#that one on the bottom right corner is Old but whatever its still cute so it stays
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These Beautiful Torments (Pt.6)
Recovering from the fight that has left him badly wounded both physically and mentally Billy tries to piece together the parts of his past. To remember who he is, or was, but it’s never that easy is it?
Warnings: Trauma, Depression, Eventual Smut, Violence, Unplanned Pregnancy- Canon? We don’t know her. (If I missed any feel free to let me know)
You rubbed at your bleary eyes, closing the computer screen. Exhausted but feeling some success and conviction behind it. You’d retraced a few of Billy’s old hard drives, and found a couple that you’d somehow missed in the bottom of one of his drawers. On it had been damning evidence, emails between him and Rawlins as well as other superiors under command, Rawlins asking Billy to do his bidding and to your relief and occasional shock, Billy refusing.
Previous emails his responses had been clipped, succinct, leading you to believe that the dealings and resolutions were handled in person instead of via email. But the paper trail that came after was outright refusal. Standing his ground, then whatever else transpired wasn’t recorded so all you could do was speculate. Billy had been pushing back, which gave you hope, you didn’t quite know how to frame any of this yet, who to share it with. It still felt like grasping at straws, but you were making headway.
It almost helped you forget about how ready to go toe to toe with Krista you were. At that a sharp strong kick reverberated from your lower abdomen. Rubbing at the spot you felt another kick just after, they were getting stronger every day it seemed.
“That’s right. Thanks for helping keep me awake and on task.” You responded, smiling before as a huge yawn escaped your mouth.
You’d long outgrown your cute pj’s opting instead to wear one of Billy’s old white undershirts, stretching to its limit, instead of going out to buy something new. It made it feel like he was still with you when you came home. He was everywhere in your apartment, all his things still in their rightful places, waiting for his return.
You’d barely moved or touched anything. The only new addition was the ultrasound picture, particularly placed by one of Billy’s fragrance bottles, tall enough to bolster the image. It just felt right keeping it on his side of the dresser, nothing else had changed and yet all at once everything had. You took out your phone and texted Karen quickly before you fell asleep.
“Found some stuff. Talk soon?”
A second later- “For sure!” And a heart emoji. You didn't know how you'd missed these drives previously, maybe it was just the stress and anxiety keeping you from upturning everything on his side of the room, always having a healthy respect for his belongings.
You felt a rolling sensation in your belly, watching the movements and undulations underneath your overly stretched out shirt. Naturally it was time for bed and the little creature was wide awake and feeling adventurous. You reached over to turn off the light.
“A trouble maker, just like your father.”
Billy ran down a side alleyway, ducking behind a dumpster, attempting to catch his breath. He’d been running for god knows how long, soggy and damp from the rain, with no idea where he was going. Hoping he’d find his way, wherever that was. After what felt like a significant enough rest he took off again.
The downpour pelted at his face and the cold asphalt bit at his feet as he turned down another alley, then another, zigging and zagging with no true sense of direction. His socks had pin pricks of blood seeping through from where he was sure he ran over some glass or sharp rocks, but couldn’t be bothered to stop just yet. When he was sure he’d made it a good few more miles from the hospital he used the last surge of his energy for the night to round a corner , and smash face first into a woman on the sidewalk.
They both slammed backyards, sprawling over the pavement, papers flying out of her bag onto the soaked ground.
“What the fuck!” She shouted angrily, trying to gather her belongings before they soaked through ruining the files. Billy ran a hand over his face, realizing the mask had landed about five feet behind him.
“Sorry.” He murmured, beginning to crawl backwards to grab his plastic disguise before taking off again.
“Billy?!” He froze, mask in hand, turning back to this woman who apparently knew who he was. Turning slowly he came face to face with a woman who he didn’t know. Or couldn’t remember rather.
“Billy, it’s me, Karen? Your friend.” Her excited face started to fall as she realized that he didn’t recognize her. “Sorry that was dumb. You don’t remember me.” He shook his head, feeling a tiny stab of pain behind his eyes as he thought hard, willing his brain to call up the image of this woman for clarity. “I’m y/n’s friend and Fra... well we were all part of a friend group.”
She stumbled over her words, reaching a hand out to him. He looked her up and down, weighing his options, but speaking your name allowed a feeling of trust to seep in. He took her hand, hoisting himself up, bringing himself to his full height over Karen as she grabbed the last of her soaked through papers.
“Can you… take me to her?” Billy asked, a note of pleading in his voice. She hesitated, rubbing the back of her neck in thought.
“I don’t know if that’s safe. I assume they didn’t just let you go..” her eyes drifted downwards taking in his soaked and dirty socks, rain drenched scrubs, all pointing to signs of an escape, not a clean getaway with just a slap on the wrist.
Billy realized she was right, mind racing figuring out where he could go. As if reading his mind Karen interjected,
“You can stay in my spare bedroom for the night. Then tomorrow we’ll find you someplace else, someplace safer.” She glanced around, beckoning him to follow her as she turned towards a parking garage nearby. He would normally hesitate but an inkling deep down told him to trust this woman, maybe she was telling the truth. Maybe she had been a friend of his.
Karen drove as calmly as she could, hands gripping the wheel with Billy laying in the backseat under the windows view just in case. When they slowed down Karen scouted the neighborhood before nodding to him, both briskly moving with purpose to the front door of her brownstone and locking the front door immediately after.
“Well this is the spare bedroom.” Karen gestured to the small room on the second floor, the bed was a double with navy sheets and a small window overlooking the back alleyway where they parked. Billy nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed and removing his filthy socks. “Oh! Hold on I have some clothes for you to change into!” She returned with a black t shirt and sweatpants, handing them over to him.
There was an awkward pause in conversation before she added, “Billy, Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad to see you out and …about, but uhh how exactly did you get out?” He hesitated turning over the shirt and pants in his hands, dark eyes down turned.
“I had to get out. I was wasting away in there…” a long pause, “I was being used by my therapist and my memories were just starting to come back, but I don’t think she…any of them on the inside wanted me to remember-“ Karen’s face softened, tentatively placing a hand on his shoulder.
“We’re …we’re gonna figure this out. But for now, just get some sleep.” a half smile, turning and closing the door behind her. Billy changed into the dry clothes, sliding under the sheets and listening to the pounding rain on the small window. He hadn’t had so much space to sprawl out in months, it felt nice. Brushing a hand over the pillow next to him, noticing how his body subconsciously moved to one side of the bed, out of habit he assumed.
All he could think of was you, how you two had been together, how he was the father of the baby he’d felt move in your belly. How memories of you were starting to drift back to him effortlessly, your smile over a glass of wine, your laugh at a work event, the way you’d run your fingers through his hair pulling on it as his mouth undid your resolve with each swipe of his tongue. That last recollection made his groan out, noticing how just the thought of you was making him hard.
He gripped the other pillow to his chest, resting his chin on it, falling asleep imagining it was you.
Billy didn’t know how long he’d slept for , that’d he’d even been able to let his guard down in an unfamiliar place long enough for sleep to take over. It wasn’t until he heard the doorbell that his senses came back to him in full force, cortisol pumping through his veins bringing him on the alert. Jumping up from the bed he leaned towards the door, listening carefully. He heard voices chattering, female voices, then footsteps into the kitchen and pots banging around.
Billy eased the door open as quiet as possible, moving to the stairs and padding down them, ears straining to hear anything else. Then he heard laughter. Your laugh. That was all he needed to hear, moving with the agility of cat he stepped off the last stair, turning to the kitchen seeing you standing there, cradling a mug of tea. A vision his mind was kind enough to remind him was a normal sight from his past, but during most of those times it was coffee you were holding.
You almost choked on your herbal tea seeing Billy turn the corner into the kitchen.
“Billy?!” You found yourself setting the mug down and moving towards him as fast as you could waddle at this point. He moved in as well and you could have died as you felt his arms entwine around you for the first time in months. Billy’s eyes closed, holding you as tightly and close as he could, breathing in the enamoring scent of you.
You weren’t sure if you could fully blame it on the hormones but you found tears streaming down your face, over a half years worth of tumultuous emotions finally breaking free and finding solace in the arms of the only man you ever loved. You groaned at the feelings overwhelming you, how was it possible he felt so fuckin good? His arms only squeezed tighter around you, the warmth and sensations only caused the little houseguest you were hosting to stir excitedly in a flurry of rolls and few choice kicks.
At that Billy loosened his grip, taking the smallest step back he could to look down at your bump, letting his one hand freely roam over the expanse of your belly, relishing each new kick and movement. He locked eyes with you then, glistening with unshed tears. “It’s mine.”
You felt your a lump form in your throat, the stream of tears never slowing as you nodded, hands fisted into the front of Billy’s shirt, afraid if you let go you’d crumble to the floor. Pulling you into his embrace once more you leaned onto your tip toes, pressing your lips to his finally, fully.
This kiss wasn’t slow and safe like the hospital one had been, this was pure hunger, touching and tasting each other’s mouths with reckless abandon. So much and not enough all at once, the taste of his tongue, the sparks zipping down your body awakening parts of you that had lied dormant for far too long. Wondering how long you could make this last until-
“Ennnnghnnn.” A cough from Karen who was leaning against her countertop with a cup of coffee, amused expression dancing across her features. “I was gonna cook us all up some breakfast but I’m thinking maybe I should go out and come back?” Your face was hot as you struggled to catch your breath, taking a step back from Billy, arm still wrapped around his lower back.
“No it’s fine.” You stammered, having a hard time focusing on anything other than the man at your side. You had questions, so many questions but didn’t know where to start. “How did you get out?” You asked, placing a hand to Billy’s chest that he eagerly placed his hand over top of.
“Krista.. she’s been lying and using me this whole time. She knows something and wanted my memory to remain locked away, but her feelings for me changed.” He could see the light of fury spark behind your eyes. “She let it slip that the child was mine, and as my memories have been resurfacing lately due to our…talks, she got scared and angry, and then sloppy. I’d had enough, I can feel my past starting to come back to me slowly but being locked up in there, I was hitting a wall.” He grimaced thinking of spending one more god forsaken day tied to that bed, listening to Krista mumble some nonsense that had nothing to do with him getting his mind put back together.
It was true, he’d started to recall more and more things speaking with you over the past few weeks than all the time with doctors and therapists, and no longer being confined to a small hospital room had seemingly opened the floodgates as more and more info started appearing in his tired skull. He could start to remember Karen, a kind helpful woman, your best friend, she had been sweet on… on Frank. Frank. It was only flashes but Billy could feel the pain, the agony, fighting with Frank on the carousel.
He’d tried to explain himself to his friend, but their prior offenses took precedence and the fighting got out of control. He could see the skull on Frank’s chest, the flashing lights as he struggled to maintain consciousness, the bitter metallic taste of blood filling his mouth as shards of mirror splintered and cracked under his skin. Tearing and ripping flesh and then blackness. He’d tried to scream out, that he had no hand in Frank’s family’s death, that Rawlins had told him they were at a separate location.
He’d tried to get there in time to find the space empty. He couldn't find them in time. He couldn’t stop it. He’d put off denying Rawlins and Bennet for so long to appease them, to keep their blood lust slated long enough to warn his friend. To tell him to leave town, but it’d not been enough. And when more and more names lined the hit list Billy would be sent he’d fought back, refusing to comply.
And he would have too, until Rawlins pulled the trump card and pulled up the video feed on a street corner, and you’d popped into frame. A red sniper dot focused on your back as you talked with a coworker, and Billy had folded like a cheap card table. As long as he didn’t step too far out of line you were safe, or so it seemed. Frank’s name appeared on the list, and his wife and his children.
Billy had refused, stating that he wouldn’t stand in the way of their plans to kill him so long as you were kept safe, but behind the scenes he’d attempted to sneak off, to warn his friend. Going to the location he thought they’d be, where he was lead to believe they'd been hiding out at, to find it empty and coming to find the blood of his former family coating the walls of another house he’d been unaware of. He had screamed in anguish , searching for his thought to be dead friend, never finding him, and thinking him gone for good.
He blinked away the tears that threatened to fall as he stood in the kitchen, you and Karen watching him intently as his eyes darted back and forth working through each new painful memory as it resurfaced, searing and brutal.
“Billy.” You whispered softly, reaching up to caress the side of his face, drawing his attention back to you. “Billy it’s going to be ok.” You didn’t care if it was a beautiful lie, you had him in this moment and needed him to come back to you fully.
He took a shaky breath, pulling you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head, breathing in your sweet scent. The aroma acting as a calming salve on his bruised and beaten heart. Karen was the first to speak up reluctantly.
“ You said you found some emails on a couple of drives?” She asked. You nodded, moving from Billy for only a split second to grab your bag that had all the new info you’d discovered recently. Handing over the hard drive, watching as she grabbed it, plugging it into her laptop resting nearby. “I’m going to need to let these run through my software to be on the safe side. Maybe you could grab Billy some of his old clothes from your place before we go to the next safe house?”
Billy blinked staring at the hard drives Karen was handling, a note of recognition in his eyes. You took his hand, bringing his attention back to you once more.
“I think that’s a good idea, you can shower and change into something that fits better.” You smiled, taking in the sweatpants that were obviously too short for his long legs.
“Go, I’m downloading what we need then I’ll text you the coordinates.” Karen interjected, suddenly very absorbed in the text appearing on her screen.
“Would that be…ok?” You asked looking up into his eyes, dying to see him in your shared apartment once more if even for just a brief moment to shower and change before heading out. He smiled, nodding and bending down to plant a kiss onto your waiting lips that stole the breath from your lungs.
And so you both took off into the morning, rays of sunlight dotting the path drying the wet patches of sidewalk along the way.
#billy russo#billy russo fanfic#Billy Russo x Reader#frank castle#the punisher#the punisher fanfiction#marvel the punisher#billy russo x female reader#billy Russo edit#ben barnes#ben barnes character#punisher fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#Jigsaw!billyrusso#jigsaw!billyrusso x reader
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Subject: RAPTOR
Nomu!Hawks x Reader (NSFW)
This GIANT is the lovechild of this amazing fanart and this ask:
I twisted the shizznit out of that ask, but the inspiration is still there. A thank you to anyone who makes it through this very long ride.
This fic does takes some liberties in the creation of nomu. Some factors will deviate from canon.
Words: 20k+
You can also read this long-ass story on AO3 if that’s more comfortable.
Heed these warnings: Blood and Death, Teratophilia/Monster-Fucking, Breeding, Mutant Genitalia, Unethical Experimentation, Mutilation, lots of handjobs and cum, LOTS of long tongue action and I’m ashamed, Brief Suicide Ideation, and Shitty Science
——–x——–
Fertile nomu were the greatest breakthrough that the villains could ever hope for. Breeding saves so much time and resources, as opposed to artificially creating each specimen from scratch. There were two major “programs”, as these sick bastards insist on calling them.
The Mating Program, where the nomu were paired together, one with male sexual organs and the other with those of a female, though there was also the occasional subject that managed to possess both. It was an unpredictable process; miscarriages were common, sometimes the offspring dies minutes after birth, or the fetus develops too rapidly inside the womb and the birth becomes a violent bursting out of the parent’s body. Weaker nomu, usually the ones incapable of rapid regeneration, have been killed from such incidents. “What a waste,” those bastards in lab coats would say.
And then there was the Milking Program, in which semen was collected to later be frozen or artificially inserted into ‘other creatures’. Yeah, they say it as if ninety percent of those creatures weren’t humans.
You were an unwilling member of the latter program, but the assholes sure did love making it sound like they were doing you a favor.
“This entire precinct is yours,” they said. “Your very own farm of all-powerful beasts!”
Gee, thanks. Just what you always wanted, to jerk off abominations and collect their cum. To be fair, it could be worse. At least you weren’t one of the unlucky ones being impregnated. Your possession of a quirk, albeit a mostly useless one, probably saved you from that fate. Those without a quirk had a higher chance of passing down all of the Nomu’s abilities. Just another addition to the long list of Why Being Quirkless Fucking Sucks.
The weaker and simpler nomu aren’t an issue. A sort of imprinting drives them to obey your every command. Hell, jerking them off isn’t even needed — you can literally just order them to ejaculate, and the damn things are spewing out their putrid seed before you can even prepare your containers.
The most troublesome part of your “job” was the High Ends. They are powerful, sentient, and God help you, have an actual sex drive. They were obedient to an extent, but you can’t hold complete control over something that was specifically designed for independent thinking. You were responsible for only five of these advanced nomu, and that was too many. The touchy bastards always wanted more than just a handjob, vocalizing their lust through distorted throats. The long, beastly groans of “inside” and “give pussy” echoed in your head throughout the day and into the night.
These things can literally pound you into mush, and the very thought of carrying their horrifying children makes your throat burn with rising bile. You don’t believe it’s worth risking your life just to please their monster dicks.
That was all before they introduced you to a new ‘pet’. You stood in the hallway of your assigned area of the old hospital and watched two approaching figures. Ugh, another damn High End to make things more difficult, but this one made your heart skip a beat.
Most of the creature’s body was a solid black, just like the rest within its tier. It was more slender than the others, upper body leaning forward with the support of long legs with joints that reminded you of a bird. Both its hands and feet were covered in scales and ended in large talons. A grand pair of ebony wings were folded behind its back, and a muscular feathered tail swayed with its movements. Overall, its appearance was a mixture of avian and reptilian.
The feathery wings were a huge hint, but absolute certainty struck you when you made eye contact, gold-filled eyes with a bird-like slant on a face that still managed to stay youthful after so many alterations to its body. You listened in on the villains’ conversations whenever they were around. With no access to any kind of media in this place, it was the only way to stay up-to-date with everything happening outside of these cursed labs. You remember hearing about their latest victory, how they managed to overpower and kill the number two hero of Japan, dreadful news that you refused to believe. But the beast that was eyeing you curiously gave you no choice but to accept the truth.
Hawks has become their newest nomu.
The doctor accompanying him smiled proudly, commanding the monster to take your side. You gulped and tried not to flinch in his presence; you were always extra tense around new additions that didn’t know you yet. “Hawks is dead,” the doctor said calmly. “Say hello to our latest work: Raptor.”
You think you’d rather stick with ‘Hawks’. The doctor doesn’t wait for a response before continuing. “We expect samples from this one daily.”
The shocking demand has you speaking before you can stop yourself. “Why?”
The man’s impassive eyes darkened and you shrink back, considering an apology but deciding that it was best to just keep your mouth shut. Prisoners like you followed a set of rules, the most important one being ‘No Questions’. They’ll feed you to the very beasts entrusted in your care without batting an eye.
Lucky for you, this man was willing to give you a pass. “Analysis, fertilization, storage for future plans…many matters that don’t concern you. Expect me every morning to take it in for testing. Until then, get it settled and collect the first sample.”
You shuddered, sneaking a glance at Hawks, who was busy looking up at the occasional flicker of the ceiling light. It was careless to underestimate how observant the High Ends were, but this is the first time you’ve seen one so openly curious. Normally they would just absently stare at nothing when left idle.
Only when the doctor turned to leave did you finally give the newcomer your full attention. “Hawks?”
He continued to watch the blinking bulbs with great interest.
“Um…Raptor?”
You nearly jumped from how quickly his entire body turned toward you, completely still and waiting for whatever instructions came next.
You scratched at your head nervously. “Right, I guess that really is your name now. Well, come with me.”
He followed you down the old hall and past the rooms where others of his kind rested, talons tapping against the tiles with each step.
x---x---x---x---x
Raptor’s exposed frontal lobe throbs.
He doesn’t remember anything before his awakening in that cold and wet chamber. Was there anything before? Had he just been born?
Perhaps…but it just didn’t feel right.
x---x---x---x---x
Like all the other nomu, Hawks’s private space was nothing more than an emptied patient room. Their loyalty was the only thing keeping them from breaking down the old doors or tearing through the worn walls. Every minute spent alone with these superhumans was a gamble with your life.
But again, the newcomers make you extra nervous.
You stood at the door while Hawks examined his new home. He sniffed and pawed at every nook and cranny like an animal in unfamiliar surroundings, straightening his flexible spine to touch the ceiling before lowering himself on all fours. He seemed just as comfortable crawling as he was with walking; you can only imagine how incredible his agility has become. The beloved wing hero was best known for his swiftness in defeating and subduing villains, and it looks like the mad scientists sought to maximize his talents. The average nomu was built to be an indestructible powerhouse. Hawks was built to be an even more efficient predator than he already was.
As much as you didn’t want to interrupt him, you had a job to do. “Raptor…”
His head whipped around to pin you with a sharp stare, molten yellow slits revealing the red irises that only appear when focused. You tensed, but he made no further movements.
You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. Nomu respond best to a confident and assertive voice. “Just relax and stay still. It’s time for me to collect some sperm, if you even know what that means.” You grab the jar that you had already prepared in the corner.
He shook his wings and soft mane of hair, leaving his head a poofy mess. Well that was…cute. You approached him before setting the container back down and reaching for the pathetic rags they called shorts. It’s beyond ridiculous how these sadistic doctors are willing to completely violate and alter a person’s corpse, yet they force the abominations to keep their junk covered as some form of decency.
A low rumble vibrated from his chest as you dropped to your knees and pulled down his only article of clothing, allowing the not quite human-looking cock to spring free — a thick base with a curved shaft decorated with scale-like ridges on the top and bottom, then tapering to an arrow-like head, twitching and growing each second. You’ve seen stranger dicks, but it still catches you by surprise. Was Hawks’s dick always like this?
Is that a distasteful question? He is technically dead.
The moment your hand made contact, a loud hiss rushed past his teeth and he stepped back, wings flapping as he backed away until he hit the wall.
“Calm down.” His reaction startled you, but your voice remained steady. He wasn’t showing any signs of aggression, his widened eyes and timid posture gave the impression that he was just caught off-guard. “Calm,” you repeated more softly.
A few seconds pass while his breaths slow and he stands straight again to give you access to his fully hardened cock.
You try to move more slowly, at first running just your fingertips along his length to ease him into the feeling. You smiled at the sight of his face relaxing; he was surprisingly expressive. “See? It’s not so bad, is it?”
His mouth opened to give you a glimpse of sharp teeth that could easily shred your flesh, but the only sounds that come out are several choked peeps. He winces and brings a clawed hand to his throat.
“Can’t talk yet, huh? Don’t worry, it usually takes a few days for you guys.” You closed your fingers around his shaft in a firm grip and began to stroke him.
The soft purrs must mean that he has fully given in. He thankfully hasn’t made any grabs at you yet; only staring down and watching you explore every inch of his pitch-black meat, taking his leaking pre-cum and smearing it all over for lubrication.
His wings shiver and his tail begins to swing wildly—you flinch at each loud thud whenever the powerful limb whacks the wall or slams into the floor. You briefly wonder if the feathers on his tail are capable of becoming sharp blades like the ones on his wings.
The purrs become low growls as he begins to bend over your kneeling form, muscular thighs quivering around you. His cock was twitching under your quickening pace, notifying you that it was time to grab the jar and get ready. “No need to hold back. Go ahead and cum.”
He obeyed with a high screech and two sets of talons seized your shoulders, tearing through cloth and digging into your skin. You yelped, but didn’t halt your milking of his cock, ensuring each spurt of cum landed inside the container. Blood can be felt trickling down your arms, his grip on the verge of crushing bone until he finally lets go after his final spasm. You release the breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you sealed the jar and stood up. “Good, now rest,” you said through clenched teeth and turned to leave.
A distorted chirp is heard behind you; you twisted your head to see Hawks rushing forward, and your heart jumps into your throat. Fuck, what did you do? Did turning your back excite him? Running wasn’t a smart option at this point. You held the fresh warm sample close to you as you shut your eyes and braced for whatever the nomu had planned.
But when he was close enough for you to feel his hot breath against your back, nothing happened. Then there were fingers, the same fingers that pierced your flesh with their hooked claws, lightly tracing over the bleeding wounds. It was a touch that was way too gentle for a monster created to kill.
You heard the choked sounds again, and you take a look at his face as he strains to form a word, eventually giving up and mouthing it instead. What you read from his lips was something that hasn’t been said to you during your entire time in this hellish hospital.
‘Sorry.’
He retreats to a corner and curls up his entire body like an animal sleeping in the cold.
You felt like the one unable to speak now, mouth opening and closing in search of a response. Eventually you were able to collect yourself. “It’s alright…I guess. Not the first time one of you has handled me roughly. First time one of you showed any regret, though…it’s honestly really freaking me out.” You giggle uncomfortably and decide that you need to hurry up and treat yourself before the scratches get infected. “Rest,” you make sure to command before rushing out of the door.
The restroom held a shabby but functional shower that will rid you of the blood, and the workers were at least generous enough to give you the bare minimum of first-aid along with extra gowns. A couple excruciating dabs of alcohol on the open wounds should clean them up just fine.
You’ll have to think about Hawks’s odd behavior later. You still had other nomu to tend to.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #1: Fierce Wings
Notes: As the host’s original quirk, we don’t expect Raptor to experience any difficulties with Fierce Wings. It should serve more as a refresher for his memory. With a brain more advanced than any other nomu so far, he should still be quick in attacking and reacting. His slightly enlarged wings will allow for greater endurance during flight, and of course, a bigger arsenal of feathers. The feathers on his tail are also to be tested.
The room that Raptor stood in the center of was filled with targets everywhere—some static, some moving in fixed patterns. The humans in coats were a safe distance away and watching him closely.
“Raptor, strike the targets with your feathers.”
He didn’t even have a chance to see which one gave the order before his body was already reacting. It took only seconds for him to pin the locations and time the movements of each target. In a flash, black sharpened feathers darted in multiple directions and pierced every mark in the room.
He didn’t care about impressing the Coats, but he still released a pleased hum after hearing his entire audience gasp. The whole situation felt familiar for some reason. Completing such a test felt so natural to him, he could probably do it blindfolded.
“Again, but this time use only the feathers from your tail.”
He obeyed. With his body lowered and tail raised, it only took two seconds longer to hit each mark.
Several more tests took place. He chopped objects of different materials and varying thickness, sliced apart a combat robot while using only his tail as a blade, and showed off his speed and aerial maneuvers during a small obstacle course.
His brain pulsed painfully. He doesn’t understand why taking so many commands was such a painful struggle.
He didn’t mind the tests much. At least he can actually do something in these test fields, as opposed to sitting in his empty room all day. After the very pleasant time spent with you, it was nothing but hours of pacing, scratching, and grooming out of boredom.
You mentioned there being others like him in those rooms. How do they handle having absolutely nothing to do for so long?
“Its mind tends to wander, doesn’t it?”
He turns to the source of the voice and finds a pair of Coats that stared at him like they were trying to probe his mind with just their eyes. The rest were scrambling about, discussing the excellence of his performance and scribbling notes.
But these two only seemed interested in watching him get lost in his thoughts. He stared back, waiting to see if they had any commands to give.
One of them only smirked as the loyal creature stood at full attention. “Yes, not very hostile, either. Not only is he capable of higher levels of thinking, he is the first High End that doesn’t host the body of some brutish villain. A more complex mind often comes with very human...quirks.”
Raptor blinks. They really enjoyed saying that particular word.
x---x---x---x---x
When you stepped into Hawks’s room for the second morning, you were ready to step right back out when you saw the state of it.
Claw marks everywhere, covering the walls and floor like webs embedded in the surface. Hawks was looking at you closely while stooped low to the floor, but his body appeared relaxed and not ready to lunge.
Not a single hair on you moved when you spoke. “Are you alright?”
He tilted his head at the question, releasing a puff of air through his nostrils before returning to whatever he was trying to do to the floor. He wasn’t violent with his movements. The talons scraped across wide curves, long lines, other patterns with seemingly no goal in mind. Looking around at the other claw marks, you realize that none of them are the angry slashes of a beast throwing a fit. They all looked to have been drawn in a calm matter, twisting and turning into random non-specific shapes.
“Raptor, are you…bored?”
He paused his carving to look at you again and releases a long and drawn-out groan, throat vibrating along with the vocals. Was that a whine?
All of the High Ends had traces of their original personality, but this was on another level. It wasn’t unwelcomed, however. “You know, when the other High Ends don’t have anything to do, they kinda just…I don’t know, it’s like they put their brains on a power-saver mode. You can’t do that?”
His brain responds with several strong pulses. Gross, you’re never going to get used to that pink-gray matter moving around. After what was apparently deep thought, Hawks gave a softer groan and shook his head.
You couldn’t help but laugh humorlessly at this entire situation. “Incredible. You’d think that these smartasses would know that making a creature of extraordinary intelligence—I bet that’s what they said—would mean that your big gross brain needs regular stimulation. Geniuses, my ass.”
Hawks gave a beastly snort. Seems like he agrees with you. You don’t mean to sound like those insane bastards, but it truly was incredible to see a High End that showed interest in casual conversation, not just commands or any opportunity to cause destruction.
Feeling confident that he won’t maul you out of boredom, you finally approach and kneel in front of him. “Sorry, there’s not much I can do about that,” you said with genuine sympathy. “Not like I have any entertainment of my own. My room sucks too. But—“ You held up your fresh new jar. “Maybe we can kill some time together again? God, that makes me sound like a sex worker for you guys.”
You don’t know if he has a sense of humor, but he clearly understands your hints and perks up. He stands so that your face is leveled with his groin, black scaly hands tugging at his shorts until a loud rip causes him to grunt in frustration. You giggle and decide to help tear the rest off. “They were just shitty rags, anyway,” you said.
He was already growing right in front of you. Your hand wraps around him for a second time, thankful that it doesn’t startle him again. He tenses for only a moment, but quickly relaxes when your stroking begins, a large pair of testes swinging freely now that there was no cloth to contain them.
“Wow,” you couldn’t help but gasp. “You’re not even built as big as the other nomu, but those are still impressive. I guess you’ve got plenty of samples to give, huh? Good, ‘cause I’ve gotta do this every damn day.”
You received a purr and a swish of his tail in response. It was a one-sided conversation, but it was still pretty refreshing. Milking the other High Ends was an uncomfortable task, one where you always had to be prepared with a loud and strong “No” or “Stop” whenever their excitement evolved into aggression. Every minute was tense, and despite your occasional wish for release from this shitty life, you didn’t want a violent end at the hands of these sex-hungry monstrosities.
His reactions weren’t too different from yesterday; he was being more vocal and less shy about physically expressing his pleasure. The massive black wings blew your hair back with each powerful beat, and his tail was thrashing about even more wildly.
His deep purrs weren’t unpleasant, slowly changing into higher mewls as he got closer. “Come on, just do what you did last time.”
And so he did, delivering another fresh sample straight into your container with a warped cry. His hands lingered right over you, clenched in tight fists that surely had those sharp talons digging into his rough palms. You couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if he was trying not to grab you this time. Would he really care about that without being told?
Hot, tired breaths blew into your hair as he recovered from his climax. Then, with his head reared back, he let out a yawn. You even heard a faint little whine similar to a dog escape him. It would have been pretty endearing if it weren’t for just how widely his mouth was opened, displaying the scary set of teeth within. Does he really use those in combat?
With his still-dripping member going flaccid, he returned to the spot he was scratching at, lazily tracing the markings that were already made. The thought of him doing this for another ten hours or so made you frown. They probably wouldn’t care if you stayed in this room a little longer than usual, would they?
Shrugging, you kneeled down again, this time resting beside him. Hawks stopped and looked at you curiously.
“Sharpen one of your feathers and give it to me,” you ordered.
Almost immediately a feather appears right in front of you. You grab it, taking care not to cut your fingers on the razor-like barbs. When’s the last time you’ve held a writing utensil? Shifting awkwardly next to the large nomu, you took the quill and began scratching lines into the floor. The hot heavy breaths and overall warmth from his close presence was hard to ignore. You’ve never been this close to a nomu for any reason that wasn’t jerking them off. He remained calm, watching your hand closely until you finished drawing a small grid.
“You know how to play tic tac toe?”
He blinked.
“…Okay, it’s pretty simple. You fill a space with either an ‘O’ or an ‘X’…”
Somehow, teaching a killer monster how to play a common children’s game was weirder than making him jizz. He caught on quickly, favoring X’s. You were winning each game at first, but once he figured out all of the possible patterns, every game was ending in a draw. You drew larger grids, sometimes having both of you move to a different spot for more room. Most matches were still draws, but he will sometimes catch you by surprise and scratch a row of three X’s that you didn’t notice in time, his tail swishing out of what may have been pride or enjoyment.
After a while you decided to show him other shapes. Maybe he can experiment with them more when you were gone. Who knows, soon he might be drawing more than random lines. He wasn’t bad company, to be honest. Then again, your standards have taken a nosedive ever since you winded up in this facility of unethical science. It was nice to spend time with anything that didn’t want to just tear you in half with a massive cock.
Only when you felt like you overstayed your welcome and stood back up did you realize how much of a mess you both made of the floor and walls.
“Oops, it looks like a bunch of kids got in here,” you said while looking at the collage of shapes and lines. Hopefully the doctors won’t find this too strange; he was pretty intelligent, after all. “Well, it’s about time I take my leave. You keep practicing your doodling skills, I guess.” With the jar of white fluid back in your arms, you headed on out, but a large hand grabs onto your arm.
Hawks’s yellow eyes were wider than usual, a scraping, guttural noise leaving his throat as he toyed with his voice.
“Sss…..aaayy…” Just like the other High Ends, his vocals were warped and all-around unsettling, but you could hear it, traces of the playful and smooth-talking hero that you used to watch during interviews and talk shows. It was barely there, but it was still there.
“St…aay.”
You couldn’t help the sad smile that graced your face. He was looking at you like a puppy. “Sorry, but I don’t know what they’d do if they notice me staying here for too long,” you explained.
He winced from the strain of his vocal chords. “Come…back?”
You shook your head. “There are cameras in the halls. I shouldn’t be going in and out of your room.” You tensed under his grip, afraid that refusing him like this will anger him. He has been very docile so far, but you don’t know what it takes to set him off.
Thankfully, he lets go of you and backs away with another one of those whines. For God’s sake, were you really feeling bad about leaving one of these...things?
To be fair, in the two days you’ve known him, Hawks was already much different from the others. Hell, he hasn’t even shown any true signs of aggression yet. The other High Ends are always expressing some desire to attack or break something. You thought it came naturally with all of the engineering. For something that was apparently supposed to be their finest specimen yet, Hawks’s behavior wasn’t fitting for his job at all. You just played tic tac fucking toe with him like two kids on a sidewalk.
That’s probably why you found yourself trying to reassure him. “We can play some more tomorrow. Don’t worry.”
An odd clicking noise was made—he sure had a variety of sounds reminiscent of birds—and he returned to his favorite corner, hooking his talons into an empty spot on the wall to begin yet another drawing.
The slightest hint of warmth could be felt in your chest as you left him to his creative tasks. This place sucks and has deprived you of everything good in life for…you’ve lost track of how long. You’ll take whatever you can get to make things more bearable around here.
And if that ‘whatever’ turns out to be a former top hero who was killed and resurrected into a horrid experiment, then so be it.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #2: Reptile
Notes: The Reptile quirk will make for a great upgrade to Raptor’s physical capabilities. He may possess wings, but the ability to climb almost any surface will be helpful in enclosed areas and improve his overall performances in stealth. A flexible spine allows him to comfortably be both bipedal and quadrupedal, the digitigrade legs granting him greater speed and jumps.
Also, someone needs to send in a request for a new pair of shorts for the damned thing.
There were many more instructions to follow this time. The Coats were bombarding him with one command after another.
“Climb up here.”
“Slash this with your talons.”
“Crush this with your hands. Try again with your feet.”
His head throbbed painfully as the voices took hold of his movements. They pushed his endurance to the limit when they made him run on a machine, first on his legs, then again on all fours. He was only running in place, but it was much more satisfying than pacing back and forth in that boring room.
It turns out that he can scale walls and ceilings with little effort thanks to the pads on his hands and feet. Maybe he can try drawing on the ceiling when he returns to his room. The only downside was that you wouldn’t be able to sit up there with him.
The Coats observed behind the (assumed) safety of a wall of thick glass. Each one possessed a small microphone so that their voice can still be heard clearly through the speaker on his side of the room.
They always watched him with cold and calculating eyes, and only spoke to him when telling him to do something. You feared him; his feathers easily sensed your tension, unsteady breaths, and quickening heartbeats, yet you still took the time to be friendly. And what you do with those hands…he wishes you’d make him feel that good all day. Yes, his room was small and boring, but it did have you.
“Raptor, to the opposite end of the room,” a Coat ordered. The sensation of being pulled by his entire head forced him to take his place at the wall, staring straight ahead at the door.
His wings twitched from a powerful approaching presence, feathers instinctively sharpening at the possible incoming threat. The door was opened by a small Coat to make way for a beast, a beast with a large powerful form and exposed brain just like him.
Vacant eyes stared straight ahead, looking right through him like it was dead on its feet.
“This is one of Cloner’s spawn, yes?” A female Coat spoke with her mouth close to the mic. He supposes that they don’t care if he hears them.
“Yes. His offspring always turn out even more unstable than him. This one can’t even produce a single proper clone, and no additional quirks were inherited. It’s useless.”
“Well, at least it’ll help us in its final moments.” The man leaned into his mic. “Raptor, kill the nomu. Do not use your wings.”
The woman followed up with her own order. “Nomu, kill Raptor.”
Blood was suddenly rushing through his body twice as fast, the reds of his eyes appearing and locking onto the target that was already charging at him with a horrifying wail.
Kill it.
He ducked under the bigger creature’s closing arms that would have likely trapped him into a crushing hug, causing his opponent to lose balance and fall forward. His hand shot up and dug his talons into thick flesh, slicing it from its chest all the way down to its stomach as he ran beneath. Rising from under the nomu’s legs, he turned to see his gruesome work.
Instead, he sees the blur of a fist right before it smashes into his face and sends him flying. His back colliding hard with the wall accompanied the shattering of his jaw. There was no time to wait for his vision to clear up, scrambling out of the path of the charging silhouette before it slams into the now-empty spot, the impact shaking the entire room.
The pain only intensified when his face and spine began to shift, mending itself back together while he tried his hardest to keep his eye on the much more violent beast. A ghoulish moan was heard as it straightened itself, and Raptor could see the large gash that should have easily disemboweled it already closing up.
Ah, so they can both heal.
It was already charging straight at him again. The thing was fast and powerful, but it was acting like it had a one-track mind, sticking to a simple strategy of running towards him and dealing whatever damage it could.
His wings twitched, but there was a barrier in his mind preventing them from moving. Damned Coats.
The fight became a game of evasion, darting and dashing around the bigger and stronger nomu’s swings and countering with deep slashes. Wearing it down was impossible with such rapid healing, every cut he brought upon its skin was quickly sewn shut.
His only chance was to attack its brain, but the nomu had enough sense to protect its one true vulnerable spot, nearly crushing Raptor’s arm into paste after an attempt to sink his talons into the soft matter.
So he kept dodging, and dodging, until something inside the creature just...snapped. Perhaps it was out of frustration in failing to land any hits, but its haunting moans and wails soon became full on screams. Tightly clenched fists pounded into the floor, the stone floor crumbling under the sudden tantrum. Raptor stood and watched, wings tensing from the burst of tortured emotions.
“Hm, you weren’t exaggerating about the meltdowns,” he heard one of the Coats say, her voice as dull as ever.
“What an embarrassment. Damn thing can’t even carry out a simple fight.”
Raptor looked behind the glass of spectators and saw faces of disappointment.
“A complete waste.”
“Cloner’s children are all wasted potential.”
“What a sad display.”
“Pathetic.”
He looked back at the creature that was now writhing and flailing, its skin oozing a blob that throbbed and squirmed, like it was trying its hardest to take a shape.
But the bubbly pulses stop and the dripping mass melts into a lifeless puddle. The nomu continues to scream after its failed attempt at using its quirk. Raptor’s gut twists with pity.
A sad display, indeed.
“Raptor! Did you forget your orders? Kill him!”
The sharp command smothers all feelings of sympathy, and before Raptor knew it, he was running toward the tormented creature, each feather on his tail sharpening with every step. Ducking under a blind swipe, the black spear thrusted forward and pierced its brain with a sickening shlunk.
The thrashing was reduced to short spasms as the nomu choked out its final groans, its terrified eyes glazing over when the last traces of life faded.
The tail was yanked out and shook off the blood and spongy brain matter to splatter on the ground. Raptor gave a soft whine of distress.
“Well, that was all rather underwhelming.”
“Yep, that didn’t exactly challenge Raptor at all.”
“I’m concerned about his lack of aggression. Did you all see him hesitate?”
“Most likely just confusion and caution after witnessing such a sudden breakdown.”
So many voices, so many comments; Raptor paid no attention to them. His mind was on the corpse that continued to bleed heavily from the large gash in its head. Raptor was the stronger nomu. He won.
Was he supposed to feel proud? Victorious?
