didn’t know without you having to tell me,” Jake whispers back. “I hate hospitals, little man, you have no idea how much I hate having to tell lies in a hospital again. Fuck, I hate hospitals so fucking much.”

“Me, me, me me me, me too, but, um, but it’s okay with you here. It’s okay. It’s, it’s not-”

“It’s not the same,” Jake says softly.

“Right. Not, not, not the same. I’m, I’m, I’m not, not, not, um, not going… going back.”

“Never, Chris. Not ever. Letting you go in that ambulance without me is the second-hardest thing I’ve ever fucking done,” Jake whispers, and tears build in Chris’s eyes as he buries himself against Jake’s neck, his hands making short, jerky little flapping motions as he struggles to keep the feelings inside him from overwhelming his ability to speak.

“What, what, what was, was the hardest?”

“What?”

“What’s, um, what’s… what’s the, the, the… the-the hardest thing? You’ve, you’ve ever, um… ever done?"

Jake’s breath hitches, and there are tears in his voice as he holds on tight. “Sitting in fucking limbo knowing I couldn’t be the one to help you.”

Chris swallows back a twist inside his heart. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah, just… having to be stuck outside while someone else did all that shit that it feels like I’m supposed to do.”

There’s a sudden rustle at the window, and Chris turns his head just enough to see a flutter of red wings disappear down towards the courtyard below.

---

Tori belongs to @whump-tr0pes and is used with permission and great love

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly, @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary

#whumptober2020 #no. 29 #emergency room #sick whumpee #hospital whump #medical whump #conditioning #trauma recovery #trauma recovery whump #recovering whumpee #surgery reference #brief child abuse reference #box boy #box boy universe #box boy multiverse #chris the strawberry blond romantic #jake the shelter guy #found family #listen let me have my heavy-handed touches okay.

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duchesschameleon · 3 years

Text

what if - chapter 7

summary: a long lost letter leads to an adventure in Italy for three people who find love and healing along the way. a letters to juliet au

pairing: Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader words: 3142 a/n: okay, the last three chapters are big ones, so buckle up! the whole fic is written, I’m just working through editing and cleaning it up. there’s no warnings for this one (I think, please let me know if I need to add any!) so enjoy! please throw a comment or a reblog my way if you like it!! and as always, thank you to @qvid-pro-qvo for being the best beta

what if masterlist

You wake up the next morning feeling both refreshed and almost hungover. Your throat is dry and eyes are scratchy from the crying but you also feel well rested and definitely a bit lighter. You get ready slowly, taking your time to make sure any traces of your crying are gone.

It’s later than normal when you join Aaron and Dave for breakfast. They’re sitting at the normal table, but Aaron looks tense. He can’t stay still, fidgeting in his seat. When you’re close to the table, he stands and pulls out your chair for you. You blink at him as you sit down, surprised by the gesture.

“Aaron, don’t you have something you want to say?” Dave asks once Aaron’s sat back down in his chair.

He shoots a dark look at Dave before clearing his throat. “I wanted to apologize for yesterday -”

“In the eyes Aaron,” Dave interrupts. Aaron sighs and shifts in his chair so he’s facing you.

“I want to apologize for yesterday. I was out of line,” he says, brown eyes locked on yours. “I shouldn’t have said that, I don’t mean it, and I’m truly sorry.”

You nod and take a sip of coffee before responding. “Thank you, Aaron.”

It’s really all you can say, now that the truth is out there. Aaron knows about your partner, you know about Haley. You both know loss and you know that both of you don’t want to put Dave through it again.

Conversation is stilted for a few more minutes, even with Dave’s best efforts to get something rolling between you and Aaron. Things finally settle into something comfortable when you bring up your search for Carolyn. There aren’t many left on your list, so you and Aaron choose a few near each other for the day.

It winds up being a short day of searching and not a successful one. Lunch might be the most interesting part of the day, at a restaurant that you would never expect to find nor to like so much. It’s a family owned restaurant just off the main road connecting some of the small towns near Siena. You probably would have driven past it, Aaron too, but Dave has an eye for these things. For the small things that turn out to be magical, with delicious food and great wine.

“The gift of old age, of slowing down,” Dave jokes when you bring it up. You feel your cheeks heat up, embarrassed at inadvertently calling Dave old but he tuts at you. “None of that, it’s all about the experience of life. You’re young, focused on going places and doing big things. You’ll learn to appreciate these small things, spontaneous things, in time. I’m just here to help you find them now.” He winks at you, raising his wine glass in a toast that you reciprocate.

“To the finer things,” you say, clinking glasses with Dave.

“To appreciating life, la vita bella,” Dave adds, pulling back from Aaron’s glass.

“La vita bella,” Aaron whispers as he shifts to clink his glass with yours. You take a sip, holding Aaron’s gaze. He looks away after a few moments, when the air feels too thick between you two. It’s a stark difference from that morning, and a testament to how far your tenuous friendship with Aaron has come.

A week ago, you wouldn’t have imagined being so comfortable in his presence but now, you find that you don’t mind being around him. You actually like spending time with him, and you know that you’ve already forgiven him in your head for his words yesterday.

It’s a thought that sticks in the back of your head for the rest of the day, how you have forgiven him. Even if you aren’t fully certain why. You know that you hadn’t told him your full story, even when the perfect opportunity presented itself as you explored Siena two days earlier, so it wasn’t his fault for not knowing you had experienced the same loss he has. He was scared for his friend, his mentor, and you can understand that. But there’s something more to it, you just can’t put a finger on it. Instead, you shove it all to the back of your mind and focus on the remaining Carolyn’s for the day.

It doesn’t take long to rule them both out and you find yourselves back in Siena by mid-afternoon. You head to your room, eager to work more on the story and see what you have so far. Aaron and Dave spend some time poolside and try to convince you to join them, but you stick to your plan.

You sit back in the desk chair, looking over what you have. You know it’s solid, that you’re building a compelling narrative. But you’re missing an ending.

You know there are still Carolyn’s left on your list. You also know that there’s a chance Dave’s Carolyn did leave this area. There’s a chance you won’t find her on this trip, or ever. You hope that isn’t the case, you want Dave to find her and have his happily ever after, but you know that the chances of that happening are dwindling.

There’s a knock on your door, pulling you from your downward spiral. You shake the thoughts from your head as you unlock the door and pull it open.

“Uh, hi.” Aaron says, hands in his pockets and rocking slightly on his feet. “I-we just wanted to see if you were joining us for dinner.”

Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance at your watch. Well, shoot. You’d been up here for longer than planned and sure enough, it’s well into the evening and time for dinner.

“Give me five minutes to change, I can meet you downstairs,” you say, closing the door as you turn back into your room. You hear Aaron huff out a laugh and roll your eyes, knowing that means he’ll be right on the other side of the door waiting for you.

And sure enough, when you pull back the door Aaron is there looking at his watch. “Five minutes on the dot, I’m impressed.”

