#bashing my head in bashing my head in bashing my head in

[erinwantstowrite]

this is who Mysterio is beefing with. he's literally just a little guy (arachnid)

[punkshort]

Can You Remember Who You Were?

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: When you struggle to stop obsessing about the handsome stranger you met at a coffee shop who ghosted you after one date, fate eventually forces you back together.

Warnings: language, possessive behavior, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f!receiving), omegaverse dynamics, alcohol consumption, minor physical altercation

WC: 9.1K

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: For @burntheedges's Roll a Trope challenge I got reincarnation. I also mixed in some a/b/o stuff because I've always wanted to give it a try. Go easy on me, I'm nervous about this one - hope you enjoy. And thank you to @txtattoostark for holding my hand.

When you first met, it was happenstance. An awkward run-in at your favorite coffee shop where he thought your coffee was his until he read your name written on the cup aloud and had the grace to look bashful when he handed it over. A moment later, his own order was ready and you caught the name Dave scrawled on the side. He smiled and raised his cup to you before taking a sip and wishing you a good day before disappearing out onto the busy street.

It was a simple interaction. Nothing terribly special. But you couldn't stop thinking about him the rest of the day.

Dave, Dave, Dave.

Dave, with the soft, gentle brown eyes. Dave, with the chiseled, clean shaven jaw and strong, angular nose. Dave, with the broad shoulders that strained underneath his blue button-down shirt. Dave, with the bare ring finger that still had a visible, yet faded, tan line.

Something about him stuck with you. You felt drawn to him. Connected, somehow, yet you didn't even know him.

After the weekend passed, you managed to clear him from your mind, if only because you stayed as busy as possible. You cleaned your apartment top to bottom. You went to a concert for a band you didn't even like with your friends. You even called your parents and suffered through another phone call where you heard about your brother and sister's lives, how their respective children were, how your brother got a promotion and your sister was thinking of having a third baby. The unspoken question hung heavy in the air, your parents already knowing the answer and predicting your negative reaction by now, so it remained unsaid. But it still stung to be compared to your siblings in that way. Your parents had a skewed notion that maybe it would encourage you to try a little harder if they kept pointing out your brother's success and your sister's natural instinct for motherhood, but it only made you draw into yourself tighter.

Once it was Monday again, you dragged yourself to work. You were so tired from your overly busy weekend that you didn't even think about Dave when you entered the coffee shop. You stood in line, zoning out and in desperate need of caffeine when the door swung open and shut behind you and the sound of dress shoes tapping on the hardwood floors neared.

"Promise not to steal your coffee again."

You swiveled around, eyes wide and heart rattling in your chest when you fixed your gaze on none other than Dave. And much to your dismay, he looked even better than you remembered.

"Oh," you squeaked, subconsciously fixing your hair and glancing around to buy yourself a moment to recover. "Hi again. Two days in a row, what are the odds?" you chuckled dryly, hoping you didn't sound as stupid as you felt. Dave shoved his hands in his pockets and smiled down at you.

"Could've been four but I guess you don't come here on the weekends."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you struggled to respond. Dave took that to mean he caused you offense and quickly rectified it, not wanting to sound like a stalker.

"I'm just kidding."

You laughed and rubbed the scar on the back of your neck, your head spinning. Was he just kidding? Did he come here over the weekend? And if he did, was he hoping to run into you?

"I work around the corner," you explained, telling him the company you worked for. Your mother would have scolded you for telling a stranger where you worked, especially one who might have just admitted to coming to the coffee shop in the hopes of running into you, but you knew it was safe. You didn't know how you knew, you just knew.

Dave nodded and was about to speak when the barista ushered you forward so you could place your order. Before you had a chance to pull out your wallet, Dave leaned over you to tell the barista you were together and added his order before handing over his card.

You couldn't stop the shudder that went down your spine when you heard him speak so close to you, the vibrations of his voice sending a current of electricity through you. At this distance, you could practically smell him, too, and it wasn't just his cologne. It was something else that you couldn't identify but had you weak in the knees.

To be polite, you turned to deny his offer, but he spoke first. And when he did, telling you not to argue and he was happy to do it, his voice deepened and the timber alone caused your body to weaken and your eyes cast down obediently.

"Do you work around here, too?" you asked once you got your coffees and you thanked him for the third time.

"No, I don't."

He walked towards the door and held it open for you, a fourth thank you slipping from your lips. You got the feeling he liked hearing you so thankful and sweet. He smiled every time you said it.

"What brings you out this way, then? Do you live nearby? I don't think I've seen you here before."

Dave walked you to the corner where a shiny, black BMW sat parked.

"Let's just say there's something about the atmosphere I like at this place."

Your face flushed and you took a sip from your coffee, burning your tongue in the process, while you tried to think of something to say. Then you heard the bells from a nearby church and you were stricken with panic.

"Oh, shit! It's already eight?" you asked, yanking your phone out to check the time. You were already late and you still had a ten minute walk ahead of you.

"Come on, get in," Dave said, holding open the passenger side door. "I'll drop you off. You said it's just down the street?"

You contemplated his offer for about three seconds before nodding and jumping into his car. In only took him about two minutes to drop you off in front of your building but you couldn't stop thanking him the entire way, something that continued to delight him.

The rest of the week followed the same pattern. You showed up at your usual time and mysteriously, Dave would appear within a few minutes. He would insist on buying your coffee and on nice days, he would walk you to work. If it was rainy or windy, he would drive you.

By Friday he finally asked for your number and by Saturday you were getting ready for your first date.

Shannon was your age but she always seemed to be so much wiser and grounded. She had a very different view on life, but she was sweet and fun and you got along the moment you met. While you were used to going out to bars on a Friday night, Shannon preferred to stay in and read about horoscopes, take stock of her essential oils, do some light yoga, or scour eBay for rare crystals. You thought she was a hippie, she preferred spiritually inclined.

Regardless of your differences, she still was a wonderful person and was always there for you. Whether you were going through a bad breakup or upset about something your mom said, she would always be there to listen, rub your back, and kindly suggest a way to unblock your chakra.

You had a handful of other friends who would gladly come over and drink wine while you tried on outfits and help with your makeup, but that wasn't what you needed. You had something else entirely on your mind and you couldn't think of anyone else who might be able to help besides Shannon.

"I've been having dreams."

Shannon raised an eyebrow so far up, it got lost under her curly blonde bangs and thick rimmed glasses.

"What sort of dreams?"

You sighed and sat down on the edge of your bed, your dress partially zipped. "About Dave. And me. And it's just... strange."

Shannon shifted a bit on your mattress, her clunky jade bracelets knocking together in the process. "Go on."

"It feels like a reoccurring dream, but it's not exactly the same. The feeling is the same, though."

"I see," she said thoughtfully. "And what are you doing in these dreams?"

Your face warmed up and you stared at the floor when you said, "Well, we're having sex. But it's not just sex. It's different. Like," you waved your hands in the air as you struggled to come up with an explanation. "I know this will sound crazy, but it feels like in my dreams, we have more of a connection. Like, a purpose or something? And in my dreams it feels so much more intense compared to other guys I've slept with."

"How so?"

You had to give her credit. Shannon was too kind to ever tease you.

"Intense like... if we don't fuck, I'll go certifiably insane."

"Oh," she said, nodding her head, completely unphased. "Interesting. It kind of sounds like something I've read about once before. Have you ever heard of -"

Your doorbell buzzed and you leapt off the bed. "Oh, my god! Zip me up! He's here!"

When you flung your front door open, Dave spun around with a smile, one which widened when his eyes drifted appreciatively up and down your frame.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, feeling that magnetic pull low in your belly again just at the mere sight of him.

"You look beautiful," he told you, and just as he was about to lean in and kiss your cheek, he spotted Shannon emerge from your bedroom behind you with a little wave.

"Oh, this is my friend, she was helping me get ready," you said, turning to introduce them while you grabbed a leather jacket and your purse.

"Have a great time, I'll lock up when I leave."

You both thanked her before heading outside towards Dave's car. His arm naturally found its place protectively around your waist and you practically glowed from his touch.

Dave picked a restaurant that you'd never heard of and when you walked inside, you quickly figured out why. It was easily the fanciest place you had ever eaten and if it wasn't for his reassuring touch or warm smile, you would have felt out of place. But once you sat down, the rest of the room melted away and it was just the two of you in your own little world. The entire time you both were leaning across the table, bodies pulling closer and closer on their own accord as you absorbed every little detail about each other. You learned Dave used to be in the military and now works as an operative in the CIA, something that should have intimidated you but it just made him more attractive. He was a protector, he knew how to handle himself and he was smart, qualities which turned you on and had you yearning for more.

When he admitted to being recently divorced, the hairs on your arm stood up and jealousy bloomed hot in your chest. The sudden idea of him with another partner unlocked something inside you that screamed mine, mine, mine.

By all accounts, your first date was perfect. There was never any lack of topics for conversation, you always felt perfectly at ease and safe, and it went by way too fast even though you were the last table to leave the restaurant.

But when he dropped you off and walked you to your door, something changed from that point forward. He kissed you, gently and sweetly at first, but when your lips brushed together for the very first time it set something on fire inside you that you couldn't ignore. You had no idea how it happened, but the next thing you knew he was pinning you up against your door, your wrists captured in each of his massive hands and held next to your head while his tongue licked aggressively into your mouth.

Then you released a little whimper, a little cry against his mouth and it nearly brought him to his knees. The needy sound reverberated through his entire being and had him forgetting who he was, where he was, what planet he was on because that little sound had his body and mind responding in a way he couldn't explain.

And it frightened him.

He pulled away and put some distance between you, palm dragging over his wet mouth, eyes hungrily devouring your wrecked state. Still leaning against the door, you panted heavily and stared at him through heavy lidded eyes.

He scratched at something invisible behind his ear and took a deep, steadying breath.

"I should go."

You frowned, still trying to catch your breath. "W-what? Was it something -"

Dave quickly shook his head and stepped further away.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," he promised, then turned on his heel, practically running back to his car while you stood there, completely dumbfounded.

As it turned out, you did not hear from him the following day. Nor did you see him at your coffee spot the entire fucking week. By Tuesday, after sending a few pathetic texts that went unanswered, you forced yourself to accept reality.

Dave ghosted you and you would never see him again.

It was just one date. You only knew him for a week but it felt like so much more and you couldn't help but be torn up about it.

On Tuesday night, you called Shannon to tell her. You did your best not to cry but she could hear it in your voice.

"It felt like such a strong connection, you know?" you said sadly, plucking at a loose thread on your sweater.

"Well, what do you think happened?"

You shrugged and tossed yourself backwards onto your bed. "I don't know. The date went great, he dropped me off at the front door, we were kissing and things were getting heated and then all of the sudden, just -" you snapped your fingers. "He had to leave. Said he would talk to me the next day and I never heard from him again."

You heard her hum on the other end and clink a spoon in her mug. "Suppose my silly theory was wrong, then."

"What theory?"

"The dreams you were having and the feelings you were describing sounded like something I've read in one of my books, I wondered if it were real."

One of her books. You rolled your eyes, knowing she had a very strange collection of reference material spanning from meditation and Hinduism to books about Karma and the Kama Sutra.

Even so, you humored her and let her continue.

"Do you believe in past lives?" she asked. You hid your scoff behind your hand and cleared your throat.

"Uh, can't say that I do."

"That's okay, I know it's a bit out there, but it sounds very much like you might have a connection with this man that supersedes this earthly plane. And what I mean is, you may be destined to be together."

"Like, soulmates?" you asked dubiously.

"Mmm, not exactly. What I'm thinking is a little more physical. I have a book that talks about reincarnation and the ability to imprint on another person to the degree where the link follows you throughout all your lives. If it's at all possible, you will always find each other. Although it's usually pretty rare..."

"What do you mean, if it's possible?"

Shannon flipped through some pages of a book, humming under her breath before she said, "Well, if one of you comes back as a bear and the other a human, odds are it won't be a happy reunion."

You couldn't help it, you had to laugh. Shannon wasn't offended. She knew you didn't mean any disrespect and her beliefs were a little more difficult for others to understand.

"Okay, thank you. I needed a reality check," you said with a smile. "I hear what you're saying: we just met and there's zero reason for me to be acting this way."

"No, that's not at all what I mean," Shannon replied. "I haven't actually known anyone personally who went through something like this, but I've read about this phenomenon online."

"Alright, this is getting a little too weird, even for me," you said, sitting up in bed.

"Just Google it!" Shannon told you before you finished your call. "Read what others have said and see if you can relate."

You promised her you would give it a try the next day but you never got around to it. Instead, you went back to moping and staring at your ignored texts to Dave for the rest of the week.

By the time Friday came, you were ready to blow off some steam, refusing to spend another night wasting away over some man who just happened to be an insanely good kisser and whose scent you couldn't erase from your memory.

You agreed to go out with a small group of girls after work. The alcohol buzzing in your veins and the loud music in the bar helped you forget about Dave, but when other men approached you to dance, you just couldn't do it. You politely turned them down and stayed with your co-workers, Dave's rejection still leaving its mark on you. You listened to them complain about a team lead they couldn't stand who got a promotion she didn't deserve and then, as they began to drink a little more, discussed the finer qualities of the cute guy in the mail room.

In retrospect, leaving by yourself when you became too tired wasn't the best choice. You had a longer walk back to your bus stop than usual and it was eerily quiet out, but you wrapped your arms around yourself and kept your head down. And it almost worked, too, until you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Need a ride, pretty girl?"

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up and you kept pushing forward after tossing a no, thanks over your shoulder.

"Don't need to be rude," the voice replied, now much closer. You glanced around nervously and didn't see another soul on the street. Only parked cars.

You moved faster but it wasn't good enough. A hand clasped onto your shoulder, grip firm and frightening, and fear shot through you. You broke out into a cold sweat when he pushed you against a building, caging you in and leering down at you, his sour breath poisoned by alcohol. You recognized him as someone from the bar but before you had a chance to process anything else, two massive hands dug into his shoulders and yanked him away in the blink of an eye.

You shirked away when you heard a fist meeting soft tissue, then the clattering of teeth and a pained groan. Your savior's voice growled threateningly, warning the man to get the fuck out of here before I put you in the goddamn hospital, then you heard the squeaking of shoes against concrete and hurried, retreating footsteps down the street.

You were scared. He could sense it. He could fucking smell it. It made his skin crawl and his stomach turn.

Dave's voice was so deep and gravelly, you didn't even recognize him. Not until he crouched in front of you on the street, his dark eyes filled with worry as they scanned your face for any injury did you realize it was even him. Tears welled up in your eyes and he cupped your face. He looked like he was in extreme pain as he watched your tears begin to fall. He then stood, scooping you up so he could carry you to a nearby parked car.

"I'm going to take you home," he said when he placed you gently in the front seat. You had about fifteen seconds to gather your thoughts while he hurried around to the other side of his car.

"Why are you here, Dave?" you asked when he turned his key in the ignition. He paused momentarily before putting his seatbelt on and merging onto the empty street.

"Right place, right time," he muttered. He was gripping the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles turned white. You watched him closely from the passenger seat, not believing him for one second but for some inexplicable reason, it didn't frighten you. In fact, you liked it. The idea of Dave being nearby, possibly watching you, made you feel safe and protected, although you hardly knew him.

You took a deep breath, about to muster up the courage to ask him why he had ignored you all week when you were suddenly overwhelmed with his scent. You couldn't describe it but it was a smell uniquely tied to him. You made a little noise in the back of your throat and squirmed in your seat, desperately trying to stay focused and present, but your body had other plans.

Dave's eyes shifted to you, his nostrils flaring at the way your legs rubbed together and your breath picked up and then he smelled it: the first scent of your arousal in the air. That was all it took for him to forget who he was and succumb to his baser instincts.

His cock throbbed painfully hard in his jeans and his molars were practically ground to dust by the time he arrived at your apartment. You fumbled with the seatbelt, desperate to disappear inside and pretend this embarrassing interaction never happened, but you weren't fast enough. Dave had gotten out of the car so quickly that he was already yanking your door open and violently pulling the seatbelt away from your waist. You blinked up at him as if you were trying to clear your vision and jumped out of the car.

Something felt wrong.

You had an ache between your legs that was growing impossible to ignore and your brain was a hazy, swirly mess being so close to his scent. Did someone spike your drink at the bar?

"Thanks," you whispered, chest rising and falling faster as you tried to drag in more air. Your skin was far too sensitive. All you could think about was getting inside before you tore your clothes off in the middle of the parking lot. "I'll, um, see you around, I guess."

He nodded, his neck and cheeks tinted pink as he stared down at you hungrily. "Wait," he croaked when you made a move to leave, eyes burning red hot into you. "Can we - can I explain - fuck," he winced, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to block your scent from his nostrils so he could take a second to fucking think. He felt like he was going insane and he had no idea why.

"You wanna come inside and explain why you haven't talked to me in a week?" you asked bitterly, your arousal temporarily forgotten. "Why you've been ignoring me? Why you made me feel terrible? I was out tonight trying to forget you, Dave. I was hoping it would be the first night all week I didn't cry, but it's too late for that."

He swallowed thickly, eyes all wide and filled with despair as he gazed down at you. "I made you cry?" he asked softly. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him that he failed, that he did the one fucking thing he shouldn't have done.

You huffed and crossed your arms before looking away. "You hurt my feelings, Dave," you mumbled.

His heart lurched in his chest and he took a step forward to gently cup your face. Despite your anger, you gazed up at him with glassy eyes and almost immediately melted into his touch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so, so sorry. Will you let me explain?"

Reluctantly, you nodded and allowed him to trail after you to your front door.

You flicked the lights on in your kitchen and living room before turning around. Dave stood there looking too big in your average sized apartment, gaze drifting over your walls, your pictures, your plants, your life.

With a little distance, he could feel the clouds clearing and his senses returning, so he took a steadying breath before speaking.

"About last week," he began. You were in the middle of closing your curtains when you turned around to listen. "I didn't want to scare you, but something happened to me that night." You frowned, pulling the curtains closed the rest of the way and took a few steps towards him. Almost instantly he could smell you again, the wetness between your legs practically calling to him, and he quickly held up both hands so you would stop.

"You gotta stay over there," he warned. Hurt flickered over your face but you obeyed and stepped back until you were by the window again. After a moment, the air cleared enough so he could focus and he slowly dropped his hands back to his sides. He was so hard, it almost made him sick.

"I'm sorry," he said once again. "That's part of what I'm talking about. When you're close to me," he pursed his lips and dropped his chin to his chest while you patiently waited for him to continue. "When you're close to me, I can't fucking think straight. And I know it sounds dramatic," he chuckled, looking back up at you across the room. "I know it sounds like I'm making it up but I promise you, I'm not."

"I think I know what you mean," you said softly after a quiet moment. His eyebrows raised a bit, curious for you to elaborate. "It's like... your scent."

"Yes!" Dave exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "I don't understand it but you're giving off a scent and it's doing something to me. Something that frightens me."

You swallowed nervously and took a small step forward.

"Would you... hurt me?"

Dave's eyes went wide and he vigorously shook his head.

"No," he whispered, "never."

You took another step forward and his eyes flickered down to your feet.

"Then what would you do to me?"

His eyes slid shut and he crossed his arms over his chest. What wouldn't he do to you? He would bury his face between your legs until you screamed his name. He would stuff you full of his cock over and over, as many times as you could take it. He wanted to leave love bites all over your body so anyone looking at you would know you're his.

But that would be absurd. You just met and only had one date.

Without even needing to open his eyes, he knew you were closer. The thick smell of your slick filled the air, swirling around him, driving him to the brink of insanity until he was convinced the only cure would be to fuck you senseless.