“He’s a very smart one. Did you see the markings in his room? He and his harvester have been...bonding.” That voice...Raptor recognized it as the Coat that showed up every morning to retrieve him from his room to enter these test rooms. “I can’t decide if I like the idea of a friendly nomu.”
The woman dismissed his worries. “As long as he knows to kill when he’s told, his behavior shouldn’t matter. But it might benefit us to test his relationship with his owner after we’ve finished observing his quirks.”
His throat vibrates as a low growl passes through.
Raptor doesn’t like it here.
x---x---x---x---x
Maybe it’s just because Friday (you’re pretty sure it’s Friday on your self-made calendar) tends to be your busiest day of the week, or that your wrist is beginning to wear down from the many giant dicks you’ve been stroking. Or maybe it’s just one of those days when you remember just how shitty this life was. Whatever it was, you weren’t in one of your best moods today.
That’s why you felt just the smallest hint of excitement when you reached Hawks’s door. Yes, it’s weird, but he was the closest thing you had to a companion around here, alright?
The last thing you expected was to open the door to an empty room, at least it appeared that way until you saw the black creature resting on the ceiling.
“Aah!” You yelp and drop the jar out of fright, causing Hawks to jump from the sudden noise. You curse and quickly pick up the container and scan it for any cracks while he gracefully twists his body to drop on the floor with a thud. He was as graceful as a cat...a cat that can comfortably sit upside down.
Relieved to see the jar in one piece, you turned your attention back to the waiting High End. “I didn’t know you could climb like that.”
His wings fluttered at the comment and he raised his palms right in front of your face. Ah yes, a hand. Very lovely. But looking more closely, you could see a difference in texture on the rounded pads of his fingertips. “Ooh, little sticky hairs, huh?”
He gave a click of what you assumed to be approval, tail swinging behind him.
“So I guess you’re not just born knowing everything your body can do. Sounds troublesome.” There’s something you wanted to do, something you wouldn’t ever consider doing with the other nomu even in your dreams. “May I, uh, touch them?” You held up your own hands innocently.
Hawks cocked his head, a gesture that you’re always going to find kinda cute, before grunting and bringing his larger hands to yours. All ten of your fingers made contact, and the slightest shiver shot down your spine.
It’s the first time you’ve ever touched one of these monsters outside of jerking them to collect semen. Your curiosity was always there, but the disgust and fear you often felt when in their presence fueled the overpowering desire to hurry up, get the damn job done, and get away from them as quickly as possible.
You never imagined that you’d be standing face to face with a High End, feeling the surprisingly soft pads on his scaly hands, his breaths deep and hot against your face as those red irises watched your expressions. He was still very intimidating with his tall form, glowing glare, and the large imposing pair of wings. But those eyes—they contained too much intelligence and emotion in them.
Too human. It was as uncanny as it was fascinating.
Only when his eyes close and he begins to croon softly do you realize that one of your hands have moved up to touch his face. The black skin feels extra thick when you gently press his cheek, strong and leathery. He leans in and brings his head closer to give you better access, and you can’t help but reward the reaction with scratches against his jaw and chin.
“You know, you’ve been doing a shitty job of acting like the ultimate killer,” you said when he purrs happily.
The purr morphs into a disgruntled whine. “Don’t...like.”
Your hand pauses, hoping for him to elaborate as well as he could. “Don’t like…?” You encouraged him.
He was still struggling to work his vocal chords, but at least he seemed to be showing less pain. “Don’t like...k-killiiing.”
What?
“Raptor, that’s...you know...the very thing you were made for, and you don’t like doing it?” Not that you’re complaining about his gentle nature, but hearing a damn nomu say that he dislikes killing might be the most ludicrous thing you’ve heard here, even more so than the first time you were told to make an abomination cum.
His entire body stiffens, and you couldn’t help but tense up as well. “Maaade-” He makes a harsh hacking sound. “-to kill?”
Shit. You panic and attempt to backpedal. “Not to actually kill. You’re supposed to be, you know, the strongest creature that’s capable of killing whenever he wants...if you, uh, wanted to.” Yeah, that sounds good enough.
It appears to do the trick, his body relaxing again. “Don’t like,” he repeated more smoothly this time.
“I know, I know. Killing sucks. Just don’t tell the assholes in labcoats that, alright? Now calm down.” You return to your ministrations, this time using both hands to rub and scratch his face. His eyes drift shut again as your hands trail down to his slightly elongated neck, brushing past his steady pulse.
Reaching his collar and then his chest, you discover that he’s solid muscle everywhere. He may not be on the verge of bursting out of his own skin like the others, but he could no doubt snap you like a twig just as easily. You feel his chest heave from a deep breath, the strength emanating from his body making you shiver. You shush him when he jolts as your hands reach his pronounced abs, pushing against the hard muscle until you finally arrive at his groin.
You snorted at the new pair of shorts. “Another pair, huh? At least these look a little less ragged.”
You pulled his large member out for the third time. Why did you have to do this daily? What could they possibly be doing with so many jars of jizz? Making cakes?
Sighing, you brushed off the soreness of your arm and wrist and began to pump his ridged length. “Just do me a favor and try to cum quickly, alright?”
He made a rather sad groan at that, curling into himself so that his face was close to yours. His sharp breaths were loud in your ears.
You couldn’t help but smile even through the strain of your muscles. “What, you wanna make this last? Do you know how many dicks I’ve had to tend to today? Cut me some slack, we’re gonna be doing this everyday, anyway.”
Hawks purrs before that monstrous voice shakes your body, his hot breath warming the side of your face and neck. “Feel gooood.”
The primal lust dripping from him triggers a pulse of warmth inside you. You...can’t remember the last time you’ve felt that, and it’s just a tad strange that a nomu caused it. Were you really that starved for attention? “I-” You cleared your throat after an awkward voice crack. “I know, handjobs tend to feel good. But please be a good boy and help me out here.”
He gives a puff that blows your hair back, but he complies. The big sweaty face that buries itself in your neck is so distracting that you almost forget to get your jar ready and fill it with the incoming spurts of semen. There, the final sample of the day has been collected. Now, if you could just push the panting fiend off of you before he starts drooling on your shoulder.
Something warm and slimy touches your neck. It has you pulling back so quickly that you almost fall and spill the vile essence all over you before the jar could be properly sealed.
Hawks shrinks back and quickly withdraws the indigo tongue into his mouth, looking down in what appears to be shame. You touch the licked spot, the thick saliva coating your fingers.
“Sss-sorrry.” Regret can be heard clearly in his droning voice.
“No, it’s...it’s okay,” you stammer. The sensation lingers, and then ignites a spark somewhere inside you.
A sick, disgusting, and absolutely fucked up spark. The next thing you say should horrify you, but instead you feel nothing but a twisted form of anticipation. “You can...um...do that again, if you want.”
His tail slapped the floor in excitement before he slowly closed the distance again, cautiously looking into your eyes before his tongue slithers out and caresses the same wet space.
The smooth muscle is hot against you, extending to inhuman lengths to explore your neck. The slick sounds as it slid across your skin should have grossed you out—all of this should be grossing you out, so you don’t understand why you tilt your head back to give him more room. He licks up and down your throat slowly to savor your taste, breathing heavily and releasing a stale stench from his open maw. You imagined the breath of a previously dead man to smell a hundred times worse, frankly.
With your neck completely drenched in his cooling slobber, he ventures upward, purring louder than ever as he tastes the flesh of your jaw. The tapered end of his tongue begins to curiously flick at your earlobe before circling around the shell of your ear. He seems to take a liking to the flabby cartilage and laps at it playfully while giving the occasional nip and suck and god, it’s all heard so fucking clearly, every schlick and smack traveling right through your canal and setting off questionable reactions all over you. Your hands are clenched and held against your chest, but you don’t tell him to stop.
‘What the hell is wrong with me?’
The licking moves to your cheek, lapping at it shortly before moving to your pursed lips.
‘This is fucked up beyond words.’
You flinch when the clammy tongue brushes over your lips, at first smoothing over them lightly, possibly testing to see how you’d react. His face is so close, your noses almost touching. To allow a nomu this close to you, touching you like this…
When you make no move of resistance, he gets braver and laps at your mouth with controlled eagerness. Your eyes close to hide from the otherworldly gaze, but your lips feel even more sensitive to the weight that continues flicking and pressing at them, covering them in hot saliva. Several times does it briefly part your lips and graze your teeth, making you swallow at the thought of…
‘Don’t do that.’
Hawks pauses when you open up for him, but gives a gleeful chirp and snakes his way into your inviting mouth.
‘I’m really letting him do this.’
Clawed hands grab your arms a little too tightly and hold you in place. It hurts, yet all you can focus on is the flexible muscle exploring your mouth. It rubbed against the roof, pushed at the inside of your cheeks, and eventually stroked and curled around your own tongue.
‘You’re sick.’
But you’ve been sick ever since you got here, haven’t you?
When his grip loosens, you take the opportunity to place your hands around his head, digging your fingers into his...hair? Plumage? Was his hair always this feather-like?
A high-pitched sound of surprise leaves him when you try to pull him in closer. He quickly complies, closing the distance until his lips and mouth are covering yours.
It completely smothers your senses. You see his black wings expand to slowly encase both of you. You hear the wet friction of his tongue and the hungry growls that roll from his throat. You smell sweat and blood, briefly wondering just what exactly was he made to do during those ‘tests’. You taste the thick and flavorless saliva that makes you gag at first, but becomes easier to swallow as you take in more. And most of all, you feel him slowly moving in and out of your wide open mouth, the thrusting motion forcing your thighs to rub together in response to the growing heat threatening to consume you.
You snap out of it before that can happen.
Hawks pulls away when he hears your choked sounds of protest, your hands suddenly on his chest and pushing. Fresh oxygen rushes back into your lungs when his tongue leaves your mouth and retreats back into his. The warmth between your legs doesn’t fade away. Everything that just happened, everything you just allowed this monster to do fully sinks in.
And you fucking enjoyed it.
You back away from him as quickly as you can, ignoring his confused groans. A wave of nausea sweeps over you like a powerful gust that churns your stomach.
“Rest. I need to go.” It was all you said before you picked up the forgotten jar and fled the room, refusing to falter from the sorrowful whines behind you.
The urge to spew the little food you’ve been fed throughout the day all over the hallway floor is strong, but you manage to hold out until you reach the toilet in your room, quickly kneeling and hurling. It wasn’t much, but it still left you teary-eyed and with a burning throat.
What did you do? Just what the hell did you do that warranted getting kidnapped, having your nice comfortable life stolen from you, and the only way to cope was by making out with a horrid creature? You jolt from a painful mix of a sob and a hiccup. It’s been weeks since your last breakdown, but this new discovery was another hard blow to your sanity and pride. You let the tears flow as you flushed away your mess, moving over to your bed and collapsing onto the thin mattress. Fuck this facility. Fuck the scum that created all of this.
And fuck the throbbing wetness between your legs that still won’t go away.
Your sobs transform into humorless laughs. You’re going to have to get rid of the throbbing yourself, aren’t you? They won’t arrive to collect all of your samples for about another thirty minutes, so that should be enough time...
You pulled down the thin blue pants and rubbed your fingers over the slick that had gathered from what had transpired in Hawks’s room. It’s true, you’ve been doing nothing but sick shit since you’ve been tossed into this new life. Why do you even still hold on to feelings like shame and disgust? What good will they do you here?
So you try to drown out the voice of your conscience as you laid back, succumbing to the wonderfully twisted thoughts of a nomu’s tongue.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Examination
Quirk #3: Regeneration
Quirk#4: Heat Resistance
Notes: Our most advanced specimens deserve the best healing quirks we have to offer. Raptor is no exception. It will also make up for his lack of weight and hard muscle, not that he should ever be mistaken as frail. Most importantly, this should accelerate the regrowth of his feathers and supply him with an endless arsenal. We do not want to risk his regeneration being hindered by burns. After all, it was fire that led to the host’s death. This is why we have added a quirk that should make it almost completely fireproof.
The only people that Raptor disliked more than the Coats, were the Masks. The Coats saw him as nothing more than an attack dog that is expected to obey every command. But the humans in masks...to them, he was just a fleshy object to be dissected and analyzed.
They were poking and cutting to their heart’s content. His mind screamed to get away from the assortment of blades and needles that hovered over him, sinking into his skin in various places while he could only writhe against the cuffs of the metal table he was strapped to. He doesn’t believe it’s their intention to test every ounce of his willpower, but that sure as hell is what they’re doing right now as he tries, really tries not to use his feathers out of desperation.
“Excellent. The cuts begin healing the moment they’re made,” one of them observes. “Try deeper incisions. Maybe I should try removing one of its eyes.”
Raptor’s heartbeat was booming in his ears after hearing those words.
A younger Mask has been flinching from every one of the nomu’s movements. “Shouldn’t we sedate it or something? What if it lashes out?”
“Stop panicking. A nomu won’t hurt anyone without orders, though his responses to pain are stronger than I expected. We may have to fix that.”
Raptor wouldn’t mind that at all. He hisses and howls as he’s taken apart and mended back together in a torturous loop. His brain is throbbing so strongly one would worry that it might burst. He fights to think through all of the agony.
He thinks of your touch. He thinks of your taste. Were you repulsed by what he did that morning?
Sharp pain shot through his wings when his feathers were being forcefully yanked out, his teeth on the verge of shattering from his tightly clenched jaws.
“Perfect! Look at that, they’re already growing back in.”
They were. He could feel the fresh plumes pushing through his skin. The regeneration did well in preventing any real damage, but it didn’t make the violent tearing of his feathers any easier to bear.
The cruel assault on his wings and tail eventually ended, black fluff littering the room’s floor. He remembers when you mentioned other nomu being capable of shutting down whenever they wanted. What he wouldn’t give to just turn off like a light switch right now.
“Alright, it’s time to move on to his heat resistance. Get the torch.”
The what? Raptor searched the fragments of his knowledge; most words were familiar to him, they just took a while to be remembered from...something. He doesn’t understand how he already knows so much, even though his subconsciousness needs time to dust everything off.
One of the Masks was holding a small object that ended in a tube. With a push of a button, a small blue flame appeared.
The glowing yellow eyes that were normally slits were suddenly wider than he thought possible, every part of him hyper focused on the small fire that was getting too close to his sore wings. His mind recovered a new piece of information:
Blue flames are to be feared.
He was thrashing the second the searing pain was felt, fighting to escape, to get away from the blue death that threatened to incinerate his wings again. He has felt this before. He doesn’t want to burn again.
Panic consumed him, unaware of how much his feathers have sharpened as he beats his wings and tail against the table. He can barely hear the Masks’ frantic voices over the ear-splitting screech, a screech that he realizes is coming from his own strained throat.
“–ptor, I SAID STOP!”
“–y arm! Fuck, my arm is bleeding bad–”
“–old you he’d attack! Why is he reacting so–”
“–atives! Into his neck! Hurry!”
Needles are being jammed into his neck, the chemicals working quickly in sapping away his strength, limbs becoming too heavy to move, and his thoughts were too cloudy to even continue panicking. The scorching heat was still present in his wing, but he can still feel the presence of all of his feathers. There was no foul smell of burnt plumage.
“Aaaugh, my arm...” In the corners of his vision, Raptor saw one of the Masks hunched over and clutching a blood-soaked arm. He didn’t mean to hurt any of them.
“Shut up and go patch yourself up.” An older man motioned the rest to come closer to the calmed nomu, which they cautiously obeyed. “Do you all see it? His feathers aren’t damaged at all. Perfect.”
“But why didn’t he stop resisting after you ordered him several times? And why was his reaction to pain so strong?”
The elder grimaced behind his mask and shook his head. “Its pain tolerance is laughable. There’s no use in a nomu having such sensitivity. We’ll need to perform an operation that will dull his nerves.”
They scrambled around the table, gathering new tools and focusing the creaky hanging light on Raptor’s face. He was too doped up to even react to the harsh brightness.
“And if he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”
The nomu tried to make a sound of protest, but in his dazed state he could give no more than a pathetic whimper. He was rather thankful of the drugs for making him unable to notice just how many needles were sinking into his brain, or the blades that opened up the rest of his head, keeping the tools in place to prevent his skull from instantly healing. It still hurt, a lot. But as they tweaked his pulsing organ, injecting unknown fluids inside, the pain began to dim. Raptor would have celebrated and attempted to wag his tail in relief.
But it wasn’t the only thing that was fading. The coldness of the metal at his back was becoming distant, the chill in the air of the room was suddenly so faint that it no longer made him shiver.
He wanted it all to hurt less, but he still wanted to feel.
He has no idea how much time had passed once they finally finished and allowed his bone and flesh to close up. The old Mask stared down at him, gloves drenched in thick crimson.
“That should do it. Going by your weaker reactions, the operation was a success and you now feel less sensation. Good.”
‘No. Not good.’ It’s what he was tempted to say, but Raptor didn’t want to utter a single word to anyone besides you, and the cruel man’s recent threat of robbing him of his free will ensured that he keeps his mouth shut.
Raptor hates it here.
x---x---x---x---x
There were fresh claw marks covering the walls of Hawks’s room, and this time they were angry. The drawings and games you made together were literally slashed out, with spots of blood spread out all over the floor.
He was curled up in a corner, wings concealing most of his shaking form.
“Raptor.” Firmly addressing him is usually all it takes to gain his full attention, just like any other nomu, High End or not.
Hawks doesn’t respond at all.
That’s new...and very unnerving.
You called him again. The mass of feathers didn’t budge. You swallowed a lump in your throat. He had clearly just thrown a violent tantrum, and you don’t know if he has fully calmed down yet. Approaching him is too risky, but the damn nomu won’t even acknowledge you. So you’ll have to get through him in a more natural way.
“Raptor, is everything alright? Do you, um, need some space? I can come back a little later...maybe another thirty minutes or so.” You offered, your body slightly twisting toward the door, ready to bolt if he decided to attack. You ignored the cold hard fact that the door and your legs would do little in protecting you from him.
His tail slowly uncurls like a timid snake, wings following suit and revealing his shrunken form. He was hugging himself tightly, talons peeling the skin off of his biceps. His head hung low, but you can see the spot of red in each eye looking right at you. He looked like an angry and frightened child, and his pitiful plea didn’t help matters.
“Don’t...go.”
His vulnerable state quelled your fears, but you still took caution. “Can I come closer?”
He looks down at the floor for a moment, seemingly pondering the question, before straightening his posture and nodding.
You follow the routine you’ve been getting used to with him, setting aside the jar and taking some time to talk. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
It was supposed to compel him to instantly explain the issue, or at least attempt to with his awkward speech. You instead see him flinch and growl lowly, as if he didn’t appreciate you making demands. Just what is going on with him?
Your anxiety was probably visible since he quickly switched back to a less aggressive stance. You wince when he drags a claw through his flesh, blood leaking out for only a second before the wound instantly repairs itself. “Can’t feel.” He weeps with cracks in his unnatural voice. At least he’s dragging out his words less and sounds less like a moaning zombie.
“You can’t feel?” You repeated, edging closer and placing a hand over the healed spot. Another growl, louder this time, scares you into pulling away. But his bigger hand seizes yours and presses it hard onto the black skin. You feel the tremors that begin to wrack his body and try to stay calm in the wake of his growing distress.
His voice becomes only more broken. “Can’t feel it! Can’t feel you!”
You find yourself shushing him, holding your free hand up like you’re trying to calm a panicking animal. You cup the side of his face, but that seems to upset him even more. “You can’t feel my hand?”
He shuts his eyes and shakes his head, squeezing your hand tightly enough to cut off circulation. How freely he can emote still freaks you out a bit, face looking on the verge of shedding tears. Everything about him continues to be so surreal.
“Raptor, you’re a shitty nomu,” you told him with a small smile. “Not that I mind.”
And there goes that cute head tilt. The thought of him being released in a city to wreak havoc, just like the one that attacked Endeavor and...him, feels less possible after every meeting.
He was still powerful and potentially dangerous, if the state of the walls were anything to go by. You really shouldn’t be pushing your luck or his temper. On the other hand, you did decide yesterday that from now on, you are going to embrace the depraved dumbass within you. Hawks stiffens and starts to slowly pull back, but your hand makes its way to the back of his head. “It’s alright, it’s alright,” you soothed him. “I just want to see if you can feel any of this.”
With no more hesitation, you pressed your lips to his, feeling his shock through a surprised grunt. For a minute, you simply cover his rough lips with kisses while he stays completely still, eyes looking on the verge of bulging right out of their sockets. It looked downright silly. Why was he so shocked by a simple kiss anyway, after the way you let him ravage your mouth yesterday?
Your lips pause when you remember the distraught sounds he made that morning as he watched you rush out of the room. That’s right.
“Hey,” you murmur against him. “Sorry for taking off like that last time. Just...don’t worry about it, okay.” He released a hot breath onto your face. Your trapped hand is finally freed from his iron grip, numb and stiff, but you keep your attention on the motionless nomu. “We’re not exactly supposed to be doing this, but I want you t-mmf!”
He suddenly went forward and attacked your lips, aggressively mimicking your movements with enough force to bruise. You try to keep up and calm his pace, sighing into his mouth once his lips finally begin to slow down. He’s clumsy like you expected, but his intelligence shows when he tries to follow your lead and quickly learns the intimate dance of your mouths. The occasional swipe of that blasted tongue across your lip makes you gasp, and then you feel big strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, the beats of his excited wings, the throaty growls that rattle your entire being…
You can feel yourself heating up again already.
“Mmm, Raptor...wait,” you manage to say between kisses, your hands pushing against his chest. He gives a grating sound of annoyance, but pulls away like you wished. You were suddenly hyper aware of his size and strength – this monster that was holding you closely and taking care not to harm you. If any other nomu had you like this, they undoubtedly wouldn’t have stopped.
“So, did you feel any of that?” Your hand travels down to his groin and rubs at the bulge that still had a lot of growing to do. “Do you feel that?”
To your dismay, he shakes his head. “No,” he groans as his wings droop closer to the floor.
It has you stumped. How are you supposed to please him when his whole body is numb?
“But…” He licks his lips slowly. “Can still taste. Tastes so good.”
When you let him lap at your lips again, he twitches beneath the ragged cloth.
You put two and two together, and the realization makes you gulp. And ache.
Remember, shame is useless here.
He allows you to back away and create some distance. The sight before you is frightening on its own: The sharp stare of the raven-winged fiend while surrounded by the deep marks of its outburst would do well in intimidating any sane individual. Remembering what exactly he is makes you pause only for a second, your hands grabbing the bottom of your thin blue shirt and lifting it before your pesky conscience can even get a word in.
Hawks’s wings flare out slightly when your breasts are revealed to him, talons clicking against the floor as he shuffles about, at a loss of how to react. Relieved that you haven’t been pounced on immediately, you lean down to remove your pants next, ignoring the trembling in your hands as you pull the garment down and step out of them. They never supplied you with underwear, so with your two articles of clothing removed, you were completely nude in front of the dangerous nomu.
At first you both just stared at each other, until he finally came forward to scan your body more closely, mindful of how nervous you were. The tension made you almost choke and cough on your words.
“I-if you want to…taste more of me, go ahead.” You didn’t mean to squeak out those last two words. You blame it on the chilly air.
The hands that take hold of your hips feel extra hot, along with the breath that grazes your chest. The blue tongue slides past his lips and extends to press against the spot right over your pounding heart, then moving smoothly up the column of your neck and your cheek in one long swipe, the wet trail making you shudder. The mouth ventures close to your ear to utter the word that you remember repeating to him on the first day you got him off.
“Calm.”
It’s followed by a rolling purr that eases you into doing just that. The humming continues while he eyes your breasts, nipples already pert from being exposed to the air. Even in your more relaxed state, the sudden lick across your tit makes your breath hitch. He seems to enjoy your response and repeats the action, giving it several more laps before wrapping around the entirety of the soft globe like a tentacle, squeezing gently.
“Ah, Raptor,” you moan when the tip of the tongue flicks at your nipple, sending the tiniest of jolts through you. “Damn, where did you learn to do that?”
He answers with nothing more than a groan as he continues to show off his tongue’s flexibility. It coils and swirls around the skin until every inch of it is covered in his saliva, making you even more sensitive to the cold air. Satisfied with his work, he moves on to repeat the motions with your other breast.
The pleasure was soothing, like a massage…if the masseuse had sticky boneless limbs. You close your eyes and wrap your arms around him, letting yourself enjoy the vile act of a monster sampling your taste.
His mouth suddenly engulfs you, the damp heat adding to the ongoing feeling of his tongue dancing around your tit. The purrs abruptly become a powerful vibration that electrifies your skin and brings forth your moisture to drip and run down your thighs.
But Hawks suddenly pulls away and stares at you intensely, the glower snapping you out of your daze.
“What is it?” You were getting nervous again. Did one of your reactions irritate him?
He breathes in, again and again, sniffing at the air for something. The swaying tail hints that whatever he smells is exciting him. His head lowers in pursuit of the scent and stops at your womanly mound to take a long whiff at the spicy aroma emanating from your cunt.
With his breath now blowing right against your sex and increasing your arousal, your juices trickled freely onto the floor and for him to see. The clawed hands on your hips held you steady, preventing you from collapsing from the nerve-racking anticipation that had you shaking all over. At no point in your life have you ever felt this exposed, being ogled by a pair of eyes in which the irises were bigger than you’ve ever seen them, mesmerized by the source of the delicious smell.
The tongue slips between your thighs before you could even prepare yourself, stretching across the entirety of your lips, over your entrance, nearly reaching your ass before it pulls back toward his mouth, the rubbing of the silky muscle creating buzzes of pleasure. Looking down gives you the unpleasant view of his brain, but you also get to see him swallow and savor your taste, humming deeply in approval before salivating with the need to drink up more.
“Good.”
He doesn’t wait for your response – his face is already being shoved into you, and you’re suddenly bombarded with delightful hot sensations all over your pussy. The ravenous organ travels up and down your folds, collecting every drop of your sweet nectar while you could do nothing but spread your legs to give him more leeway – God you’re such a whore – and cover your mouth in the hope that no passerbys hear your moans in the room.
When your legs officially become jelly and can no longer support you, Hawks tires of holding you up and allows you to fall back a little too hard onto the floor, the impact making you wince. Any other time, he probably would have at least made a sound of apology, but your sopping wet pussy has stolen his attention. He wastes no time in lifting your hips up toward his waiting mouth, now utilizing his lips along with his tongue to loudly slurp up your essence.
His vicious hunger has you seeing stars. Wings open up and expand around both of you like black curtains that darken your vision, like a bird of prey mantling over a hard-earned meal. The only thing you can clearly see between your legs are the eerie glows of red and yellow; the glare of a demon that seeks to devour you from the inside. He starts to suck your folds dry, growling as he inspects every inch of the ravaged honeypot until his lips brush against your neglected clit.
A muffled “fuck!” passes between your fingers, both of your hands tightly clamped over your mouth. The reaction surprises him, and to his delight, it triggers more of your nectar to flow. The most efficient gag wouldn’t have been enough to suppress your scream when he sucked hard on your sensitive bud.
You couldn’t help it. Fighting past the paralyzing pleasure, your hands blindly grab at his head and accidentally bury your fingers into a soft squishy brain. The discomfort makes him shake his head and groan in irritation, raising his head and narrowing those menacing eyes at you as a silent warning.
“Hah...shit...I’m sor–AH! Fuck-oh my god....” He’s already attacking your clit again before you can finish your apology. All he cares about at the moment is your taste, and not even you were going to interrupt him. The surrounding wings occasionally twitch and shudder around you, vibrating along with your approaching climax. But the second you feel dangerously close, his lips leave the perky little pebble and move back down to lap at your fresh flow. It tears you away from an orgasmic finale and brings you back to that sensual middle ground. The audible licks were amazing, but you need to reach that edge. Your hand drifted down to your pussy, right over his tongue where you can give your clit the stimulation needed to cum…
“Hwrrrrrrr…”
You felt the terrifying snarl more than you heard it, shaking you to your very core. The other core, not the one on the verge of bursting. You immediately pull away and freeze, shivering and breathing quickly at the sight of his bared fangs. For a brief moment, the tent of feathers showed off a faint sheen, like they all suddenly sharpened. A quivering, fear-fueled gasp left you.
It felt like the staredown went on forever, but Hawks was eventually convinced that you weren’t going to distract him from his feast again and returned his gaze to the fragrant pussy before him. However, after a few more licks, he grunted in frustration. You weren’t secreting your precious juices fast enough; your body simply couldn’t keep up with his newfound greed.
The insatiable tongue keeps poking and prodding at your opening until it pushes in just enough to slightly stretch your walls. You struggle to stay relaxed and keep your hands to yourself. Hawks was currently as unpredictable as any other nomu, and you didn’t want to piss him off.
When the hot thick muscle is suddenly shoved into you, you don't even have time to cover your mouth and block the next scream that is ripped from your throat. There’s no time to adjust to the completely foreign sensation. It squirms inside of you like a living creature, massaging your pussy in ways you didn’t even know were possible, sometimes hitting that special soft spot.
Your molten center spreads its flames across every nerve. This is far beyond what you fantasized on the night you touched yourself. His tongue was able to fill you completely, all while moving around more freely than a cock or even fingers ever could. Too soon does it leave your pulsing walls and back into his mouth, where he swallows every drop he’s gathered before shooting his tongue back out and penetrating you again before you can even complain.
He was moving with more force, enough to create a visible swell in your stomach that moved along with his tongue. You can’t look away from it, even as he begins to push in and out at a steady rhythm, the pleasure building up to new heights while the bulge in your belly moves up and down. You’re tempted to ask him to move his wings to allow more light for a better view, but interrupting him now is probably a stupid idea.
He pants loudly from his open mouth as he fucks you thoroughly with nothing more than a long powerful tongue, his thrusts moving faster and deeper in search of more of your savory wetness.
Meanwhile, you were dizzy. It was uncomfortable at first. It’s been so long since you’ve been fully stretched, but it all quickly melds into pleasure you have long since forgotten – no – you hadn’t even known. Your interest in sex has greatly diminished during your stay here. Hell, you were certain that your libido was officially dead. But Hawks….
This abomination was going to be the death of you.
Your g-spot is suddenly struck again, and again. Most of your words were incoherent, and the ones that could be made out were nothing more than endless encouragement. “Gah-hnngh, fuck, Hawks, you want more, don’t you? Ah, I’m about to give you more. Keep going Hawks don’t fucking stop.”
Talons are biting into your skin from his tightened grip. With a low bellow of excitement, his mouth moves to cover your entire sex, prepared for the incoming downpour, and thrusts his tongue into your most sensitive spot repeatedly without mercy.
The pressure within explodes violently, completely overshadowing that laughable orgasm you gave yourself yesterday. Each contraction adds more white that flashes in your eyes, moving in from the corners of your vision until it becomes as blinding and unbearable as the bliss that washes over you. There are noisy gulps between your legs, the parched monster happily taking every rush of fluid directly into his mouth and down his throat until he finally has his fill.
Even through your spasms your walls try desperately to clamp around his tongue as it leaves, but to no avail. The looming wings finally move away and return to their usual resting spot behind his back while he sets your lower body down and licks his lips for any remaining traces of your slick. The talons never broke your skin, but they did leave some glaring marks on your hips and ass.
You still tingled all over from the waist down while your muscles make the greatest effort to respond to any of your commands. No use. You decide to lay there covered in the monster’s spit. The work of that amazing specimen of a tongue almost made you forget that this was being done to arouse him. You should probably check to see if he was hard. He may not be able to feel your hand anymore, but he still might be excited enough to cum from the act. Stupid science bastards, making your job more complicated.
“Hawks.”
The single word uttered from the nomu clears your mind instantly. Your weakened arms push you upright to properly face him. He was still crouching, scaly toes supporting the weight of his body like a gargoyle without a perch.
“You say Hawks. What...is Hawks?”
What? When did you…?
Oh. Shit. Your mouth was moving on its own while he was eating you out.
Your mind was zipping in several directions at once, hoping that he wouldn’t find anything odd about your eyes darting about, looking everywhere except at him. You settled on a simple and dismissive answer. “Oh...don’t worry about it. I was just babbling while you had me on cloud nine,” you said with a crooked smile.
Black lips twisted into a frown, accompanied by a quick beat of his wings and then...eww. His brain is pulsing way too much, so much that he shakes his head in agitation, which only adds to the disturbing visual as the organ jiggles slightly in his head. “Hawks...don’t know...I know…” His words jumbled over his inner turmoil. The long tail lifted and began to swing quickly.
You sat there, nude and bewildered. Every High-End still carried traces of who they once were, expressing some of the same behaviors and habits they presumably had before death.
This is the first time you’ve seen one with any sort of recollection of their past life, even if it’s something as minor as feeling a connection to their name. You have a feeling that’s not supposed to happen.
You shouldn’t tell him anything; nothing good will come out of it. He needs to shut up and start being a bloodthirsty killer before the doctors decide that he’s more trouble than he’s worth.
“Raptor,” your shaky legs move slowly, shifting until you’re resting on your knees, face to face with the nomu that still looks interested in your naked body even as his head throbs. “It’s not important. Stop thinking about it.”
The look he gives you is one of hurt and dammit, this is exactly his problem. “But...Hawks. Want to know what-”
“I said stop thinking!” Your volume shocks both of you, but Hawks actually recoils from the unexpected shout. You don’t care, all it does is confuse you more, anger you more. “Why the hell aren’t you listening to me anymore? That’s what you’re supposed to do! Do whatever we tell you! What, did you break?” A full-body chill reminds you of the state you’re in. You were seriously having an outburst while still completely naked with Hawks’s saliva glistening over your thighs. You groan and turn away from the troubled hybrid to grab your clothes and dress yourself, not giving a damn if you pissed him off and he decides to kill you right there. He’d be doing both of you a favor, really.
But it shouldn’t be a surprise when you see that he hasn’t budged from his spot, making no move to retaliate. “I like you, Raptor,” you admitted. “Somehow, you managed to be the only welcomed company in this fucked up hospital slash prison, but you shouldn’t be. What we just did...that shouldn’t have happened. Fuck, I – I should’ve been terrified, and I kinda was, but, I shouldn’t have felt that good!” Your doubts, your conscience, they both return with a vengeance. But this time it’s not you they’re worried about.
“If this is how you act around everyone else, you’re not going to last here.” You hold his face in your hands, a tender gesture that shouldn’t be possible with the likes of him. “These assholes are gonna get rid of you if you don’t do what they want, and they’re going to ask for horrible things. I know you don’t like killing, but if you keep up all of...this, you’re going to lose more than your sense of touch.”
He doesn’t make a sound, only staring at you before gritting his teeth and nodding in your gentle grasp. His compliance both relieves and hurts you.
“I’m sorry, but no more questions. Please? The less you know, the better.”
“No more…questions.” Dammit, you hate how clear the sorrow is in his eerie voice, like the mournful moans of a lost soul. “No more.”
You give him a smile of thanks, it’s the least you could give him. You try to bring the atmosphere back to its usual awkward yet friendly vibe. “Now, let me see if your, um, tasting did you any good.” You move to pull down his shorts. That is, until you notice the large damp spots and stains on the cheap material. Oh, he did not.
“Welp, it obviously worked. Now how am I gonna scrape this shit off?”
x---x---x---x---x
Hawks.
Flames.
Decay.
Death. Everywhere.
But, somehow, he knew it wasn’t his doing.
Maybe he did kill a few...he wasn’t sure. It’s all so blurry and nauseating.
Was he killing people? Was he…trying to save them? A monster like him, saving people?
“No more questions.”
Your voice echoes, bouncing across the shattered fragments of his mind. Raptor tries to obey. He doesn’t know what this Hawks is, or why it keeps plaguing him.
Whatever Hawks was, it’s gone. Raptor wants it to leave him alone.
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
Field Test
Quirk #5: Camouflage
Notes: As you know by now, Raptor differs from other nomu in that he is designed for agility and stealth. An invisibility quirk will not only make Raptor into the perfect phantom, it can also assist in infiltration and spying. While the quirk may be called ‘camouflage’ mainly due to how it changes skin pigmentation, it does much more than match the colors of the environment. It hides the user’s entire form as perfectly as any true invisibility quirk. Raptor should be more than capable of destroying targets without ever being noticed.
You were right. It was strange how he doesn’t discover these ‘quirks’ on his own. It was an understatement to say that he was a little lost when a Coat ordered him to activate his Camouflage. Raptor was prepared to feel those words bind his limbs and move him against his will. Whenever his brain was under the Coats’ control, he was capable of doing whatever they asked, even when he himself didn’t understand what they were asking for.
So it was worrying when he felt nothing. He heard the order loud and clear, yet it didn’t wrap around his brain like it always does.
So it wasn’t just you. His mind no longer submitted to anyone’s commands. He would have chirped in celebration if he didn’t have an audience that was still waiting for him to follow through, giving looks and comments of impatience while he stood there.
He can’t let them notice that he was unaffected. The words of the Mask that stole his touch repeated in his head along with the memories of cutting and burning, every nerve seething from raw pain until all feeling began to fade.
“If he ignores us like that again, we may need to alter his brain and ensure his compliance in the future.”
Alter...change...he doesn’t want them to change him. So Raptor tried to pretend, another thing that felt natural to him.
The process of finding his new quirk was difficult to describe; it was more like willing himself to blend in until the rest of his body got the message. All of his muscles tightened, and he almost panicked when black skin began to disappear before his eyes. His wings, his tail, every part of him looked as if it was dissolving, but he can still move and feel the weight of each limb. Once his body relaxed, he was fully invisible. The Coats kept him pinned with their stares, however.
“Completely hidden. Very good,” one of them said, writing something down. They’re always watching, always taking notes on him, always judging. This all felt familiar as well. “Now, walk from that corner to there, and keep a hold on your quirk.”
There was no pull, no sudden fuzziness or loss of control. Nothing. It’s a strange feeling, following orders because he actually chooses to. It will take some getting used to, but it shouldn’t be too difficult.
Has a monster like him ever acted before? It sure feels like it.
He performed several different tasks: running, climbing, flying, and shooting feathers. All while unseen by the naked eye. The feat even earned him a round of applause from the Coats.
“I can picture it already. He could slice apart an entire group of targets, and they wouldn’t even understand their deaths. A flurry of invisible blades!” One of them exclaimed with a smile that was way too wide given the subject matter.
“Don’t worry, we’re going to get a taste of what this is capable of right now.”
Right on cue, the doors opened. Every feather on his wings and tail bristled instantly, ready to shred whatever possible threat that may enter. They wouldn’t be able to see him. It would be so easy, just like the Coats said.
But instead of another nomu that was simpler and more violent than him, a woman was shoved into the room hard enough to make her stumble forward and fall, the door slamming shut behind her. She was dressed like you, wearing only a thin blue shirt and pants. What did they bring someone like her in here for?
She was already back on her feet, scanning the area with wide eyes and shrunken pupils before moving her gaze to the humans that continued to observe from the other side. The fear in the air was so thick that Raptor could nearly taste it as she shook uncontrollably – he wondered if her knees would collapse from the trembling alone.
He was still camouflaged; she couldn’t see him at all. The urge to reveal himself is strong, but one: the Coats had yet to order him to deactivate his quirk, and two: knowing that she was in a room with a nomu will most definitely only terrify her more, so he stayed where he was, motionless and quiet.
For a suffocating minute, the only sound was her rapid breathing until one of the Coats finally spoke up.
“Kill her, Raptor.”
“What?” The woman’s voice was constricted by anxiety. She looked timidly at the man, who only stared back expectantly, waiting for something. “W-what?” She choked out again. She switched her attention to the door, still distressed and shaking. When no horrid beast entered the room like she expected, her panic increased even more, stuttering so badly that it was a challenge to discern what she was trying to say. “I-I-I w-I won’t...I’m s-so...p-p-please.”
Her head whipped upwards to a vent in the ceiling. Nothing happened. The confused woman was now spinning around looking for something, hysterical with the knowledge that her impending doom was coming, but not knowing where or when. The weight of her dread was making him anxious.
The same Coat, however, only sighed in annoyance at the sight of the trapped panicking animal. “Don’t dawdle, Nomu.” The final word dripped with venom. It reminded him of his place: a puppet that should have no will of its own. Raptor didn’t want to kill, but if he defies them, then they will dig into his brain again, and the woman will probably be violently killed by a more enthusiastic nomu. He’s afraid of what they might take from him next. He can’t let that happen.
The shrinking woman is still whipping her head around in every direction as her bare feet take a step backwards, then another, completely unaware of the larger creature that stood right behind her. He can’t guarantee a painless death, but he can make it as quick as possible for her.
Raptor added an edge to some of his feathers, but reconsidered. That would require pinpoint accuracy, not worth the risk with a target that was moving so erratically.
His tongue curiously ran over the points of his teeth, checking their sharpness. No, that would leave too much of a mess.