You roll your eyes in response as you lock the door and turn towards the elevators. The two of you walk in silence to the hotel’s restaurant where you find Dave waiting at a table. There’s already a bottle of wine on the table, from the local vineyard that supplies the hotel with all it’s wine, and three glasses poured.

“I would like to propose a toast,” Dave says, once you both sit down. He faces you, raising a glass in your direction. “Thank you, for everything you’ve done for a complete stranger. It has been the most incredible adventure to be here again in Italy and to have met you.”

You smile at Dave, heart warmed by his words. “Thank you for letting me tag along, it’s been the greatest week.”

Dave smirks at you over his glass. “I think you’ve done a little more than tag along,” he notes, eyes flicking over to Aaron before winking at you.

After that, the conversation flows easily between all three of you as you share stories about your loved ones, reliving adventures with them. It’s a night filled with laughter, with memories, and a few tears. But it’s enjoyable. Things feel more relaxed, you’re comfortable with Dave and Aaron. Which is shocking given that a week ago you barely knew them and argued with Aaron constantly. Crazy what a week in a car searching for a woman can do.

Later that night, you’re out stargazing aimlessly. On the outskirts of the city, you can see more stars than you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s gorgeous and given the fact you aren’t tired yet, you find there’s no harm walking around the hotel grounds.

On a grass covered hill, you find Aaron laying on the ground. As you get closer, you see that he’s looking up at the stars, silent and pensive. He looks almost peaceful, tranquil. It’s a different look from the relaxed smile you’re used to seeing as he drives around Tuscany.

“Mind if I join you?” you ask, standing over Aaron.

He starts and leans up on his elbows, nodding. “No, not at all.” You lay down beside him, staring straight at the sky. You can feel the warmth from Aaron’s body, see his eyes flicker over to you in your peripheral vision.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever seen so many stars in my life,” you whisper. Your eyes sweep over the constellations, taking in the sheer number of stars in the sky.

“It’s incredible,” Aaron replies and you turn your head to look at him. “I only see stars like this when I take Jack camping. It’s not often unfortunately, but we always spend at least one night stargazing way past bedtime.”

You smile and turn your head back to the stars. It’s incredible to see the night sky so full of light and dimension. You’re used to the flat black of New York, the buildings providing all the light and color. This is something completely different and makes you feel so small.

Aaron clears his throat, and you can tell he’s getting ready to say something so you turn your head back to him. He says your name, almost whispers it, and pauses. “I - I wanted to apologize, again, for yesterday. I really am sorry. I was out of line, and I want you to know how sorry I am,” he says, brown eyes full of remorse.

You suck in a breath, trying to find the right words. “Apology accepted, Aaron. Truly. You didn’t know. I could have, probably should have, told you before but,” you take another breath, forcing yourself to slow down, “I was scared. Telling you felt big, it felt scary. It felt like, almost like it was more real than it has been,” you admit. Aaron had been a person who didn’t know - who didn’t give you the look of pity and sadness whenever he saw you. And when he told you about Haley, you knew he probably would never be that person. Telling him then, became an even more daunting task. As if he would truly know you, truly understand just what you were feeling. The pain, the grief, the way it feels never-ending and like an ocean you cannot cross.

“I know what you mean,” Aaron whispers. “When you tell people, you have to face it all over again. It’s like picking at a scab.” You huff out a soft laugh at his choice of analogy but nod before turning back to look at the stars. You’re both silent, just looking at the night sky. It’s a comfortable silence, finally. You feel yourself relaxing into the grass and just enjoying the moment, enjoying Aaron’s company.

“Do you think she’s out there? Carolyn?” Aaron’s question cuts through the silence, makes you think.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “She’s out there somewhere, I have to believe that.”

“Am I wrong to want Dave to stop, to call this off?”

“No,” you say slowly, “he can’t go on forever. No one can. You have to stop at some point.”

Aaron lets out a sigh. “Then why do I feel like Jack on Sunday?” he mumbles. “It’s nearly time for school and I don’t want to go.”

When you turn your head to respond, you meet Aaron’s eyes. They’re warm and open, filled with wonder. You hold his gaze for a moment before his eyes flicker down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

And then you’re both slowly moving in, and your lips are touching. You’re kissing Aaron. His lips are soft and gentle as they move over yours. One of his hands holds your chin in place, keeping you still as he deepens the kiss. His tongue runs along the seam of your lips and you open them. You lose track of time, kissing Aaron, reaching out an arm to wrap around his back and pull him close to you. He shifts, the hand on your jaw moving to wrap around your shoulders, his other down your back and rolling you so you settle on top of him. Your lips move together, exploring each other, until you pull back for a much needed breath.

You’re still holding Aaron, still resting on top of him, when it hits you. You were kissing Aaron. You roll off of him, laying on your back again. The tension that had been so present your first few days with Aaron is back, the air tense between you. You stay still, mind racing as you process what just happened and what to do next. Aaron’s just as still and silent beside you, neither one of you daring to speak first.

After a minute of silence, you make your decision. You sit up, take a breath, and then stand to walk away, leaving Aaron on the hill without saying a word.

You don’t look back, focused on making it to your room. You miss the way Aaron sits up, watching you walk away. You miss the way his jaw drops as he processes what just happened, the kiss, the situation, the fact that he kissed you a day after finding out you’d lost your partner only months before. You miss the figure in a window overlooking the hill moving his hand to let the curtains fall back into place as he smiles and shakes his head.

Sleep comes to you in fits that night, the kiss replaying over and over again in your head as you toss and turn.

Logic had made you walk away without a word - you’d recently lost your partner, you live in New York, Aaron lives in DC. Someone would have to give something up for the two of you to be together. And what would everyone say about you finding someone so soon? It’s been four months, that has to be too soon.

But in your heart, you know it’s not. You know that you can’t put a timer on recovery, on grief. And you certainly can’t predict when you’ll meet someone you fall for.

Finally, sleep overtakes your brain and pushes all thoughts of Aaron, of kisses, of relationships out of your head. You’re leaving tomorrow, heading back to Verona and that’s that.

---

“Good morning,” Aaron says, taking your suitcase from you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Alright,” you respond.

“Good.”

You stand at the trunk of the car, unsure what to say next when thankfully Dave comes outside. Aaron walks past you to help Dave with his suitcase, giving you a moment to take a breath and push down all the thoughts of last night.

You walk away from the trunk and give Dave a hug. “Good morning,” you say, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He returns the favor and gives you a little squeeze, helping ground you. “You know, the stars looked amazing out of my window last night, did you get to see them?”

“Yeah, they looked incredible,” you say, pulling open the back door of the car. Dave says your name, stopping you from sliding into your seat.

“Do you mind sitting up front today? I want to stretch my legs a little.”

So you walk around to the passenger seat and settle in, quickly glancing at Aaron as he climbs in. Your heart clenches, knowing what you want but also knowing it’ll be impossible to take.