"I feel it, too, Dave," you whispered, your hands coming up to pull lightly on his arms, unknotting them from their protective place over his chest. You nipped hesitantly at his neck, your lips puckering over his tanned skin, and he felt his resolve crumble.

"Fuck, what is this?" he breathed, his body pulling him forward. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His mouth pressed into your hair, deeply breathing in your scent, then he dragged his mouth lower. His tongue flicked out to taste your skin, the burst of flavor - you - making his head swim the closer he got to the back of your neck. Before he reached the scar you kept hidden by your hair, he pulled back, gasping for air.

"Come with me," you said with heavy lidded eyes and wet, parted lips. He nodded and followed you, logic and reason fading with each step. He had never felt like this before. It felt like he was being driven by pure instinct, like some kind of animal.

Dave swallowed when you pulled your shirt over your head as you walked, your bare back teasing him with what he could not yet see. Then you worked on your pants, unbuttoning and shimmying out of them as you approached your bed. His cock strained against the metal zipper of his jeans, begging to be touched, begging to be buried deep inside your soaked cunt. And it was soaked. He could see your dampness darkening the fabric of your underwear when you bent forward.

Finally, you turned to face him wearing nothing but your panties and a nervous smile. A low groan escaped from the back of his throat while his gaze drifted slowly down your body, taking in every soft curve and slope while he began to unbutton his shirt.

"You're perfect," he said lowly, shrugging off his shirt before his hands found his belt. "I want you so fucking bad, sweetheart, it hurts. I want to make you mine, make you scream my name til it's the only word you ever remember. I want to fill you up so you're feeling me for days. Want to give you everything you could ever need. Then I want to do it all over again."

Your knees felt weak as you felt another wave of arousal spread through your stomach and between your legs. Shakily, you crawled onto the bed as Dave approached like a predator from the doorway, shedding his clothes and pinning you with an intense stare that, if it were anyone else, would make you nervous.

"You want all that?" he asked you. You were nodding but you couldn't tear your eyes away from the bulge straining in his boxers now that he stepped out of his pants. "Say it," he commanded, and something about his tone made your eyes snap up to his and your spine immediately straighten.

"Yes. I want it. I want you," you replied, then reached your arms out for him to join you. A pleased look passed across his face at your invitation as he kneeled on the bed with you, towering over you with his broad frame, making you feel so small.

He leaned forward with his hands brushing lightly over your shoulders and his lips parted as he admired you openly. Then he murmured, "Lay down and spread your legs," and you felt your stomach flip as you did what you were told.

Dave palmed himself through his boxers when his eyes locked onto the wet spot spreading in your underwear. His long fingers hooked around the fabric and pulled them down, slowly exposing yourself to him. You watched, squirming impatiently, as his eyes turned from brown to almost black when he took a deep breath and spread your legs wide into the bedding.

"I need you," you whimpered. Your skin felt like it was on fire and you were so aroused it almost fucking hurt but you were certain Dave would be able to fix it. You didn't know why or how, but you just knew.

"I know, baby," he said, shifting down so he laid between your legs, his angular nose nudging against your folds and his hot breath fanning over your leaking cunt. You shivered and whined but his big hands held you in place.

"I'm gonna take good care of you, don't worry," was the last thing he said before he placed a sweet kiss on your mound. Then he kissed you again except that time, his tongue flicked out, catching your clit, and the noise that came from your mouth was borderline embarrassing.

"God, you're so wet," he whispered in awe inbetween plunging his tongue in and out of your opening, reveling in the taste of your pussy. The way your scent had engulfed him made him feel insane and the only thing he wanted to do was pull more sweet noises from your lips.

There was no explaining that night. At least, not rationally. The two of you fell into something neither of you experienced before but somehow was all too familiar. You found yourself being far more submissive than you ever were with anybody else, like your body had taken over and knew just what to do. Anything Dave asked of you, you did it, trusting him implicitly.

It was a combination of your sobs and whimpers that drove him forward like an animal, unable to stop eating at your cunt until you came twice from his tongue. You finally had to tug on his hair to pull him away, your skin coated in a thin layer of sweat and chest heaving beneath him.

"Could smell you all fucking night," he admitted hoarsely, wiping his palm over his slick covered mouth. "Drove me crazy, couldn't stop thinking about it. Christ, I- I've never needed someone this badly, baby," he told you as he pushed his boxers off and gripped the base of his cock in his fist. "'M sorry, can't explain it-"

"I know," you croaked before hauling yourself up from the mattress. You moved towards him on your knees, legs still wobbly but you managed to hold yourself up. "I feel it, too. I don't want to leave this bed for a week," you murmured before pressing your lips against his and groaning at the taste of you on his mouth. Again, all you could think was mine, mine, mine. You were consumed by the thought, overwhelmed by the idea of Dave smelling like you so everybody would know he was yours.

Your tongue dove into his mouth greedily, a sentiment he easily returned. You dragged your fingers through his hair, down his neck, over his broad shoulders and down his soft stomach until you found his cock standing at attention between you.

"I- shit," Dave moaned when your lips nipped and sucked down his jaw until you found a tender spot behind his ear you seemed to like while your fist slowly pumped him up and down. "I don't have a condom, I didn't think... do you have any?"

You did, but you paused and thought about it. Even though you were on birth control, you still always used a condom, just to be extra safe. But the idea of having a barrier between you and Dave just felt wrong. You wanted to feel him bare, you needed it. So, you decided on a non-answer.

"I'm on birth control," you whispered, and Dave seemed just as relieved as you at the prospect of taking you raw. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the way you continued to suck and bite at the spot behind his ear while stroking his cock. He wanted to tell you there was a scar there, one he couldn't remember getting, but he was struggling to form a coherent thought.

When your teeth grazed his skin too harshly, he growled and bared his teeth like a goddamn animal, but not because it hurt. Because it felt good.

"Think you can take it, baby?" he rasped, fingers pressing into the softness of your hips.

"Mhmm," you hummed, finally tearing yourself away from his neck, proudly leaving a little red mark of your own before letting go of his cock and twisting around to fall onto all fours.

Dave moaned at the sight of you presenting yourself to him on a silver fucking platter before crawling forward.

He took hold of himself, all heavy and leaking, so he could notch at your entrance. He hummed a little, enjoying the way your warmth spread over his engorged tip, using it to spread your slick around to make it easier to first enter you.

Impatiently, you wiggled a little and tried to spear yourself on him, but he chuckled and grabbed your waist, making you still.

"Want it that bad?" he taunted, voice dropping low, the lust in his veins pumping hard and fast through every inch of his body.

"Yes," you whined, tilting your head back as if you were in pain. "Yes. Please, Dave, don't tease me."

And how could he deny you? He simply wasn't strong enough, his need for you so hot that it burned through his resolve in a matter of seconds.

His eyelids fluttered when his tip slipped past your folds, jaw dropped when he first pressed a few inches inside, face twisting and breath growing ragged when his hips finally came flush with your ass.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, blinking away the tears that suddenly burned his eyes. Shaky hands found your hips and he braced himself, taking a few deep breaths while he waited for your walls to relax and your whimpering to quiet down.

Dave swallowed and looked down, nearly coming apart right then and there at the sight.

"God, baby, you oughta see the way you stretch for me," he breathed, still staring down where you were connected. "That feel good? Hm? Talk to me," he pleaded before drawing back an inch just to watch more of your arousal get pushed out when he slid back inside.

"Yes," you hissed, "I'm so hot, Dave, it feels like I'm on fucking fire, please fucking move."

"Are you sure?" he asked, but his hips had already begun to rock into you without his permission. You nodded and let your eyes fall closed so you could focus on the way each one of his thrusts and grunts soothed the flames roaring inside you.

"Harder," you whispered, not even sure he heard it, but then a moment later his grip around you tightened and his hips snapped faster, the sounds of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room and making you dizzy.

You heard him whispering something to himself but you couldn't make it out. You craned your neck back, bleary eyes trying to find his but every forceful thrust of his hips jolted your entire body and sent you halfway up the bed just to have his massive hands drag you back down.

"Fuck it," he murmured before grabbing you by the shoulders and yanking you up so your back was pressed to his chest. You gasped in surprise and cried out at his relentless pace, never once missing a beat. One of your hands reached around to grab the hair on the back of his head, pulling him close so his mouth was directly next to your ear.

"So - fucking - tight. Want you so - fucking - bad," he whispered through clenched teeth. Both his arms circled around your middle in order to keep you steady, sweaty skin sticking to sweaty skin. You twisted your neck, seeking out his mouth so you could swallow down those words and have them echo like the beat of a drum inside you.

Your lips crashed together, messily licking and biting at one another while he grunted and growled, hammering into you with everything he had. The tip of his cock reached a spot deep within you that forced all the air from your lungs just to be followed by a sharp gasp. It was making you lightheaded, the persistent pattern - grunt, thrust, gasp, grunt, thrust, gasp - and then his hand traveled lower.

"Oh!" you cried out, your fingers slipping through the thick hair on the back of his head and body slumping a bit but he kept a firm hold around your ribs, still pressing you against his front while his fingers rubbed fast, precise circles over your clit.

Your thighs began to shake and your hips sunk lower, unable to keep yourself from giving into the pleasure mounting low in your belly. Your muscles fucking burned from the effort to stay upright, even with his help it was becoming impossible to do.

"Dave," you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut as your head came to rest on his shoulder. It was all you could remember to say, Dave, Dave, Dave. Just like he said. And it was perfect because that was all he wanted to hear.

"You're close," he murmured, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, fingers working expertly over your clit and hips still snapping tirelessly against your ass. You just nodded, slack jawed, as you focused on your release. So close. So fucking close, you wanted to say, but no words came out.

"Give it to me," he growled, voice sounding like a command. Your eyes flew open and a moment later, you came. You bore down on him, pussy clenching around his thick shaft still slamming inside you, in and out, in and out, while you wailed his name over and over until you grew weak and your muscles threatened to give out.

Dave made a pleased sound before pushing you forward onto the bed. You fell onto your forearms with a huff, still in a rosy haze from your orgasm. One hand gripped your hip, the other your shoulder, and he used you. He fucking used you to get himself off, slamming into you as hard as he liked, chasing his release, puffing and growling above you until he finally stilled and you felt his spend slowly fill you up.

"Fuck!" Dave groaned, gaze pinned to the way he spilled out of you when he pulled out. "Fucking beautiful, baby," he whispered hoarsely, still panting for breath as he continued to watch. You whined and your hips began to drop, so he collapsed next to you and tugged you against him, spooning you with his face pressed into your shoulder and his hands soothingly stroking any part of you he could reach.

"I'll... I'll get you something in a minute," he muttered, chest still heaving as he held you close. You just shook your head and closed your eyes.

"It's okay," you whispered softly.

There was so much you wanted to say, but fear held you back. You wanted to tell him how incredible it was, how you never came that hard before in your life, how amazing you felt now that he finally gave you what you needed.

Once his breathing evened out, he began to nose gently at your back. He trailed up through your hair, pushing it aside until his tongue found the skin on the back of your neck. It felt so good, melting in his arms and sharing in a warm glow while he bit and licked at the back of your neck. It didn't even strike you as an odd thing to do, the pair of you were too deep to recognize it.

With a sigh, you lifted his left hand from your stomach and examined his long fingers, your own slowly tracing his as he continued to mindlessly suck at your neck.

"What's the story here?" you asked bravely, tapping twice on the tan line of his ring finger. "You never really said much."

He grunted into your skin and forced himself to unlatch from your neck.

"Was married," he said simply. "Didn't work out."

You hummed and laced your fingers with his while he watched from over your shoulder. His cock twitched alive against your thigh when you wiggled in his grasp.

"Why?"

He shrugged, lips dragging over your shoulder. If someone had asked him that six months ago, he would have had a much more emotional reaction. Anger mixed with pain, most likely. But you had somehow managed to dwindle it down to a light shrug.

"Don't think it was just one thing," he admitted.

You nodded solemnly, thumb brushing lightly over his knuckles.

"Does it still hurt to talk about?" you asked him. You wished you knew more but you feared you might burst the perfect little bubble you had found yourselves in.

Dave smiled and, with his free hand, lifted your leg so your ankle rested on the outside of his knee.

"Not anymore," he said right before sinking back inside you.

It was the dreams that finally made you both snap out of the lust filled stupor you were lost in.

Dave had spent the night and entire next day with you, only giving yourselves enough time to eat and rest in between the countless times you found yourself impaled on his cock. It was sometime in the mid afternoon when you had fallen asleep on his chest that you awoke with a start, unable to shaky an eerie feeling.

"Dave?"

His eyes snapped open and found yours, looking slightly rattled, himself.

You breathed a sigh of relief and nuzzled into his bare chest. "I had such a weird dream."

"Me, too," he said, voice thick with sleep. He swiped a palm over his face before stretching both arms above his head. "What was yours about?"

You went on to tell him about the very vivid dream you had about him, although the man in your dreams didn't look like Dave nor did he have the same name, you just somehow knew it was him. With your face heating up, you glazed over the part where you fucked like animals in heat for a week straight and all together left out the end where you had a full blown family together, figuring it would be a bit too much and it would most definitely scare him off. But much to your surprise, he detailed a dream of his own that was so similar, it gave you goosebumps.

"Maybe we need to get out of this apartment for five fucking minutes," you joked, yet still couldn't shake the lingering feeling of familiarity.

After a few moments where you both remained quiet and lost in thought, Dave spoke again.

"There was something else."

You tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"I think we had... a family."

Dave closed his eyes as if he too felt like saying it would be too much too fast, but you shot up excitedly in bed.

"We had kids in my dream, too," you confessed, and the both of you stared at one another in shock. "And this isn't the first time, either," you added. Embarrassment was the furthest thing from your mind now as the words came tumbling from your lips. "I had them before we even had our first date."

Dave's eyes went wide and he sat up, as well.

"Shit," he muttered, "me, too. Thought I was crazy."

"Maybe we are," you huffed, still in complete disbelief. Then you remembered what Shannon had said when you poured your heart out to her and your brow furrowed before digging in the sheets for your phone.

"What is it?" he asked as he watched you.

"My friend, the one you met the night we had our date," you said as you busily focused on your phone. "She knows a little about this stuff. She's a little strange but -"

"Let's go talk to her," he said before you even had to ask. You sent your text and looked around your room.

Could you really have known one another in a past life?

You weren't sure how you got there, but in just a few short days you found yourselves standing outside the old Victorian house of Talia Carter, a friend of Shannon's whom she recommended the minute she read your text about your shared dreams.

Talia, or 'Duchess' as she preferred to be called, claimed to be clairvoyant and promised she would be able to do readings on you both to find out if your hunch was right or if you were both just certifiably insane.

Despite all the evidence, you still had your doubts as you climbed the old wooden steps of her porch. Talia swung the door open, her bright red lipstick laid on thick and stretched into a wide smile framed by her very long, straight dark hair. But her smile faded almost instantly once she saw you and she gripped the doorframe for support, alarming you both. She quickly shook her head and refocused her gaze on you both before apologizing and ushering you inside.

You hesitated for a moment and glanced up at Dave.

"My friend Shannon called, I'm -"

"I know, sweetheart," she said as if it were clear as day. "I know exactly who you are."

Dave's hand fell to your lower back and he peered inside her house before determining she wasn't some kind of obvious psycho before nodding to you and taking your hand. Talia bit back a smile and she stepped aside, holding the door open wide for you both.

"If you would like to follow me, I have a study where I do my readings just off the kitchen. Can I get you anything to drink?" she asked over her shoulder, leading you past a dark cherry wooden dining room table and matching China cabinet, as well as countless green plants stuck on every flat surface.

"No, thank you," you said, gaze roaming around the room, temporarily stunned by the very unique Elizabethan style she chose. It seemed as though she liked her wallpaper dark and oriental rugs mismatched. The woodwork appeared to be all original, or at least it was made to look that way, and it was all meticulously cared for.

"I prefer to model my home after my own past life," she said when she caught you gawking at the beautiful wainscotting and then the glittery chandelier above her desk.

The two of you sunk down into a soft velvet sofa across from her.

"You remember your past life?" Dave asked, his hand falling to your knee, body curling protectively around you when he crossed a leg and leaned forward. Talia noticed but she didn't say a word. Not yet.

"Yes. I believe Shannon mentioned I preferred to go by Duchess," she explained as she pulled out some tarot cards as well as a few books from the built in bookshelf behind her. "I was the Duchess of Argyll and I still very much connect with that lifestyle, so I have tried to recreate it in my home."

"Well, you've done a beautiful job," you told her honestly. She paused and gave you a sweet smile before opening one of her books and flipping through the pages.

"You are very kind, thank you," she said, "but we are not here to talk about my past life. We are here to talk about yours."

You bit your lip and leaned closer to Dave. Without even looking up, she asked, "Hundreds of years ago, the human race was suffering and on the brink of going extinct. It's believed Mother Nature took over and created ranks among human beings in order to boost the population. Have you ever heard of Alphas and Omegas?"

You both frowned and shook your heads. When she found the page she wanted, she lit up and turned it around, pushing it across the desk so you could see.

"I could do a reading on you both, but it's simply not necessary," she said. You were about to lean forward to look at the page when you froze.

"Why?"

She grinned and sat back in her chair, looking at the two of you like she couldn't believe her eyes.

"I sensed it the moment I saw you. You were mates in a prior life," she replied. She pointed to Dave's hand on your knee. "You're very protective of her, yes?"

Dave shrugged and scooted closer to the edge of the sofa. "That isn't unusual."

"No, you're right," she said, then leaned forward to rest her elbows on her desk, lacing her fingers together. "But tell me, do you have any noticeable scars? Maybe ones you have trouble remembering how they came to be?"

Your hand immediately came up to rub the back of your neck and Dave noticed. Visions of him licking and biting in that very same spot swam in your memories and you glanced up at him once again, watching as he came to the same realization.

"How did you get that?" he asked you softly. Your eyes darted wildly back and forth between his before answering.

"My mom and dad always told me different stories, I'm not - I was never really sure."

Then you recalled how fixated you were on the spot behind his ear the first time you had sex and you lunged forward, brushing his hair out of the way with a gasp.

"Where did -"

"I don't know," he said immediately, the energy in the room shifting as you both stumbled into something inexplicable. "I grew up in an orphanage. No one was ever able to tell me."

Your eyes watered for a moment at the thought of a young Dave growing up scared and all alone, but you forced yourself to put it out of your mind for now. You turned back to Talia, who was watching you both with an unreadable expression.

You told her everything. You told her about your dreams, the extraordinary pull between you, the intensity and passion when you had sex, the hopelessness you felt when you thought he rejected you. And most importantly, the calm and secure feeling whenever he was near.

She gave the book a little nudge and you took it on your lap so the two of you could read, but you were hardly absorbing any of it. The words knot, glands, scent marking, heat, imprinting floated across the page while she spoke, explaining everything she knew. And as crazy as it all sounded, neither of you could deny the signs.

You stayed for over an hour, asking question after question. She explained how your scars were most likely remnants of the scent glands that each of you pierced, which bonded you forever as mates. How the dreams that you both had were memories of your past life and the unbreakable bond you shared was what drew you together. When you mentioned the way your body felt like it was on fire, skin hot to the touch, she explained in more detail about heats and ruts and how it was your body's response to finding one another.

When you finally stood to leave, exhausted and unable to think of another question, she refused to take Dave's money. When he tried to insist, she held up her hands and shook her head firmly.

"You have no idea how rare this is for someone like me. Meeting the two of you is an experience I will never forget."

She even let you take home the book you had still open on your lap, your minds racing as you tried to keep up with the whirlwind of information thrown at you.

When she walked you to the door, the sun dipping low in the sky already, she placed a hand on each one of your shoulders and looked at you both intently.