His hands clenched into fists, and that’s when he practically heard the ding in his head. A simple method, but it should work just fine.
He was originally going to wait until she backed all the way into him, but that would be rather cruel. Killing her before she even recognizes the danger is a greater mercy. His hand struck with the swiftness of a snake, grabbing the back of her neck. The delicate spine could be felt beneath.
Raptor was not as strong as other nomu. That didn’t mean he couldn’t crush a human’s bones with little effort.
He felt her jolt, but that’s all she had time to do before the sickening snap and crunch sounded throughout the room, then she went limp with nothing more than a few final twitches.
Some of the Coats audibly gasped, while others clapped excitedly at the kill they couldn’t even see coming. From their perspective, an unsuspecting woman’s neck was suddenly crushed by an invisible force like an aluminum can.
One of them didn’t look very impressed. “Eh, a bit anticlimactic, don’t you think?”
“We’re not watching a bloodsport,” another one snapped. “Raptor is designed to handle matters quickly. A cervical fracture is fast and effective.”
“She was so terrible at her job. I think she deserved a terrible death in return,” another said.
Their babbling continued while Raptor placed the body on the floor more gently than his audience would have liked. Her eyes were still wide open, frozen in that moment of realization just a millisecond before death. Still, things could have been much worse for her.
“I still think we should have used his harvester instead. She’s becoming a nuisance.”
Raptor has grown to really dislike that voice, the voice of the man that takes him away every morning. He always stares at him like an expensive possession that turned out to be a waste of money. It’s an effort to keep his lips from curling over his teeth whenever the bastard’s around.
An older lady spoke. “Her relationship with the nomu is unique and warrants its own set of experiments after we cover the basics here. We already told you that.”
“Yes yes, I know. But her sample this morning was pathetic. It’s like she’s forgotten her job, too busy turning our greatest achievement into a softie. Call me petty, but I’d get a good laugh out of watching her be devoured by the nomu that she’s decided to become friends with.”
Anger.
“You are petty, and short-sighted. Do you understand just how extraordinary this relationship is?”
Another Coat butted in. “Sure, but what use is sentiment to a nomu? This was supposed to be a cold lethal predator, not a child that likes to draw on walls. I agree that the bond with its harvester is holding it back. It would be better off without her.”
Raptor hates it. He doesn’t want any of them talking about you. To think that they’d consider something as twisted as offering you to him as a helpless prisoner to execute, just like the one whose spine he had just snapped.
How dare they.
The lady was suddenly staring right at him with a look of shock before her aged lips curled into a smirk. Actually, everyone was staring at him now, and they all showed varying levels of discomfort. That’s when he noticed that he can see his hands in front of him again, along with his feet, wings, and the rest of his body. His fury made him lose his hold on the Camouflage quirk. They had all just seen his face of hatred.
And yet the lady continued to smile. “I don’t believe he agrees with you two.”
She then whispered something, lips forming what looked like the word ‘magnificent’ while her eyes bore into him. Even his rage was nothing more than a fascinating process to be examined.
Raptor wants to get out of here.
x---x---x---x---x
You’re alright. You made it out. You were bruised, but you made it out.
That High-End nearly broke your fucking arm when it came. It was always a pretty rough one when you jerked it off but for god’s sake, why did it always have to squeeze you like a stress ball? Thankfully, your painful shriek of “STOP!” was enough to penetrate the horny shield over its brain and it released you.
It wasn’t your first injury, but it’s been a while since you’ve gotten such a scare. It could’ve been worse – it could always be much worse.
The fact that you feel elated when you reach Hawks’s room shows how close the two of you have gotten in less than a week. Two prisoners who agree that this place can go fuck itself; one was pumping cocks on the daily, the other failed miserably at being a ruthless monster. They ought to make a movie out of this.
You enter the room to see him resting in the center while several feathers carve into different areas of the walls and ceiling. His understanding of shapes was becoming more complex at a rapid rate, if the current drawings were anything to go by. They looked to be unintentionally abstract faces, varying greatly in size and structure, but one thing they all had in common was oversized eyes. Every face was furiously scratched in, the sound of chiseling surrounding you and adding to the ominous aura given off by the etchings that lacked skill but teemed with raw emotion.
The scattered claw marks from yesterday are still as visible as ever. Everyday, this place looks more disturbing even with the not-so-hostile creature that occupies it.
Something prompts his feathers to stop abruptly and return to him, followed by him quickly standing up and hissing. The badly-timed hostility makes you jump back. “Raptor? What is it?” You tried to stay calm as usual.
He drew closer, eyes narrowed and teeth bared at the purplish welts on the arm that held your gazillionth jar. Oh, of course. You waved with you uninjured one. “It’s alright. One of the High Ends was being a little heavy-handed. It stings, but it’ll get better.”
Hot air hits you when he releases a snort. While he studies the bruise, you continue to examine the newest artful additions. “So...what do all of these mean?” You ask.
He follows your traveling gaze and mutters. “Watching. They’re always watching.”
He said it so smoothly that it gave you chills. “You’re tripping up less on your words. That’s, uh, good.” When a grunt is his only response, you keep talking. “Are these the doctors?” He nodded. “Did you...have to kill again?”
A beat. Then he nods again, more slowly this time. “It was easier.”
You’re not sure what to say to that, deciding to instead rest a hand on his arm. For some reason, what he said didn’t scare you. It was you who asked him to act more like a nomu, anyway.
You both stayed like that for a few minutes, standing side-by-side in the middle of the room’s crude composition that illustrated his short life. Innocence, rage, and now a feeling of powerlessness. You can relate; your progress here was very similar except that the ‘innocence’ part can be replaced with ‘grief’, having lost contact with everything you were familiar with.
“You know, maybe I can add my own additions to this sometime, if you don’t mind. Make this place our own little mural.” You giggle when his tail swings at the proposal. “There’s no way they haven’t noticed how odd of a duo we are by now. I wonder how those assholes feel about all of this.”
You’re grabbed and pulled into him so quickly that the jar slips out of your grip, rolling away as you’re pushed into a hard black chest. The tight embrace squeezes your swollen arm painfully. “Shit, that hurts!”
He whines apologetically and loosens his hold. Pain and lack of oxygen aside, it’s oddly comforting. You haven’t been hugged in ages, and here you were being held by this. A song of soft coos calm you, but there is a noticeable sad tone to them. You look up at him, chin resting on his pecs. “Raptor, I know it sucks here, and I don’t really know what to say to make things better, but I’ll keep trying to hang out with you for as long as I can, alright?” You reassure him while rubbing his chest. “Remember, you’re kind of the best thing that ever happened to this place. Not that my standards in this shithole are very high – they’re actually lower than a regular nomu’s sex drive – but it’s still an achievement you should be proud of.”
Your words did their job, if his lighter hums are anything to go by. His comforting heat was gone too soon when he gently pushed you back, following up with a press of lips against yours.
There’s no more clumsiness in his movements. He switched from light brushes that had you craving more to deep smooches that took your breath away. There wasn’t much else you could do except follow his lead. The teasing licks against your lips never fail to get you going, and he probably knows that by now. Unfortunately, you had to break apart for a breather, allowing him to cradle you as he waited.
“Who the hell have you been kissing while I’m not around to learn so fast?” You joked.
You didn’t expect him to look away and hesitate to answer before uttering, “I...remembered.”
If he was expecting that to upset you, it didn’t. You can’t stop his brain from working, and he no longer automatically gives in to any demands. You still don’t know what’s up with that. “Right,” you sighed. “Are you remembering anything else?”
“No...same things. Hawks...fire...death...I want to forget.” He pulls you in again, this time taking care not to add too much pressure to your bruises. His strangled attempts at speech have become smoother over the days, but hearing the winged hero beneath the layers of grotesque sounds that create his voice is going to take a long time to get used to. “Can...you...make me forget?”
A twinge of sadness and pity. Are his final moments the only parts that keep playing in his head, in a cruel loop? You direct all of your strength into your voice and speak. “Forget about it. Forget about Hawks and all of those foggy memories.”
He sits there and blinks with no clear sign that your words had any effect.
Then he wilts and groans in defeat.
“No good, huh?” You shrug. You truly did wish you could help him. “There’s not much else I can do, sorry.” A pause. “Must feel like nightmares, I guess. I get plenty of those.” You rest in his hold while recalling some of the fears that manifest in your sleep. “Dreams about what they’ll do when they don’t need me anymore. I never had the guts to put myself out of my misery – don’t have many options to work with anyway. Maybe I can ask a nomu to chomp my head off.”
“No.” The word was growled out, felt all around you like a small quake. You quickly try to calm him by raising your uninjured arm to hold and caress his face. You know that he couldn’t exactly feel it anymore, but the memory of your touch is probably what still managed to soothe him. It was an intimate image, touching him so lovingly while in his arms.
“Don’t worry, I’ll stick around. We can make things easier for each other.” Without a second thought, you straighten up and begin pushing down your pants, Hawks already chirping in excitement and fumbling with your shirt, his talons ripping the cloth. You were naked in front of him once again, and the memories of yesterday already have your pussy lubricating itself in preparation. Samples...semen….you weren’t thinking about any of that. You just wanted him again.
“Let’s help each other forget.”
And just like that, you were devoured. His mouth was everywhere and you happily took it all. You were addicted to his touch as much as he was addicted to your flavor. The dark blue tongue moved gracefully across your face, the small grin and lidded eyes telling you that he quite enjoyed the sight of you covered in his saliva. You opened your mouth wide as an invitation that he gladly took, the strong muscle charging straight into your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. It makes you gag and has tears pricking at your eyes, yet you continue to throb between your legs.
He fucks your mouth so fast and roughly that you’re forced to only breathe through your nose. You’re clinging onto him as you gurgle around the ravaging muscle, your nails unable to pierce his tough hide no matter how hard you grip.
Something solid rubs right against your sex, grazing your clit and leaving you moaning into his mouth. His hips were bucking into the air with a very prominent tent that constricted his growing cock.
It’s the first time a nomu’s dick actually touches you there.
And it makes your walls clench.
You get closer for more friction, trying to grind against the massive erection while he finally removes his tongue from your mouth. That’s when he notices just how hard you’re trying to get off on his bulge.
Heat is rushing to your face at his puzzled expression. “You-” You gasp, still catching your breath after having him squirm down your throat for so long. “You feel pretty good.”
He simply watches you continue to rub against him – you don’t even notice that his hips are no longer moving, you just press closer to him and grind harder in desperation. His wings flutter and the rest of his body shakes lightly, his breaths coming out in short huffs.
He was laughing.
The look of amusement is so unexpected that it has your hips stopping out of embarrassment. And here you thought nothing else could leave you flustered at this point. “You don’t have to laugh. Trust me, you’ve looked way more desperate than I have,” You tease him.
He clicks his tongue, then with a yank and a loud rip, his shorts are in tatters and his cock springs free right onto your belly. Another short round of huffs are heard from him when you squeak in surprise. Just where did this attitude even come from?
Beads of precum ooze from his pointed head and drip onto your stomach. Maybe it’s your lust-tinted lenses, but his cock is looking much more attractive than usual. Its curved perfectly to hit all of the right spots, and those ridges probably feel amazing when moving inside you.
“Want more?”
The low-pitched voice right in your ear has you shaking, like it was a question from the Devil himself. Thirst aside, you don’t know what you should say. You trust that he won’t fuck you to shreds like the other High Ends would, but the biggest issue…
“I don’t know if I should risk that,” you murmur, a hand reaching to rub the textured flesh. “As tempting as it is right now.”
His confidence is replaced with disappointment. That is, until he immediately perks back up and grabs your hips.
“Wait what are yoooo-whoa!” You’re being lifted off the floor, legs dangling uselessly as he holds you easily, your body hovering right over his twitching dick.
Panic begins to set in. “No! Nononono I said-”
“I won’t.” He says softly. As softly as he can with such a voice, at least. “Calm.”
Instead of penetrating like you feared, he lowers you until your flushed lips are resting on the length of his scaly shaft.
And then, slowly, his hips push forward.
The bumps and creases slide against you in all of the right ways. “Oooh fuck.” You adjust yourself to ensure that he rubs your clit as well. The sensation has you shuddering in his hands as the pressure inside you builds quickly. Your slick makes his dick smoother after each thrust, and when Hawks sees that you’re comfortable and lost in the rhythm, he begins to speed up.
Your legs are swinging madly at a complete loss on how to handle the electrifying friction, but the nomu grunts and takes hold of your thighs. They close around his cock, greatly increasing the pressure as he continued to fuck past your thighs. “Stay there.” The vibration from his deep raspy voice only arouses you more. His hips collide with yours after each buck.
As amazing as it feels, your hazy mind recalls that Hawks shouldn’t be able to properly revel in this outercourse. “I-I thought...you couldn’t feel this.” You say shakily.
Hawks is eyeing your bouncing form with great interest, his hips not missing a beat as he answered. “Can’t. Just watching.”
He presses down on you more, slowing down his pace with his eyes still locked on your face. His tongue quickly swipes across your forehead to taste the sweat that has mixed with his saliva. “You look good.”
Goddamn him.
You felt close, so close, but even as your limbs tingle from the pleasure, your orgasm remained out of reach. The most severe ache that had yet to be sated, to be given any attention, was inside you. You have never throbbed this much in your life, you didn’t even know that your muscles down there could even contract this tightly. The dragging of his cock against your drenched lips isn't enough. You don’t care about risk anymore. Not after feeling what he has to offer.
There’s no voice telling you how stupid you’re being right now. It already gave up on you.
Good.
“Haw–shit–Raptor, inside. I need you inside.” You beg between your moans. He stills completely, which has you whining and squirming even more.
“Inside?”
Hearing him say it sobers you up a bit, but not enough to kill your desire. “Just pull out before you cum, alright? Think you can do that?” You ask.
He nods eagerly, wings and tail moving with glee as he lifts you off of his dick that was already lubed up by your natural fluids. He angles himself until the head is pressing at your twitching entrance.
You can’t tell if you’re trembling from excitement or fear. Probably both.
The fine tip already has you being stretched wide, burning and stinging in spite of your pussy’s preparation. It makes you wince and want to close your eyes – to create some distance between you and the pain – but your curiosity has you looking down to watch him enter you, inch by inch. You can once again see your stomach distend as it attempts to accommodate the large intrusion, much bigger than the slithery tongue that previously invaded it.
But it’s exactly what you craved, the unique texture feeling even more delicious when inside of you. Your toes curl and legs quiver from his girth; not as meaty as the other dicks that you’ve treated, just enough extra thickness to give you a stretch that you’ve never experienced, without causing serious harm.
He reaches the end of your cavern with a few more inches to spare, and the drawn out moan slipping past his lips surprises both of you. You try to relax around him while he fights the urge to move. Black shaky wings expand behind him.
“Feel…” He gasped and choked, one would think that he was trying to learn speech all over again. “Can feel...squeezing. So gooood.” The last word came out as a strong rasp against your face.
The new discovery has you smiling, one of your hands rubbing at a much larger one around your waist. “You can feel it? You feel how tight I am, Raptor? How badly I want you to stay inside me and never leave?” He may not be able to feel your heat or your dampness, but it looks like he can’t escape the pressure from a cunt’s death grip.
He twitches inside, making you jolt. Oh, how quickly the tables have turned.
You scratch under his chin. Numb as he is, he still tilts his head like a pet dying for affection. “Then I want you to fuck me. Stop thinking, and just move...” You bring your face close to his, pulling off a seductive look and tone even when impaled on him. “...Just like a good nomu.”
Perhaps Hawks had a submissive kink when he was alive. It would explain why that riled him up so much that he was already slamming into you with absolutely no warning.
It hurts. It hurts so fucking good. Every thrust tears a helpless cry out of your body. The scales grind against every nerve around your hole, while the ones deeper inside nudge your velvety walls as they move in and out, in and out.
You couldn’t talk between your screams, not with how violently he was pounding you. Your arms and legs wrapped around him and hung on for dear life with your face buried in the crook of his neck. His own muscular arms wrap around you in a deceptively loving embrace, pumping into you with a rhythmic smack smack smack. All you can do is reap what you sow and take it.
This wasn’t just for you, this was for Hawks as well. You gave him something that he could feel again. What began as whiny gasps for air soon became rolling growls that vocalize a need for more.
Your orgasm barely sticks out of the continuous blinding pleasure as he plows harder through your spasms, your contracting muscles wrestling with the merciless cock to hold it inside.
His tone is dark. Vicious. “Tight. So tight!”
It makes your greedy body want even more. “Oh, good job, Raptor. Such a good boy.” You praise him, feeling the brief falter in his movements. He really does like that. “Go ahead and take it all, as much as you need-ah. Don’t worry about me. Fuck me until I can’t think.”
The violent sex stops and you’re being ripped away from that wondrous cock in the blink of an eye. Before you can even question what’s happening, your world begins to spin until you’re suddenly on the floor. You’re getting adjusted onto your hands and knees right before being pierced again with a force that shoves you forward.
Your thoughts struggle to keep up with the lightning-fast sequence of events, hindered even more by the warmth of the body hovering right over you. Hawks too was on all fours, though he looked much more comfortable and natural, wings fully spread out in a proud and dominant display as he throbbed inside of you.
His hips snap forward, already at a rapid pace that rocks you with each hard impact and soon has you howling again. The floor was filled with uneven cracks and scratches that scraped your knees, not that the discomfort was easy to notice while you were being drilled into. As you latched onto one of his arms for support, you noticed right in front of you, was your first game of tic tac toe.
Drool dripped down from the snarling jaws above you and onto the innocent group of lines and shapes.
The mounting beast humped you with every ounce of energy he had. Your aching pussy couldn’t take it. Too hard...too big... you’re cumming again around his pistoning cock, moans melting into defeated sobs. The huge pair of swinging balls occasionally smacked right into your oversensitive clit. You were losing the will to hold yourself up, gripping his supportive arm more tightly while your thighs quivered. Even if you had the strength to, you had no plans to ask the feral savage to stop.
He currently wasn’t anything like the gentle experiment you’ve befriended in just a few days. Right now, with his head thrashing around and flinging spittle everywhere as he barked, and wings beating hard against the floor, he was terrifying. Powerful, hungry, and single-minded.
So this is what it’s like to give in to a nomu.
It’s scary.
It’s thrilling.
Every fast agonizing stroke right against your cervix takes your breath away, your mouth eventually just hanging open in an attempt to capture whatever oxygen it could into your lungs. Hawks curls into himself so that he can crane his neck and look at you, saliva flowing freely down his chin. Each breath came out as a throaty growl wafting against your sweaty face. He takes one look at your parted lips, and stuffs you with his tongue.
If your thoughts were more coherent at the moment, you’d wonder how the hell the muscle was strong enough to be able to move into your throat as hard as the dick that continued to wreck your insides. His hips assisted in gagging you even more with each thrust. The threat of asphyxiation only brought you closer to your next orgasm.
Your mind was empty, save for the immoral thoughts that have long since driven off their more honorable competition.
Just use me.
Your entire body was on fire, getting pummeled from both ends.
Just use me however the fuck you want.
Hawks is suddenly bombarding your cunt with short and speedy ruts of his hips, and that does it. Your limbs give out and leave you to plop onto the floor as your pleasure blooms all over. But his long tongue follows you, still pushing into your whimpering mouth to deprive you of much-needed air. He simply lowers himself and proceeds to fuck you hard into the ground, pressing your skin into his many carvings.
His tongue leaves...your eyes rolling back….
Hawks releases a horrid cry that sounds like both a roar and a bird-like shriek.
Exhaustion…
Hawks is too lost in the surprising sensations, dull but still intense, to realize that he’s shooting his thick load into your womb
Warmth...full...sleep.
x---x---x---x---x
“Get up.”
The voice is muffled as you slowly come to. Whatever you’re resting on doesn’t feel like your bed.
“I know you’re awake. Hurry and get up.”
You’re surrounded by warmth, by something breathing. Pain shoots through your back and legs when you stir. When you open your eyes, you see the golden eyes of a High End.
The fear does well in masking your aches as you scramble out of the arms of what turned out to be Hawks, who was lounging on his side like a giant cat.
And standing at the door, was the damned doctor that you had the privilege of seeing every day.
His stare looked even more judgmental than it usually did. Full-on disgusted, actually. Realizing that you’re still naked, you grab one of Hawks’s wings that were splayed out on the floor to shield yourself.
He simply shakes his head. “I’ve already seen enough. And heard enough.”
Oh shit.
Oh shit.
“I-I…” you stammer, panic rising in your chest as you’re unable to come up with any sort of explanation. You even turn to Hawks, like he’d somehow provide you with the answer.
“I normally don’t care what deplorable methods you people use to collect your samples, but going by the filth between your legs...” That prompts you to look down, and the second you do, you already feel a dense fluid oozing out of you and running down your legs that were stained with white. “...you actually allowed Raptor to inseminate you.”
His words, along with your accelerating heartbeat, thunders in your ears. Hawks is watching his seed leak from your raw pussy. He remains still and quiet, uncertain of how to act in the presence of a doctor.
“To think that someone would deliberately let a nomu breed them. I know that the two of you have gotten close,” His eyes skimmed past the many images and markings in the room. “But just how depraved do you have to be to go this far with a nomu?”
If this was before the days you allowed Hawks to touch you, you would have felt embarrassed. You are scared. Not only did he cum inside you, you’ve also been caught right after the act.
But any sort of shame?
You had the nerve to huff, still hiding your body from him not out of shyness, but because the asshole didn’t deserve the view. “I guess we’re all sick fucks around here,” you retort.
The glare on his glasses add to the intimidation factor of his glower. He takes a step forward and gives a quick tilt of his head. “Get dressed. You’re coming with me.”
Both you and Hawks are taken back. “For what?”
He scowls even harder. “Still asking questions? You’re lucky that you’re valuable right now. You have most likely been impregnated. This is an unexpected opportunity to observe one of Raptor’s offspring. We’ll be watching over you until the birth.”
You don’t move, still soaking in every word. This most definitely was a mistake. Not only are you going to be taken away from Hawks to be cooped up in a room with constant surveillance, you’re going to have a...fuck.
You feel the wing in your grasp vibrate softly, Hawks sensing your distress and attempting to silently reassure you.
“I said get dressed,” the doctor ordered impatiently. “Or are you still basking in the afterglow?” He snickered at his own joke before walking forward, ready to take you by force.
That’s when the nomu in the room finally stood up to step right in front of you, standing tall in all of his naked glory and easily towering over the man.
You had to give the guy credit for not looking phased by the very dangerous creature blocking his path. Then again, maybe he was just so sure that Hawks wouldn’t harm him in any way.
“Out of the way, Raptor.” Strong and firm. It’s the tone that ensures a nomu’s obedience, but you know by now that Hawks’s mind has grown beyond that.
As expected, Hawks doesn’t budge, still looking down with eyes of liquid gold.
The doctor only looks more annoyed, not afraid. “I knew you were defective,” he sneered. “Always hesitating during tests. Such wasted potential, yet the others insist on keeping you around. To do what? Decorate rooms? The idiots should have altered your brain by now.”
What?
Hawks still didn’t move. The lack of reaction was beginning to get to the man’s nerves, his hands balling into fists as he contemplated what action to take next. You stayed mostly hidden behind Hawks, anxiously looking past his wings.
When he accepted that the nomu wasn’t going to move, and forcing his way past him was too dangerous of an option, he smirked. “Fine, then. You’re only making yourself look worse. I’m certain I can convince them to move forward with that operation after they see how defiant you’re being right now.”
No! You feel so damn useless. The bastard wanted to change him into something more compliant. How much would that change Hawks himself? You don’t know if there’s anything you can do that won’t just end with you being thrown into the lion’s den.
The doctor placed two fingers to his temple. Fuck, his quirk.
“Backup needed in South Hall, room five o’ ni-”
He stopped. Pure shock took over his face, words replaced with the faintest choked sounds. You truly considered asking if he was feeling alright.
Until a thin line of red appeared at his throat, blood oozing out, the bleeding getting heavier by the second.
“What. The. Fuck?” Your breaths were becoming too short as you watched him crumple, the liquid crimson quickly pooling around him. “What the fuck is going on?”
The confusion and fear was making you delirious. God, you were going to pass out again, this is too fucking much, this asshole was about to take you away because you have a monster growing inside you and then he was going to turn Hawks into a regular High End but now he’s dead but who the fuck killed him and what’s about to happen to you-
“Calm.”
A large hand on your shoulder grounds you, steadying your breathing and expanding your tunnel vision. Hawks is in front of you, releasing soft coos.
“Wha–how–wha…” Your shaky lips are unable to form words, but he seems to understand. Something materializes right in front of you. Small, black, and sharp. It’s a feather, floating between the both of you. “What?” You finally spit out.
“Camouflage,” that’s all he says, as if that explains everything. Since when was he able t-
Whatever. There’s too much shit happening right now.
Still shaking, you look to see the doctor still bleeding, some of the blood flowing into the engravings and painting them red.
“Y-you killed him?” You whisper.
He nods, staring apathetically at the body.
“But, I thought you didn’t…” You trailed off, too stunned by everything that has happened to finish.
He turned his attention back to you, red irises – as red as the blood that continued flow – staring into your frightened eyes. “It gets easier.”
Once again, you’re not sure what to say to that.
He looks to the door. “More coming soon.”
Right, whoever the doctor was contacting must be wondering why his telepathy was suddenly cut off.
“I want to leave.”
“Leave? Like, you want to escape?” Another nod. “That’s...I don’t know if that’s possible. There are villains around here. Strong villains. Shit, they might release some of the nomu on us!”
“You want to stay?”
Your mouth opens, then closes.
“I’m strong, and fast.” His wings unfurl and sharpen every feather, his tail curling around you so that you can see the knifelike plumes on it. “Can heal very fast and blend in. Can do a lot.”
The display and simple explanation reminds you that you haven’t seen any of his combative skills firsthand. This is what they made him for.
Well then…
“Right, then how about we give them a final test?” Just when you were finally calming down, adrenaline is already being pumped back into your veins. “Let’s show them how unstoppable their latest work is.”
His little peep of agreement nearly ruined the moment, but it reminds you why you’ve grown so fond of him.
He turns around and crouches, motioning you to climb onto his back and wrap your arms around his neck. It was awkward, mostly due to the wings that you were squishing under you, but when you voiced your worries he just gave you an “It’s fine.” He warned you to hang on extra tightly whenever he gets low to the ground. He’s a much faster runner on all fours.
Stepping over the corpse that has bled dry, he stopped at the door and braced himself.
“Ready?”
Your arms and legs were secured around him. You breathed in through your nose then out through your mouth.
Breath in. Breathe out.
A lot of death and destruction is probably about to come your way.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
It would be great if you never had to fill another jar ever again.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Your clammy skin hasn’t felt sunlight in fucking forever. Are the heroes even still alive out there?
Breathe in. Breathe out.
You try not to think about what’s happening in your womb.
“I’m ready.”
The door is pushed open.
x---x---x---x---x
Targets first spotted at 12:50
The old surveillance cameras flicker and lag. It makes noticing the running black figure all the more difficult. On most screens, you’ll see nothing more than a blur. There will be the occasional confrontation with villains, sometimes accompanied by researchers with incapacitation quirks. More often than not, the escapees easily outmaneuver them, crawling and leaping on every surface and zooming past their potential captors before they can even follow.
Some of the stronger villains and nomu slow the duo down only briefly before they collapse from an unseen force. The recovered bodies possessed deep cuts across major arteries or accurate punctures in their major organs.
Some footage shows the two sometimes climbing into vents, temporarily escaping the cameras.
The woman on the High End’s back was injured during the fatal showdown at the hospital’s exit, enraging it to the point where it swiftly killed everyone in its vicinity, including fleeing researchers that were only caught in the crossfire.
Targets escaped facility at 13:09
x---x---x---x---x
Subject: Raptor
SUBJECT HAS ESCAPED.
NOMU IS HIGHLY DANGEROUS. TAKE EVERY PRECAUTION IN RETRIEVING IT.
Some things are too good to be true. It turned out that Raptor’s brain has, shall we say, faulty wiring. Several observations have noted him hesitating upon certain commands. This should not be a constant problem with any High End. I don’t understand why they did not immediately work on this issue. It’s possible that they feared irreversible changes to his unique mind.
I personally believe that many of these flaws are the result of a compassionate host. The hero Hawks was unmistakably a gifted combatant, probably the most gifted individual the facility has gotten their hands on, but his attitude did not translate well into the role of a nomu. On the bright side, I never thought I’d ever see nomu, let alone a High End, show such genuine fondness over a human. I believe it’s worth another try in the future.
But for now, we should stick to what works. There are more than enough lowly criminals to go around.
#Hawks#smut#nomu#noumu#terato#monster fucking#hawks x reader#shh the doctors don't know about shirakumo#happy october?#tw blood#tw death
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Unofficial Fathers
MAIN MASTERLIST
Avengers x Teen!Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5,450ish
Requests: I put two requests together for this one. I hope that it’s okay.
1-What about one with the Avengers and reader (maybe they have super speed???) where the reader is a teenager and super stressed out for whatever reason so the Avengers decide to get them moving by doing something with water (like water guns, balloons, slide, etc) with them. Just like fluff, I think it’d be kinda cute
2-Can you write an avengers x teen!reader, where she lost function in both of her legs, which makes her really sad and depressed? The others have to help her with everything and she feels bad, so she ends up trying to do things herself, but gets hurt. Maybe steve and tony play a more significant role. Thanks!
Warnings: angst / fluff / paralysis / wishing to have died
“Hey Speedy!” Tony called over the comms. “You’re up!”
“Finally!” You exclaimed.
The mission had started almost an hour ago, and the plan had been for you to hang out in the quinjet until you were deemed needed. Which annoyed you. Even though you were barely 17, you had been a part of the Avengers for almost 3 years. Longer than even Peter Parker.
Due to some freak accident during the Battle of New York, you somehow ended up with super speed abilities. That’s how Steve and Tony found you almost 3 years old. The two were in the city for meetings and you were zooming around helping people and playing pranks. You thought it would be fun to do something to those two. But before you could do something, Tony and Steve had you pinned to the wall with part of the Iron Man suit. Apparently, their ‘meeting’ was to actually find you and bring you in.
The whole Team was interested in getting to know you very quickly and get you properly trained. Natasha, Clint, Bucky, and Steve handled your combat training personally, while Tony and Bruce tested your abilities and created gear that would help you.
Steve and Tony, though definitely not a couple, took on the role of your parents. You even had begun calling them as such. Steve was Pa and Tony was Dad. They didn’t always agree on exactly how to handle you. But they loved you and that was a step above your real parents, who you didn’t even know.
“Y/N! I need you to get in the building and get anyone and everyone out!” Steve instructed. “As fast as you can! I think the building is going down!”
“You got it Cap!” You responded.
Using your super speed you rushed out of the quinjet and into the building. You zig-zagged through each floor. The first few were empty, but eventually you ran into some people. You quickly helped them out of the building to continue your search. You were almost done with you sweep when you felt the building tremble. You paused, glancing around.
“Kid!” Tony shouted in the comms. “The building is going down. Where are you?”
“Uh… I don’t think you want to know,” you responded.
“Please tell me you’re not still in the building, Y/N,” Steve said.
“I’m sorry, Pa. I’m almost done with my sweep. Just one last floor.”
“No, Y/N! Get out of there now!”
“Just one more floor!” You sped away to get to the last floor.
“I’m on my way to you, Y/N,” Tony said. “Meet me at the Northwest window.”
“Alright. I’m almost—“
You suddenly heard a loud cry. You turned to see a little girl huddled up in the corner as the building’s tremor’s worsened. Rushing to the little girl, you barely missed the ceiling caving down and breaking the floor.
“I’m outside the window, kid!” Tony exclaimed. “You need to get here, now!”
“There’s a kid in here!” You retorted, grabbing the little girl. You sped to the window. “You need to take her.” You held her out to Tony.
“Not without you!”
“Just take her, Dad! Please!”
He quickly took her from your arms. “Don’t do anything! I’ll be right back!”
He flew off and the floor began to crack worse beneath your feet. You knew, even with your super speed, that you wouldn’t be able to make it out of the building without Tony coming for you. When another section of floor collapsed, you knew you needed to get out of there.
“Dad!” You shouted.
“I’m almost there, honey!” He responded. “Just hang on!”
The floor cracked beneath you, sending you falling. You grasped onto the ledge.
“Dad!” You screamed.
“Almost, there—“
“AHHH!”
The building’s roof collapsed, with the rest of the building following. You were pushed down with the debris, screaming.
“Y/N!!!” A multitude of voices screamed over the comms.
But you didn’t hear anything else, because you landed with a thud, hitting your head and blacking out before the rest of the building landed on you.
~~~
“Tony, come take a rest,” Clint urged. “At least drink something.”
You had been stuck under the building for hours at this point, with Tony working non-stop to try and get to you.
“I can’t,” Tony responded. “My kid’s down there.”
“Scott’s almost here, he’ll shrink down and see what’s going on.”
“I can’t afford to waste a second.”
“Stark, we don’t know if moving any of this will make it worse for her,” Bucky said. “We could just be killing her faster.”
“You don’t think I know that!” Tony spun around. “But she’s the closest thing I have to a daughter! And I’ve already let her down once today.”
“You didn’t let her down.”
“I’m the one who told her to go into the building,” Steve said, everyone able to feel the self blame in his words. “I did this to her.”
“Stop with the blame game here, guys,” Clint interrupted. “Y/N wouldn’t want that. Now, we need—"
“I’m here! I’m here!” Scott yelled, running up with Hope. “Romanoff and Banner got us hooked up to cameras and we brought extra Pym particles so that we can get her out of there.” He briefly made eye contact with Tony and Steve. “We’re going to get her out of there.”
“We’ve got this,” Hope confirmed.
Shrinking, the two quickly got into the rubble. The others rushed over to the screens so that they could hear and see what was going on. It was dusty, that much was clear. But the couple were quick to follow FRIDAY’s leads on where to go. The AI was trying to to its best to sense were you were by heat signatures.
“Miss Y/N should be just below,” the AI informed the two in the debris.
“There she is,” Steve breathed out, seeing your head on the screen. It was clear that blood had been, or still was, coming from somewhere on your head. “Tell us what’s going on guys. What’s her status?”
“She’s breathing,” Hope confirmed. “She’s scratched up, but it looks like the bleeding as stopped.”
“She’s lost quite a bit of blood,” Scott added. He turned, revealing her bottom half, squished under a large piece of cement. “That’s not good.”
“Shit,” Tony whispered. “No.”
“We need to shrink her before the damage gets worse,” Hope said. “Get on the other side of her, Scott.”
“On it,” Scott replied.
“You ready?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Shrink her in 3, 2, 1.”
Your body was quickly shrunk. Hope and Scott quickly worked together to secure you to Hope.
“Okay, she’s secure,” Scott said. “We’re on our way up.”
“You’re going to want to get everything ready,” Hope warned. “We aren’t going to want to bring her back to normal size without being ready to work.”
“Helen Cho is waiting back at the compound with her team,” Bruce informed. “Natasha and I have the quinjet ready to stabilize her as much as we can on the way.”
“Steve, Tony, you may want to stay away. It’s worse than the camera’s probably caught.”
“Not a chance.” / “Like hell!”
“Hope is right,” Clint said. “Bruce needs to be able to check her out with out you two hovering.” He looked at Bucky, the two seemingly having a silent conversation. They both took a step towards the two other men. “When they bring her out, we can’t have you two going all papa bears.”
“We’re in the quinjet,” Scott informed.
Clint and Bucky were quick. Bucky went for Steve, fighting with him to slow him down. Clint quickly shot an arrow at Tony’s arc reactor, shutting down the suit and effectively locking Tony in it. While that was happening, the others raced to the quinjet, getting it off the ground before the four men could get there.
Scott normalized himself first before helping Hope with herself and Y/N. Natasha and Bruce were waiting, ready to grab you as soon as they could. You were limp in Bruce’s arms, so incredibly so that it scared even the Hulk to his core. He and Natasha worked quickly and efficiently together to do everything they could before getting to the compound.
Back at the site, the four men had slowed down their fighting.
“How could you do that Clint?” Tony asked, clearly hurt as he was able to get his helmet off. “You have kids. You should understand the need to be with them when they’re injured.”
“I do,” Clint replied. “That’s why we knew we needed to stop the two of you.”
“Whatever happens, it’s going to be hard,” Bucky said. “And they need to be able to fully evaluate her. It was either this or sedation… We’re sorry. We want to be there for her too."
~~~
It was two hours before Cho had finished running all the tests and an hour after that before Tony and Steve could wait at your bedside. You were all bandaged, bruised, and scrapped, but you were alive. That’s all that really matter. The test results had yet to come back, so the men had to try and be patient. You sucked in a breath, alerting the men to the possibility of you waking up.
“Y/N?” Steve softly called. “You there, doll?”
“Pa?” You rasped, head turning towards the sound of his voice while your eyes crept open.
“Hey.” He smiled.
“Hi, kid,” Tony said.
You turned to look at him. “Dad.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Like I feel a hundred feet and then a building landed on me.”
“We’re not surprised there,” Steve commented.
“Hey, Y/N,” Helen Cho greeted as she walked into the room with her tablet. “How are you doing? Any unusual pain?”
“Well the drugs you’ve given me are trippy,” you replied.
“Drugs?” She repeated concerned, glancing at Tony and Steve.
“Yeah. I can feel my upper half, but my waist and below are completely numb. What did you give me, doc?”
Helen immediately went to work. She tore off the blankets covering your feet and immediately began running her pen up and down them.
“What’s going on?” You asked, trying to sit up.
“Steve, go get Bruce,” Helen ordered. Steve nodded and rushed out.
You looked at Tony. “Dad? What’s going on?”
“I-I— oh my gosh,” Tony stammered, hand covering his mouth.
“Dad!”
“We didn’t give you any pain meds, Y/N,” Helen stated.
“What?”
“We wanted to see if there was any damage done, so we didn’t want the pain meds getting in the way.”
“So… I—I… I can’t…” You began hyperventilating. “I…”
“Honey, lay down,” Tony urged, gently pushing you onto the bed. “Breathe.”
“I’m here!” Bruce said, hurrying in with Steve. “We need to get her into the scanner and compare it to the other tests we’ve taken.”
Helen quickly went to the head of your bed, unlocking the wheels. All of this was scaring you.
“Dad?” You looked at Tony, teary eyed, before looking at Steve. “Pa?” They both grasped one of your hands.
“We’re right here,” Steve said, bringing your hand up for a kiss as Helen and Bruce began to wheel you away.
“You both need to stay here, while we run the scans,” Bruce said.
“No! Please!” You pled, crying.
“I’ll be with you, Y/N. Tony and Steve just need to stay here.”
Bruce and Helen pushed you away as you begged and cried out for Steve and Tony. The rest of the Team rushed into the hallway to see what was happening. They witnessed you being pushed down the hall.
“What the hell is going on?” Sam asked, looking into the room where Tony and Steve had been left. Both men looked distraught, and absolutely heartbroken.
“Steve?” Bucky questioned.
“She… She… I…” Steve couldn’t pull his thoughts together.
“Tony?” Natasha questioned.
The man fell back into a chair, burying his head in his hands. “She couldn’t feel her legs,” Tony whispered. “She couldn’t feel her legs.”
“She thought they had given her pain killers,” Steve continued, whispering as well.
“Steve, sit down,” Bucky said, moving to help his friend. “You look like you could pass out.”
“I might… she couldn’t feel her legs…”
“She’s going to be alright,” Sam said. “Y/N’s a fighter.”
“Yeah, but… she couldn’t feel her legs…”
~~~
After getting you into the scanner, Bruce and Helen actually gave you drugs to help you calm down. You were asleep almost as soon as they were injected. The two doctors worked together to look over each scan and previously done test. Only to reach the same conclusion each time. You were paralyzed. This brought on a multitude of worries, but the biggest one had to do with your abilities. Would you ever be able to use them again?
After finding out about the diagnosis, it was the first question to leave Tony’s lips. Tony and Steve were standing outside your med-bay room, Helen and Bruce in front of them. The two doctors sighed, glancing at one another.
“No,” Bruce answered. “She wouldn’t be able to use her abilities again.”
What they didn’t know was that you had woken up just in time to hear Tony ask the question and Bruce answer it. Covering your mouth, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to stop from sobbing.
“She’s going to need help with everything, especially right now,” Helen continued for Bruce. “She’s going to need to be looked after. And I—“
“We’ll do it,” Steve replied, firmly. “We’re her family, we’ll take care of her.”
“I know that you two—this whole team, sees her as family. But this is going to be a long, hard road.”
“What are you saying?” Tony asked. “That we send her away? She’s almost 17! Who would be willing to adopt her at that age? Especially when we are her family!” He motioned between himself and Steve. “We are her fathers!”