For someone who wants to stretch his legs, Dave spends a lot of time leaning forward between the front seats, snapping along to the radio and singing in Italian. You have your arm propped up on the door and keep looking at the window, at the scenery passing by. It’s bittersweet to be leaving Tuscany, going back to Verona and then New York in a few days, but as you told Aaron last night, you can’t keep searching forever.

Aaron’s driving on the winding road to the highway when Dave all of a sudden sits up and starts tapping on Aaron’s seat. “Look, it’s the vineyard that the hotel stocks! C’mon, let's go see it. It’s our favorite wine.” Aaron slows the car and turns into the vineyard, looking around to see if there’s any signs about tours or visitation.

The road in is lined with trees and bushes and you can see people in the field working. Aaron’s driving slow, still uncertain if you can even be here, when Dave starts again.

“Stop the car Aaron, stop the car,” he says, moving to unbuckle himself. He’s opening the door as Aaron’s coming to a full stop and looking at one of the women working in the vineyard. You and Aaron climb out the car, following Dave and wondering what is going on.

“It’s Carolyn,” Dave says. He’s looking at the young woman working the field, a woman who could not have been alive in the 60s.

You and Aaron share a skeptical look before turning back to Dave. “Alright, let’s get you in the shade,” Aaron says, trying to steer Dave towards the trees. It hits you then, what might actually be happening here and you approach the woman.

“Uhm, tu sai dove Carolyn Bartolini?” you ask, stumbling over the Italian for ‘do you know where Carolyn Bartolini is?”

“I am Carolyn Bartolini,” the woman responds.

Aaron rushes over to you, saying your name as it falls into place for him. “This is - it’s her granddaughter,” he says, as another woman approaches you.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes,” Aaron says, turning to the new woman, “do you know where Carolyn Bartolini is?”

The woman nods, “I am Carolyn Bartolini.”

“Do you also have a mother named Carolyn Bartolini?” you ask, a smile breaking out on your face.

“Si, she left to go riding a little while ago. Can we help you?”

Aaron introduces the two of you and explains that you’ve been looking for her mother, that Dave knew her long ago.

“Aaron, let’s go,” Dave says, calling the two of you back towards the car. “Let’s go, this was -”

“Dave, Carolyn’s here!” Aaron interrupts. “She’s out riding, but she’s here.”

“Then let's go before she gets back.” For the first time, Dave looks apprehensive, scared almost.

“Dave, we’ve come all this way and she’s here! Come on,” Aaron protests.

“I’ve been ridiculous Aaron, you’ve been saying it all along. I knew Carolyn when I was a boy, I was barely 16. I’m not the same person anymore, so let’s go before she gets back.”

“Dave,” Aaron starts.

But then you hear horseshoes. You see Dave turn his head a little, a wondrous look in his eyes. You turn to see what’s going on behind you and you see her.

Carolyn Bartolini.

taglist: @qvid-pro-qvo @averyhotchner @kelstark @hurricanejjareau @oreogutz @whentheautumnleavesfall

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #letters to juliet #letters to juliet au #romcom au #my writing #what if tag #fic stuff #charlie rambles

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venushasvixens · 4 years

Text

Ch. 4 Back to Beginnings -Life is But a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

WARNING: mild sexual content

The cool air that snuck its way between the buildings blew into you harshly. You placed your hand over your mouth, silencing yourself. You clenched your jaws to keep yourself from chattering, afraid that every little thing was going to give your position away. Whoever you were chasing should've been hiding from you, not from them.

You could hear running in the distance against the pavement, echoing in the alley. It grew closer and closer. Your heartbeat was in your throat, threatening to jump out. You could feel the soft pulse through your fingertips. You couldn't tell if it was from the cold, or from the adrenaline. Was it a bad time to admit you needed to pee?

You were a horrible bounty hunter. You were too loud, you were clumsy with your gun, and body is just far too slow to give chase. Matter of fact, you looked rather ridiculous. But then again, everybody has to start somewhere, right?

Home was far away from here, across the solar system. And as much as you were homesick, fuel for your small, dingy ship cost money, and that was something that you did not possessed at the moment. Not one single woolong. Maybe a few coins and a token from the local arcade. You needed this bounty, and you needed it now.

The running grew louder and louder, the noise filling the alley. You squeezed the handle of your gun, afraid that your it was going to slip. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped. You never really prayed before, but maybe you should start now. One step echoed in the alley. Then another. And then another. Each one growing louder than the next.

You placed your finger on the trigger gently, your hand surprisingly steady. You could see the outline of the woman that was now hunting you, her silhoutte growing bigger and bigger. Even though you were in the shadows of the alley, you definitely were sure that she could see you in the dark clear as day. Then she stopped, maybe a few feet in front of you. In an attempt to scare you, maybe elicit a reaction from you, she flipped out the barrel of her gun, spinning it, and popping it back in, over and over.

"You're sure one shitty bounty hunter." she spoke. You could hear the smile in her voice, one of the last insults in your short life. You could also hear the age as well, scratchy and hoarse. "But what I will let you keep for the next minute is the smallest bit of nerve for trying to take me out."

"You have nerve now to assume that I'll accept that." you blurted out without thinking. It may have been stupid, but do you have all the time in the world now to think it over?

She scoffed. " Oh, please. You're the one thinking that I'll give up myself that easily. And to a little girl with a gun."

You swallowed. "You're not wrong, but I might surprise you."

"Hiding in an alley waiting for the enemy to come to her? Yes, that is very surprising." she cackled, her hair flaying everywhere in the wind. Her arms outstretched, like a villain who just told the hero their heinous plan to take over the world. The dramatics certainly didn't work on you, but you sure thought it was funny.

You start laughing as you got up and dusted yourself off. Not in a mocking tone, or in a conniving way. It was totally genuine. She noticed this, and immediately stopped laughing.

"What"s so goddamn funny?" she ran up on you, her faces inches away from yours. You continued laughing, your head down. "Tell me, or I'll blow your fucking brains out!"

She stuck her gun underneath your chin, snarling and hurling threats at you. This still didn't stop your hysterics. "I-i think.." you couldn't even finish this sentence without a chuckle or too. "I-i honestly think.."

"You think? Spit. It. Out." she growled.

You smiled. "I think.. you are sure one shitty criminal. Your barrel's been empty since your laughing fit a minute ago."

Her face went blank as she looked at her gun, the barrel unloaded.

"Also all your bullets are on the ground behind you." You stated, your mouth into a fine line. She back up, accidentally stepping on few of the bullets. Her legs flew up, landing on her back. You could hear her start wincing and groaning.

"Seriously, how old is your gun?" You snatched her gun out of her hands, inspecting it. At a first glance, it could've been mistaken for a prop gun in an spaghetti western movie. "Wow, this is older than you. And you're ancient."

"Its my lucky gun. Its been with me since I first started in the game." She muttered. She struggled to pick herself up, but before she could, you swiped underneath her knees. She buckled down, stunned.

"I don't think I can let you off that easy. After all, I'm just a little girl with a gun, I don't know what I'm doing." You shrugged.