"Promise me you will not squander this gift," she said. "You have no idea how unusual it is for mates to find one another again. The odds are astronomical and yet here you are, reunited by a twist of fate."

You had no idea what to say. You looked up at Dave sheepishly and he smiled warmly at you before saying, "We promise."

Once back in his car, silence surrounding you even though your minds were buzzing with activity, he reached for your hand.

"Do you believe her?" he asked. You bit the inside of your cheek and stared straight ahead down her long driveway before slowly nodding and turning to face him.

"I think I do."

A big grin stretched across his face and he brought the back of your hand up to his lips. "I think I do, too."

You giggled and ran your fingers through your hair, a rush of adrenaline burning through your veins.

"Now what?" you asked him, letting him drop your hand so he could shift his car into drive.

But before he pressed on the gas, he gave you one final look and said, "I don't know, but whatever it is, we'll do it together."

[in-som-niyah]

ok i’ve been having this thought for a while… since jason is so attentive what are some things he would do that makes reader’s life easier??? like i see him as such an acts of service man like if all else fails he will make sure you’re never out of your fav tea or something idk im sorry if this doesn’t make sense 😭😭

"I Do, I Do, I Do"

A/N: digging myself out of a depressive episode with this one + this is my first fic after my long ass hiatus so pls be nice to me im trying

Attentive!Jason Todd will pay so much attention to you you would think he has a camera on you 24/7 and watching your every move.

Jason would remember the big things, like anniversaries and birthdays, but also days of the year when he knows you need the most support from him. If a parent/guardian/loved one died on a specific day/time of year he's attuned to your emotional needs and keeps up with your physical ones (like food and sleep) so you can focus on being ok again. (i am NOT projecting chat)

Jason would also remember the little things, like your favourite tiny spoon, the way you prefer spearmint to wintermint in gum and toothpaste, the way you compulsively brush your hair to the side when your bangs get too long, when it's time for you to leave a social situation. He's just always looking at you and around you to make sure you're happy and smiling when you wave back at him form across the room.

If you have health problems, Jason would never in his life let you run out of meds or whatever you need to combat your illness. The massage gun is always charged, heating pad always available, hot water bottles on standby, compression socks/arm bands at your disposal, everything. He doesn't wait for it to get bad either, he's picked up on your cues so well that he can almost predict a disaster before you do.

Speaking of prediction, he also knows that if you're not off work and in the apartment by a certain time, to start the laundry, dishes and order in/cook a quick dinner because he knows you'll come home a tense ball of stress and worry.

Jason who almost exclusively wears a specific type of softer fabric when you're around him because he loves it when you bury your face in his chest and rest your head on his bicep.

(For the short girlies) Jason who puts rubber corner protectors on the corners of your countertops and tables because you always bash your hips into them when you aren't paying attention.

Jason who does the laundry before you wake up in the morning and folds your clothes exactly the way you do because he knows you're particular about it & doesnt want you to stress about it in the morning.

Jason who puts gas in your car and repairs it himself or sends it to the bats to fix when he can't (he would never admit it though).

Jason who notices your favourite brands of food and makes sure they're always stocked (you're convinced it's witchcraft the way things don't run out)

Jason who just loves you. That's it. That's all. Just love. In any and all ways he can. All the time. In all conditions. In all situations. Patient. Loving. Kind.

[sonotpattismith]

YOURE WRITING IS LIT AMAZING OMG- I had an idea: Sukuna switching in and telling u yuji likes you (romanticly and sexually) and eventually switching back and the aftermath…. 🙏🙏🙏

Forgive Me for Whatever I Do (Yuji Itadori x Reader)

word count: 4.9k warnings: a teeny bit dark, angst, suggestive content, 18+ a/n: y'all, I think I kind of altered what the original vibe was meant to be for this request, but I am apparently physically incapable of not making a fic angsty, I'm SORRY. Also, this was a bit inspired by Remember You by Dominurmom, link if you wanna listen cause it makes me cry. I hope you all enjoy and please remember my requests are always open! 🥹🫶🏻

Friends. It was a good word-- a safe word. It was one you had found solace in hiding behind for years. How could you dare risk the beautiful ebb and flow you had found within the days of while you’d experienced with your best friend? No matter the pools of warmth that engulfed your chest with each glittery-eyed smile-- no matter how the both of you had always found your way back to each other whether rain or sunshine-- no matter how much you loved Yuji Itadori. Friends; it was a safe space. 

There was a time when you wanted something more. It was so early on, before you were too scared to lose him yet. When you two had first met, you felt undeniably pulled toward the bright-eyed and charismatic boy. Both of your lives had been overwhelmingly and newly hectic, what with your being thrust into a life of curses and sacrifice. Similarly, Yuji was still coping with the abrupt weight of managing the demon he now shared a body with. It was never the right time. 

So, your timid glances and blushing compliments soon turned into confiding conversations and fierce loyalty. You two fell into the gentle and safe rhythm of a blossoming friendship. Of course, deep down within the confines of your cowardly hearts, you were always drawn to one another. There was always a hope, never communicated, that maybe once your lives found a peaceful medium, you two would no longer need to hide behind the solace of friends.

This certainly wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. 

Yuji had always made it appoint to keep you and Sukuna at opposite ends of his world, in all senses of the phrase. He barely spoke of him to you at all, in fact. It was actually something you argued often with him about, worried about the impacts of keeping that kind of burden locked away would have on him. In typical Itadori fashion though, he wouldn’t even entertain the notion of an argument with you. No, he’d just squint his honey-brown eyes, and flash that bashful smile to you, a half-assed excuse about why it wasn’t that big of a deal falling easily from his lips. 

The truth was though, it was a big deal to him-- a massive one, in fact. After having already witnessed what that counterpart of his could do, the havok it could ensue on those important to him-- nothing scared him more than the prospect of you coming face to face with Sukuna. Yuji felt this fear so much so that he spared you the details. He didn’t want you to think of him in such a way, to know that any part of him was capable of such atrocities. Yes, he’d bear it all if it meant none of it touched you. 

So, when he felt his own body deteriorating rapidly in tandem with the whaling blows of cursed energy courtesy of the special grade the two of you had been cornered by, the thought flickered in the back of his head. Heaving out a pained groan, Yuji’s gaze found yours, and he pushed it back down. But you screamed. You screamed, and he couldn’t help you-- he couldn’t move. You screamed, and he was trapped beneath the concrete pillar that had fallen so unceremoniously over his heaving chest. You screamed, and suddenly, it was his only option. 

“Sukuna!”

The King of Curses was not one for favors, especially not for the brat that held him hostage in what was meant to be his vessel. He assessed the situation before him-- the one he’d been watching intently from the safety of his own shrine. Through his insolent vessel’s eyes, he could only see you. It was all the brat would look at, you were all he ever looked at. Whether it be the back of your head, hair swaying gently as you’d turn to smile at him, and Sukuna would always feel the boy’s heart clench fouly at the sight. On some occasions, you’d be looking right at him, your eyes with stars behind them, and the demon wanted nothing more than to rip them right from their sockets simply for the way his vessel would tremble under your gaze.

Pathetic. 

Maybe if the brat had been looking toward something else for once, they wouldn’t have been in this predicament. But he was racing toward you at every chance he got, taking blows that were meant for you, countering attacks that you had antagonized. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so weak.

So, he laughed. In the back of Itadori’s frenzied mind, Sukuna cackled at him. The boy whispered a plea, tears stinging his eyes as he watched you stumble to your feet in a grave attempt to escape the repeated blows being landed on you. 

“Anything, I’ll do anything, please!”

The demon liked the sound of that. Yuji could feel the control slipping away from him, his consciousness being sucked up by the all consuming darkness lurking within. For just a moment, he fought against it, staring up at you in an almost drunken haze. 

“I’m sorry. Please,” He called out to you, voice hoarse and morphing into one you didn’t recognize. “Just look away.”

In mere seconds, the boy you loved was shifting before your eyes. His features were sharpening; sinister, black marks pooling onto his skin like ink. The second set of eyes below his own snapped open, and they were looking right at you. Maybe, Sukuna thought, if he saw it for himself he’d understand, without the barrier of this boy’s soul in the way. Still, as he stared into your fearful eyes, he felt nothing but indifference-- no-- disgust. 

Jagged chunks of concrete rubble sliced through the air around you, knocking into your already weak body, some even slicing through the special grade in front of you. Blinking back the dust that invaded your sight, when your eyes opened again, the curse was desecrated; an explosion of grotesque, purple evidence of what it once was. 

Sukuna didn’t care to save you. What enticed him more for the approximate two minutes he had left in control of this body, was breaking down the brat a little. In all fairness, when you stood there so helplessly, so vulnerable with eyes full of fear before him, how could he resist? His impossibly sharp teeth flashed under the moon’s light as he stepped toward you, torn shirt hanging loosely off his shoulder and chest. 

You wanted to apologize to Yuji, to tell him that you tried to look away like he’d asked. It wasn’t a fair request though. No, not when your best friend, the boy you loved, was being held hostage. You feared if you looked away he might do something awful to him-- unaware of what lurked in the dark chasm of his thusfar imprisoned mind. 

“I’ve gotta say,” Sukuna’s gravelly voice reached your ears. It didn’t hold that playfully boyish cadence you had come to love. In its place was one that mocked you, laughing boisterously in the face of your trembling fear and anticipation of what he’d do next. “In the flesh, you’re pretty underwhelming.”

You gulped down the bile that threatened to rise from your stomach. Still crumpled on the ground from the last hit you’d taken, you weren’t sure if you should attempt to stand; unsure if he’d find that acceptable. Sukuna tilted his head at your silence, taking two slow and calculated steps forward. 

“Disgusting.” He spat suddenly, gripping you by your elbow to haul you up. You yelped in surprise, trying not to shed the tears that welled in your eyes at the sting of his nails against your skin. “This brat spends day in and day out allowing himself to be consumed. And for this?”

Your brows furrowed at his words, and you pulled against his grip. 

“Give him back.” You gritted through your teeth, fear igniting your body in tremors. 

Sukuna’s red eyes, all four of them, lit up sinsiterly, grin widening in a manner that appeared painful. You realized for that split second that he likely didn’t have much time at all to wreak havoc, and he was enjoying this. He wanted to hurt you-- to hurt Yuji, even with the limited scope of his abilities at the moment. 

“How romantic.” He cooed mockingly. His hand came up to grasp your jaw, forcing you to look into the eyes of your best friend, but he wasn’t there. Your stray tear betrayed you, slipping down your mangled cheek. Leaning forward with gusto, he licked a debauched stripe up the path your traitorous tear had taken, cackling madly as the salt tainted his tongue. Pushing you back a bit, his voice was suddenly booming, cracking at your abused eardrums with fervor. “All day!”

You tried to keep your face neutral, to be unwilling to give up the shred of dignity you had left-- for Yuji. 

“All day this brat pines and trembles and burns with the thought of you-- pathetic!”

For a moment, you felt your heart stop at his words. Surely he wasn’t implying that Yuji, even in the slightest sense, saw past more than just your friendship. You knew you shouldn’t. It wasn’t him, but your lips were moving to a different rhythm than your mind was, and you were whispering to him in hushed bewilderment, 

“What?”

“And you’re so stupidly oblivious, too? How revolting.” Despite his disgusted words, the baleful smile on his face grew that much wilder. It struck you then, how much you had disconnected yourself from the fact that the body before you, holding your body weight up with a deafening grip on your jaw, was Yuji. You didn’t see him. When you looked at that pink hair and felt the familiar curves of his hands, he wasn’t your best friend. “I suppose you’re not the only ignorant one. I can practically feel the way your weak little heart pounds everytime that brat looks at you.”

Your cheeks were burning at this point, and if he couldn’t see it in the dim moonlight, he could surely feel the heat under his mean fingers. Blinking away your tears, you willed your lip to stop trembling. 

“He doesn’t know it, you know.” Sukuna chuckled, spurred on by your painful silence. “I spend all day having to listen to him whine about his unreciprocated, little love-sick infatuation.”

It was making your stomach churn, the way he was turning your feelings for one another, ones that you were only now becoming privy to, into something so revolting. The words falling from his lips were ones you prayed so long to hear. You had spent so many sleepless nights staring back at your best friend where he laid sprawled out on the other side of your bed, both of you too traumatized from the day’s monstrosities to sleep alone-- to leave each other. This isn’t how you wanted to find out though. 

Amongst the desecration of your normal lives, you wanted to grasp onto the hope of innocence, of pure and untouched love and fondness. You hoped for bashful confessions and spontaneous kisses, ones that were purely Yuji’s intent. Sukuna was snatching the opportunity right from beneath you two, and he knew it. 

You shook your head, or tried to with the grip that was forcing your gaze on him. 

“My days are filled with his insolent whining, and I don’t find solace at night either.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think by the eager way he was spilling these thoughts out to you that he was happy to spend his fortitude in such a manner. You did know better though, and you knew what he enjoyed was the chance of domestic normalcy he was ripping away from the boy that held him hostage. “No, he touches himself at night.”

“Stop it.” You spat, unable to hold back the dam of your tears any longer. They spilled freely down your cheeks, and you swore you could see his red eyes roll into the back of his head. Your weak hands came up in a desperate attempt to shield your ears from the intimate secrets Yuji likely never intended for you to hear-- not like this anyway. The hand that held your jaw quickly fell, and he laced his fingers through yours mockingly, forcing you to listen. 

“That brat thinks of you all night when he’s beating himself off like the degenerate he is. Sometimes he calls out your name too, when he--”

You couldn’t take it anymore, feeling as though you might throw up. Above all else, your heart ached for Yuji, and you wondered if he could hear what was going on, if he was clawing his way out. You wanted to apologize to him, tell him you never meant to find out this way. You wished you could forget.

“Yuji!” 

Your cry made the demon smile, but it quickly faded with a knowing furrow of his brows. Eyes drooping lazily as he looked toward you, he shook his head. The marks on his face were slowly absorbing back into his skin. His upper lip curled in disgust. 

“Pathetic.”

In an instant, he was falling to the floor limply, bringing you down with him. When you looked up in a frenzied haze at the head that fell onto your chest, you noted with relief that it was Yuji again. His eyes fluttered open deliriously, taking in his surroundings. Looking up, he was met by your grief-stricken expression, fresh tears clinging to your face. His freshly healed arms were pulling himself up clumsily, hovering over you in a way that made it obvious that fear was gripping at every nerve in his body. 

“What— what did he do? Are you okay?” 

It was Sukuna’s very intention, the manner in which you had no choice but to see Yuji so differently now. As he hovered over you, unintentionally entrapping you under his tensing arms and bare chest, you couldn’t help but blush as the curse’s words rang in your mind. The thought of the boy you’d dreamt about for so long thinking of you in such a way, touching himself to the thought of you, longing for you-- and he was right there within your reach. 

“You… you don’t remember?” You whispered, trying to calm your racing heart. 

Yuji quickly shook his head, his comforting brown eyes tracing down your body as if to assess the damages. When his hands molded around your waist to pull your shirt up, the one that was slowly flooding through with blood from the gash on your side, you gasped and flinched away. He gulped back his nausea at the racing thoughts of what Sukuna could have done to you to warrant such a response. His hands reeled back to his sides, and he sat back on his knees. 

“I got pretty messed up back there… I think I was still healing.” he explained slowly, wanting so badly to help you, but unsure of how you viewed him now-- how scared you were of him. What he didn’t know was that you weren’t scared of him, not at all. In fact, you wanted to pull him in, hold him close, tell him that you’ve loved him all this time as well. It should have been an idyllic occasion. In the back of your mind though, you knew if Yuji hadn’t confessed to you himself already then there was likely a reason, and you shouldn’t force the decision onto him just because the curse residing in him ripped away the layers of protection that shrouded those feelings. “Please, I’m sorry. What did he do to you?”

He didn’t remember, and maybe it was better that way. At least one of you could be spared the humiliation. It took some time, but you had convinced Yuji that you were simply shaken up from the fight, though you felt he still wasn’t entirely convinced. His movements were painfully careful as he carried you to safety. It was so clear in the way he touched you with such delicacy, that he feared scaring you more than he thought he already had. 

You stared up at the ceiling that night, tears clouding your vision as you toyed with the edge of the gauze that wrapped your abdomen. In all the time you two had known each other, you couldn’t wrap your head around why he was so scared of opening up to you about the monster he shared a body with. Countless nights you’d spent after missions, as he stared unblinkingly at a wall, begging him to confide in you. In just under five minutes with the thing though, you understood the cruelty he was trying to protect you from. 

There was a soft knock on your door, and you lifted your head up as it slid open. Yuji stood tentatively at the entrance, looking like the absolute picture of health compared to your mangled self. He was scratching at the back of his head awkwardly, a little quirk you’d grown to love, much like everything else about him. Flashing you his attempt at a bashful smile, he tilted his head at you. 

“Thought you could use some company.” He offered. It was somewhat of a routine of yours to meet together after a particularly grueling mission. The two of you would lay in bed, facing each other with moronic smiles on your lips as you talked about everything-- everything but the horrors you’d witnessed. It was the only way you could find yourself calm enough to fall asleep. If you two talked each other’s ears off about the comparable strength of two manga characters, or argued halfheartedly over what was the superior horror movie in your already trash-fire line up, if you distracted one another line by line-- the two of you would forget about what you saw. Just long enough to allow your eyes to forcefully drift in exhaustion. 

Now though, as he stared undecisively at you, you could tell he wasn’t sure if he would still be allowed such privileges. Despite being lost in the labyrinth of your own mind over the night’s events-- over him-- you smiled softly for his sake and patted the spot beside you. Your breath hitched as he eagerly closed the door behind him and climbed into bed beside you. His sigh of relief fanned over the side of your face despite his attempt at concealing it. You felt his eyes on you, his body already on its side and facing you, awaiting for you to do the same. 

“Oh, your side.” Yuji sighed in ackowledgement, and you simply nodded in agreement, not wanting to reveal that you simply couldn’t look him in the eyes without bursting on the spot. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as he reached out to softly graze his hand over the wounded area. The boy saw the way your breath hitched and your expression shifted, slowly retracting his hand. “Listen, I’m sorry for whatever happened back there. Please, look at me.”

A little piece of your heart broke off at the pained desperation in his tone. Blinking back the tears that threatened to form, you turned your head to the side to look in his wide, distraught eyes. Softening your gaze, you struggled against your pain as you forced yourself on your side to face him. 

“No, Yuji, it’s okay--”

“No it’s not!” In an instant, he was sitting up, looking down at you as his chest heaved with purposeful breaths. “He’s taken everything from me, and I…”

His shoulders slumped, and a rosy tint rushed to his cheeks. 

“I won’t let him take you too-- I can’t. So, please, just tell me what I have to do to make you not scared of me anymore, and I’ll do it, okay? I’ll do anything.”

Unable to take it anymore, you moved to sit up with a grunt. Yuji’s hands quickly shot out to help you until you were facing him. He looked back at you with such conviction, such longing in his gaze, and, with hindsight bias, you wondered how you never saw it sooner. 

“You’re my best friend, Yuji… I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Then why can’t you look me in the eyes?”

You pursed your lips, tentatively taking his hands into yours to hold them between you two. His breath hitched ever so slightly at the connection. Scraping your thumb over his knuckle absentmindedly in a manner that was scrambling his brain like eggs, you thought carefully on your next words. 

“You don’t think anything could ruin our friendship… right?” You asked timidly, eyes meeting his through your lashes. His brows furrowed at your question, and he found himself leaning forward to gaze into you sincerely, shaking his head quickly. 

“Nothing. Don’t you think we’ve been through too much together already? You’re kinda stuck with me.”

The hesitantly joking tone in his voice made you smile softly. Yuji had a way of easing your anxiety that way, as if there was a little door in your mind that only he had the key to open up and gaze into whenever he pleased. It gave you more confidence to continue your pursuit.. 