“I understand, Tony. But you need to be prepared. She’s going to need help with the little everyday things. Bathing, getting changed, going to the bathroom. Somebody’s going to need to help her with it.”
“We will,” Steve repeated, still as firm as before. “Whatever she needs, for as long as she needs it. Whether it’s officially legal or not, she is our daughter and we will help her through it all.”
“I can make her braces,” Tony said. “Just like I did with Rhodes.”
“We actually believe that it would be more valuable if she learns to live with a wheelchair first,” Bruce responded. “Just in case anything were to happen with the braces, that she wouldn’t be completely helpless.”
“I agree with Bruce on this one,” Steve said. “She needs to be able to live in a wheelchair before she tries braces.”
“We will have her in physical and occupational therapy such, so she doesn’t lose all the muscles in her legs.”
Just then, Wanda rushed passed them, heading for your door. “Wanda?” Steve questioned. “What’s going on?”
“The pain,” Wanda replied. “She’s in so much pain.”
Following Wanda into the room, they witnessed you trying to control your emotions. Though it was clear you were upset. Tony and Steve rushed to either side of you.
“It’s okay, honey,” Tony whispered, wiping tears off your cheeks. “It’s okay.”
“N-no…” you rasped, shaking your head. “It’s… n-not…”
“Did you hear what we were talking about?” Steve asked. You nodded. “I’m so sorry, doll. You shouldn’t have had to find out that way.”
You couldn’t stop the sobs at this point. You had just gotten the worse news you could have imagined. You were paralyzed and know unable to use your abilities. In your mind, you were basically useless.
Steve quickly got into bed with you, pulling you into his arms. As he cradled you, he tried to get you to calm down. He glanced around worriedly at everyone else in the room, who didn’t know how to help.
~~~
“You need to eat, Y/N,” Tony pressed, trying to hand you a plate again.
“I’m not hungry,” you replied, voice void of all emotion.
You had fallen asleep in Steve’s arms, where the two of you stayed until morning. Tony brought in breakfast while Steve went to get ready for the day.
“You need to eat,” he said again.
“I said, I’m not hungry,” you repeated.
Tony sighed, seating the plate down. “Do you not like waffles? I can have Happy go get something else. A burger? Fries? Ice cream?”
“I want my legs back.”
“Kid—“
“Don’t try to make me feel better about this. You have no understanding about how I am feeling.”
“I wasn’t trying to. I just—“
“Can you leave me alone? I want to be alone.”
Tony knew that you just needed a moment. So without responding, he got up and left, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wall next to it, running a hand down his face. The guilt he was feeling was real. If only he had grabbed you and the kid, or if he had just flown faster.
“You’re going there too?” Steve asked, coming up to lean on the wall across from Tony.
“The guilt is real,” Tony responded.
“Yeah… I shouldn’t have had her go into the building. What was I thinking?”
“I shouldn’t have let her convince me to take the kid… but, I guess, feeling this way won’t do her any good now, will it?”
“No, unfortunately, it won’t.” Steve looked at the closed door. “How is she?”
“She refused to eat… I’m thinking about having Happy get all her favorite foods for lunch.”
“Good idea. Maybe we could even try the wheelchair out and bring her to the common area.”
“I like it.”
“I’ll let everyone know about it.”
“Yeah, I—“
“Excuse me, Boss, Captain,” FRIDAY interrupted. “But Y/N is in need of immediate assistance.”
~~~
After Tony left, you huffed. This was miserable. You didn’t want to be stuck in this bed. And, honestly, the longer you sat there, the more you needed to go to the bathroom. You just didn’t want to ask for help, you didn’t want that to be your life. Studying the distance between your bed and the toilet for a few moments, you decided to get there yourself. Besides, they hadn’t tried to stand you up and get you to walk, maybe this was all one big cruel joke.
Taking a deep breath, you flung your covers off. You pushed yourself towards the edge of the bed, helping your legs to rest over it. Other deep breath in and you pushed yourself off the bed, trying to stand. You immediately fell. Trying to brace yourself, you landed on your hands. One of your wrists cracked, failing to break your fall. In the midst of the struggle, your bladder decided to let loose, causing you to lay in a pool of your own pee. You clutched your wrist close to your chest as your door burst open, revealing two extremely worried men. You looked at them, with tears cascading down your cheeks.
“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I just wanted to do something by myself.” They looked at you with complete pity, which you absolutely hated.
“It’s okay,” Steve said, getting on the floor beside you, minding the puddle. He noticed your wrist. “Did you hurt yourself?”
You nodded. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ll go run and get you clothes, sweetheart,” Tony said. “Steve will help you into the shower. It’s all going to be okay.” He rushed out.
“No it won’t,” you whispered as Steve scooped you up into his arms. “It will never be again.”
And Steve thought his heart couldn’t shatter more than it already had. As he lifted you, he could practically feel the weight that this was having on you. You wouldn’t look at him as he took you into the bathroom and set you on the shower floor.
“Can I help you undress?” Steve asked.
You inhaled sharply, closing your eyes. This was your life now. Though you could undress yourself, you would always need help, basically be waited on all the time.
“If you want, I can go grab Natasha,” Steve suggested. “Or Wanda. Or, Pepper might even be in today. You love Pepper.”
“I want to be alone,” you mumbled.
“Y/N, I just want to help. Just let me help.”
“And I just want to be alone.” Tears were still falling, though you couldn’t understand how.
“Y/N—“
“Just leave me alone!” You shouted, pushing yourself into the corner.
“What’s going on in here?” Tony asked, bringing in the clothes with Pepper following.
“Leave me alone!”
“Why don’t you guys wait outside?” Pepper suggested. “I’ll help Y/N.”
Steve sighed, straightened up from his kneeled position and hurrying out of there. Tony looked at you sadly before taking his leave. Pepper shut the door and came to your side.
“What do you want me to do?” She asked softly.
“I want to be left alone,” you responded, frustrated and not willing to look her way.
“That’s not going to happen and you know it, Tony and Steve won’t allow it. Those men out there care about you and are so extremely worried. All they want to do is help.”
“I don’t care.”
She let out a small sigh. “Will you at least let me help? We need to get you out of those clothes and washed up. Especially since that wrist needs to get checked out.”
After a moment, you gave in and looked at her. “Okay.”
Pepper smiled at you briefly. “Okay.”
~~~
Apparently, there was already a hairline fracture in your wrist because of the accident. Your fall off the bed didn’t do anything to help it. You had willingly let Pepper help you clean up, but other than that you were still fighting asking for help.
The Team had tried to lift your spirits at lunch out in the common area, but to no avail. After that, you were taken to your regular room, where a twin bed had been added.
“What’s that?” You asked, you hadn’t spoken since the bathroom.
“Someone is going to stay in here with you until things start becoming normal again,” Steve replied, pushing the wheelchair further into the room.
“Normal,” you scoffed.
“Buck and I were thinking we could have a movie night today. Maybe try and watch all of the—“
“I just want to sleep.”
“That’s okay too.”
“I would be here too kid,” Tony added, “but Pep and I are working out somethings with the physical therapist.”
“What’s the point of physical therapy? My legs don’t work.”
“It’s to keep your muscles, so that one day you can get braces.”
You nodded, glancing around until you were staring at your tennis shoes on the floor. They were brand new, Stark designed shoes. They were meant to not wear as fast because of your speeding abilities. Your speeding abilities that you could no longer access.
“Can you do something with those?” You asked, pointing at them.
Both Tony and Steve looked over. They got a tad deflated after remembering how excited you had been about those shoes.
“Yeah, sure, kid,” Tony responded, grabbing them. “I’ll just put them up in your closet. We can—“
“No,” you interrupted. “I want them gone.”
“Y/N—“
“I don’t need any reminders of what I’m now unable to do.”
“Sweetheart,” Tony got down in front of you, “you can still, or will be able to, do a lot. You got lucky.” He immediately regretted his last sentence, even Steve flinch.
“I got lucky? I. Got. Lucky?”
“Y/N, that’s not what—“
“Get the hell out!”
“Hey, that’s not how you talk to your—“
“My what? Father?! Cause you aren’t, remember? Maybe you should take Helen’s advice and give me away! Might make it easier on everyone!”
“You are my daughter, damn it! Whether it’s official or not, or by blood!”
“Y/N, Tony—“ Steve tried to interrupt.
“No! I actually will say that you got lucky. You did because you have people willing to help you, willing to support you.”
“Well stop!” You shouted back. “Have you ever thought that I don’t want any of your help?! Maybe I think that you should have just left me down there to die! It would have been better that way! I’m basically useless like this!”
“Enough!” Bucky yelled, barging in with Nat. “Steve, Tony, out.”
With a glare sent their way from Nat, the two men didn’t even argue. You were refusing to look at Bucky and Nat. Half embarrassed that you said those things to the men you considered your dads, and half embarrassed that you were believing the terrible thoughts your mind was taunting you with.
Bucky and Natasha looked at each other, unsure of what exactly to do. You let them help you into bed before they left you alone, leaving with a promise to bring food later.
In the loneliness of your bedroom, you let your thoughts consume you. How you were now useless as an Avenger without being able to have super speed. How you wished they would have just let you die. How you wish they wouldn’t be so helpful, it was driving you crazy. How you really didn’t have any family, you were all alone.
~~~
To respect your boundaries, Tony and Steve decided to let the others help them. No matter how hard it was. It hurt them to see you struggling through everything and not rush to your side. Not that you would let them help, you weren’t letting anyone without putting up a fight.
Steve and Tony had had many talks since they realized you were wishing that you had just died. Tony had made sure that FRIDAY had surveillance on you 24/7 and the Team, besides Tony and Steve, were switching sleeping in your room every night.
It wasn’t easy on anyone, especially since you were having nightmares about being stuck down in the debris. Someone would wake you from the dream, only to be quickly shut out. The terrors would leave you trembling, sweating, and in a state of panic. But, with you not willing to let people help, the others were forced to watch you struggle with this.
Physical and occupational therapy was a whole other issue. You were rude to the therapists and unwilling to do anything. As the weeks went by, the Team could see the affect it was happening on your legs and they were concerned. Steve and Tony would watch each session from above, angry at the whole situation.
It had been two months since the whole incident, and you still weren’t showing any signs of changing your attitude any time soon.
“Come on, Y/N,” your therapist sighed. “What I’m asking you to do isn’t all that hard. I’m going to do all the work.”
“No,” you stated, determined.
“Y/N—“
“Why don’t you go help someone who’s more able to do things? Maybe someone who will actually get better. I’m sure they’d love your help."
“I can’t watch this anymore,” Tony said to Steve, watching from above. “She’s hurting herself.”
“You know we can’t force her to do anything, Tony,” Steve replied. “We have to let her do this on her own.”
“No, we don’t.” Tony turned around and headed for the room you were currently in.
“Tony! What are you going to do?”
“Use the hate she is harboring towards what happened, towards us, for her benefit.”
Tony burst into the room, causing you and the therapist to jump. You furrowed your brows, confused at what Tony and Steve could possibly be doing here.
“Hand me your leg, Y/N,” Tony demanded.
“What? No,” you responded.
“Hand me your damn leg!”
“No!”
“Fine!” Tony marched over and picked you up from your wheelchair.
“Put me down!” You tried to push off Tony. “Let me go!”
“Tony!” Steve called. “What are you doing?”
“It’s time for some tough love,” Tony responded. He set you down, not gently, on a therapy table. He grabbed your leg and began doing the exercises.
“Let go of me!” You demanded, trying to reach and pry him away, but failing.
“No! Don’t you see what you are doing to yourself? What you’re doing to those around you?! You are miserable and you are making others miserable! Yes, what happened to you was absolute shit. Trust me, Steve and I will have that guilt with us for the rest of our lives. But it’s up to you to decide how to come out of this. You ever fight to live, fight to find the new normal, or you let yourself whither away. And I’m not about to let that last one happen.”
“You may think you’re alone in this, but you aren’t,” Tony continued. “Steve and I, the Team, we all want to help you through this. Even if that means sticking with you for life.”
During Tony’s whole thing, you had began crying. He was right, you were making yourself and everyone around you miserable.
“I’m sorry,” you cried out. “I’m so sorry… I just… I just wish…”
“I know, honey, I know,” Tony said, moving to pull you into his chest. You melted into him, crying. He placed a kiss on your head. “I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”
“Don’t leave me, Dad.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Steve came over and grabbed one of your hands, gently kissing it. You gave his hand a squeeze.
“I’m sorry, Pa,” you croaked.
“It’s okay,” Steve replied with a tiny smile. “No need to apologize. Just please don’t say that you would have rather died again. I don’t think I could take it if you did.”
“If I died or said it again?”
“Both.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“Will you guys… uh, will you guys help me with my exercises?”
“Of course, honey,” Tony replied. “But maybe Steve should do the other leg, because I think I wore myself out.”
Steve stood. “I’ll exercise that leg better than you could, Stark,” he commented.
“Oh, you’re on, Rogers.” Tony swiftly stood up.
“Great,” you muttered. “Now this is going to be a thing.”
~~~
Now that you were accepting help, things were beginning to look up again. Not that things weren’t hard, but they were better and you could handle it all better. The Team had decided to celebrate, but wouldn’t tell you how. Wheeling your wheelchair into the common area, you found it pitch black.
“FRIDAY,” you called out to the AI, “can I get some lights?”
“Of course,” the AI responded.
The lights came on and suddenly you were being pelted with water from squirt guns. The Team came out of their hiding spots, laughing, as they continued to fire at you.
“Guys!” You squealed, trying to shield yourself. “Guys! St-stop!”
“Never!” Sam exclaimed as he made his way closer to you.
“Here,” Peter said, lowering himself from the ceiling. “Take this.” He offered you a large gun. “Save yourself.”
You laughed as you began to fight back. Suddenly, you were pulled backwards by both Steve and Tony, who were trying to use you and the chair as protection.
“They’ve turned against us!” Tony exclaimed.
“Help us, Y/N!” Steve added.
You couldn’t stop laughing as you, Tony and Steve worked together to try and defeat the others. The Team couldn’t stop smiling as they watched you act so happy. It was so refreshing. After the common room was all but turned into a pool, the Team decided to change and then meet down in the movie room to relax for the night. When Y/N had arrived down there, Tony and Steve had saved a place between them.
“Can I help you onto the couch?” Steve asked.
You responded with a nod and let Steve pick you up, wrapping your arms around his neck. He carefully guided you through the maze of lodging teammates to the spot him and Tony had chosen on the couch.
“Thanks Pa,” you said as he set you down. You pulled your legs up close to you.
“Not a problem,” he smiled, sitting down beside you.
Tony spread a blanket over you guys. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Of course,” Tony responded, leaving a little kiss on your forehead.
You curled up against Tony as Steve moved your legs to rest over his lap, allowing him to massage them. FRIDAY quickly turned on your favorite movie. You glanced around, taking in everyone around you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Though your life was going to continue to have its challenges, you were glad you had found this family.
Part 2
#the avengers x reader#avengers x reader#tony stark x reader#steve rogers x reader#tony stark imagine#steve rogers x imagine#marvel x reader#the avengers x teen!reader#avengers x teen!reader#tony stark x teen!reader#steve rogers x teen!reader#marvel imagine#marvel imagines
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Can you do a michael x reader where they have a little girl together and she tells him she is sad and its cute and fluffy
STOP I LOVE ANY OF THE BOYS AS DADS
//
When the infernal copulating between a human and a ghost created Michael Langdon, Satan bestowed upon his son many powers that would help him on his plans to world domination. All of these powers, be it telekinesis or pyromancy, mind reading or the power of persuasion, had come in handy as Michael grew up and followed the path that had been decided for him since long before he was born. If you had to take a wild guess, though, you would assume that Satan had not foreseen Michael using his powers to keep an eye on his small daughter.
Michael can sense Aurora's turmoil before she's even rounded the corner to his office. His sweet girl, named after the dawn to remind her parents that there was always light after the darkness, her being that light for them. Even when he was traveling far and wide to take care of business in the Outposts, he could still mentally check in on his daughter randomly during the day. Being at home in the Sanctuary, that link is amplified by 1000. It also doesn't help that she's just as dramatic as her dad (your claim, not Michael's) and that she's a master-in-training at making her emotions known to everybody.
The door to Michael's study swings open, Michael staring expectantly until he sees his daughter's blonde curls peek up over the desk. She should be napping right now, even though she adamantly claims that four-year-olds do not need naps. Aurora's naps are the one time you'll leave your daughter with a babysitter without Michael's suggestion, using this free-time as an uninterrupted hour and a half to go and accomplish whatever you need to do. You had mentioned this morning that you were interested in checking on the progress with the re-colonization of the newly-restored Earth, which is probably where you are.
"Rory," Michael attempts to scold (impossible on a normal day, but especially when he slips up and uses her nickname while trying to be the tough parent), "why aren't you with Ms. Mead right now?"
Aurora huffs, eyes shining with tears as she comes around the desk and stands in front of Michael with her hands on her hips. You claim that she's the spitting image of Michael, but when she stares at him with that determined look in her eyes, all he sees is you. "She doesn't know I'm gone."
"And how did you sneak away?"
"I was real quiet," Aurora explains.
"Uh-huh." Michael raises an eyebrow, but she remains unflinching. "You're supposed to be taking a nap right now."
Her bottom lip quivers, and Michael crumbles. "'m sorry Daddy."
Michael takes his daughter's small hands in his, the comforting gesture causing her to fully burst into tears. "Lovebug, why are you sneaking around the halls?"
"I just miss you!"
"What do you mean?" Michael lifts her onto his lap. "I'm right here."
"You were gone for so long, an-and now you're here, but you're always busy."
Yep, Michael's heart is definitely broken now. "We talked every night while I was gone, though!" One of the perks of the Cooperative needing technology is being able to see his family even if he can't be with his family.
"But you weren't here!" Aurora wails, throwing her head into his shoulder and sobbing more.
"Oh, please don't cry."
Michael wraps his arms around her in a tight hug, shushing and soothing her until her cries turn to whimpers. After a few minutes, Aurora finally brings her tearstained face up from his suit jacket, Michael using his thumb to wipe her tears.
"I'm sorry that I haven't been here for you." Michael can admit that he's definitely been busy lately, but he hadn't realized that it was affecting his daughter so much. He's been trying to spend extra time with her before she goes to bed, but that's not enough to keep her from missing him.
"Mama misses you too," Aurora says sleepily, one hand hanging by her side and the other lazily holding onto Michael's shirt. That settles it, Michael thinks as he secures his arms around Aurora and stands with her, walking to the little girl's bedroom. Unsurprisingly, you're already sitting in the rocking chair, waiting for your two favorite people to return.
"Ms. Mead was worried, so she came to find me," you explain.
"Sorry for running, mama," Aurora mumbles, blearily staring at you as Michael lays her on her bed.
"It's okay, baby. I know you just wanted to go see daddy."
Michael awkwardly sits on his cloak, sitting next to Aurora and holding onto her hand until her breathing evens out. Even when it does, he doesn't let go of her.
"I've fucked up, and I'm sorry," Michael begins.
"My love, please don't apologize. You're busy trying to rebuild the world," you say.
"But she doesn't understand that. She just knows that she wants me to be more present, but I'm not."
"She's four. Four-year-olds have big emotions, okay? It's all or nothing with them."
"I had a home built for us on the beach," Michael blurts suddenly.
You look up at him, startled. "You what?"
"I wanted to wait until the perfect moment, but there's really no better time than this. We'll still have our forever home, wherever we decide to make it, but this can be our own little paradise, our own Eden."
Michael puts an image in your head of the house and the location, and you gasp. "It's--"
"The beach where we had our first kiss. The beach that we got married on."
During Michael's Hawthorne days, which felt like a different lifetime now, you and he often snuck out to meet each other on a beach on the coast of Malibu. In hindsight, it's hilarious that you both danced around your feelings for so long when those were the lengths you went to to see each other when you were "just friends."
"Let's go away for a few days, just the three of us."
"But what about your work, the Cooperative?" You try to sound concerned for him, but you can't hide just how excited you are by this surprise.
"That can wait. Nothing is more important than my favorite girls." You surge towards Michael's lips, tenderly kissing him in thanks.
"I love you."
"I love you too, and I'm sorry for not being there for you or Aurora."
"I mean, just you taking a couple of days off will make it up to Aurora," you laugh.
"Daddy's not gonna work?" Aurora must have been woken up when Michael slipped his hand from hers, having caught the tail end of the conversation.
"Nope, I'm all yours."
All of Michael's doubts and worries, his fears and anger, none of it matters when he sees how brightly his baby smiles at him.
#michael langdon#michael langdon imagine#michael langdon imagines#michael langdon x reader#ahs#ahs imagines#ahs apocalypse imagine#ahs imagine
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Werewolf!Yunho meeting his mate
Type: Werewolf au, angst, fluff
Pairing: Werewolf!Yunho x HumanFemale!reader
Word count: 2,994
A/n: I know this took a long time, trust me, it felt like a long time for me too. With how I view Yunho, I expected this to be happier than it is. I was having a hard time while writing this, and it reflected on the story. Anyways please enjoy and stay safe!
TW: toxic relationship, financial struggle, deadlines, stressed reader, emotional and verbal pain, toxic masculinity, if I missed anything please tell me.
You sat at the foot of your bed, still not made, staring at the mirror resting against your dull colored wall with lifeless blank eyes. Your posture slouched as you finished tying the laces of your running shoes huffing and letting your arms flop to the ground. Looking at the mirror, you tried smiling, but it was meak and disappeared as soon as it appeared.
You hadn’t smiled a real smile in so long, you forgot what it felt like. To smile. To be happy. The forgotten emotion was one you took for granted when it was easy to to bask in the warmth of it. Now it's just cold. Cold and empty.
You looked away from the mirror with a tight feeling coiling in the base of your chest not being able to bear looking at the stranger staring back at you any longer. Your gaze fell to the laptop, abandoned, due to frustration on your desk in the forgotten corner of the room. The thought of unfinished drafts and incomplete sentences shook violently in your mind. Disappointment in yourself pooling in your gut remembering your editor’s words.
“If you can’t give us at least a first draft by the end of the month, we’ll have to unfortunately let you and your novel go.”
How pathetic was it that you couldn’t even come up with a simple sentence. A description, dialogue, a metaphor. Nothing. Anytime you sat yourself in front of the desk, your mind went blank. The cursor blinking at the top of the page mocked you with the possibility of millions of words. Not one ever made its way onto the page.
The end of the month was in two weeks.
You felt tears of hopelessness stinging the corner of your eyes, and you abruptly stood up grabbing your wireless earbuds, phone, and bag. Making your way into the kitchen you grabbed the water in the fridge and placed it inside your back, nothing but a numb feeling alienating you from reality and its broken expectations. You heard the front door of your little apartment open and slam close shaking the thin walls of the building.
Your heart lurched as you winced immediately feeling like you were walking on eggshells. You were usually quick enough to leave before he got home from work, but you had been a tad bit late this one time. You gripped the strap of your bag tightly hoping for it to ground you through whatever vile words came from the one person you should have been able to trust with your ugliest feelings.
Trying to walk past your boyfriend, eyes trained on the chipped wood of the front door did no good when he kissed his teeth and huffed as soon as he caught sight of you.
“You’re never home when I get home from work, and the one time you are here, you run away not even saying hi to me? Not even a “hey honey how was work today” or maybe a “hi love what would you like for dinner?” and never a “you’ve worked hard would you like a massage?” It's the same shit every day. You treat me like nothing when I'm the reason you even have a roof over your head woman.”
You kept your mouth the whole time he rambled on trying to ignore the clear stench of beer being able to reach you even with all the distance separating you, and the feeling of disgust mixed with desperation pooling at the bottom of your gut at yourself for not speaking up for yourself. Opening your mouth instead of letting your voice be taken from you. A long time ago, you would always say you would rather die than be without your voice. In a sense, you had died a long time ago.
Around three months after you had started dating. That had been two years ago.
Your English degree really did you no good. Not having enough time to be an intern in college really screwed you over when no job would take a bright eyed girl with the same passion in her heart for writing as a Karen’s passion for business that wasn’t hers, but with no experience. Even if the apartment was under your name, you’d probably be kicked out in weeks time.
You hated all of it. Everything that made up both the small and big parts of your life, you hated it. You hated his greasy hair and beady eyes, the nasty rough stubble covering the lower part of his face as a result of his laziness. You hated the hesitation in leaving him because of the fear of the stack of bills piling up next to the fridge. You hated the editors who couldn’t find it in some part of their greedy selves to extend your deadline. You hated the empty drafts sitting in your laptop collecting what could only be dead dreams and despair. You hated the cold emptiness that was always present in the confines of your chest.
You recoiled at the way he said “woman” the same way someone would talk about a bug. Small and insignificant. Patronizing and confident in the worst way. You set your mouth in a tight line not even being able to look at him. Shifting your feet, you crossed your arms and looked up to the sky as if calling out to some unknown being to get you out of this pathetic corner you were trapped in. You cursed under your breath looking at the dying flowers on the coffee table with distaste as they wilted towards you mocking you.
“What was that?” His voice got rougher with the menacing edge of fanned masculinity and control. Something that could put you in a dangerous place in a very fast amount of time. You looked at him with dull eyes poking your cheek with your tongue as a cold feeling settled in your gut.
Your hands fell limply to your side and you chuckled humorlessly.
“Fuck you”.
Those two words were enough to set him off as you slowly blinked and looked at the ground feeling your heart falter when he abruptly got up. You tried to stand your ground, but the surge of confidence was quickly withering away with fear taking its place.
Ethan was bigger than you. Even if he wasn’t that much taller than you, there was a noticeable difference in his frame and yours. Weirdly enough, you didn’t regret your curse at him. The words still burned brilliantly on the tip of your tongue.
It was bittersweet of course. His nose flared, and his eyes bulged as he took large strides over to you knocking the coffee table over on his path to you.
“What did you say to me you-” his words were said through gritted teeth, brash and loud in the silent apartment.
Maybe he was bigger and stronger than you, but you were faster.
You inhaled sharply reacting fast as your hand reached behind you, turning the knob and slipping around it slamming the door close. Your bag bumped against your back while you bolted to the door with the word “stairs” painted in big bold letters across it. You were already at the door when you heard your apartment door open and Ethan angrily called your name. Threatening to break your laptop if you didn’t go back right this instant.
You couldn’t help but snicker at the weak attempt. It’s not like there were much but empty pages anyways.
A heavy feeling soon settled on your chest as you went down the stairs. Your apartment was on the 4th floor, and the stairs weren’t the most taken care of, but it’s not like you had much of a choice anyways. It seemed these days you were always wanting to run away from something.
Your heart felt a little lighter when the warm rays of sun met your skin and the fresh air outside flooded your senses. Your walk to the park went as usual. Cars racing to get where they needed to, people chattered about everything and nothing, and your thoughts wandered to a world far away from this one.
A world that wasn’t as dark as this one. At the same time your mind became your executioner, it became your safe place. The sick contrast making a nasty feeling flood your chest.
You arrived at the park with a small smile. The normalcy of the day bringing a little comfort to your still racing heart. Kids ran around, laughter ringing in the air around them as their parents watched on benches gossiping among themselves. People raced fast either by foot, bicycle, or skateboard, a visible sheen on their necks. You looked for the kind old man who always looked after your bag while you ran.
He owned a music store a few blocks away, and he always sat on the bench closest to the pond with his cute corgi and habitually feeding the ducks peas and lettuce leaves when finished with a certain chapter of his book. You walked up to him with a small smile as he looked up and took the sight of you in with fatherly worry.
“You look a little pale kid, everything alright?”
You did your best to liven up and gave your best customer service smile which the older man immediately saw through.
“Of course Mr.Jung. Why wouldn’t it be? I’m just a little tired from the editors. They’re on my back more than usual”, you laughed nervously as he hummed in understanding.
“I hope that boy of yours isn’t giving you any problems. Hey kid, have you ever heard of the term “break up?” he looked so serious you had to compose your shocked face.
You waved your hands rapidly “I promise Mr.Jung everything is fine there is...I...oh my” you took a shaky breath as he simply shrugged his shoulders and pet his smaller companion who was having a very serious stare down with a duck.
You wiped your sweaty palms on your yoga pants while you looked around at the tacky named paths trying to decide which one to run today.
“The Pupper Runner path looks particularly nice today,” he suggested. You looked at the path pursing your lips in thought. The path wasn’t one you ran frequently. Since it was one of the wider and flatter paths, there were more people such as families or people walking their dogs. You also didn’t like having run-ins with the cyclists who were grouchier around this time of day for some odd reason.
After contemplating it, you shrugged and decided why not. Getting run over by a ticking time bomb on wheels wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen today. With a small smile sent in Mr.Jungs way, you checked your shoe laces before starting out with a light jog making your way down the specific path.
There was nothing really different about today’s run than others. Just having to dodge the wheel demons and kids happily running ahead of their worried mothers. You were grateful for the distraction. It kept you from straying too far into your head. It was just you running. Running like you always did these days, your shoes slapping on the concrete path and Got7 blaring in your ears.
The heat of the sun shone on your skin, but oddly you still felt cold. It was always cold these days. A light breeze fresh to your burning skin as desperate eyes caught yours, and you were once again bought out of your stupor.
A small boy was kneeled down fingers clutching his untied shoelaces not far from his dad who was trying to calm a crying baby. You didn’t really have a strong adoration for kids, but his panicked pinched face compelled you to come to a slow stop in front of him. Your chest heaved as you bent down to his level sitting on your heels and wrapped your arms around your legs.
“Hey bud, you need some help there?”
The kid made a distraught sound as he nodded his face shaking his hair out of his eyes. He looked dumb founded as he stared at his shoe laces in search of answers they would never give.
“Mama said to make a bunny, but this looks more like my aunt Carol’s dog” he sadly told you.
You snorted reaching out gently to tie his laces with a double knot.
With a grin you looked up at him ruffling his hair and giving him a thumbs up which he happily returned with a toothy smile.
“It’s alright kid, you’ll eventually get it. Just keep trying yeah? Don’t settle or you might catch yourself tripping next time you go on a walk. You’ll get hurt. Wouldn’t want that would we”, you said, lips still stretched kindly upwards, but something in your words struck stingingly deep in your chest.
As the kid nodded happily with a carefree laugh you were about to get up when you heard the air being split and a strained voice yelling “watch out!!”.
You looked up, panicked, only to see a frisbee racing right in your direction with alarming speed. With the goal of protecting the small child, you quickly turned your body. Your shoes making a rough sound against the concrete as a startled light cry left the younger boy’s mouth.
With your hands ready, you easily caught the frisbee gasping at the shock of the situation. You quickly shook it off as you gripped the frisbee turning back to the child who profusely thanked you, his small hands shaking as they clutched onto the hem of your shirt.
You simply smiled reassuringly tapping his shoe and ushering him back to his father who has begun to successfully calm the fussing baby down.
With shaking knees you tried to get up only to wince and slightly waver at the sharp sting that hit your ankle area. You clenched your jaw feeling more than annoyed at the current situation in hand.
You stood up grumbling under your breath as a tall figure jogged over to you. While he made his way toward you, your narrowed eyes met his wide, apologetic ones.
You felt the world shift around you as a calming warmth shot through your body melding with the confusion and panic pooling in your gut, and his eyes widened impossibly as he stumbled managing to stabilize himself right in time in front of you. His figure standing just inches away from you as his hands trembled, and his lips slightly parted.
You got a slight whiff of cologne and mint, but more than anything, the weird feeling in your gut was making a way for the dreadful panic clouding around your heart.
You felt warm.
After feelings of feeling nothing but the hollow cold licking at your veins, there was a nice warmth settling in your chest.
You were scared of it.
With a heavy chest you slightly inched back left somewhat immobile due to the aching pain in your ankle. “What the hell?”, you immediately set off on questioning him leading him to shake his head frantically at you.
“I’m so sorry, i really am.” He put his hand on his chest as if trying to prove his sincerity to you, but you breathlessly took a step back stunned by the intense feelings taking over your heart and mind.
You tried shaking it off, but the warmth lingered.
You weren’t sure you wanted it to go away.
“There’s kids here”, you were so distracted by all the emotions circling your mind you couldn’t possibly put any effort into arguing with the young man. His lips parted to make way for his lips as he nodded his head in understanding. “I know, I'll be more careful next time. I promise.”
Somehow, you knew he was being truthful. You went to say something, possibly something dangerous, but you shook your head and waved your hand.
You tried taking a step but lightly hissed at the sharp pain that shot from your ankle up your leg. The man instantly dove forward steadying you with a heavy hand between your shoulder blades, and the other hovering in worry near your collarbone.
With wide eyes you looked at him as he realized his un-asked for touch and immediately went to back away.
He couldn’t.
Your hand was clutching the cloth of his shirt near his shoulder blades. Hands slowly uncurling, you smiled awkwardly, but he kept his hand where it was. At his touch, the warmth licking the insides of your body became all the more distracting.
“Um, I don’t think you can go all the way back home like this”, he cleared his throat looking at you shily under his bangs. Flustered, you smiled at the ground before looking back up and timidly asking “I can't. Mind helping me out?”.
At your question he let out a beaming grin nodding eagerly. He went to stand in front of you, and he crouched down looking at you over his shoulder with soft brown eyes. You did a small jump, and were caught by his hands slightly gripping under your thighs.
He gave a low chuckle that somehow was felt from where your chest was pressed up against his shoulder blades. “So...what’s your name?”. You let a light giggle escape, “Y/n, yours?”. You saw his jaw move with the syllables of your name whispering it to himself.
“Yunho”, you smiled also sounding out the name on your own mouth. You gave a shuddering exhale, and you laid your head on his shoulder letting yourself really rest for what seemed like the first time in forever.
That night you walked right past Ethan who was quick to begin yelling at you, and you tucked yourself under the safety of your blankets feeling the warmth still encasing your heart, so comforting and alive.
#ateez reaction#ateez reactions#ateez x reader#ateez au#ateez fanfic#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#werewolf ateez#werewolf!ateez#ateez werewolf au#yunho x reader#yunho x you#yunho imagines#yunho scenarios#yunho fanfic#yunho au#yunho fluff#yunho angst#jung yunho x reader#jung yunho au#jung yunho imagine#werewolf!yunho#yunho werewolf#yunho werewolf au#yunho oneshot
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𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 (𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈) 𝑹𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅
Part Two
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐆𝐨𝐭𝐡/𝐄𝐦𝐨! 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 (𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳)/ 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞)
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐀𝐔
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥/𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞/𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞/𝐝*𝐜𝐤 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 (𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐣𝐨𝐛 (𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐩*𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧).
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐅𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐘/𝐍 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟓𝐊+
𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @hanatiny @vocalyunho @galaxteez (payback you little bitch)
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Awoken from her daydream, Y/N grumbled when her best friend shoved his notebook in her face.
"Earth to Y/N!" He shouted as he ruffled her hair with the object in his hand.
"Mingi! What the hell?" She complained as she pushed the notebook away.
"I've been trying to get your attention for the past 3 minutes. Are you even listening to me?" He questioned her.
"I am!" She interjected.
Giving her a quizzical look, he crossed his arms.
"Really? Then can you tell me what the answer is?"
Ripping the notebook from his hands, she looked over the equation that filling half the page, squinting at it every now and then before ultimately admitting defeat as she slowly handed it back to the genius sitting next to her on the bench.
Rolling his eyes, Mingi let out a small sigh as he began packing up his belongings, deeming it useless to continue his semi-tutoring session.
"Don't give me that look Min, not everyone is a cute nerd like you that can solve an advanced calculus problem in mere seconds."
"Ok! Although that may be true.." He held up a finger as he paused to fully zip up his bag.
"You're pretty smart too Y/N."
She gave him a small thankful smile at his comment.
"You're problem isn't that you're dumb. Your problem is currently standing right over there."
She hesitantly tilted her head to where his head gestured at, knowing fully well what she'd see. But as soon as she caught a glimpse of the black combat boots, her eyes stayed fixated on the figure reclining against the lamppost. Her eyes trailed up his ripped black skinny jeans, up his torso which was covered by a striped black and dark red turtleneck, its sleeves peeking out of the black studded leather jacket layered on top, until they landed on his nonchalant gaze. His eyes were looking down at his phone, the input connected to the headphones that were currently resting on top of his dark ash grey head. That was how one would mostly find Kim Hongjoong: lost in his own little world, blocking out the rest of his environment with a click of his music playlist, no doubt filled with bands like Linkin Park, Breaking Benjamin and MCR. Y/N wasn't going to lie, more than once she often thought about playing a G note near him just to see if he'd react or not. Thinking about him actually reacting to anything made her giggle on the inside.
"And there you go again!" Mingi's voice yelled in her ear.
She was so startled by his piercing scream, she actually fell over and hit the pavement kinda hard. She winced as she felt a pain on her derriere.
"Ow. Ow. Ow." She groaned as she began lifting herself up.
Out of nowhere, a pair of arms scooped her up and helped her stand upright.
"You all right?" The person asked.
"I think so. Thank you for-"
Her words got caught on her throat as a pair of dark brown eyes looked at her, black eyeliner smoked out to accentuate the shape of his eyes and make them look more intense than they already were.
He smirked at her before looking over at Mingi and nodding at him.
"Yunho sent you the invite right?"
Although he was quite familiar and somewhat friendly with Hongjoong, Mingi still had a hard time talking to him, so he merely tilted his head down in a half nod.
"So you're coming or are you going to stay home again and study for any surprise quiz Professor Nam might try to give us?"
Mingi poked his bottom lip out, somewhat offended at being called out like that. The dark male let out a soft snort.
"Seriously Mingi, going out once in a while won't hurt you. You don't even have to get fucked up if you don't want. Just come hang out."
Turning his attention back at the girl silently admiring him, he flashed her a wink.
"Bring a friend if you want too."
Bringing the headphones up to cover his overly pierced ears, he shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away in that usual way of his that made several people think he was on his way to commit a felony or crime.
Y/N watched him leave until he was completely out of sight, and even then, she still stayed staring at the corner he turned. Leaning in, Mingi stared at her with widened eyes.
"Your middle school phase of liking Andy Biersack copycats is really showing Y/N."
She scoffed and pushed his face away from hers.
"Shut up, you act like you didn't have your own infatuation with Hayley Williams."
Mingi stiffened, his ears turning slightly red at the memories.
"I got over it didn't I?"
"I don't know? Did you?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him teasingly.
"Some friend you are. And here I was actually thinking of taking you with me to the weekend bash Yunho and his friends invited me to."
Y/N looked at him in disbelief.
"First off, why would they even invite you? You're not even a part of their clique. Second, even if they had invited you, you wouldn't go. You're too uptight." She accused him.
Squinting his eyes at her, Mingi cleared his throat.
"For your information, I got paired up with Yunho, Hongjoong and Jongho once for a group project and we actually keep in touch since then."
Y/N dropped her hands to the side, a loud slapping noise made against her thighs.
"When was this?"
"Around the time you went to that trip with your parents back home." He answered.
Her mouth dropped open.
"And you never told me this because.....?"
Mingi rolled his eyes.
"Because you would have teased me or would have said something about a nerd, a jock, a teacher's pet and an emo goth, whatever hell spawn demon he is, in a room together and actually getting along."
"I mean, I get them getting along, not so sure about a boring old prick like you though." She stuck her tongue out at him.
Mingi held his fingers up, threatening to flick her forehead if she continued, but Y/N flinched away.
"You ass. And here I was actually thinking of going and taking you so you can hit on your dream boy." He expressed as he began his walk back home, already deeming it late to stay behind on campus grounds.
Following suit and placing herself on his left, Y/N uttered out.
"He's not my dream boy..."
"Really? Then why do you keep drooling over him and looking at him with googly eyes about to pop out of their sockets?" He inquired.
"He's just.....he's just a complex character. Full of mystery and shrouded in this dark aura that I want to get past and see what's behind it...."
She hesitated even though she was supposed to be answering a question. She felt kinda stupid for thinking like that, making Hongjoong seem like some type of enigma when in reality, he could just be a normal person like all the other people that walked past her on the streets. Her friend didn't judge her though, owing some of her curiosity to her psychology major and passion. Slumping an arm around her, he playfully nuzzled his nose against her cheek, making her emit a half-whine half snort hybrid sound at his antics, trying to release herself from his grasp.
"You're so cute. Now come on. I have to take you shopping."
Not even bothering to ask if she had plans or needed to be somewhere else, Mingi linked hands with her and pulled her with him as he speedily walked in the direction of the nearest mall available.
"Explain to me why that is necessary Einstein? You always hated going shopping with me." She nearly tripped trying to keep up with his long strides.
"Because if you want to win emo boy's heart, you at least gotta start looking like his type." He called back at her.
"And what exactly would his type be?"
"Just trust me and leave it all to me."