You aimed your gun at her leg and fired, the shot echoing. Your bounty gasped in shock, then started wailing in agonizing pain. Clutching her leg, she cried out. "Are you fucking insane?!"

"No, I'm just tired." You sighed. "Alright, let's pack it up, John Wayne."

As you finished the story, Spike and Jet could not stop laughing. It wasn't that funny. But with at least with five shots in, it was hilarious.

"John Wayne?!" Jet choked out, clutching his chest.

"I'm not kidding."You smiled. "I thought I was a total badass."

As you all tried to catch your breath, Spike waved over another round of shots. Jet noticed this, and put his hands up.

"No more, Spike." he said, yawning and stretching. "I think its time we hit the hay."

"Oh come on, Jet. At least stay for one more round." you lied, secretly wanting Jet to leave so you could have Spike all to yourself. It felt so odd, wanting someone you barely knew near you. Before today's events, you caught yourself multiple times delving into fantasies where you were confessing your love and affection to this mysterious man, and him returning just as much. He would place his hands on either sides of your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. His eyes looking into yours, And then, that classic fairy tale moment would come. A sweet, soft tender kiss, and the flying off into the sunset. Then you realize that you were just creating a version of him that you wanted, and that he probably wasn't thinking of you at all.

And then there was moments where your mind wanders off, and you begin to think of all the ways he could absolutely destroy you. Emotionally and physically, but mainly physically. You imagined the way he would pin you against the wall, cornering you in. Trailing his lips against your neck, biting and kissing that sensitive spot that made you go crazy. He would grab your hair, pulling your head back to face him. It wouldn't be harshly, but that he had full control of you. Spike would crash his lips against yours, desperately and passionately, like it was the last time he would ever kiss someone.

Moaning and whining for more, you would try to snake your wrists from his grip to touch him. But he would keep you pinned down, only torturing you more.

"I don't think you deserve to touch me, " he would tease, pulling back from you. "Unless I hear you beg for it. Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you."

After that, you would put a lid on it for the moment. You would feel the immediate need to drink some water, and an even greater need to take a cold shower. Its not that you didn't want these thoughts, its just you didn't want them to intrude on your mind when you were conversing with THAT person. Who was now trying to get your attention because you were spacing off. You were spacing off so bad, you hadn't realized that Jet actually did leave, and it was just you and Spike.

"Hey," he said, waving his head in front of you, "you okay?"

You nodded, hoping that it wasn't obvious that you were thinking of Spike fucking you six ways to Sunday. "Yeah I'm good! Why you ask?"

"You were just staring at me like I was a piece of meat." he replied, lighting another cigarette.

"Well, I don't even like meat, so." you smirked, taking a sip from your drink.

He raised his eyebrows. "From what I saw earlier at dinner, I know that is a fucking lie."

You giggled, twirling the small stirring straw in your cup. A little tipsy, and more confident than you usually were, right now was the perfect time to flirt.

"I do like a sausage every now and then, but, "you shrugged, looking anywhere other than Spike. That was a little too bold. You looked back at Spike, who was just smirking away.

"I think I'll that hang in the air for just a minute." he replied.

"I'm sorry, it was just there. I had to." you chuckled.

You noticed the faintest bit of blush on Spike's face. It could've been from the amounts of drinks he had, or the teasing earlier. You were pretty sure that it was from the drinks. Little comments like those definitely didn't influence that one bit. Or did it?

"How longer on you planning on staying here?" Spike asked.

"Until I'm ready to go to bed, and I'm wired." you responded, a little discouraged if Spike was implying that it was time that all parties were going home.

"No, I mean staying here on the planet. I'll be here until next week." he said.

"Oh my bad." you replied, your face burning slightly in embarassment. "I think the same as you, until next week. "

"Ah, okay." Spike mumbled. He looked at the tabletop, you both sitting in complete silence. What he said next made your heart jump into your throat.

"I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to do this next week? Dinner and drinks?" He asked, finishing his cigarette. "Right before we leave, I mean."

As much as you wanted giggle like a school girl, you played it cool. "Mr. Spiegel, it sure does sounds like you're asking me on a date."

Spike leaned his head on his hand. "And what if I am?"

"I'd say yes. I need a little fun every now and then." you stated, mirroring Spike.

You both sat there in silence for a little bit. You wanted to say something else, but the silence was doing just right for now. Talking to someone was nice, but just enjoying another person's presence? That felt just right.

"Question?" you asked.

"Answer." Spike replied.

"What do you do for fun, besides drinking and being cool?" you smiled.

Spike chuckled. He sat there, thinking. "If you would like, I can show you." he finally said.

"Show me. I'll follow you wherever you go." you said, taking that last shot.

"Alright, follow my lead then." Spike said, getting up. He held his hand out to you. You took it, jumping out of the booth. You staggered backwards, but Spike wrapped his arm around your shoulders to steady you

"Easy there." he grinned. You were a little too tipsy to care about Spike touching you, but it was gladly welcomed with open arms.

"Let me show you were the real fun is."

The real fun was in a small jazz bar, with a single man on stage playing the sultry notes of a saxophone. You were prepared for anything, but you thought it was going to be a little bit more exciting than this. But if this is what Spike likes, then you will definitely respect that.

He sat next you, his arm on his knee, leaning his head in his hand. He looked mellowed out, a blank expression. You were watching him out of the corner of your eye, seeing if his face would change. But it didn't. He kind of looked bored. Hoping you weren't making him bored, you cleared your throat. That got his attention.

"Hmm?" he asked, his eyes still fixated on the saxophone player.

"How often do you come here?" you asked him.

He sighed, leaning back. "Man, I want to say every time I'm on Mars. I've been going to this place since I was younger. Its almost like a safe haven for me. Where do you think I get my good taste in music from?"

You nodded, chuckling. "I get that."

"Besides drinking and enjoying some good music," you continued, "what else do you like to do? I already told you my hobbies earlier at dinner, so I guess its your turn to spill."

Spike leaned backwards, hands interlocked in the back of his head. "My hobbies." he thought. "I want to say make money, eat, and go to sleep."

You smiled. "No, I'm serious. What do you like to do for fun?"

"I'm serious too. Now that I think about it, I want to add on watching TV and practicing some punches, so I'm not too rusty." he replied.

"Who do you practice punches on? Not on anyone on the Bebop, I hope." you said.

"If I could, I would. Some of them really do know how to push my buttons." he muttered, sticking a cigarette in his mouth, but not lighting it.

"I'm not pushing any buttons by interrogating you, am I?" you asked, leaning closer.

"Of course not. I'm just answering some questions for a curious cat." Spike winked at you.

Your heart felt like it was going to pop out of your chest, this man was so fucking fine. You bit down your lip, tapping your leg. You hope it wasn't too noticeable that Spike's flirting was taking a HUGE toll on you. You couldn't go back on to your thoughts from earlier, you can't right now. If you did, boy you were in for a treat back at your ship.