“And there aren’t any secrets between us? Nothing you’ve… not told me?”

Gulping thickly, he felt his face pale. There was something he was keeping from you, something he had come to terms with being content with if it meant he’d never put your relationship in jeopardy. An attempted smile broke into his face, but the corners of his lips were twitching anxiously. You could have melted at the sight. 

 “Uh… no. You know I tell you everything.” The lie stumbled from his lips unconvincingly. Your lips set into a firm line as you shot him a knowing yet playful look. Suddenly, his eyes were darting everywhere but you. They were at your hands, on your nose, on the ceiling, anywhere that would allow him to gather his thoughts. “Is this about the dent in your bathroom wall? Cause I promise I have a good explaination, a-and I was going to tell you, but you were already upset about the--”

“I love you.” It fell from your lips, permanent, unable to be drawn back in. In truth, the both of you could have died that night. Yuji was practically pinned under a building, and you had been face to face with the king of curses. The sentiment of either of you dying without having heard the depths of your feelings for one another was not lost on you. The lifestyles you led were perilous, self-sacrificing, and morbid. You already lived in fear that your next mission would be your last, and, as you were blanketed by the comfort brought upon by the proximity of the boy you loved so dearly, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel this type of fear too. Not for Yuji. 

“Take it back.”

Okay, maybe his blunt order hurt more than the boulder that flew into your side earlier, but you still stood by what you said. A small, breathless gasp fell from your lips as you stared at his solemn expression. 

“Oh,” you muttered out meekly, and, despite your burning embarrassment, you couldn’t tear your eyes from his. “I’m sorry, I just—”

“I wanted to say it to you first.” He reiterated, his lips pulled to the side in frustration, eyebrows furrowed as he regarded you. “I spent years thinking of what I wanted to say to you. Take it back.” 

Relief flooded your system like a drug, flowing through your veins and relaxing your constricting muscles. In its place came a bashful flush at his words. Smiling softly in disbelief, you shook your head a bit.

“Okay,” you drew out slowly, watching him square his muscles back as if preparing for his line. “I take it back.” 

Despite his previous determination and insistence that he had something profound to say, all he could do was lean forward to press his lips against yours clumsily. He couldn’t help himself, not with the way your twinkling eyes stared up at him expectantly, glimmering with an excitement he felt he was alone with for years. A muffled huff of surprise from you was swallowed right up by his eager lips as he lunged forward to deepen the connection he’d just forged. 

“‘M sorry,” Yuji mumbled against your mouth, reaching up to grip at the side of your face as if you’d ever run from him. “Know I talked all that shit, but I forgot what I was gonna say. I love you. I just love you. I’ve always loved you.”

He didn’t allow you any room for a response because his desperate push against your lips had you leaning back to accommodate the sudden weight, and you fell back against your pillow. The boy eagerly chased you, crawling over your panting form to pour out all the soliloquies he longed to spill out to you with some semblance of eloquence, he wanted it all conveyed to you through his frenzied devouring of you. 

Your mind was reeling with his sudden urgency, and you quickly came to the realization that the both of you had been living with this fear of passing one another up. Your hand snaked up to run along his chest, daring to explore up his neck and into the tufts of his pink hair. A soft moan of your name had you blushing profusely, suddenly remembering what Sukuna had told you about the extent of Yuji’s desires for you. You wondered if this was what he sounded like when he called out to you at night with his hands wrapped around himself. Squinting your eyes, you willed your imagination to take a quick u-turn, remembering that that wasn’t information Yuji had given up willingly. 

“Say it back.” Yuji suddenly demanded, finally tearing away from his assault on your lips to stare down at you determinedly. “Say it again.” 

Your free hand came up to cup his cheek. There was so much fear and guilt and sadness pent up in your chest at the prospect of what Sukuna had taken from him that night. It had never been like you to lie to him or keep things from him. As your thumb ran across his bottom lip lovingly, and he looked so accomplished, so content with how this night had somehow progressed in his favor, you realized that the curse hadn’t taken anything from him. Not when you were there to make sure that kind of hatred never touched him. 

“I love you too, Yuji.” 

His wide, boyish grin lit up the dim room. Swinging back down with fervor, the two of you laughed against each other as your teeth clashed messily. Humming contentedly, his wandering hands traveled down your side and snuck up your shirt. God, he’d dreamed of this for so long, and you were right there- underneath of him and pliable to his every touch. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, he could feel it in the way his boxers tightened uncomfortably against him, but he feared he may wake up at any second back in his dorm room alone, like he had so many times following his messianic dreams about what it may be like to have you. 

As his fingers creeped up, you flinched against his fervent grasp that lit your wounded side ablaze. Yuji was suddenly reminded of the night’s events, and he cursed quietly before reluctantly pulling away from you. Looking down at your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, an unbrittled exhilaration swirled in his chest. There would be so many more nights with you, he would make sure of it. He leaned forward to press a last, longing and solemn kiss against your forehead-- a promise that you two would come back to this. 

Carefully, he pulled his grasp away from your wounded side and settled down beside you. Unlike those countless nights the two of you shared a bed, Yuji laid snuggly against you, locking your knees under his strong legs. With his head propped up on his elbow, he beamed down at you, lovestruck as he affectionately tugged your shirt back down. As his fingers lingered against the protruding gauze, his expression creased a bit.

“You… you never told me what Sukuna did.”

Although he hated that he felt the need to ruin the moment with such dark thoughts, no amount of lust could have driven that fear from the back of his mind. Your smile faltered marginally at his words. Thinking of how excited he was to confess to you, and how ardently he fell into this new role so comfortably with you, exploring you with an innocence that was a stark contrast to the dark world you two traversed, you shook your head. Leaning up to press an assuring kiss to his cheek, you looked right at the slits under his eyes, as if daring the curse to acknowledge you. 

“He didn’t do a damn thing.”

masterlist.

[cherryredstars]

Cherry, I’ve always wanted to say this to you… You. Are. Amazing! I seriously can't get enough of your work!

How about this? Reader is a TV host that bashes on Spider-Man. However it is just a job to her and doesn’t believe in the things she rants about. Anyway, one day reader is caught in the middle of one of Spider’s Man foes and our favorite grumpy spider saves her. Though he is extremely rude to her when she tries to thank him (what else is new?). Reader has to convince him that she doesn’t hate him (the opposite in fact) and decides to show him her appreciation.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Thigh Riding, A Little Electricity(??)

A/N: Thank you, lovie!! Enjoy!

Unedited

The world must hate you.

The stiffness in the air is haunting as the burly hero trails behind you, making sure you don’t make more trouble. You weren’t exactly looking for it, it just came to you. How were you supposed to know actively looking for one of the biggest criminals in the past few weeks for a story could be dangerous?

Okay, maybe he had a point.

You sigh, trying to subtly glance over your shoulder. Even through his mask, you can see the grimace he directs at you, pixels slightly distorting. You thin your lips, rubbing your arm. Great, even Spiderman is after you.

“Um,” you start, turning to face him. He crosses his arms over his chest and you try not to let your eyes linger on how it tightens his suit. “My house is just around the block, I’ll be fine from here.”

He doesn’t move, continuing to stare down at you like you’re a child. You gulp, balancing on the balls of your shoes before slowly turning around and walking forward with a dragged out whisper of okay. You lead him down the block until you stop in front of the entrance to your apartment complex.

You face him once again, putting on an awkward smile.

“Thank you for, uh, escorting me home.” The hero says nothing, looking over you for any injuries before starting to turn around.

Your hand rushes out, electricity pulsing under your fingers for just a second as you grab his arm before he shakes you off.

“I don’t mean those things.” You rush out, suddenly desperate to clear the air with your favorite hero. “I-it’s a job. Just a job.”

You can hear the small scoff he lets out from under his mask, something in you deflating slightly. You open your mouth again, but no words come to mind to reassure him. You clamp your mouth shut, a stupid idea coming to you. You reach out, grabbing his arm again and turn him to face you. You’re quick as you lean up and press a hard kiss to his mask, your lips tingling from the buzzing technology. Instinctively, Miguel grabs at your waist to steady you on your toes, a low grunt leaving him.

You pull away, clearing your throat. Embarrassment flushes your skin and you sharply turn away. You really are stupid or something. “Good night.”

You stalk towards the entrance door, body moving like a robot as you avoid the burning gaze at your back. You open the door, turning when you feel hot electricity directly behind you. Your eyes stay on his chest, too embarrassed to look him in the eye.

“I’ll walk you to your door.”

What he really meant was, I’ll follow you through the door and proceed to fuck you against it.

You let out a soft moan as he presses you against the wall, pressing a suited thigh between your legs as he guides you up and down it. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, digging in so strongly that the suit glows white under them. You can feel his lips at your skin, mouthing and sucking on the delicate curve of your neck. Your pencil skirt has folded up to your waist, leaving only your panties to protect your aching clit from the subtle buzz and zaps of his suit as he grinds you on him.

You throw your head back, a whimper leaving you from the harsh hold he has on your hips. You can tell he’s trying to get you off quickly, probably in a rush to get back on the streets and protect the rest of the city. But right now, he’s here, in your apartment with his sharp fangs teasingly dragging against your skin.

You wonder if he can feel the wetness of your parties through his suit, if he is able to smell the pure arousal wafting from you as you buck your hips against his thigh with heavy moans. You try to look down at his face, only to see the bottom half revealed so he can mouth at you. You whine in disappointment, even though the rational part of your brain understands why he won’t reveal his full identity.

He seems to smirk at the nose, flexing his thigh and making you gasp as your clothed cunt runs over the corded muscle. A small curse flutters from your lips as another pleasant flicker of electricity runs over your clit, your orgasm just over the horizon.

Miguel speeds up his movements, making you grind faster against his leg until he’s sure you’re about to glitch out his suit from how hard you grab onto him. You come with a strangled cry, cunt fluttering against his suit as his teeth give a small nip to your neck. The tiniest dose of venom hits your skin, but it’s enough to leave your post-orgasm state limp. You slump against him, twitching from the aftershocks of pleasure and his suit. He ever so gently moves you to the couch, laying you down as his mask fully obscures his face again. You’re left to drowsily stare at him as he approaches your window, opening it before disappearing into the night.

What a way to thank your heroes.

[court-jobi]

Hi, lately I came across your blog and I really adore your writting style :3

I was very excited when I saw you have open requests (if I am not wrong, otherwise ignore me hah), so I have request for Bakugou × reader, when they are in established relationship, but lately it got rocky, because he was barely home, trying to climb ranks and just neglecting their relationship, so they barely even talk. Then reader gets kidnapped, due to being Bakugou's SO, but she feels so irrelevant at this point that she starts saying to the kidnapper that they are wasting their time, because Bakugou is not coming for her, whick Katsuki overhears, you know just good old angst with fluff at the end maybe

If this request is too complicated or specific please don't feel pressured to do this, anyway have a lovely day/night

I am very much receptive to asks, and thank you so much for providing one!! super flattered actually and spent my entire afternoon crafting up this bad boy bc I had an instant idea for it

Hopefully I touched all the right notes on this one, enjoy anon! Don't be a stranger~

Do It Scared

Words: 4.9K

Warnings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x reader TW: kidnapping, intimidation, light descriptions of violence, protective Bakugou is protective, language, angst with a happy ending (promise!!) and potential spoiler: Pro Hero!Deku

for my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Dynamight is on top of the world– or at least working his ass off to get there.

With Deku back on the leaderboard, he’s got twice the motivation and has never been in love with being a hero more.

“That’s what -heh- nine for you this week, Dynamight?” the newly suited Pro beams at Bakugou- not unlike the five year old version of him did back a lifetime ago.

Only instead of bashing the twerp upside the head with a gloating tease, Bakugou simple smirks and gives Midoriya a stiff push on the shoulder, 

“Ten, but who’s counting, nerd?”

The winded, black-and-blue villain currently under custody finds the heroes’ track records funny. Midoriya doesn’t necessarily take these villain types’ remarks to heart, but hates the attitude of this one today.

“Yer sidekick keepin’ count?! You wanna badge or a chest to pin it on, smartie pants? –AAGH!”

“HEY- THE ONLY GUY CALLIN’ THIS DEKU A NERD IS ME, DUMBASS!! YOU’RE THE SHITHEAD GOING TO JAIL FOR THAT STUNT– AND HE’S HEADING INTO THE TOP TEN!!”

“HO-OKAY, DYNAMIGHT, I think he’s had enough!!” 

Deku corrals the punk’s restraints a bit, but leaves the remaining process of reading rights and detainment for the police who just rolled up. Deku will proudly share that much prefers this ‘thick as thieves’ treatment to the ‘fight me or die’ dynamic they shared in school, and couldn’t be happier to be Pro Heroes once again.

And if Bakugou were completely honest, so was he. He’s in his element and closer to reaching his goal by the day.

Walking out of earshot from the police unit, the two are heading over to Ingenium and Creati who are deeply engrossed with the intelligence officers who just arrived on the scene. 

“Ten it is, then– you really need to start leaving some to me though; I can handle it, you know,” Midoriya slips his facemask down, exposing a pleading grin Bakugou still kinda wants to punch some days. “Might give you a little time to actually take a rest day now and then!”

“Tch, if you were fast enough, you’d do it, ‘Zuku.” Bakugou straightens out his gauntlet, but misses his best friend’s tilt of a frown. “N’ who said I need a rest day, anyway? I’ve never been better!”

“I can think of one person..” Midoriya hinted strongly at something that truly escaped Bakugou’s focus. Every now and then, he couldn’t quite mindread the nerd like normal, if he was deep in work mode.

“Heh?”

Midoriya raised a friendly, tired brow, “How’s your girl been lately, hm?”

Bakugou tenses a touch, but quips back, “Whaddya mean. She’s fine, been working a lot too.”

“Not as much as you. What’s she up to? You haven’t said much about her.”

Which was an oddity, indeed. Your successes, your insights, and even your random memes were common topics of conversation from Bakugou’s lips. But Midoriya did raise a finer point between the lines– you’d been put on something of a backburner, and he knew better that something must be off for the blond porcupine to rarely speak of you. Bakugou sensed it himself, but the more repeated check-in texts he received, the cycle of his non-answers worsened. This must be what the nerd is getting at.

“She’s fine-” Bakugou pressed, assuring himself and no one else, “Look, we’ve got our flow, and it works. I keep her in the loop when I’m busy and she gets it.”

Midoriya heaves a disbelieving breath, and just fixes Bakugou a look.

“What’s that shitty look for, huh? Whaddyou know?!”

“I know when she texted me yesterday that she doesn’t sound thrilled about your overtime…” the freckled sweetheart touched a personal chord within Bakugou. “Or that she hasn’t even heard from you to talk about it? I mean, I-I know it’s not my business, but Ka-”

“Deku, Dynamight!” Iida waved the two over from their aside, and back into work mode- to Bakugou’s drop in spirit, “We have a bit of a time-sensitive mission to take care of~”

Deku turned to the officer, raring to go and and straightening up his shoulders to address their more formal counterparts, “Of course, officer- how can we help?”

“Well sirs, we’ve got an ongoing heist over on the other side of the riverbank, and need a bit of coordination to respond.”

Yauyorozu had just finished off a protein pack of some sort and had demurely crumpled its trash in her hand while navigating an ipad passed to her. She’d welcomed Midoriya over when he took interest in whatever footage she’d been presented.

“Well shit, we supposed to be standin’ around like this when time’s wasting, or what?” Bakugou asked brusquely.

Ingenium -in his formal, helmeted fashion couldn’t hide his practiced patience well with the hothead in his response;

“The need for firepower is necessary, Dynamight– but caution is as well,” Iida reminded dryly. “We are in a heavily populated area, and must exercise control.”

Bakugou merely purred a low growl and turned diplomatic.

“Fine. We got live wires? Hostages?”

“To our knowledge, only a select few- a dozen at most,” the officer answered, “We can see most of the victims through the bank’s glass lobby. It’s a small, petty theft group- or so we thought, but there are some decent quirk users among them. Seems they are after more than funds, but records as well.”

Bakugou refrained from rolling his eyes, but only barely. Surely there were bigger and better missions to be pursuing than this– something a bit flashier, more suited for his skills with higher civilian rescue numbers to add to his count.

“One guest was able to contact via the emergency text line, and reported that someone did pull an emergency trigger and was taken further back into the vaults as a prisoner.”

Iida empathized, “Hardly fair- I’m sure none of these customers were armed, and they were simply acting as any hero would trying to notify the authorities.”

The officer firmed up a smile in agreement and proceeded to share some more info about how far back into the bank the team would need to infiltrate based on proximity to servers. 

“Sure you don’t just wanna call ‘Tape’, bust in there, strap ‘em up, and call it a day? Y’don’t really need a whole evac team, do you.”

A simple rescue in-and-out should be easy enough, or so he assumed- until Yaoyorozu took a bit of a sharp intake of breath in her nose, alerting Deku to fixate on the screen again,

“Bak- erm. Dynamight,” Yaoyorozu interjected gently, “-you need to see this-”

Bored and still half paying attention to the officer, Bakugou only barely looked Momo’s way, and didn’t really feel like a crowd around a tiny screen -in full sun- was warranted.

“What? It’s frickin’ bright out-”

“Kacchan,” Midoriya shot back icily, “get over here.”

Something alarming had struck him in the face, and he was purposefully putting on a front to those not personally connected to the heroes. Sidestepping ‘Legs’, Bakugou was passed the ipad and played back the security footage of the interior of the bank.

Time stamped at just fifteen minutes ago, a civilian in question had tried dipping around the counter to where some clerks had been bullied up to the opposite wall- but one of the employees jerked her head towards one of the registers- a lightning quick gesture. This cued the civvie -a woman, if the hiked up skirt was a correct indication- in the foreground to feel around the bottom lip of the keyboard for something- likely an alarm switch. Once done so, she’d merely knelt back down, hoping to stay low and sneak back to avoid the thug to lash out at the person who’d tipped her off.

But then -comically enough- the thug sneezed and unfortunately whipped to the side to let it fly. Looking up, there she was in his sightline. With something akin to a spider’s web knocking her flat onto her back, she’d been dragged up and back with the others- trying to ground herself with a squatted stance first, tried to force her elbows back, then bashing her head back in an attempt to hit her captor– until she was ultimately slapped and taken back to the far hallway, hunched over.

Bakugou saw red. His heart stopped then set itself on fire, hotter than Hades. He’d known that self defense response from having taught it, himself.

You pulled the alarm. 

For the first time in his career- he knows the target he’s saving. He’s in love with her, after all.

Damn your neck hurts. If your elbows hadn't been glued up to your sides, you woulda used those instead; but now having jerked your head back, you’d given yourself a healthy dose of whiplash.

And got a punch to the gut. And a slap to the face. Joy.

There’s fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. You’d seemingly gone for the fight route, with your body moving before your self-preservation could catch up, but it seems your fawning tactic of remaining calm and quiet wasn’t working out for you now. At least you took the attention off those poor girls in the lobby who were in near hysterics. 

Only now it seemed you’d taken on the role yourself, back here. You try to breathe deep, drop your shoulders, drop your jaw. You’d think this would double to avoid showing any fear that your captors can use against you, but it’s honestly just to help keep you grounded and not panic and curb the intense need to vomit or cry.

Please. As if you’d even call yourself heroic for pulling the theft alarm– but you suppose it’s instincts. Carry-over bravery: osmosis you assume, from hanging around these heroes. Your hero. Katsuki.

You’re stunned– you’re shocked– and you’re scared. 

Katsuki. You want Katsuki. More than the police, more than your mom. 

You want your hero to come for you, over any other in this entire country. The name pounds behind your eyes when you shut them against a wave of pain, the person you want more than anything else in the world.