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Y/N wasn't sure about trusting Mingi anymore as they made their way through a dense, misty and dark forest, the only illumination available being the moonlight that casted a blue tinted beam at their surroundings. Her head whipped with every strange noise that came from bushes or behind a tree. It was kinda chilly and the light breeze that whooshed past them had her legs shivering, making her regret wearing the distressed black shorts and fishnet tights under an oversized Scorpions tshirt that covered most of the shorts, making it look like a no pants look.
"Mingi? Are you sure about this?" She was only thankful of her purchase of some Dr. Martens 1460 black boots which helped her not fall or trip easily on the dirt road.
Mingi, who was an even more scared baby than she was, was fumbled with the sleeves of his pullover hoodie.
"Yeah, Yunho sent me directions and it should be around here somewhere..." He tussled his hair back, trying to hear or distinguish any sound.
"Are you sure he didn't send you to his murder site?" She asked, looking around for any suspicious thing.
Right at that moment, a figure jumped out in front of them, causing both of them to start screaming in terror. Mingi in particular, pushed Y/N to the side and began running in the opposite direction.
"Well dang, he didn't even let me yell boo or something."
Y/N recognized the buff male in front of her as Choi Jongho, the running back of the football team. Giving her an apologetic look, he helped her up after Mingi accidentally pushed her onto the dirt. As she dusted the dirt off, Jongho looked at her band tee.
"Scorpions?" He pointed at it.
He uttered a small 'cool' before signaling her to follow him. Turns out, they were actually not far off from the location, which was actually an old abandoned 2 story summer house that resembled more a barn to her than an actual living space. Cars were all parked out around the area and music was blasting from speakers connected to who knows where. People who hung outside were either vaping their Juuls and chugging back bottles of Smirnoff or Mike's Hard beers, some already halfway to being wasted while others simply held it in their hands, hardly taking a sip as they scanned around trying to find someone to go back home with.
"Don't worry about Mingi. I'll go get him......eventually."
Hearing him snicker, Y/N was actually more worried about herself than Mingi. She only agreed to come because, as surprising as it was, he encouraged her to and knowing he'd be there by her side, being the only person she could stick to cause she did not know anyone else, gave her a little bit of courage. But not anymore after he just totally ditched her and left her alone in God knows where.
Seeing her shift around uncomfortably as they passed through a crowd of wild jumping people, Jongho laced his fingers in hers and brought her over to a more quiet side of the place, where 3 other people were standing around, chatting amongst themselves. Once the two huddled up close to each other saw Jongho and a mystery girl they'd never seen before, they began nudging and whispering among themselves, one of them chuckling under his breath. Hongjoong could already guess what his friend's conversations was about, but he simply rolled his eyes at their behavior and lustful gazes.
Until he turned his head and saw who it was next to Jongho. Then took out the red vape in from his lips and made it a point to exhale the fumes onto the younger member's faces.
"Yah! Hyung! What the hell?" His friend with cat like eyes remarked as he coughed and fanned away the cancerous smoke.
"Just cause you don't care about contracting lung's disease at an early age, doesn't mean San or I want any part of it." The other said.
"Wow. I'm impressed you actually know what contracting means Wooyoung." He smiled amusingly at his younger friend, who was not very pleased with his little joke.
"Hey guys! While trying to retrieve Mingi, I made a new friend." Jongho greeted them like a happy bunny as he held up his hand which was still holding Y/N's.
Hongjoong's eyes narrowed down at where they connected, an eyebrow raised at their physical contact as the hand that held his vape pen began fidgeting it rapidly between his fingers. Jongho of course was oblivious to the anger burning through Hongjoong's stare while Wooyoung and San caught on pretty quick and began debating whether to laugh or step in before bottles were thrown.
"Ok, so where is Mingi now?" San asked him.
"He ran off." Jongho shrugged.
Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Wooyoung pushed himself in between them both, effectively separating them as he pulled Jongho away.
"Great! Now we gotta go find him before he gets lost."
Looking back at Y/N, he waved.
"Hi! I'm Wooyoung, I'm bi and goodbye! You seem nice. Hopefully there's a next time."
Y/N blinked at the flamboyant boy's introduction and exit, wondering if it was planned or-
"No he didn't actually mean to rhyme. He's cute but too dumb to make up a poem on the spot." San answered the question on her mind.
Looking back at Hongjoong, he smiled mischievously.
"Hongjoong definitely can. He's into dark poetry and that Edward Pie guy. Have him recite something to you."
Hongjoong fumed at San who merely patted his shoulder and placed his cup in Hongjoong's hand before sauntering off with the other two.
"Edgar Allen Poe you fucking moron!" Hongjoong yelled as he lifted the cup up, tempted to throw it at him.
Y/N held her hand to her lips for a brief instant, trying to suppress the smile threatening to form across her lips. Hongjoong sighed as he stared down at the contents in the cup, swirling it around casually before holding it out to Y/N.
"Want some?" He offered.
"Umm....sure?"
She didn't even know why she accepted it. She'd never drank before in her life and for all she knew, it could have been laced with something. But not wanting to look like a little priss, she took a deep breath before trying to gulp down whatever alcohol was inside. It burned down her throat and she spat some of it back in the cup, unable to hide the cringing expression at the strong liquor.
"What. Is. That?" She questioned as she wiped the liquid that was on her chin and lips.
Hongjoong snorted as he responded that it was straight vodka, making Y/N feel embarrassed to have let him see such a spectacle from her.
"You're not much of a drinker are you? Or hardly one right?"
Her sheepish look was a dead giveaway which had Hongjoong laughing slightly, his lips parting slightly. Y/N was not only surprised to hear him laugh for the first time, but was intrigued when she saw something metallic on his tongue, making her wonder if he was chewing on something. Noticing her curious gaze, Hongjoong's lip curled up at one corner.
"Oh. That's just a piercing."
He had no qualms and simply stuck his tongue out to let her see the silver bar that was plunged through his tongue, each end having a round ball.
"Wow.....that's impressive." She couldn't deny it was extremely attractive.
Hongjoong himself was just attractive in general. Standing there wearing his usual leather jacket, a black tshirt with red letters, and a red turtleneck peeking out from the top, covering his neck. His usual preference for ripped black jeans was not missing, only this time, he added a little flare by having a piece of red plaid fabric chained around his waist, making it look like a half-skirt look. It seriously made him more hotter than he already was.
"Yeah I know. It's even more impressive when I put it to work."
Pushing himself off the wall he was leaning against, he stepped closer to Y/N, one arm propping against the wall in front of her as he looked at her with hunger and desire in his eyes, those eyes that were once again covered with smoked out eyeliner, only this time he added a hint of red that really made them stand out more and seemed to lure you in and see deep in his soul.
"Wanna experience it first hand?"
She was so lost in his eyes, she almost didn't hear him, until she realized what he meant.
"Here?" She mouthed and gestured around them.
Hongjoong threw his head back and laughed.
"Obviously not here. I'm not like those people outside who are probably already getting to 2nd base in front of everyone."
"Oh....." Now she really felt her cheeks flush red.
Hongjoong patiently tapped his black colored fingernails on the concrete wall, waiting for her answer. She seemed to be debating withing herself so much, until her eyes fell on the patch of skin that was showing when his jacket sleeve rose up, letting her catch a glimpse of black ink that probably went up his arm.
"Listen, if you don't want to that's fine. I know when no means no-" He began to assure her.
"Ok." She quickly responded, interrupting his speech.
"Wait- you're serious?" He slumped his arm off the wall, quite shocked she'd agree.
She nodded. "Yeah."
When it was now Hongjoong who was standing quiet, Y/N giggled and leaned in.
"I mean...if you don't want to-"
She had no time to finish the sentence and his hands gripped her waist and pressed her against him, his breath fanning over hers, the strawberry scent of the vape pen still lingering in his mouth.
"Trust me, I've wanted to for a long time."
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As soon as the door to Hongjoong's room in the dorm clicked shut, the tension in the room seemed to thicken. Y/N gulped slightly as she realized this is really happening. Not that she didn't want it to, but to actually have Hongjoong standing in front of her, his eyes already undressing and fucking her, while his bottom lip was caught in his front teeth, was definitely not a reality her brain was fully convincing. It wasn't until Hongjoong's thumb grazed her bottom lip, making her exhale a tiny gasp, that it fully dawned on her what was going to happen.
"Don't worry babydoll. I promise you'll get breathless after I'm done with you."
Wrapping his hand on the back of her neck to tilt it slightly upwards, his lips came down and covered her own, pressing against them before slightly parting and covering them once more. He started out slow before turning it more intense, nipping down roughly at her top lip in an effort to get her to open her mouth for him. When she did, his hands cupped the sides of her jaw, thumbs pressed against her cheeks to keep her face from moving as his tongue poked out and slipped inside her mouth. A muffled moan protruded from her throat when Hongjoong rolled his tongue over hers, his tongue piercing grazing the roof of her mouth. He then began swirling his wet muscle around her own, letting her feel the cold metallic jewelry that was sending shocks down her body. When his hands released their hold on her face, they only did so to glide down her torso before snaking down underneath her shirt to cup the back of her shorts, his fingers digging into her ass cheeks, nails lightly raking across the exposed skin under the ripped hem.
Feeling like things weren't going fast enough for how needy she was growing, Y/N ran her hands across Hongjoong's chest, going up to his shoulders and sliding his leather jacket off them. Getting the hint, Hongjoong let it fall to the floor and soon his graphic tshirt followed suit, leaving him in his tight fitted red turtleneck that practically clung to his skin, his pectoral muscles that were well above average for someone his size perfectly outlined. As eye catching as it was, that wasn't what caught her attention. What kept her eyes trained on his chest was some weird thing poking out suspiciously.
He chuckled as he knew what she was curious about.
"Oh. That my dear doll, are another pair of piercings I got."
Y/N nearly drooled as he lifted his shirt off, not only revealing the hidden 11 abs he owned, but the arm sleeve tattoo that went from his wrist to a little bit above his right upper arm. On his left side, there was no tattoo on his arm, but instead on his ribcage. But the thing that made her squeeze her thighs together were the black colored metal pieces that were lined across his nipples. Unable to help herself, her hands reached out to touch them, but Hongjoong quickly stopped her.
"Ok doll, before you get ahead of yourself, at least one article of clothing has to come off your body." He smiled cheekily at her.
No hesitation, Y/N soon discarded her own shirt, tossing it somewhere on the room, leaving her torso covered with only her black lace bra that didn't exactly cover much.
"Fuck babygirl, where you hiding that all this- Oh, oh my!"
Hongjoong nearly fell back on his bed when Y/N pressed her face against his chest, her tongue darting out to lick around his pierced nipples. He swallowed as he collected himself, trying not to get too turned on as her tongue played around with the piercings, sometimes nipping at them. Hongjoong arched his back slightly, letting her take as much of him in her mouth as she pleased. The nipple that wasn't being made out with her mouth, was being pleasured by her hand, pinching and gently tugging at it.
"You can go as hard as you want."
Giggling darkly, he took her free hand and placed it on the erection poking out in his pants.
"I'll have you know I enjoy a little pain."
Making her squeeze down on it, Y/N could feel something odd, which prompted her to poke and grope him more fiercely. Wanting to satisfy her curiosity, Hongjoong unzipped his pants and pulled them down mid thigh to let her admire the last set of piercings he owned:
A Jacob's ladder running up the base of his dick and an ampallang pierced through the head.
"Holy shit...." Whether she said it out loud or not, Y/N didn't care. It was the most erotic image she had ever seen and she could not believe that in mere minutes, it would be inside her, no doubt destroying and tearing her walls apart.
Leaning in, Hongjoong sloppily kissed and sucked her jaw and down her upper neck.
"You're free to play with it as you wish doll. I got them for more than one reason. And that's one of them."
Not needing to be told twice, her hand wrapped around the base of his erect cock, her thumb running across his slit. Hongjoong hissed slightly when her hand began pumping him slowly, purposefully applying pressure to the silver metal adorning his length. Taking advantage of the his hazy state, Y/N returned to her previous task of playing with his nipple piercings. Hongjoong threw his head back at immense pleasure he was feeling, loving when Y/N would squeeze him a little to harsh or bite roughly at his nipples. He felt more intoxicated and high being painfully pleasured by her hand and mouth than with any THC chemical he'd ever introduce inside his system.
Without realizing it, he instinctively began bucking his hips up, wanting to chase the release that was building up inside him. Knowing what he wanted, Y/N lifted her head up and sucked on his neck, speeding up her hand movements.
"You gonna cum for me Joongie? Gonna cum all over my hand? Make a mess and soak my fingers with your dirty cum?" She taunted at him.
Unable to hold back especially after her dirty teasing, with a mutter of curses, he spilled himself all over her hand, some of it splattering onto her fishnets. Once he regained his senses, he looked down to find her looking at him with a shit eating grin.
"Heh......don't think you're in charge here doll. This is still my territory."
Swooping her up, she let out a little yelp when he tossed her onto his bed, immediately crawling in between her legs. After getting rid of his pants and briefs, his hands gripped on her belt loops to pull her shorts down. His eyes scanned her body, trying to decide on something. He hummed softly as his hand pressed down onto her clothed heat.
"I'm not going deny it, those fishnets do look remarkably sexy on you....."
With mock pity, he sighed. "Oh well."
Y/N gasped in horror as he tore a hole right in the crotch area, leaving the rest untouched. Opening his desk drawer, she widened her eyes when he took out a pocket knife and flashed it across her face.
"Relax doll. I like pain, but knife play isn't really my thing. On me or my partner."
After ordering her to stay still, she watched as he carefully cut on the sides of her lace panties, just enough to carefully slip them off her body without having to take off her tights. Although in any other situation she would have instantly closed her legs, she didn't feel like doing it this time. It turned her on and made her feel sexier to instead pry her legs open, letting Hongjoong peer down at her glistening folds that he caused, her hands running themselves down her chest as she bit down at her lip.
"Fuck! You're practically drenched already Y/N." Hongjoong cocked an eyebrow at her.
She only giggled before reaching behind her to unclasp her bra, slowly pulling the straps down before flinging it behind Hongjoong, letting it join the other pile of clothes scattered about. Hongjoong instantly became hard again, but as much as he wanted to bury his pierced cock inside her and fuck her senseless, there was still one thing he really wanted to do.
Positioning herself in between her legs, his hands gripped the back of her thighs. Looking back at her, he sent a wink her way before attaching his mouth to her soaking heat, causing her to jolt up at the sudden sensation. Knowing exactly how to get her head spinning, Hongjoong slid his tongue up her slit, making sure to drag the metal piece across her folds. It was unlike anything she felt before. Hongjoong already was demonstrating his powerful tongue skills, but the piercing just added a whole new sensation that had her shivering. She couldn't contain the moans spilling out her mouth when his tongue slipped inside her hole, her noises only turning louder when he flicked his tongue in a particular way that made the round metal tip thump against her clit. Hongjoong especially loved doing that little maneuver of hitting her clit with it.
When she felt herself about to burst, Y/N's hands clutched the sheets underneath her.
"Hong-Hongjoong I'm gonna- Aaah!"
The fire pooling in her lower abdomen broke free and rushed down, sending burning sparks up her body as her body trembled at the sensation. Pressing a hand down to hold her still, Hongjoong lapped up her her juices, moaning on her clit, the vibrations only serving to make her more sensitive to any move he made on her body.
When he felt she was ready, he swiftly sat up and positioned his pierced member at her entrance. Making sure to prep her, he got out a bottle of lube out of his drawer and poured some onto the tip of his fingers, spreading it around before inserting two fingers inside her. It had a slight cooling effect that made Y/N hum in pleasure, her mouth going slightly agape when he inserted a third finger, scissoring her out and overall making sure she was stretched out enough.
"Patience doll. I don't want to cause any unnecessary pain....."
She let out a whimper when he withdrew his hand and slapped her clit.
"That much." He finished.
Propping herself on her elbows, she kept her gaze in between their legs. She let out a cry when Hongjoong's head slipped inside her, the round tips of the ampallang piercing stretching her hole in a delicious burn. Next came the metal ridges that scraped against her lower walls, it was an absolutely exhilarating experience. Hongjoong himself let out a groan when he fit himself inside her tight and warm cavern.
"Jesus babydoll. When was the last time you had a good fuck?" He gripped her hips, trying to keep himself from moving just yet.
"Too f-fucking long." She disclosed, her head falling back against the pillow in a disappointed look.
"Well don't worry babe. I'll make sure to fuck any name out of that brain of yours, you won't even remember your own."
Snapping his hips up, he began a rather hard and fast pace, making sure to angle himself so he hit her g-spot. Y/N's hands held onto his arms, choked breaths and screams coming out of her mouth as she began drowning in the immense pleasure he was giving her. The way the metallic piercings raked against her walls every time Hongjoong thrusted in and out of her was indescribable. At first it felt strange and slightly painful, but soon it became addicting, almost to the point of being overwhelming.
Hongjoong took notice of the way her lips parted whenever the ladder piercing grazed at a particular spot.
"You're enjoying this my angel? Like being fucked by my pierced dick?"
Licking his hand, he dropped it down to spank her throbbing and swollen clit, grinning almost sadistically when she shrieked out at his pleasurable torture.
"Do you just enjoy being used like a dirty little hole? Isn't that what you are in the end? Just a filthy hole for me to fuck as I like?"
The corners of her eyes began spilling out tiny droplets of tears as his hand continued his assault on her clit, slapping it until it turned a bright shade of pink. Feeling the intensity build up yet again in the pit of her stomach.
"Hongjoong! I'm gonna cum!" She warned him.
Snaking his hand to grip her neck, Hongjoong sped up his thrusts, fucking her in a frenzy, sending her into a mental state of pure euphoria as he cut off part of her breathing. Y/N shut her eyes as a violent orgasm ripped through her body, her body thrashing and quivering under Hongjoong's. With clenched teeth and furrowed eyes, Hongjoong completely shattered on top of her, spilling himself inside her clenched walls that were milking him past his breaking point. Releasing his grip on her neck, he collapsed on top of her body, his hands spread out to keep himself from dropping all his weight on her.
"Oh my god!" He panted harshly as he tried to collect his breath and thoughts.
She was in no better state than he was, hair all disheveled, pussy still throbbing and her chest heaving up and down as her mind went blank. She only came to her senses when she felt Hongjoong get up and go out of his room, leaving her confused.
Did he regret it? Did he not enjoy it? Was he going to ask her to leave?
It turns out it was none of the above since he came back with a packet of wet tissues.
"You ok?" He asked, looking at her with concern.
After being reassured that she was fine, he plucked out some of the tissues and began wiping between her legs and thighs.
"Ok, these gotta go."
Hongjoong ripped more of the already destroyed fishnet tights and got them off her body, letting it hit the floor.
"Not like I would have used them again." Y/N agreed.
After cleaning both her and himself up, they both stayed quiet. Clearing her throat, Y/N made way to get up.
"Guess it's my cue to leave.."
"Wait don't go!"
Grasping her wrist, he pulled her back onto the bed, making her slightly straddle his lap. Looking up at her with such tender eyes, he offered:
"Stay the night. I don't want you to go just yet."
He said it with such a pleading tone that Y/N didn't have the heart to refuse his request. She just allowed him to place her beside him on the bed, his chest pressed against her back as one of his arms wrapped around her. She closed her eyes and slowly began drifting off to sleep. She was halfway gone when she felt Hongjoong wrapped something cold around her neck. Opening her eyes, she reached up and felt leather on her skin.
"What's this?" She questioned as her finger toyed with whatever was dangling from the device.
Hongjoong smiled fondly at the black choker strapped around her neck.
"Don't worry about it. Just wear it for me..."
His hand traced the red heart pendant dangling from the choker, the letters 'KHJ' engraved on the center of it.
"So everyone can see that you're all mine now."
✽+†+✽――――✽+†+✽✽+†+✽――――✽+†+✽
#ateez#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez fanfiction#ateez fanfic#ateez hongjoong#ateez smut#ateez fluff#ateez angst#ateez college au#ateez hongjoong fanfic#ateez hongjoong fluff#ateez hongjoong scenarios#ateez hongjoong smut#goth!hongjoong#emo!hongjoong#kim hongjoong#kim hongjoong angst#kim hongjoong fluff#kim hongjoong fanfic#kim hongjoong smut#kim hongjoong scenarios#goth!ateez#emo!ateez
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Imitation
Commission for @beany-goes-dark I hope you like it, bby!
Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader
TW kidnapping/captivity, stockholm syndrome, referenced unnamed character death, mindbreak, implied abuse, forced pregnancy, breeding kink (kinda?), unhealthy relationships
He calls you kitten, mostly. Sometimes sweetheart. You don’t mind the pet names, especially when he says them so affectionately, with that lazy, indulgent smirk of his. It’s the other name that bothers you, the one that slips out in the heat of him fucking you, the one he whispers in the early hours before dawn when he thinks you’re fast asleep.
Her name.
It’s soft and pretty, spoken with a reverence that belongs in holy places, edged with a bitter wistfulness that makes something small inside of you shatter into a thousand pieces every time you hear it.
There are pictures of her; on his desk, lining the walls. One time when he let you sleep in his bed you found one lying under your pillow - hers at one point, you guess. The photo couldn’t have been more than a few years old, but it was worn, the edges crinkled and the image a little faded. You wonder how many nights he’s wasted lying in bed staring at it, fingers slowly tracing the lines of her face.
You wonder whether he pulls it out after he’s finished with you for the night, like he’s returning to her when all is said and done.
She’s beautiful. Even with tears in her eyes, the smile on her frozen face strained and unnatural, she’s gorgeous. You suppose it’s not hard to see why he fell for her in the first place.
And you can see why he chose you. She’s prettier than you by far, there’s no denying that, but your hair is similar, and there’s something in the shape of her face, the colour of your eyes. You might not be identical, but it’s more than just a passing resemblance.
And under the dim, flickering lights of his basement, you suppose it’s good enough.
Good enough means you get to eat. Not stale bread and plain rice spaced too far apart, but home cooked meals. Bowls of soup and curries, fresh fruit and warm drinks, once he even brought you dessert - chocolate dipped strawberries. Her favourite. He’d smiled as he fed them to you, hazel eyes darkening as you obediently licked and sucked the sweet, red juice from the fingers he slid between your lips.
Such a good girl for him.
Good girls get rewarded. A soft mattress. Blankets. Pretty clothes. Kuroo likes to spoil you when you play along. He’s nicer, too. You get kisses instead of punishments, and sometimes when he’s finished taking what he needs, he’ll stay - strong, muscular arms curled around your waist, your head tucked against his shoulder as he strokes your hair and hums an unfamiliar tune.
You can almost pretend there’s not a chain locked around your ankle when he kisses you and tells you how much he loves you. How badly he needs you.
Not you. Never you. You’ll never be her.
And it’s cruel, you think in the dead of the night when sleep is just out of reach, the way Kuroo treats you. Not the punishments or the icy indifference and isolation he subjects you to when you’re anything less than perfect, but the way he toys with you.
For as much as he wants you to be her, Kuroo never fails to remind you that you’re not.
Your voice isn’t hers, you say and do the wrong things - you can’t love him like she did. And when he’s reminded of that, your adoring captor turns cold. He becomes unloving. Distant.
Irritated.
Sometimes you catch him staring, those dark eyes flickering intently across your face, and you know that it’s not you he’s seeing - only to watch as they harden, all the softness and love leaching from hazel depths as the illusion fades.
There were others before you.
You don’t know how many, or what happened to them, but the day Kuroo brought home a friend, and apathetic, cat-like eyes appraise you, your suspicions were all but confirmed.
“Another one, Kuroo?” he scoffs, barely sparing you another glance.
Your captor ignores the comment entirely, and a moment later you’re tugged into his lap to be played with and fussed over as the two old friends catch up.
Kenma doesn’t visit often and rarely without Kuroo, but on the days Kuroo decides you’ve been good enough to roam the house freely, sometimes you catch him slipping in and out. He doesn’t pay you any mind, and why would he?
You’re just the latest plaything. A temporary pet.
Until the day you finally gather the courage to speak, clinging to the corner of the living room wall, barely peeking your head out.
“What happened to her?”
It’s obvious who you’re referring to.
And maybe it’s the fresh bruises that mar your pretty skin, or maybe he just doesn’t care to keep Kuroo’s secrets anymore, because he lets out a quiet sigh.
“She died.”
You flinch at his bluntness, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. The disdain on Kenma’s face is almost enough for you to tuck tail and run, and pray that he doesn’t tell Kuroo that you’ve been misbehaving, but as he turns to leave, you realise that if you don’t ask now, you might never get another chance, and you have to know.
“Did he kill her?”
He falters, just for a second.
“No,” he says. Slowly, he turns - not to face you, but to stare at a photograph sitting by the coffee table; Kuroo, with his arms wrapped around her, his lips pressed to her cheek in a loving kiss. If you ignore the clear discomfort on her face, the tears glistening in her eyes, it makes for a cute picture. You loathe the very sight of it. “She got pregnant and went into labour too early. He wouldn’t take her to the hospital, didn’t want to risk it, I guess.” He shrugs, but when he glances back at you there’s an uncharacteristic hardness to his features. “They didn’t make it.”
Nausea twists at your gut, and for one single moment, your heart breaks for her. For him. You’ve never really believed in soulmates or true love, but you have to wonder if that’s what she was to Kuroo. The be all, end all.
She must have been, for him to still be trying to keep her alive years later.
As if he can read the thoughts racing through your mind, golden eyes narrow into a withering scowl. “You’ll never come close to replacing her.”
It’s more than apathy, you realise. He hates you - well, not you specifically, but whatever you represent. He might not say anything to Kuroo, at least not within your earshot, but it’s clear that Kenma couldn’t care less whether you lived or died at the hands of his friend.
He turns to leave then, apparently done with the conversation, but you can’t stop the words that tumble from your lips. “How many?”
Kenma doesn’t acknowledge that he even heard the question, at least not until he reaches the front door. When he speaks, his voice is so quiet that you barely catch it at all. “You’re the fourth.”
In the beginning, it was a method of survival. It was obvious that Kuroo was bigger than you, stronger too. When he told you that you were his, when he called you by her name, you didn’t argue. You played your role - it was better, wasn’t it, to feed into the delusion than to make him mad by trying to break it?
But it’s been months now. Nobody is coming for you, nobody but him cares what happens to you anymore. You’re no closer to figuring out a way to escape, and you’re terrified that if you try and he catches you, you’ll end up like the others.
Kuroo… can be nice. Loving, even. He’s handsome and he takes care of you, when you’re good. He doesn’t enjoy inflicting pain, he doesn’t hurt you unless you deserve it. You need him - he’s the one who feeds you, who gives you clothes to wear, shelters you. If he decides tomorrow that you’re not good enough, what’s to stop him from ending it right then and there?
It’s not like you could fight him off, months locked in his basement have robbed you of what little physical strength you had left. It’s not like anybody else could stop him, or would even care to.
You’d die, and just like the other’s before you, you’d be forgotten, nothing but a pale imitation that quickly wore out its usefulness.
He might never love you like he loved her. And Kenma’s right, you won’t ever be able to replace her, but maybe… maybe if you give him what he wants, what he lost, he could find a way to love you for you.
You can give him the baby he wants.
Hours later, when the front door unlocks and Kuroo walks in, he barely has a chance to drop his bag and kick off his shoes before you’re bouncing towards him. Strong arms catch you when you leap, securing you against his chest as your legs wrap around his hips, “Did you miss me that much, kitten?” he asks with a grin, walking the both of you inside.
“I love you,” you breathlessly answer instead, reaching up to tangle a hand in raven locks and draw him down into a desperate, needy kiss before he has a chance to reply.
It’ll be enough.
It has to be.
#yandere haikyuu#yandere kuroo#yandere kuroo x reader#yandere kuroo tetsurou#yandere kuroo tetsuro x reader#tw stockholm syndrome#tw kidnapping#tw abuse#tw pregnancy#tw breeding kink#tw mindbreak#tw character death
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MERCY
• pairing; toji fushiguro x reader [ nsfw ]
• premise; it’s the same dance with him, a shameless game of cat and mouse in which he always win but maybe losing is equally as rewarding.
• words; 2078
• note & warning; i’m back with some toji content, he’s just been in my mind a little to long for me not the write about him. some warnings for this one is public, unprotected ( wrap it and then tap it folks ) sex, with the usual grammatical errors—I swear I try to proof read ya’ll but they just manage to find a way to stay in there. i am slowly but surely getting my mojo back.
Old habits die hard; it's easier to hate each other that way. Labeling whatever that was manifesting between the two of you as that, a bad habit. A dirty secret only an onyx sky could appreciate enough to hide. Perhaps that's what kept it alive and kicking, midnight turmoil, where even the most terrible of bad ideas are more seductive.
Though it's debatable if the alcohol left you unhinged, mindless, and bold. What other excuse did you have for allowing the bastard to enter your domain? There was no shame from the thinking without a conscience, but with the pounding music and pulsing lights, you weren't sure there was even space to think. He held a brazen stare all evening, keen to every move you made.
A man's attention was never anything to sneeze at, but when it was a straggler like Toji Fushiguro, it was intoxicating. And more than the liquor, everything seemed to be within reach under his spotlight. He held his distance, clung to the darkness, yet with such an adamant gaze he could have been right there beside you. At least, that's how you imagined it but the game wasn't that easy.
He'd stay in his dark corner, not quite able to step closer until you were ready. Until the heat underneath your skin became unbearable, leaving you an aching mess. That made it easier to devour you. Whether it meant burying his head between your thighs or hooking his arms around your waist and keeping you open. Or bottomed out inside you, mouth feasting on your chest.
The club was full, Friday night packed but it would work in your favor. You knew none of the songs, not that it mattered, it was mere fuel to your movements. A nice accessory to the sway of your hips, to suggestive temptation behind them.
It wasn't worth looking in his direction; he was always watching. At that thought alone, your clothes become a nuisance. A means to an end, that would start with him. Toji was a patient man but knew that patience didn't extend to everyone, you in particular. He was a tease, and as your dress inclined it almost felt as if he'd been the one to hike it up.
A sensation too similar to his hands moving over your bare thighs, ready to pry them open. His smug chuckle was right there feeding your imagination, and as one song faded into the next, there wasn't a spot on your body that hadn't been kissed in theory. With one thought, you were drooling over a man less than ten feet away, fantasizing about all the ways he could take you. It was more of a headache than it seems, and as the pace of the songs picks up, the conscience returns. Whilst you make your way back to the bar. You'd need a little more liquid luck to get through the rest of the night.
“That was quite a show.”
“Didn’t know I had an audience.” What else could you have done but tell a bald-faced lie? Telling him the truth didn't do anyone any good. How you envision him fucking you in the middle of the dance floor.
“Could’ve fooled me." The bar was located farther away from the DJ and next to the restrooms. The quieter end of the venue, but you're sure you'd have heard his smirk regardless.
After all this time, it's only then that you turn to him.“What are you doing here Fushiguro?”
Big mistake, ten feet away he looked the same as when you last saw him, but up close and personal, some details that had escaped memory came back to haunt you.
“Would you believe me if I told you, I’m here to see you?”
Yeah right, “Not in the slightest.”
“It’s true for the most part, had a job in the area and thought I’d pop in do some sightseeing." He shifted his weight back to the counter, his elbows well-rested on either side.
“Well you came and you saw.”
“On the contrary,” he said. The double meaning has turned your cheeks crimson, and you're thankful for the red lights underneath the counter. “Cute dress.”
Images from moments before gloss over your eyes, heating every part of your body. They burned a path down your chest before settling below your hips.
“Seriously Fushiguro what do you want? You made it pretty clear we both want different things the last time you popped in.”
“Things are different.” Sincere wasn't the word you or anyone else would use to describe the guy, but his demeanor defied all expectations. He seemed to be a completely different person.
“Yeah, they are,” you mumbled, tossing back a shot you managed to order before his interruption.
“Look," he started and turned to face you. Face inches from yours, his scent enveloping both of you. "I tried the settling down thing and it doesn’t work with my kind of lifestyle.”
It wasn't the words you wanted to hear, but you probably wouldn't have had them anyway. Wishful thinking, “Then that’s clears things up doesn’t it?”
Toji Fushiguro didn’t do apologies, much like he didn’t do commitment, and even as he called after you, that would never change. Something you wish your body would recognize, no matter how much it longed for him.
The corridor to the restrooms was too quiet for him being that close to you...too intimate. In the quick second you had turned you back to him, ready to sober up and head home, he’d already been behind you. Pushing you up against the wall in the far corner, his arms barricading you in.
“You’re quite stubborn, you know that.” His voice was low, quiet all to maintain the secrecy veiled in the darkness.
“Thanks, I’ll be sure to add it to my resume.” You witted, going to duck around him but he was quick and with a step forward his hips pushed yours in back place.
“Will you just listen,” he pleaded. Not that you had much of a choice, but he took your silence as obedience. “I won’t make excuses, I’m a shitty guy but it’s gotten me this far. You won’t get the white picket fence with me. That’s not who I am.”
It was true, he was a shitty person. One minute here and the next gone with the wind. All with impeccable timing, usually around when he’d finish fucking you senseless. Truthfully it wasn’t something too much of a problem, it was better if he had his life and you with your own. Though you supposed between the kisses, and that final thrust that brought you both over the edge left some vulnerability.
“If I’m stubborn, then you’re quite dense. I never asked for that Toji. I was fine with the wild sex but was a little conversation too much to ask? You’ve got baggage, newsflash so do I, but you’d think we’d handle it like two grown adults. You’ve always been on the move, please, slow down every once in a while.”
The silence is deafening, louder than the upbeat track in the distance. You were irritated, angry, and, to make it worse, aroused. What else did he expect from you but a meltdown? As he moved his head to your back, he lowered his arms, allowing them to ghost your waist. “I'm sorry,” he said softly, kissing it.
In retrospect, you should have jumped for joy, climbed to the top of the bar, and screamed at the top of your lungs like a lunatic, but you didn't. You didn't want to abandon his embrace at that moment; he had really changed.
The kiss in trial is slow and tender, responsive to not only the worries but any emotion in between. Everything you didn't think he was capable of and all rage bleeds into desire. Each of you starved and desperate to find a fill.
The stiffness of his pants condemned his hold, which found its power over your hips. You want to propose that he return the excitement to your place or whatever hotel he was staying in, but he broke the kiss to turn you around. His patience had reached its maximum for the night.
“Wait for a second,” you mumbled out. A slight moan slipped through feeling his erection firm and strong against your rear.
The ends of your dress taunted by his fingertips liked how you pictured them too. “Sorry princess, no can do.”
It’s almost impressive how quickly he lifts your dress and slipping a finger past your thong. But should anyone know your body in grave detail it was him.
There’s a ceremonial cheer from the crowd as the DJ lets the beat drop, Toji’s opportune moment of intrusion. Your own cry, not one in interest to the music but the long slender finger to part your folds.
“I’ve waited all night to get my hands on you,” he mumbled out, lips pressed to the back of your neck.
“Toji—”
“I’ll be quick, just the way you like it.”
It’s in your best interest to stop him there, keeping private matters just that, you should stop him...should.
“Fuck…quickly.” you cursed out in compliance. There’s a smirk on his face, you know it. Sure he’s different, but some things never change.
In the second he pulled his finger away, you whimper half expecting for it to slip back in, maybe even with a partner but a casual Friday night turns into Christmas.
“I'll take my time with you later, right now—” he started face pressed into the back of your shoulder. “I just need to be inside you.”
First was the tip of his cock, a feeble tickle before the rest of his inches followed. Stretching you full, slipping deep into your heat. Coaxing the ache that was for him, letting the world see just how easily your body welcomed his own. Yet, it was hard to care about the rest of the world when your own revolved around everything below your hips.
He gripped them tightly, anchoring you there at the hilt with a slow sure thrust before looping a hand to your front. Twisting the nerves in time with his sudden thrust. Quick like he said, but still slow enough to feel him move inside you. In and out, then over again. The excitement of having him there indulging with your body, and the anxiety of getting caught clashed. Making you even more aware of your walls around him, but in his muffled moans there are words of encouragement. Sweet nothings that make your arousal fierce, sexy, and less wrong.
“Don't stop, ” you say a little too loud for doing something taboo but you don't care, “Don't fucking stop.”
The million and one fantasy that flooded your mind on the dancefloor spirals, winding with the moment and coiled in an untamed void. Ready to snap at those trying to control it. And there, shrouded in the thin veil of privacy Toji picks up his pace, teasing it with each stroke until finally, it shudders through.
Coming in waves, meeting your peek every time he pushed forward. Bolting down your legs the more sloppy and anxious his hips became.
“Fuck, ” he grunts hands shooting to your chest. Pulling you closer to him, eating up your moans with his.
Almost feral with the way he continued despite his cock’s twitches, he wasn't nearly satisfied but that was a mess neither of you was capable of cleaning up at the moment. Regrettably, you push back on his rhythm stopping it completely. Snapping him from the haze.
“We should go, ” you whisper out on his lips. Which he can only grunt back in response to, hesitant to slip from your warmth.
His hands are glued to your body, unable to null all contact as you tugged your dress back down or as he tucks himself back into his pants. You'd ask whether it was back to your place or his but the languid look on his face as the two of you shamelessly stepped into the light made it fruitful. It didn't matter where the two of you went, he'd have you crying for mercy.
#jjk#Jujutsu Kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji fushiguro#fushiguro toji#toji fushiguro x reader#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader smut#fushiguro toji x reader smut#gojoho
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Calamitous Love
Paring: Dean Winchester x reader
Summary: Dean shows up at your house, but this is a calamitous love. Sooner or later, it's going to destroy.
A/N: I was based and inspired by so many things to get this ready, I can't even start pointing them here. This started as something and escalated to something else, and I'm immensely in love with how it is now. I'm posting a version of this through Dean's POV soon. The prompt is bolded and its for @tvdspngirl314's bday challenge! Hope you like it, honey! And happy bday.
Warnings: language, mentions of sex, fluff, angst, dean is a perv in a cute way, s1 dean Ily
Dean Winchester could easily remember how mad you were that night, after he purposely came to your party uninvited and stood on the porch talking to all your stupid friends. How the one you called the best out of them had wide eyes when she caught him there, and all the reaction she could get was him winking at her.
The man - who was more like a boy, really - with green eyes that matched your garden knew she would run and rush and breathlessly tell you that he was there.
Of course she did. Inez was never one for keeping secrets. He used to wonder if it was a matter of time for the blonde to spread yours.
Her loose lips were useful that night, though. He couldn't even finish his chatter about Chevrolet versus Toyota cars with that James guy before you bursted out of the door ferociously. Dean turned around and waited for many things; well-deserved slapping, indignated tears, a sharp scream strident enough to suppress the loud song which vibrated through everyone's skin like veins.
You surprised him once again.
You closed your eyelashes and took a deep breath, as if to control the burning fire behind your thoughts. The Winchester had seen her in arguments before, the whole ‘my mouth is a loaded gun without a trigger’ thing held an entirely new meaning. He knew you wanted to come at him, and Dean wouldn’t put any guilty on you for that. As you walked towards him, his brittle heart raced like one of those chick flick moments he always mocked about - yet, he couldn't help but stare. Your legs looked so good in that light, pretty ass that Dean loved to grab wrapped in a tight red skirt. You had a white tank with cleavage on and your hair was, as usual, free on its widest way. The hunter adored how your brown sea could never seem not to be a mess, and how you made chaos marvelous like a natural. He surely needed that in his life.
Isn’t it all you had been since the very beginning, honestly? Isn’t it what love utterly is when the lights are dim and the weather changes? Cutting right to the bone like a surgeon, you were that one thing, that one hand that would touch Dean’s weary head and make it rest, those unique lips who could whisper tales of hope in the backseat of his car and he could actually believe it. The one, you know, that one person who didn’t make the eldest Winchester feel like he cared more than he was cared for. He often experienced that math problem, dad never seemed to be satisfied enough to be proud of him, and Sam was always talking about how he wanted to leave someday.
‘’Dean.’’ You said and your tone was harsh, a single eyebrow arched with a quiet defying question. The green eyed man wouldn't be shocked if you had called him out before when he was too busy paying attention to you to notice. ‘’Let's go to the garden.’’
And then you grabbed his wrist, sneaking in through the rusting garden gates in the back of your house. Such mere touch put his skin on flames. So many others, mostly monsters or people who were really monsters at heart, already chained his hands and he always broke the cuffs. This time, in your hands, Dean almost wished he could stay put, grounded to something else other than bloody walls and oily guns. He missed you so much. The way your fingers felt on his cheeks, how you'd allow him to kiss every inch of your body, and how you seemed to understand.
Anyway, it wasn't time for him to turn sentimental just yet. Leave it to Sam.
Dean’s boots were cruel against the grass, walking side by side with your high heels ones. Above all the partying noise, they both were quiet for once, as if they were going into a clandestine meeting.
He hated it.