The silence this time was a little different, like something was off. You were expecting the conversation to bounce back, but it didn't. As much as you wanted to initiate talking, you felt like you could be talking too much. Spike was quiet, and he hadn't really changed positions for a hot minute. You now knew that when Spike got like this, he was thinking. His face would be expressionless, tapping his leg lazily, and just staring whatever direction he felt was necessary. During dinner, while you and Jet were talking, he would get quiet and travel off into his own little space. Now that it was you and Spike, you felt like you were intruding on something.

You turned your focus back onto the music. Coursing their way into your ears, the deep notes felt like they were pulsing in your body. You still couldn't get over the air between you and Spike. It felt a little somber.

"Hey," you said softly, touching his arm, "is everything okay?"

Spike looked at you, his eyes turned down a little. He looked right back at him, waiting on a response. His eyes traveled from your eyes, down to your lips, and then to the rest of you. Was he checking you out? His lips formed a soft smile.

"Yeah, I'm okay, " he said, "but besides that, did I ever tell you how nice you look tonight?"

As flattered as you were, you were still concerned over Spike. "No, but thank you. Spike, seriously, you seem off. You were just fine and chatty earlier, but your vibe is definitely off."

"I don't think we've been hanging out that much for you to see that." Spike shot back.

"Yes, but I kind of got a knack for reading people." you replied, crossing your arms. You were a little taken aback by his sudden hostility, but you really didn't know what was going through Spike's mind.

"If I said something that offended you, I-" you began, but Spike put his hand up to you. He shook his head, folding his hands together on his chin, placing his elbows on the table.

Conflicted with pushing until he tells you and just shutting up, you sat there. You began to distract yourself with thoughts of getting another drink, what you were going to do when this "date" was over.

"Alright, (y/n)," Spike spoke, his voice smooth, "do you want to know what's really bugging me?"

You hesitated, anxious that you awoken something that would surely make this the last date. You nodded, turning to face Spike.

"The past." he murmured, scooting closer to you.

"The past? Why?" you asked quietly.

"Why the past? Let's see." Spike stared into your eyes, his gaze unwavering. You looked back, but averted your eyes when you felt like you were overstepping. You already were overstepping with asking if he was okay, but there was something about eye contact that made you uncomfortable.

"I've had a long, long past (y/n). I've made many stupid mistakes. And even though I know they are all in the past, they keep finding ways to ruin my present. I guess you can say I'm torturing myself with being here, since this was such a big place to hang when I was in-" Spike stopped abruptly, clamping his mouth shut.

You nodded. "You don't have to say anything else. I understand." You gave him a small smile, placing your hand on his shoulder. Fuck comfort, you thought. Maybe it was just a human thing, to reach out to others when they're in pain, forgetting boundaries and anything that could hold back support.

He looked at the placement of your hand, then back at your face. It seemed like eternity that you were both like this. He returned the smile, a silent thank you in the air.

"Now I know that we already kind of drank a lot earlier, but how does another round sound?" you grinned.

Spike's face lit up. "You read my mind, (y/n)."

You stumbled your way out of the bar, clinging onto Spike as he led you out onto the street. You were a giggling, drunk mess. You weren't rowdy or anything when you drank, but you sure were the comedian. Spike sobered up a little earlier, so he was a bit straighter than you were right now.

"I would say, Spike," you slurred, "you sure are a pretty man."

"Oh thank you. Now lets get you back home." Spike replied, just holding onto you while you tried to walk without falling over.

"No no, you're not listening. Like you are really, really gorgeous. So gorgeous, you could put Valentine to shame." you laughed.

Spike chuckled. "Okay, I'll take that."

"Say thank you."

"No."

"Why?"

"Cause."

"Why?"

Spike sighed. Now you were getting a little annoying, but he didn't want to get rid of you for the night just yet. Even if you were drunk and acting a fool, your company was something he needed for a long, long time.

"Its a pretty night, don't you think, Spike?" you said, pointing out to the stars.

Spike looked up, amusing you. "Sure."

"No, say that it looks pretty. Or else you'll hurt her feelings." you smirked, giggling.

"Whose feelings?" Spike asked genuinely, because you were definitely talking out of your ass.

"I honestly don't know. But I do know that I'm tired as shit." you mumbled.

Spike was tired too, but for some reason, he didn't want the night to end just yet. You haven't noticed this, but Spike was walking around buildings to see if you would follow him and not the way home. And your dumbass just did that. It was actually kind of funny, but it was a joke only for Spike. For a brief moment, you walked completely normal, and then the spiral started again.

"Look miss, if you keep harassing me, I'm going to have to call the police on you, and I really don't want to do that." Spike teased, only adding more fuel to the fire.

"Ahh, no, please don't do that." you replied sarcastically, putting your hands up. "I've been a good girl, I promise." You half smiled at Spike, and continued staggering to the port where your ships were.

Spike place his hands in his pockets, trying his best not to reply to that last bit from you. But maybe he could let a little something slip.

"From what I've seen, you've been a bad girl." Spike taunted. "A very, very bad girl."

You turned around slowly, raising your eyebrows. Now it was your turn.

"And what are you going to do about it?" you asked, sauntering over to Spike.

"Give a guess." he said softly, his voice low and husky from the cigarette he just finished.

You moved in closer slowly, finding your balance. You looked up at him, boldly running your hands up his chest. Spike flinched from your touch, but melted into it. You ran it all the way from his chest to his shoulders, and finally up to his face. Placing both hands on either side of Spike's cheeks, you brought his face down to yours gently. The smell of alcohol and smoke filled your nostrils, tingling your senses.

You tilted your head, chuckling softly at how you had Spike wrapped around your finger at this moment. Spike closed the space between you both, taking into account how your hands framed his face so kindly, like you both have been doing this for forever.

"Mr. Spiegel," you began, smiling, "you're not going to do a goddamn-"

A loud blast burst through the air, scaring you enough to become completely sober. Orange flames and clouds of smoke could be seen from behind the buildings. Alarms from the surrounding structures sounded off, people yelling and asking each other what the commotion was.

"What the fuck?" you yelled as you watched the flames grow at a steady pace. You shielded your eyes, coughing.

"Its from the port!" a person shouted. "There was an explosion at the port!"

You and Spike looked at each other. Without thinking, you both bolted towards the chaotic scene. Every step brought more anxiety, not only for your ship, but for the Bebop. People ran around, to and from the port. You covered your mouth from the sudden inhalation of smoke, coughing more and more. As you came to a clearing, you could see the tumultuous scene before you.

Your ship was burning, engulfed in a blaze of violently whipping flames. You shielded your face from the heat of your destroyed home, backing into Spike.

"(y/n), we have to get away from here!" Spike shouted over the screams of panic surrounding you both. He wrapped his arms around you and started pulling you away, your feet dragging.

You began to hyperventilate, unintentionally filling your lungs with smoke. Either from shock or the smoke, your vision blurred, and finally, slipping to black.