–And at the same time, that man’s name hurts at the cry for it: given he hasn’t spared you more than a one or two word response in days. Because he’s overworked by his own volition. By his own drive. And you should be angry. You have been, for this is the longest you haven’t seen each other outside of a trip; considering you’ve all but committed your lives together and he’s typically at your place every other night, the drop in communication is a cold bath.

And you’re scared now- it’s a blurry feeling. Time is wonky when you’re stuck in a room with no windows, no visible clock and just waiting. All those tips they tell you about how to react in an emergency to keep calm? The ones you’ve heard over and over again in security briefings and teacher preparedness days before the school year starts? Man, is it easy for those to go out the window when you’re in actual trouble.

You just want Katsuki. And that’s a silly thought, considering how wide the city is. He could be clear across the district right now.

But just saying the name -thinking of any other pleasant time when he had his arms around you play-fighting that could make these bindings feel more bearable- that’s what you want to cling to.

The villains here are pretty pathetic as interrogators go, but that spares you no calm as they taunt you as if you were a captured magistrate or politician. They’re split into two parties; their head honcho trying to tap into the databanks of the servers two doors down while your immediate captors with the creepy quirks are choosing to go through your recovered phone seeking out blackmail like the assholes they are. Your primary apps for insurance and paying your bills are thumbprint protected, so really what could they get to that's confidential? Nothing, to your knowledge. But it seems your camera roll strikes their interest. 

Oh yeah, they hit low. They see your lock screen first- a sweet photo of your harmless, dopey dog who they snark that you won’t be home to feed on time. Then even more, as your home screen displays a picture-perfect selfie of you and your darling man. You picked it because it’s rare proof of him smiling at some wisecrack you made before snapping the shutter.

Your handsome and infuriatingly busy man. 

“Aww, well just look at little miss hero’s cute lil boyfriend! Bet he’ll be awful proud of you playing the savior~”

“Tehehe, too little too late though, yeah? Gotta be quicker than that for us.”

“Geez, how sappy can you get. This guy’s all over her…and can’t blame him, honestly. Makes me feel a little bad for roughing such a pretty thing up.~”

Gross. Just gross. You act like you don’t listen, your simpering pain turns to nausea the more they talk. Until a renewed sense of fear hits:

“Wait- go back. Oh. Ohhh shit, no.”

“Whuh.”

“Fuck, man, that’s DYNAMIGHT!!” the jerk with the copious amounts of tattoos and chains draping off his arms like whips gets nervous real fast, “We have Dynamight’s girlfriend!!”

Your other guard seems to swallow for a split second, but immediately tips to a feigned dominance,

“Well, ain’t that just icing on the cake~”

“THE HELL DO YOU MEAN? He’s gonna come after her!! You know how scary that guy is?! I’m telling the boss-”

“Don’t wimp out already,” he fires back. “Why do that and waste time- when knowing this, we could get paid double? Heroes ransoms can cost him a pretty penny, and you know he’ll do it for her. Those heroes make bank.”

You flatten your brows angrily. 

“Whaddya think, princess? Big man gonna come and save you, huh?  

You really want Katsuki. But you truly have no idea if he’d know or care to come at this point. The spiral downwards in the mind is dizzying along with your headache, and just makes your heart sick for him. 

When you see him next, you’re not sure if you’d hug him or throttle him. Though now, you just wanna see him. 

“Unless.. He doesn’t!” his mood shifts- patronizing, “Too busy makin’ a paycheck and name for himself and all his hero buddies than to settle down and think about the pretty thing at home? Well, I would fix that real quick–”

A muffled boom sounds on your right. Rooms away.

Another, louder. Two beats after, the guards look at each other.

You hear a yell, a harsh one, then another blast that sounds cracklier than the rest. Someone’s close. But you’re honestly not sure if it’s friend or foe.

You’re excited, but get nervous again when the lackeys move into action. Chains loops a rough swing of his appendages around you and starts dragging you back into the adjoining office, while the muscle goes back to type at one of their private laptops that’s downloading something.

You give off a flare of panic in your voice- a sound you hate but can’t control. 

“It’s-s not him–” you force your pitch lower, but it shakes despite your best effort. “Cmon, there’s too many heroes, s’not gonna be him–  n’there gonna come an’- bust yall anyway!! Whaddya want me for?!”

As you’re dragged, you catch a glimpse of shine from above you. In the vent, you see mustard yellow and teal saturated with shadow- all metal. Then, his voice, through a comm on his wrist that flashes in the reflected light:

“Got her. Light it up, on your left.” 

Both lackeys drop what they’re doing and look up to see the vent kicked into the floor– and the wall totally blown in from your right. 

Dynamight -the Symbol of Victory- and Deku -the Symbol of Peace- are dropping in at breakneck speed, though the former is out for blood.

“ALRIGHT, WHICH ONE OF YOU FUCKERS AM I KILLING FIRST??”

Deku’s landing creates a decent wind with his jump, revealing Bakugou behind where the door usually is, and clocking your position almost immediately. 

It’s a powerful thing, to see him in action- you’ve certainly never seen it in person, and you’ve never heard him this mad. To his credit, he never raises his voice enough for you to fear it.

He spots you and the guy who rushes him, but just snarls, evades his whip of weighted chains entirely, grabs him by the calf, and chucks him into the opposing wall with a spinning throw. Then, he sets straight to you.

“DEKU!!” he shouts to Midoriya, “Trash, at your ten!!”

“On it!” Your angel from the ceiling ducts is currently laying into the other guy, but keeps the reeling villain in his sights before he can get up and strike again. You imagine the sucker has more than a few broken bones (or truly is dead, as promised)… he doesn’t move from his figure on the floor.

While you’re still coughing up a storm from the drywall throwing dust everywhere, Bakugou comes to your side and immediately picks your bound body up in a rush from the chair you were perched on.

“C’mere you-” 

He sounds rushed and spent, huffs it out of the room and into a separate office down the hall. 

You spot Ingenium and Creati moving on to the other end of the hall where you know the final villain remains, but you can already hear the squeals of said wimp once Iida bursts in. This will be quick work for the rest of them, so you weren’t worried Dynamight would be needed anymore.

Inside an executive’s office, Bakugou kicks the door behind him shut with his heel and sets you on the dearest flat surface- a decently sized desk.

“Hey you- you still with me?”

You don’t realize you’re breathing so fast until he’s looking you square in the face with split concern. It’s night and day from when he burst in after one of his more gusty explosions, his voice all cracked and high in pitch.

“Cmon, baby look at me- here, let’s get this crap off of you..”

Your gasps for air turn wet and you can’t keep yourself from crying anymore. It would be notably sweet that he still tries his hardest not to curse wildly around you, but right now you don’t care what font his expletives are in. Every bit of stress leaving your body all at once is a rush for your senses and your emotions.

“Kats~”

After his pocketed knife’s quick, careful work separating your arms from your waistline covered in a still-sticky webbing, he sheaths the blade again and collects you up when you launch yourself at him. 

Bakugou holds you hard and fast and you can’t even be bothered to worry about how his shoulder pauldrons are nearly choking you. He’s got you back in his arms, and he’s just saved your life.

“I’m here,” he grunts to you, relieved beyond measure, “I’m here, sweet’eart. You’re safe.”

You’re so thankful. You’re so happy-

“N’d I am so sorry.

-You’re so confused.

In a flippy tone that betrays what heightened nerves you’d just gone through, you ask, 

“Huh?”

Bakugou’s fingers thread into your hair when you try and pull back-

“Don’t. S’the first.” His iron-sure voice wavers, “I- I haven't hugged you all week.”

Then, you’re both crying into each other, and it’s a healing thing. 

Dragging careful nails across the back of his hero suit, you try to offer a tiny bit of comfort to this mass of man cradling you on this desk. You know you’re still in dire need to talk about his recent absence, but what a reunion this was. Feeling him after a seven or eight day stretch of near radio silence changes the degree of flame you hold against him. Honestly now, you’re in the mind to think he deserves a pass entirely. 

Bakugou finally lifts enough to press a kiss to your head, but makes no move to let go of you. “I’ve missed you, baby.”

Has he? He’s barely texted you past the ‘I’m heading out’ and ‘I’ve gotta sleep’ with no room to offer or reciprocate any form of love between you; so much so, it threatened to make you doubt. 

“Have you? I haven’t heard.”

“No, you haven’t. And that’s all on me.”

You turn your head very slowly- your entire neck is still tender, but you'd rather listen to him with an ear to his chest, where you belong. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you settle on the truth. You might have more to say when you’re not so exhausted, but the truth is you’ll still love him no matter what, and you do always miss him.

You miss every moment, big and small. His wins and losses. Nights where he’s high off a victory or the ones where he’s bone-tired and in his head about how weak he must seem. Nights where he takes out his hearing aids and just wants to fall into your silence to sleep safely, and the mornings where he’s up and ready to go take on the day after he has your kiss and hug to charge him up. Whether he has your chapstick smeared up on his cheek, or the promise of your arms to hold him in whatever state he greets you when he comes home, you just miss him. You notice when he’s not there. The house seeks him out, with lights on for him to find his way inside, and low music to soothe what anger might have followed him home.

You take a few moments to just soak each other in. You hope and pray he’ll come home with you after this.

And thank the Maker, your prayers might just be answered.

“This was a wake-up call, sweetheart.” Bakugou sounds a bit bolder, but still talks softly to you and the dust mites around you, “I’m takin’ a leave. A long one.”

The way he promises time off is something he’s toyed with before, but never followed through on.

“You can’t do that, Kats,” there’s no coldness to the words, but you mean it.

“Yes I can. It’s my race; I can step away.”

You sigh against his pec, “I’m.. I’m not asking you to. I can’t, that wouldn’t be fair.”

To you, sure. But not for his dream. Not the dream he’s worked and fought and lived for since before you met, and long before he fell in love with you. You’d supported him in this chase to save everyone and be the best at what he does from day 1, and you’ve never wavered on that– you still wouldn’t, even if someone asked you now feeling as dejected as you do by his absences–

“Tch. Y’know what's not fair?”

Bakugou finally loosens his grip on you to lift your chin up to him with thick, strong fingers, 

“Leavin’ you for days on end; waiting up, worried sick. Leaving, and just assuming you’ll still be there when I get back. And now you’re getting fuckin’ snatched the minute I turn my back on what we have. That isn’t right.”

The correlation is irrational- this incident today was a freak accident. You couldn’t have planned it- or certainly hope that your identity as his significant other is not going to be weaponized. Shuffle in the hallway beyond tells you that the possibility of that information leaking is sufficiently locked up along with them. 

Surely Izuku would have grabbed your phone– and maybe set you up a new lock screen with a mean mug to poke some fun at ‘Kacchan’.

You slump against him, at the sound that he’s being too hard on himself, and that’s not what you want for him either.

“I just miss you, Katsuki. And I want to see you succeed.” you study the bold ‘X’ across his chest with fondness and heartache mixed, “I want both those things. I just can’t help but wonder if you have to go at it so fast? And so hard, where I never see you? Like you’re racing against the clock to be #1? I just want you there in one piece; I don’t care how long it takes.”

You have no doubt he’s going to land the spot before he’s thirty. You just hope for a balanced ascension to the height of his power and ability. And selfishly… you hope you’re in the picture of his life when he does.

Bakugou hears and you do believe he listens, as he smooths a calming hand up and down your arm all the while.

“And today..” you clam up a bit with an uncontrollable shake, “Today was- scary. But you couldn’t help that. Any more that you can help it from happening t’ anyone. I know that,”

And you look up at him despite the burn it causes you. And -a funny contrast to your still teary eyes- you smile.

“-but you did save me. And that was- honestly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen in my life.”

The comment strikes him as funny, too, since he gives a little chuckle.

“Me blastin’ in and causing you to choke on my smoke?”

You nodded briefly.

“Kinda hot, all things considered.”

Unbelievable, his headshake and eyeroll at how easily you can -and will- make jokes. Perhaps it is the shock still, deflecting with humor. 

You do realize how fragile it is because when you laugh at the absurdity, you catch his eye again and you look just a little too long before you’re sniffling. 

The reality is that you could lose him at any time: whether by his end or yours. He’s got the more dangerous job by far, but if today was any indication on your part, you shouldn’t just think yourself as a shoe-in for safety.

Bakugou cups your face in his hands to make himself perfectly clear.

“You’re the hero today, angel. Watched you in 16-bit as you snuck back there, taking that bastard into next week. You saved every- single- one of them.” he placed a kiss on each word as he praised you. “I am so damn proud of you.”

Your hands still skipped, limbs jumpy. 

“I don’t feel like a hero.”

His lashes lured you in as he gazed at you through them, “Doesn’t mean you aren’t one. You did it scared. That’s pretty hot, too.”

You huffed your amusement as he thanked you in his own way. Best to let him carry on before he’s whisked away again. 

Just as you thought he might release you in ushering you out of the office, Bakugou takes you by the hands so that you can stand, then keeps you in place by his immovable stance.

“Things are gonna change,” he vows, “because none of this shit matters if I don’t have you. Yeah I want you now, but I’m gonna want you after my fire’s burnt out. Which means, I gotta pay attention. I have to set ‘who matters’ just as high as ‘what matters’ and remember why.”

Touched by every word, your trembling lessens. You take in his warmth and his care and his explosive loyalty with confidence and nod in agreement.

Taking one last selfish hug, you sink into your hero again, standing more as equals than you usually feel being held by him. He’s lifted you up in more ways than one. Enough to let safety back into your heart, enough to tease,

“That can’t be your line. When did ‘Zuzu’ give you that one?”

“Hey,” Bakugou flicked you in the temple lightly, “I can be nice too, dammit.”

“Sure you can,” you kiss the dip of his neck in apology.

“You’re just always nice, you can’t appreciate the difference.” he pouts, taking your hand and leading you out of the office.

“...Sure I can.”

You have to give him a solid shot– he’s nothing if not insistent with what he wants.

Outside the room, there are a host of officers, photographers, medics and heroes aiding in the recovery efforts, so you relax your hand in his to let go,

–only he doesn’t let you.

Bakugou glances to you, “You’re in shock, extra. You need to get checked out.”

“I’m fine, Mr. Dynamight,” you chortle with a little head bobble like you would have normally done, only now the movement makes you wince.

“That’s what I thought. OI, Deku- where’s her sh-phone?”

The iron hero stands with the receptionists, looks to you both and smiles gratefully, before nodding off to his company and joins you-

“This, I believe, belongs to you, maam~” he perks up as he comes around to your other side. It’s not so much that you have to pretend to be strangers, but in this high-traffic place, it seems easier to fall into roles of ‘heroes’ and ‘thankful public’.

“How kind, Mr. Symbol of Peace~ I’d be missing this!”

Double checking your lock screen, he did -in fact- change your cover screen to a playful selfie: pointing at the crumbled remains of the wall they’d broken into, with the caption:

>>Whatever Kacchan wants, Kacchan gets <3<<

Muting your laugh, you simply tilt your phone Bakugou’s way and catch Midoriya’s quick wink back to you, before he sets off running with a screaming boyfriend sprinting after him.

At least Katsuki showed up back at your place at 6:30PM on the dot, fixed you both a salmon dinner, and started getting your baseline of support back on track. With his next two weeks off and barely keeping his hands off of you so far, you believed he was making good on remembering his why.

[starflared-arrow]

take these idk

[colduncrustable]

the martin antis working so hard to make waves is so funny. like, you are very much allowed to like/dislike any character you please! but making it your whole personality or acting like you’re cooler for it is a little bit silly. you are not morally or intellectually superior for hating on a fiction character.

not to mention all of the characters in tma are very nuanced and complicated, just like real people (!), and erasing all of that to serve a certain narrative is a complete disservice to the entire body of work. jon and martin’s relationship was never meant to be easy, they first and foremost worked closely together as boss/employee, and in a workplace that was actively putting them in dangerous and horrible situations. the whole point is that they’re both super fucked up but they have each other anyway. they both have flaws, they both have gone through a great deal both with and without each other, but they found love anyway. the idea that the dynamic change in s5 is due to martin just being this villain is so wild? like he’s not a doormat anymore but he also loves jon so fiercely and stands by him over and over again?

jon hated him, jon ignored him, was verbally horrible to him again and again, literally sent him on a dangerous investigation and said if anyone had to die might as well be him, jon accused him of murder, screamed at him, jon was on the run, jon died. martin was his number one defender through everything, even when honestly? he didn’t do a lot to prove he deserved it. but martin was strong in his loyalty and did his best to be a supporter anyway. he picked up extra work, he thought of him kindly when no one else did, he mourned him, and he put himself directly in the line of fire for jon. for everyone, yes, but especially for jon, he says that. because after everything, protecting jon is still his number one priority.

it’s so important to his character that he isn’t s1 martin anymore—that he learns to be a real person who has thoughts and feelings and a backbone. jon wanted that, and does it not say something that they don’t work out until martin learns to have a little bite? there’s a difference between being a real complicated traumatized human person, and just straight up being evil, or an asshole. jon had to learn how to be a lot of softer things but martin had to learn how to square his shoulders and stick out his chin. they had different arcs, and that doesn’t make either of them inherently evil or bad. it makes them real and not perfect and very multilayered, yeah.

martin didn’t handle every choice or action perfectly, he made a lot of mistakes, and he never claims to be the best person ever. but jon also fucked up, a lot. it isn’t a competition or a comparison, that’s really not how that works. but they work because of their flaws. that’s a big part of them fitting together. martin represented the humanity they were saving, with all his good and bad. jon was well beyond that, and while that doesn’t inherently compromise his character, it does mean he’s viewed in a much different light.

(meaning i think jon’s sins are seen very very different to martin’s.) (to be clear i think both deserve to be looked at critically, but hating either of them devoutly seems sort of silly.)

i’m not sure how you can listen to tma and all the ways it dissects and reflects on humanity and turn around and run blogs or make posts in the fandom about how you hate one of the main characters for being all of that.

jon never would’ve made it through without martin, even if martin wasn’t the key to everything, he was the reason to push through and not give up. martin is why jon didn’t go full monster mode, why he held onto who he was and his humanity, even with the whole ‘kill bill’ thing. martin gave him a reason to keep going, to try, to care so deeply. obviously there were other factors but jon says it himself, martin you are my reason.

if you can’t handle the fact that martin isn’t a grade a soft boy by the end of the show that’s a lot more about you than it is about him. he grew and maybe not always for the better but he could be a real person for jon instead of some kind of mirror or blank slate to be reflected on. i genuinely don’t understand how he can be misunderstood so deeply.

they’re both fucked up ! and if they are alive Somewhere Else you bet your ass they’re having long talks and going to therapy and fighting and making up and pacing the floors and figuring it all out together. it isn’t clean or easy or necessarily enjoyable all the time, but humanity isn’t either, love isn’t either. they went through unimaginable trauma, and expecting either of them to be holding it together any better than they already are is wild. context, it’s important. but let’s not turn multi-dimensional characters into flat one word answers.

it’s very human to like and dislike, love and hate based off of bias and experiences and perspective. but also opinion does not make fact. everything is relative, everything is subjective, everything everything everything. it’s an open discussion yada yada idk i’m just screaming into the wall about all the nonsense.

and beyond all of that, discourse is so useless. criticism and constructive conversations are really really important but discourse is pointless! oh you ship these people? well that inherently threatens my ship! oh you like this character that i hate? well that makes me feel invalid for hating them. like what you like, hate what you hate, have your feelings. but if you post shit on the internet you will get people who disagree, sorry, that’s how it is. partaking in little arguments over who is right or wrong when it doesn’t actually have to do with anything harmful or unhealthy makes no sense though. posting on the internet about all the hate you have in your heart when the world is already so full of it doesn’t actually do anything but add more bad to an already very large pile of bad.

things can be discussions not arguments sometimes, i promise. it’s not always tooth and nail, and let’s not forget, most of it is over things that never need to be fought over.