‘’What the fuck are you doing here?’’ you turned around in a swift move before crossing your arms. It took a lot of self control not to glare at your breast, which is why Dean didn’t. He pictured it wasn’t that bed since he was only glancing for a few seconds and the malicious smirk on his face faded into him licking his bottom lip through the memories of fucking, grabbing and playing with them. You rolled your eyes, impressed by my immature behavior. ‘’Winchester, I asked what you are doing here.’’
Always so dominant in every situation but in bed. He sighed to himself, man, I can’t lose her.
‘’Listen, Y/N/N, I’m sorry.’’
‘’You are sorry? You can take your apologies and put them in your sorry ass till’ they come out of your mouth, Dean.’’ And, of course, stubborn. Dean Winchester wouldn't be so attracted to you in any other way. Frisky women always had the best him.
He groaned, ‘’Y/N, come on, it wasn't like that--’’
You interrupted his reasoning with a laugh empty of joy: ‘’You left me. You just walked away. No calls, no texts, just left. You promised you wouldn't. You said I could trust you.’’
‘’And you can!’’
He wasn’t able to blame you for that. Still, it broke him to hear every casual syllable in raw honesty. Dean would kill for you, and you didn’t even trust him because he ran away without any note, or previous warning, or anything. If only he could do the trick of just opening his mouth and allowing his emotions to come arrive, like Sam did all the time. All he tried to be, his little brother was simply born that way. He could never be like Sammy and you deserved a guy like him. Yet, the bruised man - more like a scared boy, really - remained in front of you. Because, for once, Dean wanted to act selfish and get it what he craved for. Just this once.
‘’To leave? Sure.’’ Nonetheless, you never learned how to read his mind, so you just aim a wry smile at him. ‘’Sorry, pal. I already have my mom to do that.’’
In that moment, every word you said was a stone designed to shatter him, and it was working fatefully. Sometimes, the green eyed hunter wished he was the one being left instead of leaving people behind. But how could you know that? It's the job side effect.
Taking a deep breath, your name is leaving his lips calmly. The most calm he had ever been since my three childhood years. ‘’Y/N…’’
‘’No, Dean.’’ You spoke. Because his forest eyes matched a lot with the grass in your garden under that dim light, almost like he was made to be there and you didn’t think you could do it again; lose him. It was too much.
‘’Dang, woman. I'm trying to explain!’’
‘’No, you are trying to come up with a stupid lie to cover up whatever you were doing for two weeks! I'm not stupid and I know you.’’ You accused, exasperatedly slapping your own tights. You were right, he had showed up to your party with a dumb excuse on his tongue, ready to tell you anything but the truth. Fuck, how the short haired hunter wanted you to have the imaginary money to buy one of his cheap lies. ‘’Tell me the truth. Don't come up with my dad needed help with a car and all that. What happened to you, Dean?’’
‘’I can't tell you.’’ He shrugged in frustration.
I want to tell you everything, even the details in the corner, the monster in the forest.
You smile sarcastically, ‘’I don't see a fold on your lips.’’
But I can’t.
Dean huffed, pursing his lips. ‘’You would hate me.’’
You would think I’m a crazy liar.
‘’I already do.’’
You can be so violent when hurt. You both have bullets in different body parts, and there you are trying to shoot him. Modern Romeo and Juliet, a hunter romance; they try to kill each other instead of the evil thing.
‘’Y/N, you are gonna think I'm crazy.’’ He wiped his face, exasperated for you to change the subject.
Your lips were shut, the light reflected on you. Dean was glaring at you in a quiet desire for you to stay, to make him stay. But you stand still, looking away with delicate woe contorting your features.
It was clear after a hunt when the hunter should leave the town. And it was clear now that he killed any hope for them that Dean shall do what he usually does after a case. Nodding with a sigh, started to walk away.
But you stopped him.
‘’What are you doing?’’ You, in fact, sounded confused. Dean’s eyebrows knitted together, unsure if you two were having the conversation he thought you were not even one minute ago.
The answer resonated more like a question than anything: ‘’Leaving?’’
Your next words were the equivalent to the three ones he had never dared to say. ‘’I don't want you to leave.’’
Yes, the Winchester’s heart was pouring as fast as it was when he went on his first hunt. Yes, he could hear an old rock song playing when you have that look on your face. Yes, he knew he was acting like Sammy and all his cheesy discourses right now.
Who cares?
Apart from all that, Dean offered you a cocky smile. ‘’What do you want, sweetheart?’’
‘’Kiss me.’’
And he did. You trusted him in the garden and he got you back. Dean kissed you in the porch in front of all your stupid friends, too. And then he kissed you again in my car under the streetlight and in so many other uncountable places.
He was the person who got left a few years after that. As if his sorrow had become the prey for some cosmic joke. Sammy left for Stanford and it made his dad, well, more dad than usual. The weird thing was, inside of the grief of being left, Dean understood what he did to you. He had a lot of blood in his hands, enough to turn an ocean red if he ever tried to clean them, but I knew that leaving you was the worst thing that I had ever done.
Well, at least that was what two bottles of Whiskey helped him to get to.
Dean guessed he got what you felt on your porch that night as well. When he walked in, you knew you'd forgive him but you needed to sting back. As Sam left, his older brother already knew he'd forgive him, too. Dean fought about it, and I felt betrayed- wounded animals still attack. But he had forgave him the moment he missed him.
You forgave Dean too, and nowadays he resented for that with an insufferable regret. Because then he told you the truth about the world and showed you his scars. He kissed you, and your lips found every ugly in him. Still, they kept asking him for more. Your lips were the bed for my monster to sleep under.
Real monsters found them.
A few years later, the trio was in a town. You had a vacation from college - you dated a hunter with 5 bucks to his name, and you were studying journalism in a conceited university. It made no sense to Dean sometimes. All you asked for was to spend your free time with him and a call each night to make sure he was alive, which he gave you happily. Besides finding a way to go near your city at least once a month, more for himself than anything else. How did he get so lucky?
You liked certain aspects of the hunter life, surprisingly. The driving away, the creatures, even the restaurants. ‘’Come on, you guys hunt monsters. How cool is that? Also just driving, eating in a new place everyday. Did I mention monsters are real? You guys are like heroes!’’
He shook his head at your optimism, stroking your naked form gently that night.‘’We aren't here, Y/N. This life, it ends early and bloody. There is no place for white fancies and normal.’’
‘’Who said that I want that?’’ You mocked right before pressing your lips to the hickey on his neck, gaining a content groan from Dean. ‘’You monsters. As far as I'm concerned, you are a hero. My hero.’’ You add a subtle joke. ‘’Like a fairytale.’’
He scoffed and pulled you closer. ‘’More like a horror movie.’’
‘’Haven’t you read fairytales?’’
‘’No, but I did see the porn version.’’ Done with talking, he got on top of you, wearing that lopsided grin that started it all over again.
Years back, he asked you what you wanted. And you said, kiss me.
You kept saying that for a decade. Growing that calamitous love, feeding it with stolen glances and touches. If you knew what’s next, would you do it again?
Now you are laying on the ground as he got on my knees and pulled you closer. You are almost dead, a half lifeless body, but you hold on so tight to life, gasping for it. His stubborn girl who he loved so.
Your voice, usually so determined, is barely a whimper. ‘’Everyone wants a fairytale love.’’
‘’What? Don’t get sentimental on me, Y/N. You aren’t gonna die.’’ Dean says exasperated. It isn’t blind faith, unrealistic optimism or anything like this. It’s denial, one of the stages of grief he’s familiar with. It lives with him, as loyal as a dog, as present as a long lost mother’s love; he ignores the acceptance and hope, jumping right into anger, guilt, denial, and bargains with the devil. As if death is a champagne problem he can just drink and be done with because hey, if you can’t lose something, then you won’t right? Right? And if you do lose it, then you’ll just die too. Someone loses oxygen, they die. Someone loses too much blood, they die.
He will die if he loses you, he will. Dean is devastatingly sure of that. He can feel it in his bones. If you die, he dies. His body, his cicatrized soul was made out of in woe. That man - scared little boy like he was when Mary died, really -, He knows sadness like an old lover who always visits, and death is an old friend who always shakes his hands and appears without an invite. Dean Winchester knows pain, alright? Ask any person, he’s the Rome for men, built in ruins despise the beauty of good.
But this? No. He can’t survive. It isn’t possible that someone can hold so much suffering and agony. Skin and bone can only take so many hematomas.
‘’Dean, shut up.’’ You place your hand on his cheek and Dean can’t help but lean in. His green eyes are glistening, the memory of the garden reminiscing in the back of your mind. ‘’I’ve wanted a fairytale love since I was a kid and my dad used to read the books my mom left on the shelf for me. So, in my defense, I never actually read them.’’
‘’Is this what a fairytale looks to you?’’ The eldest Winchester asks, not missing how your touch is colder against him. Where’s Sam with the car? Where’s a miracle? Where’s the justice and fair things and anything good? Dying in his arms, sinking her fingernails into his skin.
‘’The original ones, yes. They are just like that.’’ You chortle, but what’s meant to sound like happiness develops into a cough. All the energy and strength you have are used to push the words. You need Dean to know. ‘’I don't regret anything. You loved me, and I loved you. This is good. I don’t want your silly little mind to think any other way. You aren’t the villain in my story, Dean. You are the…’’ You’re interrupted by your own body giving up on you at an alarming rate, more bloodstained coughing.
‘’Don’t speak, honey. You’ll be alright, okay? No goodbye, we don’t do goodbye. You’ll be alright. Just keep yourself awake, ok?’’ Dean doesn’t know what to do other than hold you. What does one do with all the throbbing aches? He can’t say he will see you in heaven if you die. Staying with you for ten years was heaven already and this is the price he pays. That’s like when the ocean drains in a flash right in front of your eyes and someone tells you to swim in the sky instead. He can’t jump high enough to get it, he isn’t tall enough to get it. But God, Dean can’t just give up, he can’t just let you go. You are bleeding out and he’s dying with you. ‘’Please.’’ The Winchester pleas. ‘’Don’t leave me. Please.’’
If this is how you die and you can only pick up some words to say, you need to spell love. You need Dean Winchester to know he was loved with your last breath, there’s no better use to life other than love. Therefore, it’s easy to know what to voice when you look into his eyes one last time. ‘’I love you.’’
Through the agony, Dean gives you the sort of smile... You know, the sort of smile that can only be described by I put my home on fire, so I could eat all the flames and all the bright blaze is in my teeth now. Because something is burning and you are becoming ashes, but you love this. You love that boy and he loves you. You’d do it all again. He rests his forehead against yours and you can feel his tears on your face, his hands holding you for dear life.
‘’I love you too.’’
It’s a good thing to hear as you close your eyes.
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(secret) lovers | m
summary; the (not) best friends 2 lovers spin-off where jungkook and you are trying to hide your relationship from his old best friend
pairing; jungkook x reader (f)
genre/warnings; established relationship, jiyu is now an old friend and mc went to high school w them, weeb!koo, jk n mc be kinda stanky bc they’re only going to this party for the free booze, soft dom!mc, switch!koo, whiny koo, mc calls jk a slut, cockwarming, gets really soft n’loving at the end, heavy use of the pet name [redacted] i really think this couple is meant to be diabolically dumb together
w/c; 2.7k
a/n; this couple is really out here living rent free in my mind. jk, mc and jiyu really just are that thruple that i love to hate and hate to love. hope u enjoy this lil spin off!
[series masterlist]
“You made it!”
Jiyu flings her hands out, knocking both your heads with hers in the middle in a surprisingly strong hug. It’s a complete episode of déjà vu, from the way her body smells like the peach lotion she used after gym class to the shade of coral lipgloss. From the corner of your eye, you can see the caramel brunette’s tiny face is inching closer towards your ride, her head tucking in the crook of his neck.
“Jiyu,” you beam. You’re the first to speak, the first to dip their toe in the water. “You look great!”
“Thank you!” she pulls away, popping her hip against the doorway. The silky material of her coverup gleams in the sunlight, the silvery material showing off the silhouette of her bikini-clad body. Despite the fact that you’re the one who compliments Jiyu, her gaze floats over to the person next to you, “what a coincidence you two came at the same time and—oh my, and where are my manners! Come in, come in!”
She moves away from the door, revealing an ornate lobby and two twin stairwells. You can’t help but light up at the beautiful crystal chandelier, flecks of pink and blue flickering in your eyes. Further down the hallway you spot open glass doors that lead to a large backyard that overlooks the lake. Some people are already sitting by the dock, lounging about with drinks and happy smiles on their faces.
“Actually,” Oh, he speaks. You think with a small smile on your face, side eyeing the man of the minute, “I forgot the rest of my luggage. We’ll meet you inside.”
“Okay!” Jiyu smiles, “I’ll make you guys some drinks.”
As soon as the door shuts, Jeon Jungkook, your boyfriend for three years blurts out, “She still has a crush on me.”
You snort, taking off the duffle bag that’s hiding behind your back. Continuing to stand awkwardly at the front door, you prepare yourself to console your boyfriend’s worries. “She still has heart-eyes for you, Koo,” you tease, pinching his side.
His eyes are big and swimming with guilt, “We should tell her.”
“Oh, baby. We can’t break her heart this weekend.”
“But love, it’s her birthday.”
“Exactly,” you chirp, bumping your head against his arm, “can’t break her heart on her birthday.”
Jiyu is an old high school friend. Class president, straight As, and even vied for prom queen. The only thing she wasn’t able to obtain throughout her high school years was Jeon Jungkook, the object of her affections. They were best friends in elementary school, eventually turning into distant friends as their interests changed and they got older. Yet, Jiyu still tried to insert herself into Jungkook’s life. Back in high school it was surely cute, the way she’d pine from the back of the room and place anonymous love letters in his locker, but Jungkook wasn’t interested and avoided any of her advances. Fast forward ten years later and it seems like old flames never die out.
The meetups with Jiyu have been scarce since college and only in large groups. As former class president, she decided to hold a little reunion for her old friends, taking advantage of her stellar job benefits. A weekend in the woods, perfectly balmy and far away from the city.
“I don’t wanna lie,” Jungkook nearly whines, pink lips warbling at your inability to budge.
“Mm,” you hum, tracing the fingers across the seam of his back pocket. His boardshorts hide nothing, and you curl your fingers around the swell of his plump bum, “be good for me and tell a little white lie, will you?”
Jeon Jungkook, former President of the Anime Club, prom king candidate and your favorite nerd in the entire world.
A teeny tiny lie won’t hurt anyone. After all, you haven’t seen your high school buddies in literal years, and they wouldn’t dare bother to make a fuss about your relationship. In fact, they don’t know of your relationship with Jungkook. The two of you reconnected randomly, some spontaneous holiday party Kim Seokjin is always inclined to throw. You barely made eye contact the first two hours into it, not really wanting to go back to the hellhole that was your late teenage years. Nevertheless, by the end of the night the two of you couldn’t help yourself.
As you look around the room with utmost confidence, the two of you have made the finest glow up by far. At first you wanted to keep the white lie to save face, you don’t owe anyone an explanation as to how you and the President of the Anime Club hooked up. However, you’re starting to enjoy the ruse.
Jungkook’s sitting on the other side of the backyard, looking absolutely delicious as he sips on whatever fruity cocktail he created. Judging from yours, you have a feeling his drink probably consists of 95% orange juice and 5% alcohol.
Jiyu and him are sitting in the large netted hammock, swinging lightly. Gravity is doing its thing, and Jiyu is practically laying on top of Jungkook’s lap, her body pooling to where his meets in the middle. As soon as his thigh touches hers, his eyes flicker to you in panic. He’s shirtless, only with a pair of mid-cut shorts to protect him. The skin that touches him probably burns.
You wink and wave him away, assuring him it’s fine. Pretending to flip your hair, you turn back to the conversation you’ve been ignoring for the past five minutes. “Man, Jungkook’s so sexy,” Im Nayeon cooes, looking longingly at Jungkook’s form.
“Jiyu’s so lucky,” Rina eggs on, taking another shot from the tray (a tray for herself, you might add.)
“Do you think Jiyu’s gonna get some birthday sex tonight?”
Nayeon snorts, covering her flared nostrils with her hand. That hand eventually loops around your thigh, eagerly pushing you two together by pressing on the meat of your bare skin. “If she’s lucky! Besides, we all know Jungkook had that big crush on you junior year!”
Her pretty bunny teeth tease you, and you can’t help but smile back in return. “What do you mean, he really liked me?” you ask innocently.
“Oh yeah! Drew so many little pictures of you in the margins. Little anime versions of you in his favorite outfits.” Of course, you know about Jungkook’s old crush on you. He’s mentioned it in passing, paired with an adorable blush on his cheeks. Hearing it from Nayeon, the shameless grin on her lips and the ease of champagne on her breath is much more entertaining. “Rina, do you remember when Jungkook set up her desk with rose petals and chocolate in a little heart? And then in the morning the janitor sweeped it up? He was so sad!”
“Yes! I really felt for him,” Rina pouted.
“Oh, poor baby,” you didn’t know that bit of information. You put a hand over your heart, watching as Jungkook shares a drink with his old friend Kim Mingyu. He looks so different, yet all the same since you’ve been acquaintances in high school. He carries his own weight now, an air of confidence that he’s finally reached over time.
“Definitely not a baby anymore,” Rina scoffs. She clicks her tongue back to where Jungkook is seated.
The sun is doing wonders for him, highlighting every crevice of where his biceps curl and twist as he lifts his hand in another drink. Their side of the lawn is doing a toast. For what, you don’t know. You do know however, that Jiyu is trying very hard to cheer right over Jungkook’s thighs, spilling some liquid over his knees. You smirk when Jiyu sends him an apologetic grin, dabbing a napkin up and across his thighs, far away from the wet spot.
Jungkook, the poor guy, discreetly shoves her off. He brushes his hands and gets up, letting Jiyu fall back in the hammock all by herself. Avoiding the teasing gazes of his friends, he looks into the lake, hiding his blush.
Still a baby, you think. Your baby.
“Jiyu was practically sitting in your lap, baby boy,” you card your hand through his dark locks, fresh and shiny from the shower. The feeling is soothing to Jungkook’s scalp until you tug, arching his neck towards your lips and twisting, “did you like that,” you mumble into his Adam’s apple, “my little slut?”
“N-no! Never, ohgodnever—” Jungkook is sweating, fat beads rolling down his hairline and glistening across his face. His fingers are practically phasing through your skin, the crescents of his fingernails sinking into the swell of your bottom.
You clench around his dick, your soft folds urging Jungkook closer to his release. But he knows better not to move, and instead shudders from the ministrations, breaking apart from you to dip his head into your chest. His nose pokes at the bouncy flesh, nuzzling into your breast like the softest pillow.
“Sh-shit, love,” he cries into your skin, “you feel so warm n’soft.”
“You need to be quiet, baby,” you murmur, playing with the curls that hang around the nape of his neck, “unless—you want someone to hear? My little slut wants everyone to hear that I’m fucking you?”
“Mm, no,” you grin at his honest reaction, and you can feel his neck heating up at the thought. Your fingers make their way, finally ending towards the apples of his cheeks. You squish lightly, loving the way his tanned skin puffs under your fingers. “I’m—ah—not a slut. I just really love you, only you. Really wanted to hold you in my lap today and show you off,” he whimpers at the unconscious clench of your folds, “just uh—slut for you, love.”
You giggle, tightening your thighs around your boyfriend’s tiny waist. Your other hands trail down to the ridges of his abdomen, where you two are connected. You absolutely love the way your thighs wrap around his lean waist.
Jiyu split the floors by girls and boys, as if you’re still in high school. It took forever for everyone to fall asleep, but you managed to sneak away with your bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor. Call yourself needy, but you couldn’t imagine yourself falling asleep with at least one good night kiss. Jungkook was ten steps ahead of you. Your boyfriend was already naked when you arrived, pumping his cock across the bed and getting himself ready for you. His eyes instantly zeroed in on you in his shirt, the black material hanging off your shoulder and begging to be pulled away by his teeth.
“If I crawled in your lap today,” you murmur into his shoulder, “our whole secret would’ve been thrown out the window.”
“I wouldn’t have minded, even if Jiyu got hurt,” Jungkook admits, running his hands up and down your back, “I wanna marry you, y’know.”
You freeze in your ministrations, suddenly feeling the room go cold. Not in an unpleasant way, but the room freezes, the blue-white light of the moon igniting the seriousness in Jungkook’s gaze. You force yourself to stay on his lap, let his cock settle between your folds. The juices of your coupling are dripping down each other’s legs, cooling at your thighs and onto the white blankets.
“You wanna marry me?” you echo, running your thumbs across his shiny lips.
Of course, you’re at that age. Everyone around you is getting married, heck many people your age are already in the middle of creating a family, going on vacations to Disney and picnics in the playground. And yes, you also have thought about marrying Jungkook, he’s the only man you can picture marrying. Yet, hearing it out loud and from him only further fuels your desire to make these thoughts a reality.
He kisses your thumbs, lips smushing against the pads. “Of course I do, love. You’re it for me.”
You relinquish, slowly pulling yourself off of him. He’s still hard as you untack yourself, his member slapping against his belly button as he watches you in confusion. You make a show of fluffing up the pillows, arching your back and wiggling your ass as you make yourself comfortable to lay on your back.
“Show me, baby,” you spread your legs for him, gesturing for him to come closer with a curl of your finger, “show me how much you want to marry me.”
Jungkook smirks, hands immediately pumping with a squelching sound resulting from yours and his combined arousal. You love it when Jungkook takes the lead, just as much as you do. It makes you feel like a pillow princess, especially when you feel lovey sex is on the way. “Will you be quiet? Just like you tried to make me quiet?” he rasps, wrapping a hand around your waist to arch you up.
“Depends on how good you are.”
The head of his dick rubs against your clit, slapping lightly at the shiny skin. You both moan when he finally gives you what you both need. As soon as the tip of his dick sinks down, you feel like you’ve both hit home. It doesn’t take long for him to find his pace, naturally throwing your leg over his shoulder for added leverage.
“Oh—fuck, baby,” you tug at his hair, pulling him in for a wet kiss. You don’t care that you’re slobbering all over him, the bed creaking and squeaking against his minstraitions. “I—uh, you feel so deep—yes!”
“When we’re married I’ll fuck you every day like this, love,” he whispers between your lips, thrusting in a particularly sensitive spot that has you arching your back and pulling your chest to his, “I—ugh, I love you so much.”
“Love you. Love youlovelove—ah! Kook, I’m—”
The two of you don’t spare any time, the sun will eventually rise and you’ll be back to playing strangers. Jungkook pounds you into the mattress, nails you with enough cum for you to last the next day without having to sneak into each other’s room like horny teenagers. The roughness is smoothed out by love and bliss, eager at the thought of going home and anticipating a permanent life together.
Five minutes later, you’re starting to feel a little too sticky. “Ohmygod—I need to fucking pee,” you pull yourself away from Jungkook’s sweaty body, palming around for your t-shirt.
“Just pee on the bed,” Jungkook grins.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” you make a face, “nasty.”
“You like that I’m nasty.”
“Yeah yeah.”
With one last kiss, you skip away from his bedroom and close the door behind you. Unfortunately, as soon as you take five steps in the direction of the bathroom, somebody emerges from the shadows.
“Holy shit, Jiyu,” you put a hand on your heart, eyes widening at her peeking in from the hallway. “You scared me.”
“I’m so sorry,” she frowns, squinting her eyes to make you out in the dark. It’s easier to see her in her white slip, a thin chiffon material that barely covers her thighs.
You don’t question why she’s out in the hallway in really pretty lingerie, or why she’s on the boy’s side of the house. So much for being discreet. Then again, there must be an ulterior motive for her if she’s already here, five feet away from Jungkook’s room. You wouldn’t have been caught if she hadn’t been so sneaky. (Well, not so sneaky. You got to him first.) You smell like sweat, arousal, and Jungkook. The shirt you’re wearing feels far too short and the cum in your panties feels tacky and gooey. You feel like a teenager being caught smoking.
“Why?” Jiyu’s voice suddenly sounds as dark as the early morning, no sign of the sun.
“Why what?” you answer, furrowing your brows at the sudden change in demeanor.
“Why?” she hisses, eyes wide with pain and confusion, “why Jungkook?”
You frown, not liking her attitude. Did she think it was a contest to who would fuck Jungkook first? Did she think she was being slick, sneaking away into a bedroom she has no business being in, even if he was single? You could laugh. So despite your height you steel yourself, looking at Jiyu straight in the eye.
“Because Jungkook’s mine, and I’m marrying him.”
As you pad down the hallway as fast as you can, you send Jungkook a quick text.
[5:44AM] love: pack it up. Plan b go fake a fever we gotta go lol
#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#btsghostie#kwritersworldnet#btswritingcafe#btsguild#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#bts fic#bts smut
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Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Four
Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2960
Warnings: Itsy bitsy amount of angst, bad language words, mentions of phone sex and masturbation
A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics
DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission
“James?”
You held your breath after you uttered the name into the phone’s speaker. Your heart galloped at the thought of actually speaking to him. You’d be lying if you had said you hadn’t imagined how his voice sounded. You pictured something deep and raspy but drawled and sweet.
In the last five days, you’d imagined many things about James. Not just the sound of his voice, but his laugh, too. Rich and soothing. And of his scent- distinctly his own or a fresh, citrusy cologne of bergamot and tangerines. You imagined his rough, calloused hands sliding over your skin in slow motion.
And how he kissed. You daydreamed about that, too. Often. You couldn’t count how many times you’d stared at his sorry excuse for a selfie. You found yourself drawn to it daily. It was only part of his face, but what you could see was ruggedly handsome. His lips looked soft and delectable. You pictured yourself nibbling on his bottom lip, deepening its color to blush pink.
A sharp sigh escaped through your nose as you waited for his reply. Maybe he hadn’t heard you the first time? “James?” you asked again. “Hello?”
No response.
You pulled the phone away from your ear to make sure you were still connected. The call-time counter ticked ominously second by second on the screen. You tucked the device back under your hair to find the call was still active.
Did he get cold feet and change his mind last minute? He hadn’t hung up yet, so you weren’t exactly sure why he was waiting. Maybe he was tongue-tied? Or hadn’t expected you to pick up?
“Did you butt-dial me, James?” you laughed, trying to dispel some of your anxiety.
You heard a muffled “ shit” and two beeps. You glanced at the phone’s screen again, and call ended flashed in bold white.
Ignoring the hang-up, you immediately re-dialed James. The line rang and rang. And rang.
You weren’t confident you were going to speak with James, the longer the rings continued. He wasn’t ready to talk to you yet, and that was okay. It had only been five days.
Five days wasn’t long enough to build a bond over stupid Would You Rather? questions or form a simmering crush on a stranger that made your stomach flip whenever he sent you a funny cat meme. Nope. Five days was much too short of time for anything.
A generic voicemail greeting clicked over and rudely beeped at you. You took a deep breath and quickly thought of a reason to be calling someone who didn’t want to talk. “Hey, James. Just calling you back. It’s (Y/N), by the way. I’m not sure if you meant to call the first time or if sneaky ninjas have accosted you and somehow did a crazy pocket dial. Y’know, because of the whole military-trained assassin athlete mchottie thing. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And no pressure! If you’re not comfortable talking on the phone, I completely understand. I’m sweating bullets just talking to your voicemail box.” You chuckled nervously. You were starting to babble.
“Anyway,” you continued. “I hope you’re well. And don’t leave me hangin’. I really wanna know if you’d rather sneeze every hour or burp when you saw a pretty girl.” You laughed again. “Goodbye, James.”
You mashed the end call button and face-planted into one of the throw pillows on your couch. You groaned loudly into the fabric, chastising yourself in your head. If he didn’t want to talk before, he most definitely wouldn’t want to now. You shook your head in disbelief. Sneaky ninjas, seriously? What. The. Fuck?
Hours later, while in the middle of a Say Yes to the Dress marathon (dammit Robyn!) and a self-induced diabetic coma of ice cream and chips, your phone vibrated. You swat at it on the coffee table with a foot, only to realize you lack the limberness or the dexterity in your toes to retrieve the phone. As a result, it tumbled to the ground as you groaned in displeasure. Cursing your luck, you bent forward to pick it up. Awakening the phone’s black screen, a text popped into view.
James Sorry
Your heart lurched for a moment. With every second that had passed since you’d left your voicemail for James, the least likely you’d felt he’d call back or even respond. Hence the pity party with Ben & Jerry and Cool Ranch Doritos.
James My so-called “friends” grabbed my phone from me and led to accidentally calling you.
Ahh, the old “invade-your-friend’s-privacy” maneuver, you thought, shaking your head.
James I didn’t want to hang up on you, but I’m not quite ready to talk yet. I like what we have.
Your heart flopped. You liked what you had, too, but a small part of you- a dumb part- wanted just a little more.
Shaking off the feeling of longing churning your insides, you thumbed over the screen to reply.
You No worries, James. We can go at whatever speed you like.
It was weird to have the guy, for once, want to take things slow. Usually, it was always you pumping the brakes in the relationship. Was this even a relationship, though? Were all the texting and personal questions leading somewhere? Or were you bound to end up friends with an interesting story to tell your other friends?
Not allowing your negative thoughts to curtail the joy of finally texting James again, you quickly punched out:
You I’m just glad you’re okay and not being held for ransom somewhere.
James It would take a whole horde of ninjas to take me down.
You giggled at the confidence contained in this one text, but talking to a girl on the phone threw him for a loop. We are definitely back in junior high, you thought.
You You sound awfully confident for a man who wouldn’t talk to a friend on the phone.
James You don’t want to talk to me.
You pinched your eyebrows together in frustration to form a crease between them. Was he serious?
You Sure, I do. I have a bet going with myself on how your voice sounds. Is it deep and masculine or high-pitched like you sucked in helium?
James Which are you betting on?
You pulled your bottom lip in by your teeth, biting softly. You smirked as you thought of the two options. The former would be nice, but the latter would be pretty damn funny.
You I mean, deep and masculine is very desirable. Listening to the low timbre of a man’s voice is very relaxing for me. But, considering the ridiculous “selfie” you sent me, I’m placing my money on high-pitched.
James What was wrong with my selfie?!
Somehow, you knew that would get him worked up.
You Well, for starters: I can only see, like, part of your face! Did a blind person teach you how to take them??
You And secondly, there clearly wasn’t enough “Blue Steel.” With cheekbones and pouty lips like yours and a chiseled jaw, I’d be blue-steeling the shit out of all my selfies!
A wave of remorse washed over you once you hit send. Had you really compared him to Zoolander? Not only had you objectified him by mentioning how aesthetically pleasing he was (let’s face it- he’s really, really, really ridiculously good looking), but you may have criticized him for his terrible selfie abilities. At that moment, as you waited for the inevitable “fuck off” text to come through, you wished for a giant sinkhole to appear under your apartment and swallow you whole. What were you thinking?
James First off, I’m a selfie amateur. My past line of work limited my contact and/or exposure to the outside world. I didn’t learn what a selfie even was until recently. Remember, I’m also a man of mystery. I’m trying to keep up appearances and can’t reveal too much.
James What is “Blue Steel”? I’m not very pop-culture savvy unless it happened before 1944.
James Did you just call me pretty??
Your cheeks flushed with the heat of a thousand suns. He called you out as you expected him to do.
You Uh...
You Are we gonna talk about the fact you said you didn’t know about pop culture after 1944?? You are a grandpa!
James Nice try with the subject change! Admit it- you think I’m pretty.
You rolled your eyes. Of course, that would be the thing he focused on out of the whole conversation.
You I have no idea what you’re talking about.
If all else fails--deny, deny, deny.
James Right. Sure about that, doll?
Your pulse spiked.
You never did like pet names before you met James, but doll had a goo-ing effect on you for some reason. Everything seemed to turn to mush whenever he mentioned the word.
You Absolutely. I have no reason to believe that if you weren’t a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie, you’d be a male model. None what-so-ever.
James Uh-huh. I’m going to pretend that you aren’t lying through your teeth and getting back to our scintillating game of Would You Rather?
James I’d burp every time I saw a pretty dame, by the way. I wouldn’t want to take my chances with sneezing in my sleep. Would you rather eat only fruits or vegetables for one year?
Several nights after the voicemail incident, you were sitting in Penelope with Robyn after work. She wanted to meet up to decide which centerpieces worked best for the reception. Scattered across the table were three samples she and Kevin had narrowed it down to. With your thumb, while playing with a corner of the hand-drawn example closest to you, a sigh escaped your nose.
Your sister’s talent mesmerized you. Each storyboard showed the intricate detail of the flowers and candles themselves and what the tables would look like next to each other with every centerpiece. You were in awe.
“These are so good, Robbie! They must have taken forever to put together,” you said, admiring a different sample on the table.
“Nah,” she replied, brushing the compliment aside. “Just an afternoon’s time last week.”
“Well, shit. I hope they’re paying you the big bucks at work.”
She quirked an eyebrow devilishly as she reached for her drink. “You know it,” she jested before taking a sip.
You laughed at her cheekiness. Robyn had always been a go-getter. One of the many attributes you loved about her. Never took no for an answer.
“Soooo,” she drawled as she set her glass down. “How have you been?”
You looked up swiftly, eyeing her suspiciously before returning your gaze to the storyboard in your hands. “I’m still alive if that’s what you’re asking.” You set the drawing down to take a drink from your glass. “Haven’t been murdered yet, but the night is still young.”
Robyn rolled her eyes at your petulance. “You know I worry about you. Are you still texting James?”
You smiled sweetly. “Each day that goes by, you act more and more like Mom. You know that?”
Robyn scoffed. “I do not!”
She could deny it all she wanted, but Robyn was turning into the spitting image of your mother. You laughed again. “You do too. Even down to the eye roll.”
She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for you to answer her question.
Two could play this game.
You wiped the corner of your mouth with your napkin unhurriedly. “If you must know, yes, James and I are still texting.”
“Has he sent any dick pics or asked for nudes?” Robyn asked earnestly.
“Yup. We engage in wildly pornographic phone sex every night.”
Robyn glanced around the restaurant with eyes wide as saucers, making sure none of the other patrons heard you. “(Y/N), I’m serious! Has he propositioned you?”
You huffed a small laugh. “Nope,” you admitted. “In fact, he’s the one that wants to take things slow. He accidentally called me the other day and hung up from jitters.” Robyn didn’t need to know the full truth.
“The jitters?” Robyn queried.
“Yeah. I even called him back, but he let it go to voicemail.”
“Then, he must be weird or ugly.”
You grimaced at her assumption. “Ew, Robbie. Don’t be gross,” you chastised. “He’s the opposite of ugly. I might even go as far as to call him handsome.”
“How? You don’t know what he looks like,” Robyn questioned.
You took a quick sip of your drink, holding up a finger. “Au, contraire mon frère. He sent me a selfie in the very beginning.”
Robyn looked at you, perplexed. “You know you just called me your brother, right?”
You waved a hand at her to dismiss her accusation. “Ma soeur just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” You pulled your phone out to offer proof.
“You can barely see his face!” she exclaimed. “What if he’s horribly disfigured on the other side? Or missing an arm?”
You shrugged. “Then, he’s missing an arm.” You got a distant look in your eyes as you recalled the last ten days of texting with James. “He’s different, Robbie. He’s smart and funny and caring. Polite. It feels like he has an old soul. He calls me doll for chrissakes!”
“Are you sure he isn’t some crusty, old man?” Robyn gagged at the thought.
“No, I don’t,” you chuckled in response. The faraway look returned after a moment. “To me, he’s just James.”
Realization dawned on Robyn’s face, lighting her up like a light bulb. “Oh, my god. You like him.”
“Well, yeah,” you acknowledged, “he’s my friend.”
“No. You like him like him.”
Your face reddened quickly with the awareness of your feelings. They weren’t real, were they? Shaking your head, you replied, ”Nothing will happen, Robbie. It’s just a crush.”
Skeptically, she agreed, “Uh-huh.”
“What?”
“I believe that as much as I welcome a cold sore on my wedding day.” She scrunched her nose at the thought of a gross, red blemish on her face for her big day.
“Fine,” you acquiesced. “If I fall head over heels, madly in love with James by your wedding day, I’ll owe you a hundred bucks.”
Robyn raised a sculpted brow in interest. “I’m listening.”
“One hundred dollars. End of negotiation,” you stated. “I don’t have a spare hundred bucks, so it will be a motivator not to fall for James. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”
She smiled smugly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Uh-huh.”
“Will you stop saying that?” you said, throwing a piece of lettuce at her face. “You definitely sound like Mom.”
Robyn huffed in annoyance, back-handing your shoulder softly. “Shuddup! I do not!”
You chortled heartily at the mini tantrum she was throwing about becoming Mom. You’d say anything at this point to get her to forget about you and James.
In all honesty, there was no you and James. Not really. You were friends, but could you move past that?
He was hiding something.
Something big.
And it wasn’t part of the whole “man of mystery” persona, either. James was holding back.
He had a hard time giving up anything personal to you that went beyond his likes and dislikes, which led you to believe he had found it difficult to trust.
It angered you deeply without really knowing why. Something in his past had sparked the inability. You only wish you knew what.
Deep down, you could really see yourself falling for James, and that scared you to death.
Breaking you from your reverie, Robyn piped up, “You know, James is probably jerking off to your voicemail.”
“Oh, absolutely!” you retorted, both of you dissolving into a giggling fit.
After leaving Robyn with a clear choice for centerpieces, you made your way back home. After a fifty-minute subway ride, you popped into the corner bodega for some essentials for the coming week.
Sauntering up the stairs to your third-floor walk-up, you steadied your armful of groceries with each step. It had been a long week, and now with the revelation of how you felt about James clouding your mind, a glass of wine, ice cream, and a bubble bath sounded good right about now.
You could barely see over the bags and juggled them precariously. As you stepped onto your floor, you recognized the voice of your next-door neighbor down the hall. He was talking with someone, but you couldn’t tell with whom or what about.
Blindly, you called out, “Hey, Peter? Can you be a lifesaver and help a neighbor out?” You heard the scuffle of footsteps over tile rush toward you.
Sighing in relief, you relinquished two bags to the arms reaching out. “Thanks, Pete! You’re a pe-”
You stopped mid-sentence when your view was finally cleared. Your sixteen-year-old neighbor wasn’t standing before you but a tall man with chestnut hair tied in a knot. Your lips parted slightly as your eyes widened to take in the figure’s full breadth holding your groceries.
Your eyes flicked to Peter as everything came back to focus. He was adjusting your other two bags in his arms.
“Miss (Y/L/N), this is Mr. Barnes from my Stark internship. He’s a friend. He was helping me with some history homework,” Peter explained, gesturing to the hulking man standing outside your apartment door.
“Peter,” you admonished, “how many times-” Last names weren’t meant to be spoken by friends slash neighbors.
Peter winced. “Right! Sorry, (Y/N)!” he apologized. “This is Bucky.”
Recognition crossed your face at the name. Smiling, you stuck out your hand in front of you. “Bucky Barnes, it’s nice to meet you.”
Bucky shifted one of your bags in his arms to reach out his hand. He smiled softly, “ Li-likewise.”
Chapter Three | Chapter Five
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Chapter 2: Legends Never Die
Read on Ao3
-
Billy was watching porn when Steve texted.
He’s never clicked out of a video so fucking fast in his life.
The message just read hey, this is steve :) which like, of course, the fucker uses little emoticons. Of course , he types out little smiley faces. It’s so dumb. It’s so cute.
And Billy just stared at it. One hand still on his dick, the other hovering over the keyboard.
What the fuck does he reply?
Obviously, Steve knows it’s Billy. Like. Duh.
So he just tapped out a little Hey.
Steve texted back almost immediately.
you have a good day? Billy found himself grinning maniacally, so he rolled over to hold his pillow close to his chest, burying his chin into it. He didn’t wanna deal with the fact that this stupid adorable cowboy was making him smile and flush. Stupid.
Yeah, it was nice. Way too hot, but nice.
lol try wearing jeans in that heat. sweatin through my damn saddle. Billy laughed into his pillow.
Jesus, you’re such a fuckin hick. Billy bit his tongue when he pressed send.
And Steve just sent back >:(. And God. He’s so cute. Billy. Hates him.
And then Billy’s phone buzzed twice, another brand new text from Steve.
One that made Billy’s heart fucking stop.
i have the day off tomorrow. no tiedown on the schedule. you should come by and we could hang
Which sounded like. A date. It sounded like a fucking date. And Billy wanted to ask. If Steve’s invitation was for a goddamn date.
But like, he can’t just ask. Can he? Is that weird? Okay, maybe he’ll just-
Should I bring Max?
Right? Like if Steve says to bring his little sister, then there’s no way it’s a date. Because, who would want their date to bring their little sister? People who are just hanging out as friends, that’s who.
was hoping it'd just be you and me
And hoo boy. Hoo boy. That’s. That’s a fucking. That’s a date.
Then yeah. Just you and me.