AN: Thank you all for sticking around. With these last two months, I've lost two jobs and gained one where I'm finally in a good place, financially and mentally, so that's good. I want to push out more fics for characters listed on here and my tumblr (same username as my Wattpad). Once again, thank you guys so much for enjoying this fic, and please, stay safe.

#cowboy bebop #see you space cowboy #spike spiegel #spike spiegel x reader #Faye Valentine #Jet Black #radical edward #ein #90s anime #toonami #Adult Swim

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wickedapollo · 4 years

Text

This is going to become a Saint-14 blog you watch. Everything is going to be become Saint. Everything. Oh my God, I love that man. I can't. I can't even.

Anyways, this is a Dawning gift for my friends [@lady-efriyeet @galexion @nyllius ]! It may come out before then, I have no idea currently, as I write this. I am very motivated for this one, unlike my promised Shiro oneshot... Oops. I'll get to that one in due time I swear.

Saint-14 x Hunter! Reader

Warnings : angst and [reads smudged writing on hand] flurf

The wind nips at your unarmed arms, snaking up your biceps and brushing against your throat. Your fingertips are numb with the chill, you flex them but it is all for not. They aren't frozen just cold. You sigh, closing your eyes and hanging your head.

You can't remember the last time you had a day off, it seems all you do is move about the system, killing things, saving people, and then you move on. Move on as though a leaf upon the wind who's only motive is to please such that hurries you. It is a sad existence, you think to yourself, that I am only something used to fight the battles that everyday people cannot. The mere idea that you are useless makes your heart sink in your chest. Perhaps if it sinks lower it may fall through you and hit the floor, shattering with all your prizes, all you hold dear.

Your eyes wander back to the silent bazaar. It is, after all, only two A.M. and most sane people are asleep. Your thoughts and insomnia keep you awake, brushing at the fingertips of sleep while your body falls more and more awakened. You hate nights like these, when sleep is scarce and there is no one to talk to.

If only your prayers could talk back.

You wrap your arms around your ribs as you straighten to look up at the traveler. The pristine machine god offers you no solution. No end to your sleepless night. Only the same silence as it has always treated you.

"Голубь?" It is a small, almost whisper-like voice. Scratchy and groggy from sleep. Like what you had once imagined dark chocolate would sound, not that you had imagined voices for the food you ate, that was preposterous, but it was a way to describe it. "What are you doing awake?"

"I can't sleep." You murmur, more to yourself than to him. You watch him rise groggily onto his metal forearms and squint into the darkness of your bedroom. His optics adjust in brightness, much like eyes adjusting to the dark. He sits there for less time than you expect before he pushes himself up and looks around slowly.

"It's twenty-five til three." He states, and for a moment he seems amazed by the time. Perhaps the fact that it is so late and you are still up? Who knows. He pulls the blankets off of his lap to stand, boards creaking under his feet as he does so. He easily towers over you, optics blinking as he adjusts to the lighting.

You can’t help but shrink further into the linen curtains. You know Saint means well, he always does, you don’t feel like being berated for not sleeping. Not that Saint would do that, but you know he’s going to ask questions. It’s his way of looking after you, you know. You appreciate it sometimes.

However, he doesn’t, instead he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. You would expect, like most metal things, Saint would be cold to the touch. He never is, and no matter how many times you’ve touched him, you are always surprised at how warm he really is. You hope all exos are this way, though you could never truly be sure, and are too afraid to test your new theory.

“Perhaps I can help?” He offers, in the soft tone that only he can have. It reverberates throughout his chest as his hands gently smooth over your back. Truthfully they don’t have to go far, Saint’s hands are huge. You barely have enough room for one, let alone both of them. You don’t complain though, only pressing your face into his chest with a nod.

You’re moving before you can truly process it. Being pulled towards the bed with little protest, in no hurry to leave your titan’s embrace. He seems in even less a hurry to let you go. Though that is Saint, always has been, always doting and encouraging.

Strong hands lift you up, and though he doesn't say it, what he wants is as clear to you as the night sky. You sluggishly wrap your legs around his waist and wrap your arms around his neck. He moves his hands under your thighs and sets his chin on your shoulder as he walks. There's something soothing about it, perhaps it is why babies are rocked to sleep.

His warmth is intoxicating, like sitting by an open fire and reading. Like being curled in a fuzzy blanket while the wind and rain howl outside the window, something so natural and peaceful that it may have lulled you to sleep right there- If you were not so keen on staying awake to avoid the nightmares. Though your eyes droop and your limbs are heavy, you force yourself to stay awake.

If you wait long enough, Saint will let you load up on caffeine and give you disappointing looks. You could handle that, you hope. It's just that you are so tired, it's almost criminal. It's to the point you feel like crying- for no reason- at anything.

Soon enough your ambition falters, you close your eyes. They were just so heavy, you argue to yourself, not even Atlas could have held them open.

Soon your arms relax around Saint, hands falling limply from his shoulders to hang lifelessly. Your fingers rest against the warm metal of his arms, twitching as he moves. It's only then you notice, somehow, he's humming.

You try to count his tune, as a last resort of staying awake. You lose it at six, arguing over what number you had missed to not get an eight count- and you pass out then and there. Slipping into the dark, like a warm blanket.

Saint, in all honesty, isn’t ready to put you down. He’s afraid you’ll wake up if he stops moving, it’s happened before. Though that was about a year ago, and he had unceremoniously tossed you on the bed, thinking nothing of the fact that you were human and very, very fragile.

He sighs, looking over at the clock on the bedside table. You really didn't use it, never had need for an alarm, that's what you had your Ghost for. But he used it periodically, like now, seeing that it read three a.m even. The titan finally lays you down, pulling the covers over your chilled body and up to your chin. When he's satisfied he kisses your forehead, metal lips lingering along your warm brow. You could be coming down with a cold, he thinks, one more thing to worry about…

You resituate to hug a pillow close to your chest, burying your face into it's softness. It makes Saint smile. You may be Saladin's Young Wolf, who fights with honor and Valor. A god killer. However, you are also his. His guardian, his love, and his inspiration. And he is soft for you.

The large titan moves to the window, glancing out into the empty street with contempt. There is a light on across the street, with shadows moving to and from in front of the window. He smiles, someone's wrapping presents for the Dawning still. He watches them move back and forth until the light goes out.

He leans back into the apartment and shuts the open window without question. It's late, he should sleep, too. He draws the curtains and pads back to his side of the bed. You've already stolen most of the blankets, but he can't find it in him to take them from you.

Instead he lays there, quiet as he listens to you breathe and snore softly. What a beautiful way to spend tonight, he thinks, when the room is warm.

However, now it is his turn not to find sleep. He tosses and turns for nearly twenty minutes. He sighs tiredly at the white ceiling. Perhaps if he counts the popcorn bits he can sleep. So he starts, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

No dice.