[her-favorite]

♡ madison beer ♡

the night was more ruthless than the day.

everything went wrong today. you had woken up by multiple messages from your coworker since you had slept past your alarm, you were barely ready when heading out the door, your boss decided it’d be a great idea to take all of his own problems out on you by giving you the worst work load, and on top of that, you had to stay late to finish it all.

but, now, as you lay in bed, eyes closed, sleep was the one thing you couldn’t reach, despite desperately needing it.

tossing and turning, the irritation slowly fading to dejection, you lie hopeless. a deep exhale leaves your lips as your eyes flutter open, staring up at the ceiling. today was the longest day you’ve had in awhile, so why isn’t your body letting you rid yourself of it? it’s like it knows how badly you wish to forget this, despite its own restraint to allow you to.

a fleeting thought passes by you as you lay awake: madison.

you knew your girlfriend was currently on tour, but you’ve expressed more often than not how much you miss her. the two of you text everyday, whether it’s a good morning message or something quick to let the other know how your day was going. today, you hadn’t gotten the chance. the day’s problems had hit you so fast, you hadn’t even been able to take a second to even collect your thoughts, let alone text your girlfriend.

reaching your hand over to your nightstand, you immediately unlock it and bring it closer to your face. biting on your bottom lip, you hover your finger over her contact. it was so late. your eyes flicker to the time on the top of your screen: 3:02 am. would she even be awake? what if she was trying to get sleep for her next performance?

letting out another sigh, you rest your head back against your pillow. so many restless nights without madison had taken a toll on you. when she was around, she’d have you out like a light. you never understood how it was so easy for you to fall asleep so fast when with her at night, but over time you realized that it might tie into the fact that you’ve grown so comfortable and safe around her. madison has always had such a calming presence to her - she’s always been gentle, no matter the situation. it was something you greatly admired about her and you’re only now realizing how much you’ve relied on it.

with one last intake of breath, you decided to bite the bullet and click on the call button beneath her contact. staring at the screen, you anxiously wait for something to change. it rings a few times before it connects. “baby? what’s wrong?” madison’s voice comes through your phone’s speaker, instantly relaxing you. your body seems to loosen as you lean all of your weight back against the mattress.

“nothing, just.. can’t fall asleep.” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes. even though they stung with exhaustion, the hours you spent trying to go to bed always failed.

your ears picked up on the way she hummed softly. there was light rustling in the background, as if she shifting her weight on her bed in her tour bus. the thought made you come out of your daze.

“m’sorry if i woke you, mads. i didn’t - ”

“mm, no,” she mumbles, sleep seeping through her tone. her voice was low, a little raspy and it made goosebumps erupt on your skin. “don’t apologize, sweet girl. i always wanna talk to you.” madison says. it was like she tries melting your heart. “can i facetime you?” she asks. instantly, you agree.

your lips curl up tiredly as soon as her face pops up on your screen. her face was bare of makeup, her hair a little messy from tossing around in bed and, oh, she’s never looked better. how someone can be just as breathtaking - if not more - like this was something that never made sense to you. she was utterly perfect, in every sense of the word.

“there’s my pretty girl.” madison hums, making your cheeks heat up as your smile widens. she giggles softly at your bashful reaction before laying her head back down on the fluffy pillow beneath her. “close your eyes, okay? ‘m’gonna be right here.” she coos gently. it immediately relaxed you.

following her soft orders, your eyes flutter shut after you prop the phone up beside you. getting comfortable, your head loosens it’s tense position, as well as the rest of the muscles in your body. your breathing evens out as you listen to the soft hum from madison, a gentle, almost angelic - scratch that, it was angelic, her voice always is - sound coming from her pretty pink lips. she always knew her singing soothed you.

only after a few minutes had sleep consumed you. madison didn’t know how tired you were, but to her, it was evident how much you needed it. and she was glad to see you out so quickly with her help - it always made her feel special that she can assist you in that way, despite you always making her feel special anyway.

“goodnight, baby.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

requested!

my motivation’s been rocky (when is it not) so ive been pretty inconsistent with posting/requests lately, im so sorry!! :(( but i got a little bit today & got a nessa fic out andd this cute little blurb! hope you guys like it & ily!! <3

also usually my blurbs are shorter, but i kinda ran a little with this request bc it was too cute lol - also im too lazy to add tags </3

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[wittlesissyb4by]

Sweetie Todd

Men are soo desperate. It’s honestly a bit too easy. Do you know how many virgin losers I have at my disposal? They will do anything they can, just for a picture of my tits, anything for a bit of female attention. Take this little fairy for example. He dm’d me on Insta only a few weeks back.

‘Hey I like your pics.’ He said, ‘any way I can see you with the clothes off? 😏’

In the past, I would kick these pervs to the curb. Block, ignore, sometimes even report. But some were so desperate they actually offered to pay me. Just for a pic of my nips or even my feet. At first I declined, but times are tough, and a girl’s gotta eat, right?

So I let them. I’d let them cashapp me in exchange for a pic or two. It felt kind of dirty, but I told myself girls will do much worse for much less.

But they kept asking for more, instead of appeasing them, they kept asking for more. The money came in, sure, but I would quickly run out of content if I indulged them with every transaction. There's only so many ways to take a tit pic, and I refuse to subject myself to much more than that.

I quickly learned that if I strung them along, they would become even more desperate. One guy started to annoy me, becoming particularly pushy, so I told him to go fuck himself. Tell me why he literally sent me a video of him shoving a dildo up his ass less than 24 hours later?! It was gross, but that got me thinking...

If he was willing to do that just to see a pic of me, what else could I make these desperate little dorks do?

I told a guy to eat cat food, told another to fuck the crease of the couch cushions, even suggested to another that he stick his head in doo doo he found at the dog park.

They all did it. Every. Single. One. And they even paid me for the privilege!!

When I posted a video of a guy slamming a baseball bat between his legs and thanking me with every bash of his balls, the messages really started flooding in.

Men everywhere were begging to be dominated and, I'm not gonna lie, I kinda liked it. The attention was nice, my followers grew exponentially, and the money was pouring in. I didn't even have to show my tits anymore, just had to tell them to shove a tampon up their ass and keep it in for the rest of the day.

Virgin after pathetic virgin started subbing.

Eventually, my little 'tasks' for them became more and more devious. Buying and wearing a pair of panties was too easy. I wanted the full ensemble, and I wanted them to walk through their favorite sports bar with it on.

Some checked out at that point, but others, the most dedicated and desperate, stayed.

Then, I found it. One sub was being particularly whiney, so I suggested he go buy a pack of Depends diapers for being such a baby. He did, and it was the most hilarious thing I've ever seen. A grown man wearing nothing but a diaper and sucking on his thumb is truly a sight to see! Even better when you make them squat down and shit themselves. Even the most dedicated were absolutely broken at that point. It reduces them to nothing. I've taken control of everything at that point, all the way down to when and wear they use the bathroom. Yes, they now have to beg me (pay me) to poop their pampers. They have to pay extra if they want to cum, and they don't get to change their filthy diaper before they do.

This picture you see is of Todd. He's an investment banker. Todd originally messaged me for pictures of my feet and maybe a little domination here or there, I don't really remember. At this point, I don't really care. He got put through the ringer just like the rest of them. I do specifically remember him throwing a fit when he first had to wear the diaper. Or 'nappy', as he calls it, because apparently that's how they say it in Britain where he's from.

He told me 'no' at first. Said he'd never do it. That he was 'too much of a man' for that.

"Okay." was all I said, and left it at that.

Two weeks later, he'd sent me a pic of the nappies he bought. That's another thing I've learned too: when you push a guy's limits, he may resist at first, but eventually the horny/submissive brain always wins. They will do anything to please. Anything for a little attention.

But Todd didn't get to just wear diapers, no no. His dumbass tried to tell me he's 'too much of a man'. So now he gets to wear nothing but frilly dresses when he's at home. I randomly send check-ins to ensure he's doing as he's told. If not, he's punished. It's easy to get them to do what I want, because every day I just accrue more and more pictures/videos to blackmail them with if they refuse.

Todd got to suck his first dick the other day at some random truck stop! He swears up and down that he's not gay--and I actually believe him--but I also don't care. It's way too entertaining to see diaper dorks suck a dick for baby batter and thank me for it while they gargle it in their mouth.