And Steve sent him another little :) because the fucker loves his emoticon smiley faces. They’re not even, like, actual emojis. Steve doesn’t take the time to use fucking apostrophes, but he does type out little faces.
And maybe Billy’s spending too much time thinking about the smiley little shits.
But, like. It’s just. It’s Steve. And it’s a cute fucking thing that Steve does.
Billy’s pretty much obsessed with him by now.
And maybe Billy should ask for, like, a time to meet. But he was halfway through a video and his cock’s still hard and kinda starting to ache, pressed against the mattress where it was. He rolled over, slid his hand back into his shorts, and wrapped his fingers around the base of himself.
So it’s easy just to, slide it up. Run his fingers along his length. Pretend his rough hand is Steve’s rough hand. Pretend the tight vice grip is Steve’s mouth. Hot and slick around him.
He could picture Steve, on his knees in the dirt, those tight fucking jeans beginning to stain at the knees, those big pretty eyes looking at him so reverently, so softly.
And he came all over his hand, pictured those pink pretty lips covered with cum. Imagined scooping it on his fingers, pressing them into Steve’s mouth, making him lick them clean.
It wasn’t even the most depraved fantasy Billy’s ever had. But it was for sure in his top five best orgasms. No doubt about it.
He wiped his hand on the sheets, turning onto his side, staring at the short little conversation with Steve.
Thinking about their fucking date tomorrow.
Max was on his ass the second he woke up.
She cornered him as he was coming out of the bathroom, making him startle and nearly smack her.
“The fuck you doing out here, Shitbrid?”
“What are we doing today?”
“ We aren’t doing shit all. I will be heading out. Soon.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, jutting her jaw in a way he absolutely knows she learned from him.
“Are you going to the rodeo?” she hissed through her teeth at him. “Are you going to see-”
“That’s none ‘a your fuckin’ business.” He pushed past her, lumbering down the hall, almost making it into his bedroom before she slipped inside with him, slapping his elbow and kicking the door closed.
“Are you going on a date ?”
Billy glared at her. He clenched his jaw, speaking through gritted teeth.
“Pretty sure we agreed not to fucking talk about this shit here.”
She pursed her lips, shifting her jaw.
“Just nod or shake your head.”
Billy kept his head very still.
She kicked him once in the shin before stomping out of his room, nearly slamming the door, catching it at the last minute, and closing it quietly.
Neil didn’t approve of doors slamming in his house.
It was rule number. Three probably. First rule was don’t be a smartass. Second rule was don’t be Billy. That was kind of an unspoken rule. But it was there.
And Billy was faced with his newest dilemma.
What does he wear?
Because it’s gonna be another hot fucking day, and his typical date outfits have more, more.
He’s got one clean pair of cut-offs left. Okay. Yes. And he puts on a printed button-up shirt. Leaves it almost all the way unbuttoned, because, like, of course, he does. He’s got a good body. He wants Steve to see it.
He’ll be mostly cool, and he looks better than he did last time he saw Steve.
Black Converse complete the look, and he maybe spends more time than he usually would putting his hair into a ponytail, using one of Max’s bright scrunchies.
She’ll get pissed if she notices it but. Whatever. He steals them from her all the fucking time.
He hasn’t looked at his phone all morning, figured he could head over to the rodeo, and whenever Steve texted, he’d play it cool and act like he wasn’t already there.
But, cowboy hick Steve was obviously an early riser. As the most recent text Billy has is from that cowboy hick Steve. At six. In the morning.
you wanna meet up around ten?
It was currently just past nine.
Does Billy head up there now and wander around the grounds for a bit?
Yes. Yes, he does. Because frankly, he looks gay as fuck in this outfit and he should probably dip before his dad sees.
He sends Steve a thumbs up and the three dots show up almost immediately, showing Steve typing.
you got a car right? can you pick me up outside of the parking lot? i gotta get outta here
And Fuck. Billy knows that feeling.
No problem. You wanna get breakfast? I know a good diner if you’re into that kinda thing.
hell yeah im into that :)
Ah, yes. There was that little happy face just in time to give Billy lots of nice heart palpitations.
Great. That’s what he needs. To get sappy and gross over Steve’s emoticons. Again.
He slipped out of his house without interference, taking a lap around the block just to kill time before setting off to the fairgrounds.
He was trying to make his car look presentable, shoving the few gum wrappers Max left by the gear shift into his pocket, brushing off any stray cigarette ash with one of the baby wipes in the glove box.
And by the time he reached the fairgrounds, he saw Steve skulking along the front of the parking lot, hopping over cracks in the sidewalk like the cutest little bunny.
It was the most adorable thing in the fucking world.
Billy pulled up next to him, blaring the horn and watching Steve startle at the sound.
He was wearing cut-off denim shorts like Billy’s, and a goddamn crop top. It had the silhouette of a horse on its hind legs, its mane flowing in the wind behind it, and Harrington American Rodeo brandished across his chest. It was cut just at his waistline, where his body nipped in right above his hips.
Steve smiled his pretty smile at Billy, just about skipping around the front of the car to slide into the passenger seat.
And Billy tried not to think about how fucking good Steve looked in the passenger seat of his car, those long fucking legs all on display, his thighs, thick and pale, covered in dark hair.
“Hi,” Steve was leaning with one elbow on the center console, putting himself in Billy’s space, and Billy was thankful for his dark aviator sunglasses, as his eyes went wide and probably panicked with Steve moving in so close.
Because if Steve was leaning in to kiss him, that kinda feels like a lot. And Billy’s not a prude, not by any means but he's, he’s got lines, and rules, and-
Steve just knocked his head into Billy’s shoulder, leaning back to buckle his seatbelt, like headbutting Billy’s shoulder was casual and normal.
And fuck.
Billy’s in so deep for this guy he barely fucking knows.
All he could do was push the car forward, and will away the flush on his cheeks. And pretend like he hadn’t jerked off to the person sitting next to him less than twelve hours ago.
“So. Billy. Tell me about yourself.” Steve shifted in his seat, turning to look right at Billy. “All I know is that you’ve got a kid sister, a cool car, and that you’re really hot.”
Billy smirked, turning to look at Steve over his glasses, found Steve biting his bottom lip demurely.
“Well, there’s not much else to know .”
“Oh, come on. Where are you from? How old are you? Shit, probably shoulda asked that sooner. Please, tell me you’re not fifteen or something.”
“I’m literally driving, right now. And relax, Pretty Boy. I’m eighteen next month.”
“Okay. Okay, good. I’m eighteen, by the way. Just so you know, that I’m not fifteen.” Billy shook his head, rolling his eyes with a smile. “But I still want answers to the other questions.”
“Well, I’m from here. Born and raised in San Diego. Uh, I graduated high school in May. And I work at the diner I’m about to take you to, which might be the lamest shit in the world, but they have good pancakes.”
“I like pancakes.” Steve was fiddling with some of the knobs in the car, turning the air conditioner up and down. Billy was just resisting slapping his hand away.
And then he reached for the volume knob on the radio, turning up the Ratt Billy had playing, and audibly scoffed.
“God, I should’ve known you liked this .”
“Yeah? What about it?”
“Just, you know. Sex charged drug-fueled hair metal.”
“Oh my God. What in the fuck ?” He gave Steve as incredulous a look as he could muster. “Are you a housewife from the fifties?”
Steve gave one of his excellent bright laughs at Billy, and Billy’s gut got a little bit gay and a little bit fluttery.
“Alright, Stevie. I’ll bite. What kinda music are you into? And if you say country I’m blowing my fuckin’ brains out.”
“Well, unfortunate then because, yeah. Fuckin’ country, man. Although, I prefer folk.”
“See, you call my music sex-charged and drug-fueled, at least I’m not listening to posers rant about their tractors.”
“Oh, no. I hate that shit as much as you do. I mean like, Johnny Cash. Willie Nelson, you know? Emmylou Harris, Marty Robbins, Miss Dolly. The good stuff. There’s like, a few modern artists that are doing the same kinda thing that I like. It’s all just stories and good music.”
“That’s all my music is. Stories set to music. And, you say my shit is drug-fueled, you do know that Willie Nelson is famous for being a stoner? And that Johnny Cash publicly dealt with addiction and all that?”
“Well, yeah, but they’ve got class.”
“Okay, Cowboy. I’ll let you die on that fuckin’ hill while I party it up on mine to some eighties metal.”
And Steve reached out to shove Billy lightly, laughing while he did it.
“Agree to fucking disagree then. Just take me to pancakes and don’t try to reason with me about shitty music.”
“Then change the subject. Tell me other things about you besides your terrible music taste.”
Steve leaned back in his seat, blowing out a puff of air.
“Uh, I mean. Jeez. I don’t do much besides the rodeo, you know? Just movin’ all over the country.”
“That must be. Exhausting.”
Steve reached out to brush his fingers against the dashboard mindlessly.
“It’s not so bad. I try to make friends in the towns, you know? Makes it kinda fun.”
“Where were you born?”
“Indiana. Really small town. My mom and I stayed there for three years while my father traveled around. I’ve been on the road since.”
“Holy shit. Since you were three? Did you, like, go to school?”
“No. Uh, I actually have a tutor that’s on the road with us, and I’m. You know. Supposed to get my high school diploma soon. I’m behind schedule since,” he waved his hand flippantly. He was staring at his lap, playing with the frayed hem of his shorts. And Billy was grasping for another subject as Steve’s cheeks went red. Because obviously school, had struck a nerve.
“What kinda horse is June?”
“She’s an American quarter horse. That’s the usual type for most rodeo events. They’re good ranch horses because they’re a little more compact. I’ve been with June for five years now, and she’s a beast. I’ve got two others with me, on rotation so that none of them get too tired doing the shows over and over. June, Patsy, and Loretta. They’re all quarter horses, and each one is only about fourteen and a half hands tall. I like my horses a bit smaller for tie-down.”
“I understood, honestly, like, nothing of what you just said.”
Steve tossed his head back, laughing loudly over the radio at Billy’s confusion.
He laughed a lot.
Billy liked it.
“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you rodeo slang. You’ll be a natural,” Steve said, reaching out to where Billy’s right hand was resting on the gearshift, wrapping his finger’s around Billy’s wrist.
“What about their names?”
“All ladies of country. Loretta Lynn, Patsy Cline, and June Carter. Carter-Cash, I guess. She married Johnny but had a career in her own right.”
“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ hick.”
“You’ve said that before. Just because I’m in the rodeo-”
“No, it’s because you’re in the rodeo, and listen to country music, and wear fucking cowboy boots -”
“They are literally made for riding horses, okay? That’s why they were invented .”
Billy rolled his eyes again, but he was smiling brightly as he pulled into the diner parking lot.
It wasn’t too busy for a Sunday morning. Billy bets it’ll pick up in an hour or so for the brunch crowd.
He began working at the diner three years ago, bussing tables and washing dishes, getting paid under the table because technically, he was too young to work. He was a server now, usually taking the evening dinner shifts to miss that time when his dad was home from work.
The bell jingled above their heads as Billy held the door open for Steve, and Billy stuck his tongue out at the kitchen staff, leaning over the counter to swipe a few menus from the stack.
He led Steve to a booth in the back corner, waving at Lorraine, the older woman who was working their section, gesturing to the booth for Steve to take a seat.
“Wow. You’ve totally got this place on lock.”
Billy grinned at him, leaning against the wall to stretch his legs up on the booth next to him.
“I’ve worked here a few years. Kinda done all the staff positions. It’s a nice place.”
“Well, then what do you recommend?” Steve carefully opened the laminated menu, his big eyes flicking over the pictures on the side of every dish.
“Pancakes are good, so are the waffles though, if you’re into that. I like the full breakfast. Eggs, bacon or sausage, hash browns, pancakes, or toast. Kinda the best of everything.”
Steve snapped his menu shut, smiling softly at Billy.
“I’m trusting you with my breakfast here. It better be good .”
Lorraine approached their table, already pouring Billy a cup of coffee and sliding it to him along the table.
“You really love us that much you find your way in here on your day off?”
“Only you, Lorraine. Everybody else can fuck off for all I care.”
She shook her head, rolling her eyes at Billy.
“You want the usual cook-up?”
“Yes, please.”
She took his unopened menu, turning and smiling brightly at Steve.
“What can I get for you, Darling.”
Steve’s eyes were wide when he looked up at her, his cheeks starting to flush.
“Uh, just, the same as Billy, please.”
“You want a coffee?”
“No, Ma’am. Just a water for me please.” He handed his menu back, giving her a bright smile, his cheeks a soft rosy red.
Lorraine winked at Billy, nodding her head once in Steve’s general direction. Billy waved her off before she could say something embarrassing.
“Sorry, I get kinda weird sometimes.” Steve had pulled a napkin out of the dispenser on their table and was looking down at it, tearing off little chunks and rolling them into balls.
“That’s okay. Lorraine gets it. Plus, you were polite, and that’s all that matters. I wouldn’t be caught dead with you if you were an ass to servers.”
“Oh, God. My dad is such an ass when it comes to, really any staff. Like, servers, or, frankly, most of the people that work for him. Don’t even get me started on the animal carers. I mean, that’s probably the most important job at the whole rodeo, and he’s been trying to dock pay left, right, and fucking center.” Steve rolled his big eyes, huffing like Max.
“Wait, so your dad is like, the head of the whole operation?”
“My name is Steve Harrington,” and Steve pointed at his shirt, the name Harrington emblazoned over the horse.
“Oh damn. I thought that name was familiar when I saw the shirt. Figured I had just seen the rodeo name or something.”
“Nope. That’s me. A whole Harrington. My great-grandpa started the rodeo. He was, like, an actual ranch hand. Started one in the town we’re from. My grandpa was the one who got the idea to take it on the road. My dad came up through it like I did. He was in steer roping. And basically, his end goal is that I start running the whole show in a few years. Take over for him.”
“And, you don’t want to?”
“Nah. I don’t really have a brain for business. Don’t have a brain for much other than riding and tie-down, honestly. Don’t know the first thing about how to run a traveling rodeo.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
Steve smiled at him, but his eyes seemed sad, and his smile was tight.
“You got plans for next year? College or anything?”
“Nah. I think college is, on the horizon, but I’m taking a gap year. Saving up to move out and pay for school and everything. Probably gonna go to community college to save some money. And then maybe grad school?”
“That’s smart, you know? Finding ways to save up. My dad is debating pushing college on me. Like, if I do run the business, there’s some shit I should know going into it, right? But I think he also sees that I’m way too dumb for college, and, like, I don’t need a degree to get hired. I’ll just,” Steve made an upwards sweeping gesture with his right hand. A gesture that Billy understood to vaguely mean nepotism.
“What would you rather do? If not run the thing.”
“I like tie-down, and I could feasibly do it for a long time. I could branch into other events, too, like steer roping and all that. Same idea as calf roping but a different animal. Literally. It’s a steer. But I’d be content just doing the events until I croak. I have absolutely no desire to rise through the ranks, or whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes, balling up the little napkin wads he had made into another napkin from the dispenser. Billy appreciated it. He’s had to clean up crap like that from this very floor. “I just love being around the rodeo. The animals and all the people. I don’t really wanna be anywhere else.”
“At least you have something you love. Like, you’d be happy to do that for the rest of your life, and not in an I’ve got nothing better to do way, but in an, I’m passionate about this way. A lot of people don’t really. Get that.” Billy included.
It’s not that he doesn’t have passions, it’s just that they’re not necessarily sustainable to him.
He knows he’s dangling by a thread with his father. Knows after his eighteenth birthday, he should be ready to be kicked out or asked to pay rent at any time. He needs a career that’ll get him some fucking money if he wants to get out and cut off his dad entirely. He can’t be forced to go crawling back to him because he wanted to self-publish his gay ass poetry that never took off or drum in a rock band that went nowhere.
To name a few.
“Yeah, I mean. Sometimes I think that I probably would’ve never set foot in a rodeo if I wasn’t literally born into one, so I kinda wonder who I’d be if this wasn’t everything I knew, but I still really love doing it, and it’s something that I’m actually good at, which speaks volumes.”
They were interrupted by Lorraine returning, placing two identical plates in front of them, a glass of water for Steve, and pulling hot sauce and ketchup out of her apron pocket.
“You two let me know if you need anything else.”
Steve beamed at her, thanking her softly and Billy’s heart fluttered like a stupid idiot.
They tucked in, Steve shoving food into his mouth until his cheeks were bulging, chewing aggressively. It made Billy laugh and nearly spew coffee all over the table.
“I figured you’d have better manners, being the heir to a rodeo dynasty or whatever.”
Steve pulled a face, showing Billy the chewed-up food in his mouth.
“How’s that for manners?”
It was actually fucking funny watching him try to swallow everything stuffed in his mouth.
“It’s borderline painful watching you eat.”
Billy laughed as Steve flicked a piece of scrambled egg at him. It landed on his shoulder. Billy slurped it right off his shirt.
“See! Now, who's the one with no table manners?”
“Still you, Sugar. Still you.”
Breakfast was, like, actually fun.
Not that Billy was expecting it to be shitty, but he wasn’t expecting it to be as carefree, as easy, as it was. He and Steve just, kinda, clicked.
Steve was easy to talk to. He was easy to listen to, easy to laugh with, and even easier to look at.
He’s kinda, everything Billy has ever wanted in a person.
He slid his hand into Billy’s as they were leaving the diner, smiling shyly at Billy when he looked over at him.
And Billy stopped in his tracks, right there in broad daylight, tugging Steve by his hand closer to Billy’s body, sliding his hands up his arms, feeling over Steve’s shoulders, and down his back to settle on his hips. Steve wrapped both arms around Billy’s shoulders, leaning closer to him, almost pressing his whole body against Billy’s.
And it was easy. Kissing Steve was just as easy as talking to him, as laughing with him, as looking at him. It was simple and nice and made Billy feel something he really didn’t want to put too much thought into.
Something that was decidedly not easy.
They pulled away from one another, both their lips red and slick.
Billy opened the passenger door, and Steve folded himself into the seat with a ridiculous amount of grace.
And as Billy drove them aimlessly through the city, he tried not to think of the expiration date on this whole thing, on the dates listed on the back of Steve’s t-shirt.
They’ve got a little under a month together.
And Billy was determined to make that the best goddamn month of both of their natural lives.
#yikes writes#show pony#rodeo au#lemons#i got hit with a fat wall of Sad and decided to post ch 2 to see if i get a lil serotonin from the response#we will SEE#harringrove#steve harrington#billy hargrove
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Love is a Beautiful Thing - Ethan x F!MC
Authors Note: HI! I’m back (finally) with another prompt ask fic! I know it’s taken too long for this to happen but my laptop battery decided to shit itself and I needed to send it away to get it fixed and now it’s back and here it is! lol. I’m sorry for my mediocre writing with this one but I hope you enjoy, anyway! I apologise for any spelling, grammar and punctuation mistakes. Prompt is in bold.
AO3 WORK
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC [Nicolette Valentine]
Word Count: 2, 075 (who allows me to write? Oh, me... damnit.)
Prompt: “Not only am I deeply in love with you, you’re my best friend.”
Rating: G
Warnings: Fluff and Ethan and Nic being cute.
Tag list at the bottom of this post.
Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Pixelberry and all characters belong to them.
***
LOVE IS A BEAUTIFUL THING
Ethan knew the exact moment that he fell in love with Nicolette. It was on a Sunday, their first weekend off in two months and Nicolette was staying over, her hair up in a messy bun, red hair slipping out of its hold and framing her face in the most delicate way that made her more ethereal when the sun shone on her hair, making it glow like a warm fire.
He knew he was in love when she smiles, her cheeks and all of her smattered with freckles that Ethan found himself tracing with his fingers at night, following them like a map as they trailed from her nose, down her cheeks to the lower parts of her chest and shoulders and Ethan marvels each time he gets to see them, touch them...kiss them.
His chest warms with love when she comes home from grocery shopping in an oversized Columbia University jumper that she got at a conference in her second year of medical school, her Adidas stretch leggings that hugged her legs in the most enticing and her long hair a mess around her shoulders, not caring about her appearance in the slightest. It reiterates how comfortable she was with him. This is Nicolette in her purest form and a smile lifts his lips at the thought that Nicolette, the most gentle, kind-hearted and compassionate woman was able to be herself with him in whatever capacity.
Ethan knew he was in love when he finds Nicolette on his couch, tears tracking down her face and a pile of tissues surrounding her, her eyes glued to the television. One glance at the TV and Ethan realises it’s a Disney movie. He should be amazed and somewhat turned off by the fact that a twenty-eight-year-old cries at a Disney movie but in this particular case, a fond smile raises his lips at the sight even when his heart drops at seeing her crying. He never likes to see her cry. He always admires Nicolette when she doesn’t hide behind a facade of what she should be. If she wants to watch a movie from her childhood then she is going to watch it, if she cries then she’ll do it. She is real. She is her authentic self and Ethan has never been more in love.
Ethan’s in love when he finds Nicolette, sitting in front of his laptop, researching a case they’ve been trying to diagnose one night, her glasses perched on her face, her nose scrunched up in concentration, the light of the screen emphasising the bags under those beautiful blue eyes. She doesn’t know he’s there, himself tucked behind an alcove out of sight. So now, he just watches her do her thing, sift through notes, type on the keyboard. A silent chuckle escapes him when he sees her tongue poking out of her lips, a sure sign that she was in the deepest trance of her concentration. Nicolette pushes back some of the hair that had fallen in her face and Ethan’s fingers twitch to do the same but he forces himself to resist and stay put. He’s more than content just to watch her.
It’s then that he really knows it. He could watch her do that for the rest of his life if he wanted to and he’d never get sick of it. Pure happiness and joy settle around him like a warm blanket on a cold night and he sighs at the euphoric feeling. He loves Nicolette and he’ll love her for the rest of his days on this earth.
“I know you’re there, Ethan so you can come out of your creepy hideaway and come sit with me. I need your brain for a minute.”
Ethan jolts out of his own trance (or perhaps he should say his Nicolette trance) and pads over to the couch, laughing as he does so.
“‘You need my brain’? That’s a creative and articulate way of saying you need me.”
Nicolette glances over to him, giving him a flat look before she smiles and shrugs at his words. “It’s true though, I need you for your brain and nothing else right now.”
Ethan chuckles, his hand coming up to wrap around the back of her neck as he begins gently kneading it, finding a cord of tension there. Nicolette melts into his touch but her eyes are still focused on the notes in front of her.
“What a shame. I would have been happy to oblige in whatever else you needed from me.”
Nicolette scoffs. “Please, Ethan. Maybe go grab some water for yourself because I am sure as hell ain’t thirsty right now. I’m researching this case and I need to study for my boards.”
Ethan ignores the implication of those words (he did know what it meant, he wasn’t a complete tragic) and focuses on what Nicolette was viewing.
“Practice exam questions for IMCs?”
Nicolette signs, removing her glasses to rub at her eyes. She had been staring at the laptop screen for too long and they were starting to hurt. She sighs as she puts her glasses back on and turns to her boyfriend. “Yes, they are. It’s the third time I’m going to study it today. Can you please help me through them? I need a sounding board right now. I’m sick and tired of hearing the voice inside my head read questions back at me.”
Ethan’s eyebrows furrow in concern at the lethargy he can hear in her voice and the small droop of her shoulders. He doesn’t want her to burn out but he figures that she’ll continue anyway. She’s as stubborn as him.
“Okay, I’ll help. What do you need?”
Nicolette claps and sits back from him, pulling her knees up underneath her and turns so that she’s face to face with him. “Run through some practice questions with me and then we can get some takeaway and watch a trashy movie or something.”
Ethan chuckles, a fond smile lighting up his face. He finds where Nicolette was up to and begins reciting the question. “Okay. Here we go… A 23-year-old woman with bone marrow failure is treated with a large dose of rabbit anti-thymocyte globulin. Ten days later, she develops fever, lymphadenopathy, arthralgias, and erythema on her hands and feet. Which of the following is the most likely cause of these symptoms?”
Ethan already knew the answer but he allows Nicolette the time to answer herself. He sees the clocks working in her mind and her eyes light up as she finds the answer. “Is it immune complex deposition in tissues?”
Ethan flips back to the practice test answers and he gives a nod and an answering smile at her when he finds that she was correct. He would have told her yes straight away but he knew Nicolette enough that she would have appreciated that he goes to the answered section to make sure that she’s correct.
“Yes, you’re right! Good work!”
Nicolette cheers with a resounding ‘yay’ as she claps her hands, her face alight with relief. Ethan grins at her enthusiasm because he knows how much succeeding at this means to her. So, it’s there, in the middle of Ethan’s living room, the sun already on its decline where Ethan and Nicolette sit and work through each question of her board exam practice test.
It's a few hours after that, the inky black night piercing the living room, both of them leaning up against the couch with Ethan chuckling at a particular answer that Nicolette got wrong (and a particularly hard one at that, he wasn’t going to lie) that he realises he’s having the time of his life. It’s these little moments that set his heart aflame, that bring him a sense of contentment. Rightness.
Ethan can’t fathom a time where he wasn’t having fun with Nicolette and he is so glad that he is in a position to be here with her. She is his closest confidant, a person with whom he can be himself, his best self, opinions, objections and all. A warm smile lifts the corners of his mouth and he says the next words with an air of reverence, of truth and certainty for they were the truest words to ever leave his lips.
Ethan grabs her hand, his face serious for a moment and Nicolette stops and stares at the utter warmth of his eyes, the blue of them liquid cyan and the admiration on his face makes her breath hitch in her throat.
“You are amazing, Nicolette. You make every day brighter and I can’t honestly imagine walking through life without you. I can honestly, without any reservation, say that not only am I deeply in love with you, you’re my best friend.”
Nicolette is frozen, her mouth popped open in evident shock but Ethan sees the effect his words have had on her. Her crystal blue eyes shine like diamonds as tears well up in them and he resists the urge to pull her to him. He needs to say this otherwise he was going to burst.
“I realise it’s not the best time but I just had to say it. I needed to otherwise—”
Nicolette cuts him off with a kiss, the kiss so strong that he loses his balance against the suddenness of it and falls backwards, both of them sprawled on the plush area rug.
Nicolette breaks the kiss after a while and just looks at him, her fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. Her eyes are shiny and tears are slowly making their way down her cheeks as she whispers, her forehead coming to rest upon his gently, her lips mere inches away from his.
“I can’t study for my boards now since you’ve said that so we’re going to get takeaway. Call for Chinese and I’ll put on a movie.”
There is a pang in his chest as he hears her words and he can’t help but be disappointed. A part of him was hoping for reciprocation or at least something remotely related to his words. And yet, Nicolette’s mind is different from his, no less fantastically intelligent but different and he realises that she processes things differently from him. Whether it takes her a few seconds, minutes or days, it won’t matter to him. He would wait for her forever.
He nods, trying to not let the disappointment show on his face and plucks his phone out of his pocket and press speed dial to call his favourite Chinese restaurant just down the main street, a few metres from his condo.
He’s just staring out at the horizon, his eyes scanning the twinkling skyline of Boston when he freezes as he feels Nicolette behind him hugging him, her head on his back and her arms tight around his torso. He shivers when he feels Nicolette kiss his shoulder, her face buried into him, almost like she wanted to melt into him completely.
“I love you too, Ethan. I know I don’t say it enough but you’re my best friend and I thank the stars every day that we met.” She squeezes him once more before letting go. “Oh, and don’t forget the Kung pao chicken.”
Ethan grins and his heart flies out of his chest. God, he loves this woman so much.
“I would never forget the Kung pao chicken, Nicolette.”
Nicolette turns to him and gives him a soft smile, her eyes shining with deep affection. “Good. I knew I loved you for a reason.”
“Oh? Is that the only reason?”
Nicolette smirks as she makes her way to the cabinet next to the stove where they kept the wine, her eyes alight with mischief as she gives Ethan a wink.
“A woman never reveals her secrets, Ethan.”
Ethan laughs, the sound light and happy, a smile on his lips as he orders them dinner. Love is a beautiful thing, Ethan thinks, and he again berates himself for resisting this wonderful feeling for so long. He marvels silently as he stares out at the Boston skyline again, the sounds of domesticity surround him as Nicolette gets ready for dinner and he’s never felt so safe, so calm...so at ease.
Ethan lets out a sigh of contentment. Love is beautiful and if he could have a beautiful life with Nicolette? Well, then... he can call himself the luckiest man on earth.
***
OH TAG LIST: @senseofduties @polishchoicesfan @princess-geek @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @binny1985 @fanficnewbie @x-kyne-x @thecordoniandiaries @rainbowsinthestorm @jens-diamondchoices @hopelessly-shipper @my-heart-beats-for-ya @landofenchantedwonder @flyawayboo @stanathanxoox @oofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @heauxplesslydevoted @trappedinfandoms @perriewinklenerdie @riverrune @caseyvalentineramsey @nithya @kaavyaethanramsey @whippedforethanfreakingramsey @theeccentricbiblophile @maurine07 @openheartthot @takemyopenheart @queencarb @drariellevalentine @drakewalkerfantasy @pixelberrychoicesaddict-blog @starrystarrytrouble @buzz-bee-buzz @anything-but-reality @doilooklikeiknow @mvalentine @jamespotterthefirst @anntoldst0ries @nishas-paradise @tenaciousdeputydreamfriend @choicesaddict5 @fireycookie @thegreentwin
#open heart#open heart fanfiction#open heart fanfic#ethan ramsey#ethan x mc#choices fanfiction#choices fanfic#choices fandom#playchoices#mc x ethan ramsey#mc x ethan
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Restart | END | Avengers x Male! Reader
I am discontinuing my Restart series because I've simply lost creative juices for it. That's it, no elaborate or other reason. Anyways, I didn't want to just end it on the last chapter, and as someone who loves to overshare (especially if it's unsolicited), I thought some might like to see what drafts I had in plan, going chapter by chapter.
It goes up to Ch. 20 with additional bonus chapters, and chapters where I wasn't sure where they were going to be placed in the timeline.
If you have any comments, let me know! I'd love to read them :)
Here goes! Warning: very long, since the formatting is weird! The reader will be referred to as (Name) and "you", as in the story.
Right after Ch. 12 (Circumvention), are 2 special chapters (High Caliber Bullet) & (America's Sweethearts).
(High Caliber Bullet)'s basic plot was that Barnes, now # amount of weeks since the last chapter, has gained some freedoms and can now go out and about with either (Name) or DAHLIA for supervision (via his phone, and through the cameras everywhere).
In this particular chapter, he basically goes out for a typical grocery run with DAHLIA "accompanying" him, since before, he remembers (Name) telling him that "I won't always be there with you". But something bad happens! Wooo! (Maybe an attempted robbery, I didn't have the details sorted out yet.)
Either way, DAHLIA loses contact with him, and she tries to contact you ASAP, but it takes a little while since your dumbass was asleep the whole time! Wow! The suit had to manually power on and shake you awake.
Anyways, the only thing I had "written down" after that was that, after a failed search attempt for James, you go back home and are greeted with a surprise... "Kabedon"? Or, you're pinned to the walls by James... Or, rather, the Winter Soldier!
You're not sure what's going on, only that, "Wow, Barnes is acting weird. Why is he suddenly Russian? Wh- Okay, wow, he's suddenly gotten a lot closer. Now, wait a fuckin' minute-!"
Either way, you and James make a discovery of a second personality living inside his body- the Soldier! Or Winter, I'm still unsure which I would have gone for. If you're familiar with certain WinterIron tropes, this is one of them. Anyways, that's the end of that chapter, or what I had written so far, anyway.
This chapter is really important to the canon of Restart since it establishes Soldier, but it didn't fit into my initial plans of 10 chapters an arc, so. That's why it's a "special" chapter.
The next "special" chapter after that was (America's Sweethearts). I had written 2 "chunks" of text for this chapter. The main plot is, basically, you and Steve spent a platonic (promise!) Valentine's Day together. Hence the title. Cute, right? This was referenced in Ch. 9 (Revelation) during Future! Steve's reminiscing.
Anyways, below the next text is what I had written for that chapter. It will be in normal text.
No other thoughts on that, so let's move on.
"You live like this?"
In his defense, Steve's apartment wasn't messy in the slightest. In fact, it was the other way around- everything was too clean, too pristine, too detached. The only saving grace he's getting from standing in the middle of his apartment is the fact that compared to the chilly Brooklyn weather, it was almost obnoxiously warm in his apartment.
Not only did he have the heater going on, but he had another separate, portable heater blasting hot air in the corner.
(Sometimes, and only sometimes, Steve will stand in front of the heater and slowly spin around like a rotisserie chicken. The heat feels good, in his defense.)
The heat was something that you, thankfully, didn't comment on as you shed your jacket and slung it around the coat hanger near the door. You're wearing an over-sized tee- Thor's tee, he absentmindedly notes- and some sweats, both like and unlike the (Name) he often sees.
(It's not uncommon for Steve to glance at a newspaper or TV still shot and see you with your hair slicked back and dressed head to toe in a suit so expensive he's confident it costs at least a few years' worths of a typical New Yorker's rent.
Neither is uncommon to see you on the front cover of Men's Magazine, wearing a simple tee that shouldn't look that good on you but still does and posing confidently for the camera.
But despite all that, all of the clearly flattering outfits you could possibly wear at the tips of your fingers, often Steve will see you wear a disparagingly obnoxious, dirty shirt, and an old pair of sweats as your go-to outfit.)
(No, he will never admit that he really likes seeing you like that. Even with the mysterious smudged substance often found on the bottom of your sweats, as if you had swing danced in mud and crude oil.)
Regardless, while he often questions your private life fashion choices (and this is coming from a man who willingly wears khakis), he at least knows why you're wearing what you are, given the fact that he's also dressed in an overused tee and some joggers.
"What's wrong with my apartment? Not up to par with your penthouse standards?" Steve jests.
"Steve. Please." You threw him an unimpressed glare, much to Steve's never-ending amusement.
You glanced back to the inside of the apartment and squinted at it with what Steve could only describe as a rich man's scrutinizing gaze, before shrugging nonchalantly. You strolled into his apartment with a confidence Steve can still never get used to, one that reminds him so much of Tony's, and even Howard on his bad days.
(He understands why Tony doesn't like it when he brings Howard up, as he belatedly realizes that Howard didn't die the same man he knew him as, but he never understood why you've suddenly gotten bitter about Howard as well.)
He follows you into the hallway, and if it weren't for the fact that this was his apartment, he would've looked like a lost puppy following its new owner.
His apartment's not really that big, so it doesn't take long before you've both reached the living room. A simple TV, simple couch, simple table. Nothing really exciting in his living room, but it serves its purposes, in Steve's opinion.
(This is the end of that chunk. Next is where I picked up in writing. Short time skip, they both fall asleep and now Steve's waking up.)
It was the change in the smell that woke him up.
It's always the scent of fresh linen that greeted him early in the morning, something that's become so attuned to his everyday life. So when, instead, popcorn and sweets drifts his way, for a brief second his heart rate jumps.
'What?', his mind asks as he opens his eyes, bleary but cautious.
'Oh,' his mind responds back at him when his eyes drift down to your sleeping form laying splayed right on top of him, body glued to his side. You're mainly hogging the blanket, but he doesn't really mind as he runs hot 24/7.
'Oh', his mind repeats softly, as something deep unfurls from his stomach and rises to his throat, clenching up and unable to say anything as his eyes fixate themselves on your steady breathing. Your lips are too close to his neck, each breath too warm, even for him. His skin burns where it meets yours, and absently he thinks, 'this is nice'.
'Yeah,' he lifts his hand to brush away a strand of hair away from your eyes, 'This is nice.'
Steve blearily throws a glance at the clock on his nightstand. 4 more minutes until he'd typically wake up and start his day with a morning jog.
'No,' his body protests.
'Okay,' his mind agrees without a fight.
He carefully reaches over and presses the silence button on his alarm. Above him, a breathy exhale escapes your lips at the sudden movement, and if possible, you curl closer to him than you were before. He pauses, unsure if you're going to wake up or not, but relax when he realizes that you're still in a deep slumber.
(Another break. Next sentence was supposed to be the final sentence of the chapter.)
In the end, neither of you commented about how Steve had missed his daily morning run as his limbs were straddled in between yours.
Ch. 13 (Upheaval) and 14 (Airlocked) are short in terms of drafting, so I'll combine them into one section here. Ch. 13 (Upheaval) was about taking down SHIELDRA in a better manner than the mess that was CA:TWS. And (Name) also forces Steve and Natasha to fess up immediately about Tony's parent's murderer. ((Name) threatens them.)
As for Ch. 14 (Airlocked), it's pretty much a filler chapter of sorts. (Name) graduates, there's now an official class-action lawsuit against Ross, also now keeping an eye on Baron Zemo, and we see some progression on Barne's therapy session. Not much, but some.
I really was not looking forward to these two chapters, as I knew they were gonna be boring as hell.
Ch. 15 (Spiralling) has actual written chunks. It's basically about the early prevention of Ultron. The Avengers go to a Sokovian HYDRA base, take out baddies, and the Super Twins get captured first- wow! But not before Wanda does... something to (Name), causing you to hallucinate and lose contact with the team- uh oh!
But don't worry! You get run over by a car. Lol. Below is what I had written for it, sans minor text.
A/N: In Ch. 7 (Summer), there was a 'dream-sequence' that happened where (Name) was on Titan with Tony, Peter, Stephen, and the GOTG. I've now decided that in canon, (Name) was not on Titan- instead, you were on Earth instead during IW helping at Wakanda. Just a brief plot-hole wrap-up; let's imply that (Name) had watched video footage of the fight at Titan via Tony's suit afterward, and that's where the nightmare came from. Okay bye.
(VERY abrupt start into the story, not meant to be the start of the chapter in the final draft, just where I wanted to start writing. Intro to Wanda.)
You jerked your head, catching a glimpse of brunette hair in the corner of your eyes. You swung your gauntlet instinctively and made instant contact with whatever was next to you. Flutters of red wisps followed your eyes, and you instantly knew what just happened as a body dropped next to you.
You grunted and leaned onto the nearest wall, watching the girl's limp body with caution. Your shoulder plate lifted, and a tranquilizing dart connected to her thigh.
Just in case.
"Guys, I- I've been- ugh..." You wanted to vomit, the pounding in your head worsening with each millisecond that passes. Already, your surroundings distort you with each blink, walls melting and the floor sinking in on itself. "I've been- com-," you swallowed back your bile, "-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..."
You didn't even have enough time to hear a response before the whole world around you shifted. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm your thundering heartbeat. The pounding got worse as the armor around you dissipated into nothing but the under-suit you were wearing. Before, where there were the shouting and gunshots, is now replaced with an eerie silence filled with just your laborious breathing.
You didn't know the full extent of what visions you were about to see, but you needed to remember that none of this is real. Scientifically, that was your only safe haven from possibly losing your mind for what's about to come. And it was worse because you had no idea what visions you'd see. Would you see Thanos? The Chitauri, just like your father once had? Or would it be something more close to home; the bunker? Tony's dead body, splayed with vomit around him, frostbitten to the touch and still like a marbled statue?
Ready to go up and arms at whatever it was you're about to see, you cautiously opened your eyes.
(Line break, there's meant to be an "oh shit" line, like "Only, you were met with eyes far too similar to yours." but I still didn't know what I wanted to do for the hallucination sequence. Maybe meeting an older you, a younger you, or your dream life without the Avengers or meta-humans.)
(Below is an abrupt shift in the story; same general setting, but outside POV! What I had was dialogue only, alternating between people in bold, as a POV switch.)
(Name) "Guys, I- I've been- ugh... I've been- com-compromised... Sending- location... Ergh..."
(Steve) "Apex, do you copy? (Name)!"
(Steve) "Shit, (Name) isn't answering! Tony!"
(Tony) "Got his location, he's inside the base. J.A.R.V.I.S., what's his status?"
(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I'm sorry, Sir, but it appears that I am not in contact with his suit."
(Tony) "Wha- the hell do you mean you're not in contact?!"
(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I cannot connect to his suit; it appears that Young Sir has somehow deprogrammed me from his suit."
(Tony) "Wha-!"
(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "However, it seems as if there is an A.I. present nonetheless. Though..."
(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "I do not recognize the code. Would you like me to attempt at forming a mode of communication?"
(Tony) "Yeah, just- God, make sure (Name)'s okay, please."
(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "On it."
(J.A.R.V.I.S.) "Establishing a connection."
(DAHLIA) "Mister Stark?"
(Tony) "Wha- I'm sorry- who are you?"
(DAHLIA), ignoring Tony, "An enhanced got to (Name). The operative is down, but (Name)'s experiencing hallucinations. I can't get through to him- you need to get to him, now. I fear he may hurt himself more than he already has."
(DAHLIA) "And if I may be privy to a request?"
(Tony) "What?"
(DAHLIA) "Don't bring Rogers." (I don't remember why I wrote this bit.)