An arm snakes around his waist sleepily and you pull him close. You're nowhere near fully conscious, just awake enough to be a sleepy, cuddly mess. He turns his head to look at you in surprise as you nestle into his side and nose along his jugular vein, or coolant tube… either way.

"Did I wake you, Love?"

"Mmm?" You reply, eyes falling closed as you wrap a leg around his thigh. You still as you have found comfort in the position. Saint can't hide his smile, accepting the exchange and wrapping his arms around you. You're warm, and rightfully so, you're swaddled in blankets like a fluff tortilla.

His fingers sneak into your fluffy, messy hair. Carding through it and watching it fall back into place again and again. He lets out sigh, sounding more like a purr than an actual breath. His optics dim in the lighting, and he yawns.

"Sleep tight, Моя любовь."

#destiny hunter #destiny #destiny 2 #Saint-14 x Reader #saint 14 #Saint #Hunter #X reader #reader insert #happy dawning

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saxxxology · 4 years

Text

Keep it Cool (oneshot)

The air conditioning in the bunker goes out, and Sam’s choice of cool clothing is nothing but a distraction to you.

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Native American!Reader WARNINGS: smut and all the deliciousness that comes with it NOTE: This fic was originally co-written with @kittenofdoomage. It is also 18+ only. Do not save or repost my work without my consent.

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The air conditioning in the bunker sucked. Being underground, the place usually stayed colder, enough that in the winter you had to get the heater working, but for some reason, the summer heat had infected every single room. All you could do was put on deodorant, get the fans going, and stock up on ice water.

Dean was good at staying cool, proudly displaying his glorious bowlegs as he ambled around in just a pair of boxers and a tee shirt. Sam, on the other hand, had a much more interesting alternative to staying cool.

Walking around shirtless in just a ratty pair of gray sweatpants was his way of keeping the heat off, which did absolutely nothing to help your own temperature regulation.

You were in the kitchen, trying to fix yet another a fan you’d found in the basement and wearing nothing but a baggy tee shirt and cotton panties when Sam strolled in, those damn sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He was sweating like a pig, and you watched as he grabbed a bottle of ice water from the fridge and tilted his head back to down almost half of it in four long, deep gulps. He poured the rest over the back of his neck and shoulders, not caring as it splattered to the concrete floor.

“How in the hell can you exercise in this?” You asked, watching as the wind from the fan already on the table blew his hair back. “It’s almost ninety in here, Sam.”

“Gotta keep in shape,” he replied simply, “routine is everything.”

“Routine can go fuck itself when it’s this hot,” you returned. “You could get heatstroke.”

He shrugged and pulled the waistband of his sweats up, which did nothing as they simply sagged back down around the V in his hips. “I know my limits,” he said. “What are you up to?”

“Trying to fix this fan,” you muttered irritably, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his back flexed as he pulled a hairband from around his wrist and swept his long, coppery locks into a knot on top of his head. “Got all the dust out of it, now I just have to get it working.”

“Need help?” He ran a palm over the four-day stubble on his jaw. “I got time on my hands.”

You swallowed thickly and shook your head. The last thing you needed was Sam distracting you. “No thanks… it won’t take long.”

Sam offered a kind smile that was quickly betrayed by the twinkle in his eye. “‘Kay then. Call me if you need anything.”

An hour later and you still hadn’t got the damn thing to work. Sam wandered back into the kitchen as you—still not wearing any pants—called it names. He smirked at your indignation with the technology and leaned on the table once again, those powerful biceps now only a foot away from your face.

“You sure you don’t need help?”

The fan had you in a mood already, and Sam’s playful little smirk just rubbed you the wrong way. “Fuck you,” you mumbled, glaring at the failed project on the table.

Sam rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight, just enough that you could see the thick length of his dick hidden beneath the thin, gray fabric of his sweats. He was all sweaty and shiny and perfect; you could smell the musk seeping from every pore.

“Well, I said I’d help,” he replied and your back went straight. “You look like you could relax a little.”

It seemed like all of the oxygen went out of the room as you turned to him, taking in the lewd smirk on his face. He was looking at you with lidded eyes, giving them the impression of total blackness and a shiver ran down your spine, pooling into your core with an unbearable heat. He’d never been like this in all the years you’d known him; the sweet, soft-eyed Sam you knew was gone within seconds, replaced by a feral, lust-filled man that was this close to fucking you silly.

You inhaled sharply, trying not to let him get the better of you. Sure, a good, dirty fuck sounded incredible, especially with a man like Sam, but the two of you were supposed to be just friends...

He shifted and you swallowed, lifting you head when he stood straight. God, he managed to make the room look smaller when he stood his full height, all flexing muscles and tanned skin.

“When do you get time to sunbathe?” you blurted out, nerves forcing your brain into the wrong gear entirely.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head and pushing his hair out of his eyes. “That’s where you went with that?”

“Sorry.” Your cheeks burned out of pure shame as you stood up and walked to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “It’s just… you’re really tanned and it’s distracting.”

“Am I?” He looked down at his bare chest, purposefully rolling his shoulders to show off the wide, muscular expanse of his chest, and you moaned without restraint. Sam was smirking again when he looked up, eyeing you hungrily. “You’re really tense, Y/N,” he murmured, stepping a little bit closer.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Sam?” you asked, horrified at how girly and wispy your voice sounded.

Sam laughed, backing you against the table, only inches separating you. “Is it working?”

You shivered as the heat of his skin filled the space between your bodies. His scent was intoxicating, the sweet, honey-like perfume clouding every breath you took until you were literally breathing Sam in. You whined, almost stomping your foot at how infuriatingly seductive this God of a man was.

“Yeah,” you whimpered, “yeah, it is.”

His fingers grazed your cheek, and just like that you were gone. You stretched up, practically begging him to kiss you, and he obliged without hesitation. His lips were full and warm, and his stubble was delightfully scratchy. His hands promptly slid down your back to grab handfuls of your ass, and you gasped when he pulled you flush against him. The thick line of his cock pressed against your belly, held back only by the thin fabric of his sweats. His index fingers slid down between your thighs, pressing against the damp fabric covering your pussy.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed, “could just slide right up inside you, huh?” An indiscernible sound left your mouth. Grinning wickedly, Sam took your hand, guiding it to his cock, and you squeezed through the cloth, feeling him twitch in your fingertips. “Come here, baby girl.”

You gasped as he hauled you off the floor and slung you easily over his shoulder. Long strides carried you swiftly down the hallway, reaching his room in no time at all, and the second the door was locked he dumped you on the bed, crawling on top of you and watching your thighs press together in an effort to seek relief. He took advantage of your positioning to hood his fingers in your panties, pulling them down and tossing them off the edge of the bed. You eagerly stripped off your shirt, feeling cool air from the single fan on the nightstand wash over your sweat-dotted skin, and Sam growled at the sight of your pert nipples, practically begging to be sucked on.

“Sam, please,” you whimpered, reaching for him.

“Ah ah ah,” he teased, “not yet. I want you to see what I’ve been doing while I think about you.”