One of my subs also let me in on a little thing called a 'chastity device', so guess what Todd will be putting on and sending me the key to? I'm sure he'll earn it back at some point. Three, maybe six months from now, I'll mail it back to him. If he's a good baby gurl, that is...

~~~~~~~~

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[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

Purgatory

warnings// SMUTTT, fluff with some angst, little bit of Sam bashing (not really but Y/N isn't his biggest fan in this one)

lil summary// based on events in Season 9 Episode 1 with my own spin on it

Dean x reader

word count// 2740

(gif from Pinterest)

You felt like you were going crazy, it's been almost a year since you lost Dean, you didn't even know if he was still alive but you would never stop looking until you found him… or his body. Sam never even tried... his excuse "dean and I made a promise" you tried to argue but he didn't want to hear it.

It only got harder each day, you weren't any closer to finding him today than you were six months ago, you tried to keep in contact with Kevin but Sam wouldn't return your calls so you had no idea what was happening to him. You tried to look for him but all you really wanted to do was find your boyfriend. That's all you wanted and the hope that you would was fading with each passing day.

It was like any other day you got up at 5am after a quick three hour Power Nap to continue your search. You poured some cereal and sat down on you laptop looking for anything that could relate to the man that was Dean Winchester. You moved to your search board in Bobbys cabin’s living room trying to connect any dots that could bring you closer to him. You couldn't help feeling more and more defeated when you couldn't find anything. You sighed taking a seat on the couch rubbing your temples trying to stop the tears from falling.

————————————————————————————————————————————————

Your head snapped up as the door started to open, you grabbed your gun and aimed it at the door ready for what was about to walk in.

"Dean?!" You cried out, you threw your gun to the side and tan to hug him. He caught you straight away wrapping his arms tightly around you "it's me, I'm back sweetheart" his voice muffled as he spoke against your neck. You pull back from the hug slightly to really look at him taking in his presence "it's really you" you cried, you hands cupping the sides of his face "it's really me baby, but I know you gotta do the tests, so let's do them and we can talk about where I was for the year…" dean said his hands tightly holding your hips as close to him as possible. 

You smiled up at him. not letting go of him "I don't need to do the tests, I know it's you" you pulled him down towards you, crashing your lips against his. Dean reciprocated immediately, his hands ran down your body squeezing your ass making you moan, he grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you up. You wrapped your legs tightly around his hips moaning when his Jean clad bulge pressed against your aching core "mmm bedroom dean" you mumbled against hips lips not wanting to break the kiss as his tongue invaded your mouth in a familiar kiss 

Dean didn't say anything as he continued the kiss, he just walked towards the bedroom you'd taken home in, he threw you to the bed making you squeal, he shrugged off his tan flannel and grey undershirt leaving his sculpted chest bare, you shrugged off your own shirt leaving you in just a black lace bra. Dean kicked off his jeans leaving him in just a pair of black boxer shorts before getting on top of you, pulling your lips back into the heated kiss "god it's been so fucking long" you whisper against his lips "damn right it has sweetheart, we gotta make up for lost time" dean mumbled as he loved kisses down your neck before reaching your chest "gotta get rid of this first" dean rold you before he ripped your bra off, displaying you perky breasts to him

Dean groaned before rushing forward sucking harsh marks over your chest making you squirm under him, you ran your fingers through his short hair holding him close as he he left his marks down your chest to your abdomen not stopping until he was at the waistline of your pants "lift your hips sweetheart" dean told you, rubbing his rough hands up to your waistline 

You did as you were told and lifted your hips allowing dean to pull your pants and panties down in one swift pull. He placed his hands on the inside of your thighs and you clenched around nothing as you grew wetter by every second. Dean spread your legs apart making you let out an airy moan as the cool air hit your wet core "dean please, I need you so fucking bad baby" you begged tugging for him to come back up to you "we have all the time in the world for foreplay, but right now... I just need you inside me" 

Dean bit his lip harshly in need. He took off his underwear throwing it to the other side of the room letting his big hard cock spring free. "Crap I don't have a condom, is there any left from last time" dean asked as he wandered his hand down your core before inserting his finger inside your wet hole thrusting it inside you, moaning as you clenched around him "i- oh god, I think they ex-oh fuck Dean please. Expired!" you cried out when he added another his pace never stopping "risk it?" Dean asked, his magical fingers never stopping 

You nodded quickly "I've waited a year, I can't wait another day" dragging him back into a heated kiss as your legs wrapped tightly around his bare hips, gasping sharply when his hard cock pressed against your soaked opening "I can't wait either sweetheart" dean slowly pushed his tip inside making you wince slightly "you okay? Need time to stop?" Dean asked quickly. 

Shaking your head you wrapped your arms tighter around the back of his neck "I'm okay baby... I just it's been a year since we last were, well you know... together... intimately" dean chuckled before pressing a gentle kiss on your lips staring softly  into your eyes "you waited for me?"

Staring back at him tilting your head with a confused smile "of course I did. Baby I haven't stopped looking for you... not even for a damn day". Dean rubbed his hands up and own your smooth thighs, his eyes filled with not just lust but with something else "i... i ... I love you Y/N, so fucking much" you eyes filled with tears while holding back sobs... you've waited years for dean to say that "I love you too De". Dean crashed forward once more crashing his plump lips hard against yours, tangling his tongue with your’s as his hand guided his cock to push deeper inside of you, making you let out a loud moan against his lips 

"Oh fuck- that feels so fucking good" you cried out pushing your feet against the top of his ass to keep him nestled deep inside of your warm pussy. "You ready?" Dean asked against your lips, a single line of mixed spit keeping them attached as you let out an airy "yeah" 

Deans hands gripped your hips tightly, he pulled his hips back almost all the way before thrusting his cock inside you hard. "YES!" You screamed urging him to continue his movements, slamming his hips against yours continuously "you feel so fucking good. Could live in this sweet pussy" dean confessed slamming against you once more. You screamed in pleasure as his pelvic bone rubbed against your swollen clit, "please go faster" you begged, Dean obligated moving your legs so they rest over his shoulders allowing him to penetrate you faster and deeper, drawing out screams from your sweet mouth with every thrust,

"I'm not gonna last baby" dean groaned, his hips never stopping "me either" you cried out out taking deep breaths as your body chased its high. Deans hand made its way up your body, making sure to grope your sweat coated breast before moving up to your throat, he wrapped his hand lightly around it, only applying a small amount of pressure but it was enough to make your eyes roll as your orgasm hit your body in fast waves as you screamed his name. 

Dean groaned loudly  as his cock stilled inside of you, spurting out hot white stripes of cum against your walls. He lay his head against the crook of your sweaty neck his soft cock still inside you as you both tried to get your breathing back under control. You scratched your fingers through his slightly longer than usual hair “I know we jumped the gun a little by jumping… well into bed, but I’m so happy your back home. I have no idea how I survived that year without you…” you smiled down at him “I’m here now sweetheart, and I’m not going anywhere again” dean promised before giving you a more gentle kiss on your swollen lips. 

Dean pulled out of you gently making you let out a low gasp. Dean rolled over your body so he was laid beside you, he wrapped his arm around you before pulling you to lay against his bare chest “oh I missed this so fucking much” you confessed, your finger tracing his anti possession tattoo, something you’ve always done after sex. “Me too sweetheart. Hey where’s Sammy? I haven’t heard anyone walking around here since I got in, I’m thinking he snuck out when he saw us head into the bedroom” dean chuckled,

You face grew hot at the mention of sam, it’s not like you hated him, he’s your boyfriends brother and you loved him like a brother… but you seen a different side to him after this, a side you didn’t know if you could forgive “dean listen I-” you tried to say before the door opening and closing for your attention “ah there, he’s back” dean said moving forward slightly taking you with him before throwing on a pair of pants and his undershirt leaving his flannel for you

You put on deans flannel and your panties  from earlier to cover yourself. Dean grabbed your hand  gently tugging  you into the living room to see the taller Winchester stood awkwardly “Sammy!” Deans gruff voice called pulling his younger brother into a big hug  “it’s good to see you man” Sam swallowed thickly as they pulled back from the hug “it’s good seeing you too dean. I mean I can’t believe your freaking alive! What the hell happened to you” Sam exclaimed. 

“Well standing to close to that exploding bastard dragged me to where he went… we’ll not just him, all monsters” dean shrugged, you turned to look at him you face twisted in shock and fear “w-what?” Dean wrapped his arm around you waist tugging you against him “it doesn’t matter now. All that maters is I’m back” 

“Dean, you were in purgatory for a whole year?” You asked, your voice breaking as you felt you cheat tighten with sadness and guilt “yeah, I guess times flies when your running for your life” he joked, but you didn’t find it funny. You pulled away from his embrace and took a seat on the worn couch, you put you head in you hands and sighed “oh god, I should have looked harder, I should have thought of fucking purgatory… I-I” dean cut you off kneeling in front of you “Y/N, you guys we’re trying to look for me- hell if the shoe was on the other foot I wouldn’t have thought about purgatory either but you and Sammy-” 

“Dean listen… we gotta talk” Sam stood scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Dean turned to give Sam a look of confusion, still not moving from his place in front of you “talk about what Sammy?” 

Sam sighed awkwardly “it’s fine Sam, just leave it” you tried to stop him, you knew Dean would only be hurt by what his younger brother had done “leave what? What the hell happened Sam?”dean stood up, walking towards Sam confused “nothing happened Dean real-” 

“I left the life dean” Sam interrupted. Dean looked between you both, his facial expressions unreadable “you left… as in you didn’t look for me?” Sam swallowed hard looking at his brother, “no, I quit the life” you closed your eyes not wanting to be here for this, but there was nowhere for you to go do you just stayed sat on the couch silent tears rolling down your face 

“What do you mean you quit the life? So you just decided to turn your back on the family business!” Dean demanded his voice raising slightly. Sam let out a dry chuckle “well nothing says family like the whole family being dead” 

Dean slammed his hands on the table making you jump at the bang “I wasn’t dead Sam. I wasn’t fighting for my damn life everyday for a goddam year” dean yelled. You knew this could get ugly so decided to try and stop it as quickly as possible  “dean…” you rubbed your hand across his back the soothe his tense muscles 

“Dean I thought I saw you die. Hunting is what got every single member of my family killed. I had no one left-” your head snapped around to the younger Winchester “oh that’s not true and you know it! I tried to get you to help me Sam. I wanted your help for  crying out loud!” You cried out “sam I tried so hard to get you to help me right up until you stopped answering all your phones. I was the one who was alone, I didn’t even know what was happening with Kevin because you stopped answering me” you yelled pointed your finger at yourself to emphasise your words 

Deans face grew harder  as your confession went on “I’m gonna take a walk before I do something I might regret” dean muttered angrily before storming out of the cabin

“Y/N, I’m-” Sam tried to talk but you didn’t want to hear it “just don’t… don’t talk to me, I have absolutely nothing to say to you” you told him with a harsh tone before hiding away in your room. 

————————————————————————————————————————————————

You tried to wait up for Dean but by the third hour you had cried yourself to sleep, this day was the most draining you’ve had in a long time. It wasn’t all bad though, you got the love of your life back today.

You stirred to the sound of the door creaking open, a blinding light entering the room. “Dean? Is that you?” You mumbled tiredly “yeah it’s me sweetheart… I’m sorry for taking off earlier I just… I needed some space away from Sam before I took his damn head off” dean grumbled as he kicked his shoes off before hoping into the bed, pulling you tightly against him. You curled against him, wrapping your leg tightly around his hips “dean, don’t fight with your brother because of this please. He was hurting too and he just… he had a bad way of coping” you told him straining your neck up to look at him 

He let out a deep sigh “I know, I just- I would never do that do that to him… and he left you, the one thing I asked him to do was look after you if anything ever happened to me but he couldn’t even do that.” You smiled against his chest “you know I can take care of myself baby” deans arms tightened around you as he closed his eyes a small smile playing on his plump lips  “I know you can baby, I just don’t want you to ever have to. You’re my girlfriend, it’s my job to protect you, no matter what” 

You leaned up and pressed a loving kiss on his lips, deans hand moved to the back of your head, keeping you as close as possible for the small kiss. Dean was the first to pull back, his deep green eyes staring down at you softly “I love you sweetheart” you smiled giving his lips one more peck before pulling back “I love you too Dean, I’m so happy to have  back home with me” you told him as you cuddled into his side once again, holding on to him as tightly as you possible could, hoping that it wasn’t all a dream, and when you wake up he’ll still be there, next to you, holding you.

-----

Hiiii, so I'm having thoughts of a series rewrite Season 1-15 with Dean x reader what are we thinking.... also I'm thinking of wishful thinking part 2, i wasn't initially planning to do so but I've had a lot of people requesting so is that something you guys would like to see?

ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES, I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST. REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED THANK YOU FOR SUPPORTING.

[absolutelyzoned]

sobbing in front of the mirror head in hands gripping the vanity ROACHH.. AAUUGHHH.. sniffle snif RROAACHHH sob GARY ROACH SANDERSON WAAHHHH sniffle sob WAAHHHHHHH bashes my head against the wall

[howtotrainabraincell]

Greetings my fellow AC mutual!!!

Lately I have been reading all your canon posts here and may I say that I love them all. You have created amazing canons here. I'm feeling extra romantic so here's an idea: how would the Assassins, including Templars, feel on their wedding day? The before, during and after the wedding. You can choose all of them or a few of them.

Please and thank you 😊🙏 and have a wonderful day today.

Sure thing! This is a cute one!!

A/N: I may not have put it in each one, but they will respect their wife's wishes to not be intimate on their wedding night (whether it be fear or being exhausted from the festivities). But...I mean come on. Who wouldn't want to have a wedding night with any of them?

ALSO, there may be multiple parts to this bc there's A LOT I got going on in this mind of mine when it comes to this lot getting married...

Jacob Frye

Before:

You know this man will have his Rooks there lolll they'll be throwing the biggest loudest bash London has ever seen in honor of their Boss getting hitched. He just might make Greenie his best man (he teases the man to the ninth realm and back but they're good buddies for real).

Jacob takes this seriously. He's still his wonderfully goofy and chaotic self but he takes certain aspects of marriage more seriously. He wants her to know that he'll be good to her, he'll protect her with his life, and he'll love her even after he dies. He also takes setting up a home for her seriously. The man isn't for anything lavish and she isn't either (her cozy non-materialistic ways are something that majorly attracted Jacob to her - high key don't think he'd like somebody who was materialistic, as happiness is in life not things) but he wants to set up a nice little place for them to call 'home' together. A place where they can be together as husband and wife and hopefully have a handful of little rooks running around one day. A place that's theirs and theirs alone.

During:

He thinks she looks beautiful in her wedding dress (he bet she looks even better out of it tho...PFFT). He'll never admit to it, but his eyes began to sting at the sight of her - and of course he wasn't rubbing the tears from his eyes throughout the ceremony! He just had something in his eyes...

He's very genuine and sweet when he recites his wedding vows 'In sickness and in health, etc.' to you, both of you having decided to save the personal vows for each other privately. (Heads up Jacob cried when he read her letter of vows and promises to him, he couldn't believe how sweet it was. Man was legit sitting there thinking 'How'd I get such a wonderful wife?'). He genuinely cannot believe that he found a wife who loves and accepts him for him. Rest assured that any insecurities Jacob has before they marry will soon be gone because his wife loves him the way he's always deserved.

Once the marital vows are said and done, they move on to the exchange of rings...and that's when the tears start.

Jacob knows that she isn't materialistic and that she doesn't need a fancy ring to know that he loves her, but he thinks she deserves it, and he has just thing in mind. Something that compliments her eyes because they're one of his top favorite (and he has a lot lol) things about her. Something that reflects the joy in her eyes when she laughs, the smile crinkles she's developed from years of managing to laugh through her struggles, and the swirls of color. Jacob would definitely enlist the help of his big sister in finding a ring for his soon to be wife and does.she.come.through. When it comes time for the ring exchange, he's pleasantly surprised to find that she put just as much thought into his ring as he did hers.

Both are engraved with confessions of their love for one another and intricately designed to match the spouse they were made for.

After:

He would enjoy the celebration, and it would be planned and based off of how his wife feels about such celebrations. Jacob being a bit more extroverted is likely to enjoy socializing and having a big get together - and if his wife is the same way then great! But if she's more introverted and can only take so much he's whisking her away, so she doesn't get stressed out. I actually think that he would want to be alone with his new wife and not just for *wink wink* but he wants some alone time to just have a slow moment with her. He would enjoy the celebration his Rooks put together for them and she thinks it's so sweet that they went all out, but as we know Mr. Frye has a tendency to act rashly when he becomes impatient. Next thing you know, he's scooping his wife up without a care in the world and carrying her off with a grin five miles wide, her face the exact replica of a tomato as she clings to him, and the Rooks cheering them goodbye as Jacob carries her off.

If she's afraid of the wedding night activities this man is instantly comforting her assuring her that he doesn't expect anything, he would never hurt her, and he'll wait for her. If she's tired? He is too honestly (he does have a lot of energy, but I imagine when he's alone he just OOF crashes but doesn't want anyone to see it. I mean he does have a full-time job annoying Evie ofc lol what else are baby brothers for?) so cuddling and going to sleep together is just fine with him. But if she wants him - tired or not - he'll give her everything he's got and then some.

Do I need to go into Jacob's wedding night? I mean... it's Jacob. The man lives to serve and please. And please he does...

Bayek of Siwa (I included him bc he legit started it all technically a Hidden One but potato pitatoh)

Before: This man is joyful on his wedding day. He's so excited to marry her and spend their days together. Whether this is after his divorce from Aya or we're not going with cannon and it's his first marriage - this man wants to be a husband, he is husband material. He can't wait to pledge himself to her before the gods and dedicate his life to loving her. He can't wait for her to be his wife HOWEVER - If we're going with cannon he was rejected when he proposed to Aya, so he has some understandable hesitancy when he proposes to his love. Can you blame him? He really loved the one he proposed to the first time and got shot down poor guy. It's the second time he's proposed in this life, and he does not make the mistake of thinking that just because they're in love that she'll say yes. He made that mistake before, and it felt like a knife to the gut.

BUT - If we're going with head cannon... this time he found himself a woman who was ecstatic to be proposed to by him (and I mean literally ecstatic like she tackled him in happiness making him laugh his ass off before she showered him in kisses and said yes).

If sticking to cannon he is worried and afraid deep down to remarry. He loves her very much so much in fact he believes that he very well loves her even more than he loved Aya (which like WOW ya know what I'm saying?). But when he's around her all fears and worries are eased and he comes to his senses knowing that he would forever regret not spending the rest of his life with her, now that he's met her and has her in his life.

Headcannon wise he's still a bit scared as being a Medjay is stressful and a known profession in which one is likely to gain enemies (insert middle finger to members of the order of ancients). He worries about her being targeted but he knows that she can take care of herself (she'll make one hell of a Medjay's wife that's for sure LOL). He also fears that it would be selfish to marry her and put her in danger - but upon sharing this fear with her she quickly dismantled his fear. Whether they marry or do not marry, either way - she could possibly be targeted by his enemies, to this he agreed. Then she asserted that it would be better that they face their adversaries together with their love motivating them to eliminate all threats, than to face those who oppose them separately. To this he simply smiled and hugged her tightly melting into her embrace.

During: They didn't really have weddings in Ancient Egypt more so the signing of a binding marriage document, the woman moving into the man's home to live with him as his wife, and then it could/would be followed by a celebration. However...that is Egypt as a whole...not Siwa. Those of us who have seen this beautiful spot in Egypt where beloved Bayek is from, know that it's beautiful and lively (quite frankly a great place to start a family) and you just know that Bayek is from a community that loves him. They're going to throw him and his intended a celebration to end all celebrations.

Hepzefa ISN'T dead I.DON'T.CARE - he's absolutely Bayek's best man.

Bayek in his armor and her in a linen dress covered by a layer of sheer fabric with a lily in her hair, as they get married in the evening when it cools off, the sand unable to burn their feet and the sun unable to glare in their eyes so they can actually look at each other lol. Any fear he had is gone when he sees her at the end of the aisle. They meet each other at the end of the aisle and join arms to walk together toward Hepzefa (who OFC is marrying them obvs). They make their vows before the gods to love, cherish, respect, support and be honest with each other for as long they both live.

After:

Again, if we're sticking to cannon, I think that Bayek would move in with his new wife instead of her moving in with him. A new home and a fresh start with his new wife, is just what this man could use after his arduous journey.

Headcannon however they would move into their own place in Siwa together and work together to make their home everything they dreamed it could be. I HIGHLY believe that he would find a way to make a pond for her filled with water lilies (his nickname for her btw - she's his "beautiful lily").

After a night of dancing, laughter, feasting and sheer happiness they would go home together. They would end the night by sitting on the roof of their new home together watching the Oasis of Siwa from afar, bundled up tightly together in a blanket against the chill air of the Egyptian night. He would point out the different spots of Siwa from they sat, but mostly they would admire the beauty of the moon on the oasis not too far away. They might even go for a swim in the cool waters together, laughing and splashing each other. Tell.me.he doesn't sneak attack her from underwater lloollll. They'd spin around in the water easily with Bayek holding her against him and smiling as she gushes about how much she's enjoyed the day.

I don't think Bayek would make love to her on the banks of the oasis for their first time the man has romantic plans that he plans to woo her with lol. (Later on, in their marriage though...woo!) Rest assured that their first time will be sweet and romantic, he'll make her as comfortable as possible, with pillows everywhere and candlelight guiding their hands within the walls of their home.

Also like the idea of them traveling to Alexandria together and having their honeymoon there. Them exploring the Alexandrian Lighthouse together, the library (shortly before it BURNED DOWN DAMN YOU CAESER), horseback riding through the sand dunes and around the lush greenery near the Nile, going to the markets together and giggling about whatever it is that they find funny, sailing on the Nile together and fishing/gathering reeds for various projects, THEY WOULD CLIMB THE PYRAMIDS TOGETHER CHANGE.MY.MIND.

Evie Frye

Before: Their wedding isn't one that can be celebrated openly but they still have a celebration that is the epitome of love. The two women had both agreed to write their vows for one another and exchange them after the wedding, wanting to keep their promises to each other and words of love just between them.

They couldn't decide on names lol. Evie wanted her last name, and she wanted Evie's last name. But they quickly came up with a solution as they both have brothers. They decided to hyphenate their last names for some extra cover. Evie becomes Mrs. Frye-(L/N) and she becomes Mrs. (L/N)-Frye. That way no one would suspect them being married and if anyone ever asks, Evie married one of her (wife's) brothers and is her "sister-in-law" the same way Jacob is a stand in husband for Evie's wife and she is Evie's "sister-in-law". History will say that they were sisters in law hahaha.

But for real though tell me why they end up calling each other "Mrs" SO MUCH in private (Evie almost forgets that she's a Dame bc she gets called Missus *insert her last name* so much by her wife haha).

During:

Not able to shout their love from the rooftops unfortunately, the couple settles to have a very small and private ceremony. Jacob - who would NEVER breathe a word, Henry who's just happy to see them happy, Ned would probably be there and while Abberline would be SHOOK (I don't care if that word died out like 8 years ago lol it's funny) he would be pleased to know that they've found happiness together.

Tell me why I'm so damn sure that Jacob marries them (he would do that for his sister jokes, loving eye rolls from his big sister and all). They would either get married on the train not too far from the Red Lion where they would go afterward to celebrate, or in Henry's shop (his wedding gift would be lots of various flowers ranging from "everlasting love" to "trust and loyalty").

OR I do have a head cannon that they don't have any witnesses at all. They go up to rooftop facing the Thames and wait for sunrise together with their rings and a basket of goodies they both enjoy. When the sun begins to rise, they make their vows to each other tearfully and very sincerely, pledging the rest of their lives to each other and promising to always be together and love one another. They do this so that they can start the new day together as wives and say what they truly want to one another without an audience. It'll even become tradition years later that they both stay up until sunrise to celebrate their anniversary as the years go on, just the two of them

After:

They do their own wedding presents, and the new Mrs. Frye can't help but giggle at Evie's reaction when she gives her the special edition of her favorite book. I think we can all imagine how ecstatic the loveable bookworm that is Dame Evie Frye would be.

When Evie reads the vows, her new wife has written for her she boo hoos too lol. She can't believe that she's lucky enough to have married such a sweet and wonderful woman. Especially when she thought she would never marry and dedicate her entire life to the Creed.

Something fun the two women embark on together is setting up their home together. Not having been able to have had an open wedding they didn't have wedding showers or receive the traditional wedding gifts; they pick out each piece of their new home together! With how in sync, they are together there is hardly anything they disagree on (unless its Evie's wife trying to get her to stop working herself almost to death...by smooching her to the point where Evie looks like a laughing tomato haha) and their home comes together wonderfully. Everything in their home cozy and a reminder of their love.

It takes Evie a little bit before she finally lets go of the fear that getting married to her love, was nothing more than a wonderful dream. But each morning when she wakes up and either sees her wife next to her sleeping safe and sound, or she wakes to beautiful flowers followed by Mrs. Frye trailing in quietly with a cup of morning tea for her still sleepy wife. Her wife can rest assured that Dame Evie Frye will love her for the rest of their lives.

Altair Ibn La' Ahad

Before: He never thought he would marry or fall in love the way he's fallen in love with her. He's a naturally a confident man, so there's no doubt in his mind that he wants to be her husband and spend the rest of his life with her. There's no doubt...but there is worry. He worries about being a good husband to her in terms of giving her a safe stable home due to being an assassin and he knows that he can be...emotionally stunted, but he plans to correct that and never leave her wondering if he loves her. Because he does with his whole being. After all, if she can help pull him out of his younger arrogant ways, by gently and patiently telling him why he's wrong without criticizing him, then she can do anything.

During: His worries are vanquished when he sees her. He immediately knows that come what may, they'll be alright so long as they're together. He can't stop looking at her during the wedding, making her blush as he smiles at her (surprising the hell out of Malik lol bc the 'tHe nOvICe cAn SmILe?') As they take their vows a few cheeky looks are given here and there the pair obviously checking each other out, (insert Malik gagging like a goof). Altair can't get over how she looks like an otherworldly being with her beauty unmatched by anyone or anything. She can't get over how handsome and gallant he looks in his robes, with his hood down (GASP), his sword at his side as his thumbs rub the backs of her hands. (But with the hood thing he's never had anything to hide, he just wants to show his face and let everyone know that he's marrying her and that he's proud to be her husband. He's a very proud husband haha). When they seal their new union with a kiss, he bends down to pick her up and hold her tightly making her laugh. They both can't stop smiling, completely and utterly happy and excited to start the rest of their life together.

After: He would bring her jasmine and a few Damasks roses - they're nowhere near as beautiful as he thinks she is but the sweetness of each flower reminds him of her - in a neatly gathered bushel and loves the smile it brings to her face. He doesn't care about having a wedding night, he just wants to be with his wife and love on her in whatever manner she wishes. Sitting there and watching the stars over Masyaf or Jerusalem (depending on when/where they get married) If she wants to lay there with him and relax, he's happy to hold her and do just that. But if she wants him to take her...her mind will be blown at just how loving her new husband can be...

Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway

Before: He's worried about being a good husband. Very worried. He wants to be a wonderful husband to her, as wonderful as she is to him. He loves her with everything he has of course and would defend her with his life. But he was so focused on his mission to take the Templar order down, to get justice for his mother, so focused on his rage...that despite how much he loves her, he wonders if he can pull himself out of the dark mindset that he was in for so long to treat her the way she deserves. He will try but he still worries. He doesn't want to be angry (never at her keep in mind - about life in general) his entire life. Her kisses and presence helps though, more than she'll ever understand. He wants to be there for her as much as she's been there for him, through thick and thin, no matter what.

During: Feel like there would be two weddings for the couple. A colonial one (planned by the Homestead for the happy couple) and a traditional Mohawk wedding (planned by the Clan mother who is so excited to see him getting married), a wedding to honor both his and her culture. He stands like a statue clasping his hands in front of him patiently, eager, and nervously until he sees her. Cheesy as it is... the sight of her brings him peace. He can't even wait for her to make it to the altar, making his way to her down the aisle in a few long strides to meet her with a smile. They walk down the aisle together arm in arm and hands intertwined, unable to contain their excitement.

After: He can't stop staring at his wedding ring and smiling at it. Typically, the Mohawk people did not exchange wedding rings until modern times, but he loves his and what it represents. The eternal love and union he and his wife will share. His face hurts from smiling so much, but he doesn't mind it a bit. Now as for the wedding night... I think he would be very shy at first. Terrified of hurting her because he's very aware of the fact that he's massive and intimidates a lot of people. He would never do that to her. Being with her is honestly really enough for him, the emotional intimacy the two share is what made him so sure about making her his wife. The newlyweds would work their way up into sex slowly, getting a little closer each time and accompanied by lots of reassurance and soft laughter. And when they finally got it, the assassin and his wife had never felt more complete in their lives. He makes love in plenty of other ways though - mostly through his thoughtfulness and observation which leads to anticipation. He always knows what she needs before she even asks and he's always happy to help.

Their mornings start off with him usually waking first and realizing that marrying her wasn't a dream. He'll watch her sleeping peacefully in his arms, and then inspect their fingers where their wedding bands lie and realize that it's real. They got married. He's married to this wonderful woman. She's, his wife. Before he can begin to spiral in excitement he leans down and scoops her closer to him, burying his face in her neck which makes her laugh softly.

Venturing outside together to enjoy nature and do various outdoor activities, playful banter and pairing up to hunt together and scavenge. He'll look over and see her helping him with a fresh kill or scavenging other items and become overwhelmed with the desire to kiss her out of nowhere. Needless to say, lots of love and laughter fills the lives of Ratonhnhake:ton and his wife.

Henry Green/Jayadeep Mir

Before: He's happy and so ready to be her husband. He's admitted to himself that he's liked her from their first meeting, but he's loved her almost as long (which is not long at all because he fell for her quick). I don't know why but I can imagine that Jacob might try to do the whole "you know how the wedding night works right?" talk with him much to Henry's horror haha. He gently assures the younger Frye that he does in fact know what to do on his wedding night with his wife, if she'll have him. Don't worry though! The man is from India the birthplace of Kama Sutra...he knows what to do. Trust him.

During: Whether she wears the usual white dress or chooses to honor his culture by wearing traditional Indian bridal clothes, this man will be emotional. Guaranteed his eyes will begin to water when he sees how beautiful the woman he loves is, walking down the aisle to him. When they take each other's hands, he can't help the goosebumps of excitement he gets thinking about how lucky he feels to be marrying such a woman. He'll never understand how he got her to agree to marry him (despite being charming have a head cannon that his charm goes out the window when it comes to proposing to her lol he was so nervous that she would say no!) but he'll never forsake her or take her for granted. Perish the thought!

After: Get ready for a very fun honeymoon! Traveling together and studying each place you go, learning fun facts and the history behind the cultures. I think he would be so excited to show her around where he grew up and tell her stories (the happier ones) from his childhood. I also think that Mr. Green would be eager to prove that his intelligence is more than just the book variety...

Shay Patrick Cormac

Before: He's excited. But also, nervous. So nervous. He's aware that the type of life he leads isn't the safest or the most routine/regular thing a man can do. But you can bet that he'll be damned if he doesn't give his all to be a good husband to her. A worry that runs through his mind is dying at sea on the Morrigan and leaving her widowed and alone. He noticeably goes on less voyages after they marry only going when it's necessary. Depending on when they get married, he may still be traveling around on Templar/Shay way business - but either way whether he's close to retirement or still working, he wants to settle down with her. He plans to create a nice home for her, take care of her, love her, and have a handful of beautiful babies that he'll love almost as much as he loves her.

During: The moment he lifts her veil from her face he can't take his eyes off of her. Literally. The only time he does is to briefly and gently slide the ring onto her finger, otherwise he's smiling and staring at her like a lovesick puppy lol. He's so busy admiring his bride that Haytham with a smirk on his face gently clears his throat reminding Shay that the time to seal his new union has come. When the Irish captain realizes what the Grandmaster is saying the man blushes in slight embarrassment, and you bet he turns right around and kisses his new wife. The pair laughs as those invited applaud in celebration, but they're in their own world together.

After: After the wedding he'll take her to his home (read: their home that he hopes she loves) in New York so they can be alone together, in more ways than one. Their home will definitely know what love is when they're there together. He's a go go go kind of man as we've all seen but he's slow and gentle with her and if she finds herself too tired to celebrate in a more intimate way, she better get ready for the best cuddle session of her life. However, if she does find herself in need of her husband...let's just say that he's Captain of more than the Morrigan... Tell me why the idea of him untying his wife's corset is very erotic... Once they start married life together this man is taking her on the Morrigan (if she wants to go that is if not, he has plenty of other fun things in mind...) and sailing her to wherever she wants to go. I imagine she would choose Ireland to learn about where her husband's family came from, and Shay would love showing her around his place of origin.

Haytham Kenway

Before: He's composed in public ever the austere Grandmaster.... but a mess in private. He can't stop fidgeting with his cravat, pulling at his sleeves, straightening his coat. He looks absolutely handsome, but he knows that he won't hold a candle to his angel of a wife - who he DEFINITELY peeked at lol. You telling me this man didn't try to go to talk to her before the wedding because he missed her, and he doesn't stop short by the crack in the door, dumbfounded by how beautiful she looks? His face will be redder than his vest. With how in love with her he is, he feels less the confident Templar, and more so a little boy in very deep love. He's so happy that he gets to marry his love and spend his life with her, just the sight of her alone helps him to calm down and realize: he's marrying the love of his life.

During:

When he sees her coming down the aisle to him, he forgets how to breathe for a moment. The majority of the ceremony is spent exchanging loving gazes, gentle hand squeezes and him trying not to pass out. She notices how flustered he seems and reaches up to gently cup his face for no one's benefit but his. Needless to say, it helps to calm him significantly.

He can't believe how beautiful she is and how he got her to agree to marry him. Haytham doesn't say it in his vows, but he'll give her the world and more and always take care of her. With this man I have a feeling that actions speak louder than words (I mean did you see how he got rizzed by Ziio LOL everyone thought HE would woo HER, but she BAMBOOZLED him). He may not speak what he's feeling, and she may have to play fill in the blanks sometimes when he becomes overwhelmed by his emotions (cue him being very grateful for her patience), but with her complete agreement he's more than happy to show her in a deep kiss or something a bit more husbandly...

When they're pronounced husband and wife he steps forward while the officiant is still speaking and kisses her with abandon. The Grandmaster is thrown out the window for the moment and the lovestruck man comes out much to his new wife's delight. He embraces her tightly never wanting to let her go and his arms sweep her up in quick spin that makes her squeak in laughter as his own grin spreads across his face.

He would spoil.her.rotten come the wedding and wedding presents.

After:

The celebration would be a grand one and last long into the night. Shay swears upon the Morrigan that he'll knock Hickey's lights out if he gets pissed and starts to cause a ruckus LOOOLL. Haytham is a good dancer, but he doesn't like to make a spectacle of himself, for his new bride however he'll get out there and dance with her feeling absolute contentment in knowing that of all the men in the room that could have her in their arms he has her instead. He enjoys watching her have fun, and every time she finds him in the room and smiles at him while she's dancing, the man swears to the gods that his heart starts to race. You can definitely bet that his face stays a decent shade of red for the majority of the ceremony and party.

The party doesn't end when she comes to him and asks if he's ready to retire for the night, taking his hand when he agrees and pulling him toward the stairs. This man's face is ON FIRE as they go up the stairs together because everyone knows what they're going up there to do and that damn Irish Captain won't stop smirking at him -

He'll help her undress not solely for the purpose of making love to her, but because he wants to help her get comfortable (her beautiful form in front of him in nothing but a chemise is definitely motivation too...). Making her comfortable is his number one priority whether they make love that night or not. Making sure the curtains are drawn so the sunlight won't bother her in the morning, the fire is lit to keep her warm (I head cannon them getting married in winter for some reason... I mean they can keep each other warm during the colder months), making sure she has water on her bedside chamber.

They lay together after the long night holding each other comfortably softly speaking about how wonderful everything was. They may discuss the Order if she's curious about it and she'll make goo goo eyes at him as he speaks so passionately about it, with him blushing as she looks at him so lovingly. They may discuss books they've been reading together (tell me Haytham wouldn't have a private little book club for just him and his wife I DARE YOU). Things between them may become charged when they hold each other's gaze for too long... and then he'll really make her Mrs. Kenway...

NOTE: I KNOW I DIDN'T DO SEVERAL CHARACTERS IN THIS POST I'M SORRY OKAY. Seriously though some characters came easier than others - but there will in fact be a part 2.

[acesdiary]

Cave Talks

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notes: srry I didn’t have time 2 make chap 3 of A Spark of fire pookies 😞 in return I shall spoil yall with this 🤞🤞

warnings: none, js two idiots falling in love w/o knowing ☺️

paring: Portgas D Ace x gn!reader

wc: 394

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There was no one for you to blame, really. Neither of you could stop the waves from throwing you off course, and you didn’t ask the weather to be so horrible that you were left stranded on an island you hadn’t seen on any map before.

You tried to blame Ace, chiding him for rushing you out to sea when you warning him the timing was awful. He was pointing fingers all the same, reminding you that you were the one to pick the route. You probably would’ve been at each other’s throats if not for the rain. It seemed to dampen your anger into quiet resentment.

Within the hour, you found a cave; it was cold and damp all the same, but at least it wasn’t pouring. Ace waited until he was dry enough to spark up a fire, but you wondered if he’s been dry, and just choosing not to light a fire for you out of spite; you wouldn’t put it past him. You, on the other hand, shivered and clung to your own wet clothes. The silence was probably best, if you wanted to get out of here without wanting to chop your own head off from his yapping.

Just when you thought you could catch a break, you could feel Ace’s eyes glance over at you from his respective side of the cave.

“You’re better off letting your clothes air dry rather than clinging to them while they’re still wet.” His words hung in the air for a moment, he stared at you with a childish pout on his face.

“What?” You said, finally speaking up to him, not trying to hide the faint irritation in your tone.

“Are you mad at me?”

You scoffed, “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at the choices you make, Ace”

…

A short silence followed after you had spoken, before he replied with a stubborn, “I’m still not going to start the fire.”

BONK!!

“You bastard!! You’re going to start a fire right now— no matter what!” You yelled, smashing the top of head,

the comical rage on your face looked like you wanted to bash his head in.

A slight twitch of irritation flashed in his eyes before finally getting up and facing the pile of wood you had gathered earlier,

”Fine,”a small flame igniting from his hand; starting the campfire.

(note: he probably has a huge ahh dent in the top of his head 💀)

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Please don’t repost this on any other platform without asking for permission on either dms or my discord!

reblogs would be appreciated!

m.list

[r0seb100d]

Dallas Winston x reader hiding at the abandoned church ⛪️🤍

Fem reader

Warnings: slight mention of abuse.

When Ponyboy and Johnny carefully nudged the creaky, splintered door of the abandoned church on Jay Mountain, where Dally had instructed them to hide, the last thing either of them could have expected to find was a delicate, feminine body, huddled like a small bunny on one of the pews.

Her lightly curled raven tresses had tumbled past her creamy right shoulder, which poked out from the farm sack she had wrapped around herself, desperately seeking warmth.

The boys' eyes widened as they both took a step back in shock.

"Is she dead?"

Pony asked as both boys backed away in uncertainty. Pony accidentally bashed into the wall, causing a loud thud to echo through the church's almost empty halls. Johnny's head snapped towards his, narrowing his eyes slightly, but soon both of their gazes were averted back to the girl, who was now shifting in her place, clearly waking up.

As she sat up slowly and let out a quiet yawn, the sack had slid off her shoulders, revealing the silky, white lace-trimmed dress she had on, slightly stained with mud and dust. Upon noticing the boys, she scrambled off the bench in haste, panic clearly written upon her flushed face.

"I'm sorry, l'lI be goin', just please leave me alone."

Johnny swiftly interrupted her.

"I-It's okay; we ain't going to hurt ya. I'm Johnny, Johnny Cade and this is Ponyboy Curtis."

Johnny figured there was no danger in telling her their names; there was no way anyone here would have heard of the news yet, especially not alone in this church.

She stopped in her tracks and stared intensely at them both, digging the heels of her mary janes into the blanket of dust and rubble.

Realising that they really weren't going to cause her any harm, she let out a gentle smile framed by the dimples in her cheeks.

Both boys smiled back at her, and the three of them stood somewhat uncomfortably in the decaying church, unsure of what to do next.

"What are you doin' here if you don't mind me asking?" Pony asked, chewing on his bottom lip.

The girl stood still for a few seconds, almost as if she were unsure of what to say, then cleared her throat.

"Um, well, I'm actually hiding. Or just looking for a place to sleep really. It's a long story. Oh, and my name is y/n" She peered down at her shoes.

Johnny smiled warmly at her.

"S'okay y/n. We sort of are too; it's also a long story.

"Well, I suppose we've got hours to kill if you guys are stayin' here."

The boys filled her in on all the chaos that had ensued in the past 24 hours, and though her sweet face twisted into concern for them, she was also slightly grateful that she had found some company that also had some troubles. It made her feel less alone, and maybe, maybe they could even become friends.

 ♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

As the evening chill settled in, y/n rubbed her arms in an attempt to warm herself up, feeling the strawberry skin beneath her fingers. Pony noticed her slight shiver and, deciding to be gentlemanly, pulled off Dallas' brown leather jacket from around his waist and held it out to her.

"Here. You must be pretty cold in just that dress."

"Oh, thank you."

She was touched by the kind act and quickly took shelter in the comfort of the jacket that smelt faintly of tobacco and cologne.

"S'alright, it belongs to a friend of mine; he gave it to me right before we ran away. His name is Dallas; he kinda scares me a little, but he's a cool guy really. Tough too. You should meet him."

She smiled meekly at him and nodded.

"Yeah maybe. Then I can thank him for this."

She let out a slight laugh, fiddling with the worn ends of the sleeves that her arms drowned in.

"So what led you here?" Johnny enquired.

That was a good question. The events that had led here were more than ugly, but if Johnny and Pony could trust her and share what happened to them, she could trust them too. A shaky breath rattled from her chest, and her eyes glazed over slightly.

"My father, he's- he's, um, a pretty shitty person, and he only got worse after my mom died two years ago, beating me around and all that. And about 3 days ago, he just lost it."

Her voice trembled, and she fixated her eyes on the broken window, the jagged glass a painful reminder.

"He threatened to kill me; he had me in one hand and a shard of glass in the other. I escaped obviously, but I had no where to go, and god I'm just so screwed up."

By now, her voice and completely broken and hot tears were streaming down her face. She struggled to swallow the sobs that wracked through her body, and Johnny gently reached for her shoulder.

"It's okay now. We're safe here. Dal said so. And if it makes ya feel any better, my parents are pretty shitty too, and Pony lost his last year; you're not screwed up, just unfortunate. Dally should be up here soon, and if you'd like, I'm sure he'd know what to do."

"Thanks." She sniffled "I'm really lucky it was you guys who came in here and not some psycho. Guess I'm not too unfortunate."

Y/n leaned in and hugged them both, feeling a little bit safer with her newfound friends.

The three of them soon dozed off, all exhausted.

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

When Dallas carefully nudged the creaky, splintered door of the abandoned church on Jay Mountain, where he had instructed Pony and Johnny to hide, the last thing he could have expected to find was the both of his friends laying next to a delicate, feminine body, huddled like a small bunny on one of the pews.

"What the-" He muttered quietly to himself before silently treading over to the trio, wanting to get a closer look while being wary not to wake them up. Where on earth had she come from? Who was she? Why was she here?

Glancing down at her sleeping face, Dallas could have sworn that his heart stopped. She was beautiful, angelic even. With her dark hair and pale skin with a twinge of pink on her cheeks, he couldn't help but stare. He then noticed that she was wrapped up in his jacket, and god did the sight do something to him.

Shaking those thoughts away, Dallas gently smacked the boys on their heads to wake them up.

"Man, you know, I must've really underestimated you guys. You've been here for what? Around 24 hours, and you've already managed to pick yourselves up a broad. Maybe runnin' away was all you needed." He teased with a wide grin plastered on his face. Better to focus on teasing them, or else his mind would surely stray to the third figure on the bench.

"Oh, shut it Dal. She's hidin' here too; we found her here when we first arrived. Her old man is a real asshole, threatened to kill her and everything. We figured you'd know what to do." Johnny rambled, looking to Pony for assurance.

"You guys have got to be shittin' me." Dallas took a deep puff from his cigarette, his brows tightly knit together. Though the thought of her being hurt that way made his stomach twist in a way he didn't want to admit, Dallas wasn't sure if he was willing to help a total stranger.

But god, just one glance back at her peaceful sleeping face already had him whipped. He was just a man after all, and she was a pretty girl.

With the boys deep in discussion, they hadn't noticed that she was now wide awake looking at them. She had realised that there was another guy with them. Another guy who was much taller, older, and rougher looking. He was gorgeous, and she felt nervous just sitting there in an old, soiled dress. When he turned to face her, both of their eyes widened and their hearts raced.

"Hi." The word sounded so silly, spilling out from her mouth. Why was she so nervous? She had only just met him.

"Hey doll." He had a faint New York accent with a husky voice, and the nickname made her head spin.

"Are you Dallas?"

"Yeah, Dallas, Dallas Winston, but call me Dally; Dallas reminds me of what the fuzz calls me."

"Nice to meet you, Dally; I'm y/n. Oh, and thanks for the jacket; Pony lent it to me." She shrugged it off and went to hand it to him, but he waved his ring-clad hand at her.

"Nah, keep it. It looks better on you." Her cheeks flushed at his comment, and he couldn't help but find her flustered state cute.

"So I heard you need a place to stay." He took another drag of his cigarette.

"Yeah, something like that."

Sure, she was shy normally and had never been anything close to a social butterfly, but a two-minute interaction with Dallas had made her feel dizzy.

"I got a place you can stay; nothin fancy, but it's a place."

"I'd appreciate anything; thanks, Dally." His stomach twisted when she said his name.

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

After hugging Johnny and Ponyboy goodbye and wishing them good luck, she followed Dallas out to a cherry-red T-bird parked outside of the church.

"Belongs to a friend of mine." Dallas told her and opened the passenger door to let her in.

“It’s nice.” He hummed in agreement.

The car was soon making its way back to Tulsa, and Dallas would be lying if he said he wasn’t being unusually careful with his driving, mindful of the girl in the passenger seat, not wanting to startle her.

God only knows why he was acting this way—so strangely soft and careful around someone he had just met—it felt so painfully unfamiliar yet natural all at once. It scared him.

She was absentmindedly tapping her fingers on the window sill, matching the tempo of the rock songs that played on the radio, her bare legs tucked underneath her on the leather seats.

What Dallas didn’t know, however, is that she was thinking of him too. Thinking of the way his hands gripped the steering wheel with recklessness yet also calculated precision. The way his hair was blowing with the wind that snuck through the crack of the open window, only a few strands framing his face, which had a gold hue to it from the early morning sun. He was rough. He had sharp edges, and it was obvious he had seen things that most could only dream of ever seeing, but in this moment, in the crimson car, he looked nothing short of angelic.

Wherever he ended up taking her, she hoped to see him again, talk to him, get to know him with all his roughness, and for him to know her with all her gentleness and cruel past. For them to know each other.

♱ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

౨ৎ 1.8k words. Might do a part 2! ౨ৎ

[rookieclaire]

listen to 'this night has opened my eyes' by the smiths while reading!

adam's medical analysis from a teenager who has no idea what he's doing but has internet access >_<.

why does no one talk about adam's injuries after the bathroom trap?

obviously his shoulders messed up, yeah, but what else? well in this hypothetical we'll assume that instead of amanda coming to kill adam it's larry coming to save him. it's estimated that this was three(?) days after the bathroom trap. 

realistically he would be incredibly malnourished and would die from dehydration unless he drank the water from the bathtub/toilet (let's say he did in this au) which would cause him diseases such as sepsis, cholera, e. coli, the such. and if any one of you goes “well! he could have eaten zepp!” i’m not even entertaining that. obviously, sure, he could have, but for my own sake let's say he didn’t. sorry guys i’m not that committed

another reason i don’t think he would eat zepp is because he was barely alive when mandy killed him. his fight or flight kicked in and thats why he went so hard. this motherfucker got electrocuted several times after he was shot. he almost immediately gave up on moving unless necessary. 

his ankle would probably be rubbed raw and sprained. i couldn't find a lot of information about ankle shackling and what it does… so… i’m just guessing at this point. not to mention the fact they’re both barefoot? adam probably stepped on the glass he threw several times​​​. you can hear glass crunching under mandy’s boot in saw three. that's how loud it is.

he would probably need physical therapy. not as much for his leg as larry, but definitely some.

back to his shoulder: assuming he didnt die of shock. adam still has his overshirt from the beginning of the movie. he could have taken advice from lawrence and put that onto his shoulder and stopped his bleeding. but since he didn’t, let’s assume the best solution is losing mobility in his right shoulder/arm. 

adam’s immune system would also be incredibly shit after this. he’d probably be feverish, delusional, etc. when we saw mandy killing adam he looked like he was having delusions.

when adam is killed by mandy he starts coughing up blood (given this was after he hit his head) but we can also argue that this is another side effect? of what, you may be wondering. idfk some problems. maybe electrocution! 

again with the malnourishment i feel like it would be hard for him to eat after this because like.. he’d get sick a lot… i guess…

tldr: adam would be malnourished and unable to eat for a while, his ankle would be sprained and rubbed raw, defo has an infection, no immune system, little to no function in right arm, feet would also get very cut up.

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now, his canon death. let's talk about it, shall we? he got his head bashed in and suffocated. the man threw up his own blood. three things that definitely cause death! i think this is the order it happened since no one can decide. concussion, throws up own blood, chokes on it, since he can’t breath to begin with, he dies from asphyxiation. if we follow matpat’s theory that he faked his death, we can argue back that even if he somehow survived that he would almost 100% die from his concussion or choking on his own sick. 

tldr: adam is dead :(

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also adam wears combat boots. this isn’t important by any means. i just wanted to point it out. and his boxers look hella cool. They’re just polka dots but i like them lots.

anyways guys like and follow for a part two feel free to tell me to add things in reblogs/comments and i will share my opinion. Remember i am not a doctor i’m just a teenager with webmd and a dad who said it was pretty accurate! if ur shot go to the hospital trust. umm yeah:3