You moaned when he rolled to lie on his back beside you, slowly pushing his sweats down until his cock sprang free. He was huge, the tip almost reaching his navel, and if anything, your pussy only grew wetter thinking about what he’d look like stretching your walls out.

“Fuck,” you breathed, reaching out to try and touch him. Sam took your hand and guided it down between your own legs.

“If you need to touch something, touch yourself,” he directed with a dark smirk. “Hands off until I say so.”

You obeyed, watching him grip the base of his dick in one hand while massaging the shaft with the other, long up-and-down strokes causing the muscles in his forearm to flex deliciously. He let out a sharp huff and groaned, his lips parted as his back arched off the bed. “Shit,” he panted, turning his head to kiss you, “touch yourself, baby, show me how needy you are.”

Again, you obeyed, rolling your clit under your middle and index fingers as Sam stroked himself. A bread of clear precum dripped from his slit, falling in a thin, clear strand down to land on the smooth skin of his lower belly. He pumped himself harder, spreading his legs and bending his knees so he could thrust up into his grip.

“I bet your pussy’s better than this,” he muttered, chest heaving with exertion, “look at what you do to me, baby, you’re such a fuckin’ turn-on.”

You moaned louder, keeping your fingers working on your clit as Sam bucked his hips up. “Sam…”

“Lemme taste you,” he said breathlessly, reaching for your hand and pulling it from between your legs. He greedily sucked your fingers between his lips and sighed, sliding his tongue across the slick pads of your fingers, moaning at the taste. “God,” he gasped once he’d gotten as much as he could, “come here.”

Sam hauled you into his lap, arranging your legs on either side of his hips. His cock pressed at your entrance, and without even a consideration of birth control, you rolled your hips, letting the thick, warm head of him slide inside.

A gutteral shout left his lips, and you felt him throb excitedly as you sank down even more. Sam pressed his shaking fingers into your waist, holding you as you started to ride… or tried to. You’d never ridden anyone so long, so thick, and you found that it was more difficult to keep him inside you than you thought as your inner muscles clenched and pushed around him. He made it easier by holding his cock at your entrance as you adjusted, your arousal aiding you as you slid down even more until you could practically feel him in your belly, but even then, he was just so big.

“Thatta girl,” he urged, staring up at you. His bun had come partially undone, and strands of hair were stick to his forehead and neck, the combination of that with his scruff utterly mouthwatering. He craned his neck up, wrapping his lips around one pert little nipple, and you cried out as his teeth scraped the soft flesh of your breast.

“Sam, I can’t,” you shook your head, inhaling sharply when he throbbed again, “you’re too big, you need to—”

Your words choked off into a loud scream as Sam wrapped his arms around you, pulled you down until he was crushing you against his chest, and started thrusting madly into you. The thick, heavy heat of him repeatedly punching into your cunt was more than you could handle, and your next breath was ragged with pleasure. Sam held you tightly as you writhed against him, his own growls and grunts matching yours in volume and intensity.

“That’s it,” he snarled, “that’s it, baby, take it all.”

He rolled, pushing you onto your back and holding himself over you. The angle of his cock changed, and you felt him slam into your sweet spot. Tears bloomed in your eyes, and Sam only chuckled between breathy groans as you held onto him for dear life.

“S-Sam,” you stammered, “fuck, I can’t take it—”

“Yeah, you can.” He pressed a sloppy, scratchy kiss to the side of your neck and tugged your hair, exposing your throat for him to lick and suck at.

The next cry of his name turned into a rough sob, and when his teeth caught the soft skin under your chin, you almost lost control. Sam only thrust faster, pressing his knees into the mattress in order to shove his entire weight forward. Your bodies were coated with sweat, and as a rush of heat bloomed between your thighs, you realized that he was making you squirt. He felt the rush of liquid, the sudden, frantic spasming of your pussy, and his forearm came up, landing on the mattress over your shoulder and caging you in underneath him.

“God, that’s fuckin’ nice,” he panted, staring down at you as his bony hips continued to slap against yours, “always thought you’d be a cute squirter.”

You shuddered and arched up, your breasts and stomach rubbing against Sam’s hot, firm skin. Your nails dug into his arms, and you cried out again when he gave another sharp thrust, forcing more slick to gush from your wrecked pussy.

“Yeah, look at that,” Sam nibbled at your jaw and resumed his brutal, animalistic pace, not caring as you clawed at his back and clenched your thighs around his waist. “Such a needy little cunt.”

You whimpered when he reached up to grab the headboard, his cock now impossibly deep inside you as he used the heavy wood as leverage. “Sam, p-please—”

“Please what?” He growled into your ear and practically crushed you beneath him, using his entire body to hold you down while he fucked you. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

You choked on your next words as he shoved his cock in deep and held himself there. “I n-need to come…”

Sam smirked down at you, watching as your eyes rolled back in your head. He was so deep inside you he could feel your cervix against the tip of his cock. “Oh, baby, you don’t need to ask permission.”

He growled into your ear, the primal sound sending a bolt of arousal straight down to your core. His hips jerked as he steadily worked himself back to his rhythm, and you held onto his arms, your vision going white.

“Gonna come,” you gasped, “gonna come, Sam…”

Your mouth opened in a silent scream as your orgasm slammed into you, only made more intense by the second as Sam twisted his hips, grinding his body into yours so perfectly you felt like you were melting around him. You might as well have been; the room was already sweltering.

You were barely able to think straight as you came down from your climax. Sam was grunting like an animal, his hips bucking furiously as his cock swelled, throbbed, and poured into you. His cum dripped around the edges of his cock, sliding down the curve of your ass to pool underneath you.

No man you’d ever been with had come that much.

Finally, he fell away with a groan, his cock slipping from your folds. You felt the warm rush of his cum inside you and moaned at the feeling of it dripping out. Sam’s chest was heaving with exertion, and you heard him clear his throat.

“You okay?”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah… yeah, I’m good.”

“Good.” He swallowed. “So… that happened.”

You laughed at his sudden awkwardness. “It did. It was good.”

He looked at you. “It was?”

“You made me squirt,” you said, blushing. “I made a mess.”

“Uh, more like we made a mess,” Sam corrected you, rolling onto his side and looking down at the mess between your legs. “I’m gonna need new sheets.”

You giggled and ran your fingers over the scruff on his jaw. “And I’m gonna need an ice bath.”

Sam chuckled and trailed his lips over your jaw. “I might join you on that one.”

You were just about to deepen the kiss when a fist pounded on the door. In the minutes of your frantic coupling, you’d forgotten about the other inhabitant of the bunker.

“If you don’t mind,” Dean called grumpily, “you could keep it down next time!”

“Sorry!” You called back, grinning nevertheless as Sam slid an arm around your waist and pulled you close.

“You’re not sorry at all,” he teased, nuzzling your jaw with the tip of his perfect, pointy nose.

You shook your head and laughed as he kissed your neck. “Nope. Not one bit.”

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#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester reader insert #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic

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