(Steve) "Any updates on (Name)?"
(Tony) "Yep, and by the looks of it," there was a loud boom coming from the base, and as Tony looked up to see an all too familiar suit fly out of the building. Or, rather, flying was an interesting way to put it- it was more of a free-falling more than anything else.
(Steve) "What was that?"
(Tony) "That was (Name), and he's not havin' a great time I'll tell you that."
His voice was light and joking, but he'd be lying if he didn't say that his heart wasn't in his throat by the sight of you flying out of the building and falling back into the forests.
(Line break, another POV switch)
Steve sprinted towards the loud boom, movements quick and calculated, but mind racing a thousand miles an hour. He saw a red and gold glint fly up above him, zipping in and out between trees gracefully.
(Line break, but no switch, same place. Another story POV shift, sort of. Steve makes contact with (Name), or so he thinks.)
"(Name)? Hey, do you copy?"
The suit was eerily silent, glowing eyes that once gave comfort to the soldier now bringing nothing but an awful, gripping dread; one that he'd get when there were Nazi soldiers nearby, but he couldn't tell where even with his enhanced senses. The suit gave away nothing that usually screamed out everything that was you- no head swaying, no restless and constantly shifting feet, only a stillness that looked so unnatural. Almost as if there was no one in there.
"(Name)?"
There was no response from you.
The hairs on Steve's neck stood up, everything in his system suddenly screaming to get out of there, run, leave, get away from the suit, but he ignored it as he took a cautious step forward.
Again, you didn't seem to react.
Then, the suit took a step forward.
Then another one.
And another one.
"(Name)-"
Before he could say anything more, the suit lunged forward. Only for a moment could Steve react, but even he wasn't as fast as you could be when you're in the suit. He raised his shield, ready to be shot at, but only the sound of harsh metal on metal makes it to his ears. By the sounds of it, it sounded like Tony had managed to land a direct hit on you, from wherever position he was at. Cautiously, Steve lowers his shield to look.
But instead of the familiar red and gold suit of armor greeting him, it's the sight of two (color) suits wrestling on the ground with each other that manages to sucker-punch all air from his lungs.
(Basically, you went bat shit insane and got out of the older suit, then prematurely activating the nano suit instead, in a fit of panicked hallucination. The older suit, now operating by DAHLIA, was trying to protect Steve from being ambushed by (Name), and now they're wrestling.)
(Another big break, but I think I had a hallucination sequence from (Name)'s POV planned here. Not sure what I was gonna do here since I planned this like, maybe in 2018, early 2019. It's... 2021 now...)
"-(Name)!"
Your eyes widened as the world around you suddenly shifts out of existence, and instead, you're outside in the dim, snowy alps once again. Someone called out to you, you don't know who, but there's a light in the corner of your eyes that's so goddamn bright. You turn your head in the direction of the light, and amidst all of the yelling and gunshots, DAHLIA's cool, chilling voice rings the loudest in your ear.
"Aborting protoc-"
And then the world turned black.
Ch. 16 (Enflamed) also has written text. Basically, you're recovering from being caught slipping by a car, the team is now aware of certain secrets you've been keeping behind their backs, and you realize that you have to get back to Barnes to let him know you're okay.
This chapter was meant to be focused on the twins, but I guess I forgot that as I was "writing" it. Basically, the gist was that their parent's deaths weren't by officially licensed Stark tech (maybe even a counterfeit since Stark weapons are the best, and don't malfunction as it did in WandaVision ep. 8). Maybe HYDRA was the one that did it in order to recruit more people. Or something like that. Basically, Tony wasn't the one who authorized those weapons to be sold and used there, but it was Stane. Either way, they get their own healthy moment to mourn and lament over it all.
Here's the text below. Italics for a dream sequence, since you were unconscious/ in a coma from being bOnked on by a car.
"Hey, sweetheart."
You smile, turning around to face the voice only to be greeted with lips on yours. You chuckle, amused that this was the first thing you'd be greeted with, but lean into the kiss anyways as you wrapped your fingers around their cheek.
They pull back first, but their eyes are warm as they smile, lingering in the space between the two of you. Where their hands laid on your hips, your skin burned bright hot, but you paid no mind to it.
(There's supposed to be more, maybe foreshadowing, but I stopped here in terms of the dream sequence. Jump cut to another POV, but you're waking up!)
(Name) "Hnng..."
(Steve) "Stay down! You're in no condition to move at all, just- just rest, okay? The doctors- and- your dad are coming."
(Steve) "How're you feeling? You want some water?"
You tried to turn your head to look at the blonde but hissed suddenly.
(Name) "S'nnof'a' b'ch..." (Son of a bitch.)
Steve helped you settle back onto your pillow- which even he'll admit doesn't look like the most comfortable setting in the world.
"Language, (Name)..."
He reprimanded, but there's no heat in his words as he's just so thankful that you're even capable of forming any words, no matter how profane they may be.
Beside him, Clint laughs a bit too loud for comfort. Steve wants to tell him to be quiet, as he's sure you're sensitive to noise right now, but God he can't blame the archer for his overwhelming relief.
Lord knows Clint wasn't the only one to stress over their youngest Avenger.
"First words after a damn coma, and it's 'son of a bitch'! I told you he's a fighter!"
"Of course he is, he's a Stark after all."
All eyes turn to see the billionaire and assassin walk into the room. They look clean and pristine as always, but by the slight sheen of sweat on both of them, Steve knew they rushed here as soon as word spread that you were awake.
(Natasha) "Tooting your own horn a little much there?"
Natasha's smile betrays her words as she looks fondly from the senior Stark to the junior. Even the ironclad wall she has up 24/7 has a soft spot for the team's junior member.
(Especially for the junior member, but you didn't hear that from Steve.)
(Tony) "It's both of our horns, excuse you."
Tony turns his attention to you and places a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"You sure took a hit back there, champ."
"Mmm... 'm feel like a... Nn... A damn Make A W'sh kid...", (Mm, am feeling like a damn Make A Wish kid...) your eyes, though blown out from still being drugged up, wandered across each Avenger. You frowned, then smirked- well, as best as you could, anyways.
"Where's th' Hul'k? T'or?" (Where's the Hulk? Thor? (As a joke, since usually the whole gang visits, but they're missing))
"Relax junior, you're not that special. We can only afford so many Avengers to visit you."
Despite his harsh words, Tony places a kiss right on your forehead. Your eyes flutter closed, lashes delicately batting as Tony leans away.
(Big block of nothing, there were supposed to be more text here, more dialogue or something. Same setting!)
(Tony) "So. We need to talk about what happened back there. Y'know. The brand-smackin' new A.I. that's in your suit- she's been awfully quiet. Oh, and the- lord, the thing's a work of art- the- what is it? Nanite suit? That's in a collar- a collar? I mean, I'm not one to judge questionable fashion statements, but-"
(Steve, or someone else) "Tony."
(Tony) "Right- but, we are going to talk about all that, okay?"
"L'ter, ple's? Am tir'd..." (Later, please? Am tired.)
"An' b'sides, chok'r's fun..." (And besides, chokers are fun.)
(Line break, basically, you remember you have a certain Winter Soldier that's been sitting at home without any word from you.)
’Oh fuck.’
(Big line break, basically, you get discharged from the hospital, and now you visit the safehouse Barnes is in to check up on him.)
It was eerily quiet when you opened the door to the safe house. You limped into the door, thankful that the ride on the way back, there were no paparazzi to see you leave at all. (Really, Happy should get a raise.) Lord knows how much of a rile that'll get out of the news media.
'Avengers' Golden Boy: Fatally Injured?' or something dumb like that.
You'd love to roll your eyes, but the tension that's coiling up in your gut surpasses the want as you slowly step into the house. It's warm, more so than the slow brewing chill that's been tempering outside. James never liked the cold, but even so, the house was warmer than you remembered. His shoes are still near the doorway, in the exact place that you remembered it to be, so he definitely hasn't gone anywhere.
(Though, the alerts that were on your phone from DAHLIA definitely show that he wanted to.)
For a brief moment, you were concerned that there wasn't enough food; but even then, DAHLIA would still be up, so she could place an online order to refill the fridge at a moment's notice, so it's not like James (even with his super-soldiered appetite) would starve himself here.
You quietly slipped out of your shoes, slowly as to not incur another cramp in your back, and stepped into the hallway barefooted. You glance into each room you pass by, but not a single sign of the soldier was anywhere to be found.
You stopped when you stood in front of one specific lounge room; yours and James' favorite lounge room.
Lurking into the room, you glanced around.
The room looked exactly like how it did days before when you were still conscious. There are a few mugs strewn about. Most empty, conjoined in one area of the table (James' area), but there's one that's filled with your favorite drink. A drink that you don't remember making for yourself.
And it's placed right in front of your favorite chair, too. Something squeezes at your heartstrings as you couldn't help but smile fondly.
It's gone cold, you absently note as you dip a finger into it. Wiping your finger on your pants, you grabbed it and the rest of the empty cups, making a note to place them into the dishwasher when you make it into the kitchen.
"James?"
You called out, but only your voice echoed back. The cups quietly rattled with each step, and it's not long before you make it into the kitchen. It, too, looks the same, but there's a thin layer of dust only a clean freak would notice. The sink is empty and clear of any beads of water. Unused for a little bit, you concluded.
Yeesh.
You placed all of the cups into the dishwasher, which was also dry and empty as well. Sighing, you turned on the machine and jumped out of your skin when you felt a pair of built arms wrap themselves around you tightly.
It only takes a split second for you to realize that, no, this is not some ax murderer that's about to choke the life out of you, it's just James.
James who, apparently, is holding you flush against his chest, fingers curling themselves against your bandaged abdomen. You held back a wince of pain, careful not to make your breathing waver, as James nuzzle his whole head against the crook of your neck.
(Honestly, for someone named the Winter Soldier, he sure is warm because whew, boy-)
"Ja-"
"I thought you were gone."
His name is caught in your throat as James' voice- gritty, deep, unused- rumbles into your skin. You freeze, unsure of what to say to that as you shuddered, suddenly breathless as he mouths at your neck. Your ears turn bright red as he takes that moment to speak up, not once letting up on his fingers ghosting a trail on each muscle on your abdomen.
"You were gone. One second you were in my arms, and the next... The next, DAHLIA's tellin' me you're in a damn coma."
You winced, not sure how to respond to both what he said or the growl that accompanied it. You looked up at the camera that was in a nearby corner and threw it a withering glance, feeling slightly betrayed by DAHLIA for telling James that.
Thankfully (or probably not), James isn't really looking for a response as he continues on.
"Моя звездная пыль (My stardust)," Russian slips out, bringing a chill up your spine as bits of Winter spills out from James' fingertips, "The witch got to you, didn't she?"
Goosebumps raised on your skin, and to your silence, James snarled. You can barely feel his teeth graze on your nape, and you really don't know if you should feel embarrassed or something else.
And wow, okay, maybe you should tell James to ease up on the "hug", because holy shit, his grip's getting tighter and it's starting to actually hurt.
(Ah, he might tear the stitches.)
"HYDRA сукa...! Я убью ее...!" (HYDRA bitch...! I'll kill her...!)
You huffed, still red in the face as he hasn't even nudged away from letting you go. You patted his forearm, signaling for him to loosen up his grip, and to his credit, he does. Barely, but it was still something.
"I dunno what ya' just said in Russian, but I know what Hydra сукa means. No cussing in Russian, only in English."
He mumbles something incoherent into your shoulder, rubbing circles into your stomach with a tantalizingly slow speed. You coughed; in literally any other situation this would be one of the hottest things you've ever experienced, but considering that James was more Winter than James right now, and your stomach is literally burning in pain from the rubbing, you opted to ignore the fact that you really liked that James was this close and spoke up.
"Not to alarm you or anything, but uh, if you keep rubbing my stomach like that," your breath hitched, the pain starting to become a little too much, "I'm gonna pass out from the pain," you said, with clenched teeth.
(End of what I had written down. Anyways, not sure where I was gonna go from here.)
Ch. 17-20 are relatively short in terms of what I had written down.
Ch. 17 (Reconditioning) has 3 things typed down:
integrating the twins, thoughts of integrating bucky
supreme distrust between you and the twins
meanwhile maybe thoughts from twins abt you? you're around their age
3rd bullet introduces the idea that they might be love interests. Maybe. Shrugs. That chapter would be heavier on the character developments of the twins, both as their own persons and their relationship with you, specifically. They don't like you because you're Tony's son, still some bitter feelings there, and you don't like them because... Well... there's just a lot of bad feelings. They helped kill J.A.R.V.I.S. in your original timeline. Wanda basically fucked off with Vision. She antagonized Tony. (And there is a hypocrisy there since I would've written you to have done the same thing there. (Name) isn't perfect.)
You just didn't get along with Pietro since, back when he wasn't dead, you were immature and not yet accustomed to dealing with people who're purposefully frustrating/ teasing/ mocking/ etc. Nothing really personal with him, it's Wanda that you had beef with. But you'll get over it one day.
Ch. 18 (Longstanding) is shorter.
you and james have a talk, and after a year or two being solitary, you agree that he should be in the avengers
he joins the avengers
That's it, that's the chapter.
Ch. 19 (Accountability) deals with newer Accords (not a Sokovian one! Just from the proposed need for accountability).
It goes better around this time, as basically all of the Avengers agree to it, with their own caveats of course. Steve especially, but of course, he's willing to work with the governments about it this time around. Also, Peter Parker gets introduced, in accordance with the "underaged enhanced/ superheroes" clause, or some bull like that.
Ch. 20 (Wakanda) is basically the intro to CA:CW but like, civilized. No bombing since Zemo still has his family. Introduces Wakanda, and T'Challa as a potential love interest. If you're interested in IronPanther, I highly recommend reading the IronPanther Collection by Okyverlo on AO3. It's great and got me a lot of interest in T'Challa as a love interest.
As for official chapters with the plot, that's about it. I wasn't sure what to do afterward.
There were some loose ideas I had about what would happen to (Name). Maybe the truth is revealed, that you're actually from the future, and Dr. Strange separates past and future you into two separate bodies. Future! you into your original future body, and past! you into the current body. Past! you still have the same memories and thoughts that future! you had, but with less angst. Future! you is noticeably more depressed and just a bummer. Lol.
And after that, 2023! you would go back to the future where you belonged, and Past! you would stay in the present since, duh, that's still Past! you's original timeline. It's a little confusing when I type it down haha.
I was thinking maybe 2023! you would pair up with Steve since you realized how burdensome it is to continue to resent someone. Now you understood what Tony meant.
And Past! you would definitely pair up with James, but maybe Steve too. A nice lil' polygamous relationship.
Now here's the other, non-official chapters.
2 What If's, and 3 Specials, in the order they're listed at the moment.
What If (2013 Counterpart) plays with an initial idea I had, where Past! (Name) was actually sent into the future into 2023! (Name)'s body during the prologue. Not sure where I was gonna go with this chapter, but I really wanted to mess with that possibility, and show just how immature and teenager-y Past! you were.
What If (Swapped Places) plays with the idea that you and Tony, in the original timeline, had swapped places. You were on Titan with Spiderman, Dr. Strange, and the GOTG, while Tony was on Earth with everyone else. That's all I had planned. Maybe you actually won and managed to get the gauntlet off of Thanos when you realized that Peter Quill was about to go crazy over his ex's death, and you knocked him down in time.
Special (Find My Body, Only At The Oak Tree), deals with you and your depression over the reality that you might have to relive the blip again, and aside from the Avengers, you really don't have anyone else and nothing's worth really living for at this point. I actually have a lot written for this one. Not sure if I wanted this to be canon.
Trigger warning: suicidal tendencies.
(Below is the general idea I had for the plot.)
(names) birthdays across the years so far
we see slow mental deterioration of (name) as he aches
we see as we reach closer and closer to the deadline, (name) dreads even thinking about thanos and wants to die before even looking at him, a symbol of their failure
lowkey highkey suicidal
___
The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday was in 2014.
The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday was also in 2014... Obviously.
The first time you celebrated your 17th birthday, the whole tower was flooded with people who you knew and people who you couldn't care to know. It was filled with what little was left of your friend group outside of the Avengers; it was also filled with the rich, the pompous, the irritating of New York.
You got into a yelling match with your dad that night, over something you couldn't even bother to remember, and stormed off into your room, fuming as the party still went on without their birthday boy present.
(It's always like that as if you're replaceable. Surely, you must be; the Avengers can and will, if need be, exist without you.)
The second time you celebrated your 17th birthday, you told your dad you wanted it to be small and personal. Only the Avengers were there, as a few days ago did you spend a pre-birthday celebration with some of your high school 'friends' (which only mainly consisted of playing Smash Bros Brawl in your room and eating an ungodly amount of junk food as you fake laughed along with their shitty jokes.) (Steve promptly made you burn those calories off in training.).
(What Steve doesn't know is that you purposefully ate that much to train with him; otherwise, you had the whole day off the next day.
You didn't want to be alone.)
It was sweet as everyone gave their gifts to you (which you already knew what it was, but said nothing of it), and as everyone got drunk off of the expensive liquor or Asgardian mead, you quietly snuck out of the building and back into the safe house where James was waiting for you.
(He waits, but how much of it is because he has no other choice?
It is not like that, you keep reminding yourself.
Who is to say, other than you?
James never says anything of it, and you start to wonder if he feels as if he has no choice.
As if he feels like he's been made another prisoner, once again.
At what point, what is separating the distinction between you and HYDRA, in his mind?
You're not too keen on finding out the answer anytime soon.)
The whole way there, you thought of nothing in particular.
You quietly celebrated with him too, shared a few slices of cake he made just for you before you quietly said goodnight to him. He kissed you on the cheek, said a simple goodnight, and slipped away into his own bedroom.
Meanwhile, you spent the rest of the night drinking too much alcohol, alone, in the dark of your room, staring at nothing in particular, thinking about nothing in particular.
The next morning, you jokingly wished you had just died last night as you're bent over the toilet emptying your stomach contents.
___
The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you spent it outside in another country with your friends.
The second time you celebrated your 18th birthday party, you rented out a bumper kart arena with the Avengers.
The first time you celebrated your 18th birthday, you tried desperately to hang onto the remaining friends you had outside of the Avengers, a chance to feel normal for once. You practically went hiking across Europe and into Asia over the week of your birthday, and by God did you visit so many places. From the Louvre to the casinos in New Deli, you trekked everywhere with your friends and acted as a cash pig for their endeavors under the guise of celebrating your birthday. Least to say, you always got 'accidentally' blackout drunk on multiple occasions, oblivious to their actions.
Later you found out and cut them off instantly without another word. They didn't seem to notice that you stopped talking to them.
It hurt.
Pointless of you to try to maintain that friendship.
So on your next 18th birthday, having long forgone those friendships ages ago, you suggested going bumper karting with the Avengers. Bruce operated as the 'coach' of sorts, but he seemed to have enjoyed it as well.
It was fun, obviously.
It went on for a few hours, as you all had made up mini-games to play along with as they got bored of chasing after each other aimlessly for half an hour. A few games had you pairing up with some of the Avengers; the other had them actually using their skills to try to maim each other.
(Wanda at one point lifted everyone into the air as Pietro zoomed through the rink; though, he did slip and slam into the wall. Everyone laughed, but it was interrupted as Wanda promptly dropped everyone out of shock.
Everyone was too busy in their own shock as well to notice your labored breathes, wild crazed eyes, or how you clawed viciously at your throat at the sight of Wanda's red wisps. Your fingers were tinted a sick vermilion.
Thankfully, the arena was relatively dim, so no one could tell what just happened.)
It was fun. Everyone didn't hold their shoves back, and when things riled up, it turned into who would break a bone first. No one did, but everyone was definitely sore afterward. Of course, the enhanced ones didn't limp as much, but it made your limp nothing out of the ordinary.
(You tried your most damn not to just collapse completely, both exhaustion and pain threatening to snap your spine into little bits and pieces.
You jokingly wished it did.)
Thankfully, during the whole ordeal, no one noticed how you didn't avoid obvious hits, instead opting to just get harshly jostled in your kart and neck snapped haphazardly to the side at the sudden jolt. Or how you 'accidentally' keep forgetting to put on your seat belt or keep your fingers inside the kart.
Or at least, if they noticed, no one said anything as you limped around the tower the next day, bruises marred everywhere on your skin, a sheen of sweat blanketed on your skin throughout the whole day.
___
The first time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you were too swamped with both college and SI to actually... Celebrate.
You didn't even realize it was your birthday. No one did, actually; it took one of your professors to comment on how your name was trending on Twitter to actually get you to realize what the day was.
But even that didn't change your schedule, and as you moved on with your day, so did Twitter and the Avengers.
You never got to celebrate your 19th birthday, too swamped with other things to care.
The second time you celebrated your 19th birthday, you had too much free time in the world.
It ended up being just like your 17th. The Avengers had a little get-together (they remembered this time; what made it so different?) and all of them got drunk wildly off their asses. Once again, you slipped away from the main lounge, and stalked silently, blank-faced, towards a balcony.
You adjusted your collar appropriately and stood there. You stared outside into the bustling busy streets of New York, the city that never sleeps.
(Strange, that it's named that when often times it's the quietest whenever you're there to see it.)
You spend maybe 10 minutes standing there, staring into the oblivion that is New York.
And then, you climbed onto the railings.
Standing there, there was no rush of adrenaline that coursed its way through your veins, nor was there any fear or dread.
Only an overwhelming and crippling exhaustion that made waves through your body. No longer are you in your 19-year-old body, but your 27th. No longer are you in your younger, former self; one that shone brightly above the others, aspiring as both a heroic figure and one that would help pave the way towards a better, peaceful world.
No, instead, your soul feels like it's settled deep into your bones, an aching tire that keeps rocking and rattling at your already fractured, beaten down body, laughing at how pathetic you look.
(You're so tired.
You just wanted to live normally.
You never can, you eventually come to realize on your first 24th birthday.
That thought, now fully realized, would come to permeate it's way deep into your bones.)
All you wanted to do was to just take one step forward, off of the railing that you're so delicately balanced upon, and dive into air headfirst.
Really, all it takes is just one step.
And truly, you've never felt more at peace as your body dropped from the railings, descended quickly towards the streets below you.
What should've been a quick few seconds of a dive felt like an eternity drowning in a bottomless pool. The lights of New York flashed and beamed at you, but it changed rapidly from one to another. Your throat closes, shuttering, and you want so desperately to start screaming.
Only, no one would hear them.
The winds would carry away your screams, rushing a sound of its own that would overpower yours.
You wonder, absently, was this similar to what Rhodey felt that day?
Well.
You'd never really find out, now, will you?
Too late to ask.
(There's no way to get back home.
You can never see Morgan again- the Morgan that called you her big Care Bear, the Morgan that cried and threw a temper tantrum because you forgot to give her a goodnight kiss.
You can never see mom and dad again- while they're still here, it's just not the same. You'll never get to see the same Pepper who was so relieved just to see you alive after the Battle of Wakanda, even if you were practically on your death bed. You'll never get to see the same Tony who you spent hours crying into the shoulder of after the Blip.
You can never see the same Steve, Natasha, Rhodey, anyone, ever again.
Years spent just trying to be better, to help the world, to mend and build any relationships you could, gone.
And even if they weren't?
There's just no way to get back home anymore. Not back to the person you used to be.)
The next day, you got an earful from your parents when photos of your falling body appear all over the internet. All the meanwhile, you're not really listening to them, just staring right back at them.
Odd.
('When did you start looking at me with contempt?', you'd ask one day.
Tony just stares at you, then out the window. In his hand, he's holding a cup of coffee; in yours, water. You've since stopped drinking anything remotely sugary, caffeinated, or alcoholic, though you've never told anyone why.
'When did you start mistaking concern with contempt.', he responded, though it was more of a statement rather than a question.
You stared at him, then followed his gaze out the window.
Neither of you says anything, even as the hours go by in the blink of an eye.)
(That's all I had written down so far. Not sure where I wanted to go with this afterwards.)
Special (Vapidity, Testament To Absence) deals with future DAHLIA realizing what it means to mourn someone.
The house is empty.
It is an irrelevant thought, DAHLIA notes.
Technically speaking, the house has been empty quite often than not; after all, you were a busy man with an equally busy schedule. Being the CEO of SI and a huge contributing factor to the world's rebuilding made it more or less impossible for you to stay at home for long. Though, she also doesn't linger long in the house, either. But she's still there regardless, even if she's also with you on the other side of the planet for diplomatic reasons.
She knows of the emptiness inside this house; it was never an unfamiliar concept.
But with this emptiness, she's never once associated loneliness with it either.
It's a bit better when Virginia occasionally comes around to the house to do some maintenance. She might even bring along little Morgan with her.
("You keep saying she's a pest, but I know I sure as hell ain't the one that keeps shifting the TV to the kids' channels when she's around," you comment, not even taking your eyes off of the pan. DAHLIA says nothing towards your accusations, instead opting to tell you that you're burning your eggs.
You aren't, but she says nothing amidst your panic.)
A few others occasionally visit, too, much to DAHLIA's internal disapproval.
Rogers used to visit every day ever since she first noted the emptiness. His behavior was also peculiar. He'd prowl around the house, pausing here and there at random parts of the house. He'd often just... Stand there, seemingly looking at nothing for a long period, before jolting back and continue what he was doing. She's thankful that he hasn't noted her silence when he's around.
Often Banner would come along too, and he'd be talking quietly with Rogers. As of recently, they've stopped visiting though. Probably because of the recent news (that (Name) might still be alive, just lost in time), DAHLIA almost bitterly notes.
James ("Just call him Rhodey- literally no one calls him James nowadays." you laugh, eyes crinkling with amusement) visits too. He doesn't linger for long, but he makes sure to check up on DAHLIA, help tend to the flowers... She'd even dare say she wishes he'd visit more often.
Peter also visits here and there as well. He often comes with Morgan and Virginia, but there have been a few occasions where he's come here by himself. He'd spend most of his time in the garden, your favorite place. And when he's alone, she'd given him privacy out of respect, but even at a long distance, she can hear him talking by himself. He'd come back eyes red and swollen, but he's always smiling afterward.
A few others have visited too, but not as often as the others. Though, none of that really helps negate the emptiness she feels as she wordlessly navigates through a routine she devoted herself to after your disappearance.
And the final chapter, Special (Chemically Compromised) is basically a fluff filler with (Name) chaperoning Peter's field trip, inspired by an Instagram post.
Written in bits and pieces, unfinished. Not sure if I wanted it to be romantic (the name implies it in a nerdy way) or just a fun, platonic, "dude you're literally embarrassing me" way.
(Peter) "I can't believe you're doing this...!"
(Name) "What? What's wrong with this?"
Pan to (Name) dressing like he's a Typical, Normal Civilian Man, but it's clearly (Name) Stark, son of Tony Stark, and an Avenger.
(Peter) "I don't need you to chaperone my field trip...! May could've done this-"
(Name) "No, she really couldn't, sweetheart. She's got a busy shift, and even told me that no one else's parents was free."
(Name) "Listen- this really could have gone worse if, say, Tony, knew. God knows Tony would've dropped everythin' and just embarrass ya- he did that shit to me every chance he got," Peter winces, almost forgetting that Tony was still your dad, and a chill ran up his spine as he imagined what it would have been like for you.
(Peter) "But still..."
(Name) "Don't worry, I'll just wear a cap and sunglasses."
(Peter) "That can't possibly work."
(Name) "You'd be surprised- Sam's standin' down there, right near that phone booth."
Peter's head snapped over to where you were pointing at, and indeed, right on the floors of the Manhattan streets, there was a relatively built black guy that's wearing a cap, sunglasses, and a brown leather jacket. Peter tilted his head.
He hasn't been around Sam all that much, but he still knows what the Avenger looked like. But even then, he wasn't sure if that man was actually Sam. He's built right, but Peter can't see much of his hair or eyes. Plus, he's kind of far away.
He squinted at the man, before glancing back at you, now unsure of himself.
(Peter) "That's really the Falcon?"
You stared at him, before snorting.
(Name) "Nah, I'm joshin' ya, that's just some random guy...", you glance at the man, sniffing, "... Probably."
That's... pretty much it. That's all I had for Restart, as far as writing goes.
Now here are some closing thoughts, just to wrap all of this up nice and tight, sort of.
I'm not really happy with how the initial chapters were paced and how they were written. My writing style has mildly changed, and if I had the motivation to, I'd love to rewrite them. But alas, I don't.
I think about this story often; or at least, variations of it. It's like when you daydream, and you restart it but to the left. But unfortunately, writing a plot without too many plot holes while remaining as canonically correct as possible, and making it interesting without being a complete word-by-word remake of the movies, is difficult.
I'm not sure if I would ever pick up this story again, especially since this whole chapter told you what I had in store anyways.
Thank you to those who took the time out of their day to write nice and encouraging comments about this story. It's unfortunate it had to end this way, but I'm glad it happened anyways. And hopefully, it's the same for you.
And remember: the one thing writers love to do is talk about their story! If you have any other comments, questions, or just general thoughts about the story, I'd love to discuss it further!
Anyways. If you're reading this now, thanks for sticking with Restart for as long as you did.
_____
Masterlist
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I know I had people on the tagged list, but it’s a bit hard to get them all as URL’s change, so I opted not to. Sorry!
#male reader#avengers x male reader#steve rogers x male reader#bucky barnes x male reader#avengers#reader insert#avengers x reader#restart
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𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: daddy!kun, daddy kink, car sex, semi-public, teasing, spanking, super light face slapping, oral [male receiving], hair pulling, unprotected sex, dirty talk, kinda brat taming, finger sucking and some praising
"the bikini is sticking to me, daddy." you complained as your body squirmed on your seat, your hand trying to helplessly pull on your bikini bottoms through your shorts. but that didn't prevent you from noticing how kun's cheeks blushed into a pretty shade of pink at the nickname you used. you would never get tired of seeing his reaction at the name he liked so much.
"i told you to dry yourself before putting your clothes on. you didn't listen to me." he replied, giving you a quick glance before returning his attention to the road, his fingers gripping the steering wheel of the old white renault r4 that he had rented for the vacation.
"you didn't give me time to dry up." you kept squirming, your fingers digging inside your shorts but it didn't matter how much you tried, the wet fabric clinged onto all of the wrong places.
"you were the one that decided to go to the water one more time when it was already time to leave. don't blame your stubbornness on me." kun defended himself, one of his hands leaving the wheel to grab your arm, pulling you to sit straight. "and stop moving, the car is sensitive."
you shot him an annoyed glanced, one of your sandy feet on top of the seat, while your arm wrapped around your knee to steady yourself. "well, it was your idea to rent this piece of rusty metal."
"hey!" you almost jumped in your seat at his sudden raise of voice, his finger pointing at you. "this is a great car, ok? don't insult it just because you're angry at your bikini."
"jesus. fine grandpa." you rolled your eyes and pushed his hand away. kun glanced between you and the road as you took your seat belt off, standing up and letting your body slide over to the backseat.
"what are you doin- auu!" your foot accidentally smacked the side of his head as you struggled to pull your body over the front seats and you couldn't help but laugh, the car swerving a little as kun smacked your ass in return. "you're gonna make us crash." he complained as you were able to finally sit yourself on the backseat.
"i'll give you a better reason to crash." you smirked as you positioned yourself on your knees on top of the seat, pulling your shirt and bikini top up, exposing your breasts to him through the rearview mirror and giggling as you saw his eyes widen, his arm reaching back to grab you but you flinched away from his touch, pulling your shirt down again and letting your body fall back into the seat, laughing out loud.
"are you crazy? you're gonna flash the other cars." maybe he thought you didn't notice, but you could clearly see the little smirk forming on his lips and you knew he was trying his best not to laugh too.
"what cars? i haven't seen any cars since you turned into this road." you pulled your bag into your lap, your hands wandering inside in search of some dry clothes to change into.
"it's a lot faster this way." he explained himself, his focus being put solely on the road now.
"whatever you say, grandpa." you knew how much he hated that name but you still insisted in teasing him with it, even if you knew it never ended up well for you.
"stop that. you know i don't like when you call me that." he glanced at you through the mirror, giving you a warning a look and you placed both of your hands on the seats in front of you, pulling your body up and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, catching him by surprise.
"sorry daddy." you whispered in his ear before stepping back and sitting back down, leaving him to squirm in his seat, knowing exactly the effect that word had on him.
he cleared his throat before speaking. "what are you doing back there anyway?" you finally pulled some of your clothes out of the bag, laying them down next to you before settling yourself on your knees again.
"just going to change clothes." you simply said while pulling your shirt over your head, smirking as you watched kun glance at you through the rearview mirror, trying to peek at just a little bit of skin you exposed. the fresh breeze that came through the open windows felt like heaven against your warm skin, fanning some of the strands of your hair back and refreshing you from the burning summer day. you teasingly reached around your body to pull at the bikini strings, slowly pulling on them and feeling the fabric loosen up around your breasts.
"i know what you're doing. stop that." he warned you but he was too lost in your body to stop staring back at you, letting the car swerve from time to time, because seeing you naked seemed a lot more important to him than driving safely.
"stop what, daddy? i'm just changing." you used the most innocent voice you could, knowing how much that riled him up and pulling the bikini top over your head, letting it fall to the ground, tilting your head cutely to the side as you saw his eyes lingering on your body.
"you know you're not just changing. stop being a brat." you loved how helpless he looked, having to keep his hands on the wheel and not being able to keep his total focus on you. you loved teasing him like this and you knew exactly what the outcome was gonna be. you undid the bottom on your jean shorts, pulling them down your legs and feeling the rough material painfully rub over the sunburn you had gotten on your thigh, trying not to make a big deal out of it since you already had to hear kun nagging you for not applying enough sunscreen.
"what's wrong, daddy?" you pouted at him as your fingers grabbed the strings that secured your bikini bottom together. one little pull and you would be completely exposed to him.
"don't make me fucking stop this car." you almost giggled at how desperate he was getting. you knew he never swore unless he was starting to lose control and you watched as his eyes started to turn dark, gazing back at you, which both intimidated and excited you.
you bit your lip and smirked at him before pulling on the strings, the material immediately falling down and you almost lost your balance at how quickly kun pulled over on the side of the desert road. you quickly moved your body to the other corner of the car, scrunching your body into a ball and letting out a small scream, giggles falling from between your lips as kun opened the car door, stepping out to open the backseat one. you tried to get away and flinch from his touch but failed as his hand grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him.
"i'm sorry, daddy! i'm sorry, i'm sorry." you pleaded while trying to contain the giggles that threatened to leave your mouth, feeling a hard smack being placed over your exposed ass. you whined and tried to turn around to look at him, but his hands secured you in place, smacking your ass again. "i said i was sorry, daddy." you whined again, trying to soften him up but you knew that once you misbehaved there was no turning back.
"now you're sorry? you didn't hear me telling you to stop?" his voice was stern, his body still standing outside of the car and he finally let you turn around. you took the opportunity to lay down on your back, your body completely naked in front of him, the sunlight making your skin shine brighter.
"i thought you would enjoy seeing me naked." you murmured as your foot started making its way up his leg, his hand immediately grabbing your ankle.
"i do enjoy it but only when i'm able to touch you. don't play nice now, you knew you were teasing me and i couldn't do anything about it." he pushed your foot away, his body standing tall in front of you and you loved how vulnerable you felt. "plus you did it while i was driving. that's dangerous." you chuckled at his scolding to which kun didn't seem too amused with.
"it's not my fault that you're a pervert and can't look away, daddy." the smirk that you once had on your lips quickly disappeared as you felt kun's hand harshly slapping over the red sunburnt skin of your thigh, a loud whine escaping your lips as your eyes scrunched up.
"keep going, baby. keep making things worse for yourself." you opened your eyes slowly, looking up at him as your lips formed a small pout. his fingers wrapped around your chin and he lowered his body so his face was closer to yours, his eyes burning into you. "what's wrong, princess? don't feel like making any more smart remarks? hm? don't have anything clever to say now?" you frowned your eyebrows together, clearly upset that you had lost to him but you still had one more thing you could use to your advantage. you started raising your leg slowly, your knee brushing over his crotch and he let go of a soft groan before pressing his hand down on your leg to stop your movements. "and i'm the pervert?" he raised an eyebrow at you and you were quick to grab his face and pull him closer to you. but just as your lips were about to meet, he pulled away from you, chuckling at the way you whined at him.
"you think you can be a little brat and i'm just gonna give you what you want?" he tsked at you and shook his head as if disappointed by your way of thinking. "it's like you don't know me. move over." he suddenly said and you quickly sat up, scooting over to the side and letting him sit next to you, his hand pulling the door shut, his back resting against it as he fixed his gaze on you. you simply stared back him, both your hands between your legs as you waited for his next words.
"you're so quiet, princess. you're not so brave when i'm sitting right in front of you, are you?" he smirked as he watched you squirm in your seat. you would never admit it but he was right and for some reason that was even more arousing to you, how intimidated he made you feel. "what are you waiting for? hm?" you looked up at him again, your eyes sparkling at him. "if you're not gonna use that pretty mouth of yours to speak then you might as well use it for something else." the temperature inside the car was starting to rise and you were pretty sure it wasn't just from the strong heat of the sun but also from how your body was burning for him, your eyes following his hand that rested on top of his crotch, his fingers fondling with his cock over his shorts. "why are you acting so surprised? wasn't this what you wanted? daddy's cock?" you bit on your bottom lip at the sound of his words, starting to feel your juices dripping out of you from the anticipation of having him inside your mouth. "come here, princess. feel how hard you made me." his fingers wrapped around your wrist, bringing your hand forward and placing it over his boner. you could feel how hard and warm his cock was, twitching under your touch. your fingers went as far as to wrap over the waistband of his shorts, ready to pull them down but his hand stopped you from doing so.
"who gave you permission? hm?" you felt his hand placing a light tap on your cheek, his thumb rubbing over the spot right after. "i didn't hear you ask for it. where's your manners?" he smirked down at you, clearly amused with the whole situation as you stared at him with doe eyes, the desperation being visible in them.
"can i please have your cock, daddy?" you felt your cheeks burning up under his thumb, that slowly moved down to your bottom lip, encouraging you to part your lips.
"where do you want it?" it was his turn to bite on his own lip, watching as your tongue poked out to lick at the tip of his finger.
"in my mouth. can i please have it, daddy?" you murmured, your lips wrapping around his digit, sucking it gently into your mouth and noticing how his breath got heavy, his eyes fixated on yours. he chuckled and removed his finger from your mouth before shaking his head.
"no, you can't." his smirk was wider this time and you whined at the sound of his words, your body moving forward and your hands wrapping desperately around his neck.
"why not? please daddy." you whined and pouted but he only grabbed your arms, moving you away from him and making you seat down again.
"you're still asking why?" his eyebrow raised at you, his hand coming down to rub over his boner, painfully teasing you with what was so close to you but you couldn't have.
"but i asked nicely." you pouted, crossing your arms in front of your chest and looking the other way, your eyes staring at some random spot outside of the car window, hearing kun laughing at your reaction behind you. you suddenly felt his fingers intertwining with the locks of your hair and pulling you towards him, causing you to whine at the pain.
"come here if you want it so bad then. lay down." he commanded as you immediately complied, laying on your stomach on top of the car seat, coming face to face with his crotch, your mouth salivating at the though of finally tasting him.
your fingers quickly reached for the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down just enough to free his hard cock that slapped against his stomach. your tongue licked your lips eagerly and your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, but you received another hair pull before you could reach what you've been craving so much.
"we've talked about this already, princess. if you don't show me that you're a good girl then maybe you don't deserve daddy's cock." his hand kept your head still, watching as your body squirmed, your pretty eyes looking up at him.
"i'm sorry, daddy. can i lick it, please? i want it so bad, i'll be a good girl, i promise." your words came out more like whines but kun thought you sounded so cute begging for his cock that he could not hold it back anymore.
"there you go." you wasted no time in wrapping your lips around him, not even taking your time to tease him, you just took as much as you could in your mouth, tasting the remains of saltiness of the ocean water on his skin.
you heard kun groan as you sucked particularly harder at the tip of his cock, feeling him twitch against your tongue. you bobed your head faster on him, noticing how he would thrust his hips up slightly at you every time his cock reached deeper inside your throat. you felt his fingers pulling on your hair once again, forcing you to remove his cock from your mouth, a loud whine escaping from your lips at the lack of contact.
"come here, baby. i want to fuck that little pussy of yours." you almost lost your balance as he pulled you to his lap by your arm, his fingers tight against your skin until you were straddling his lap. you let out a chuckle, biting on your bottom lip as your arms wrapped around his shoulders.
"are you getting desperate, daddy?" you teased him with a big smirk on your lips, almost as if you were challenging him and you received a hard slap on your ass in return, making you flinch forward and whimper.
"you only said you would be a good girl so you could have my cock in your mouth, didn't you?" you chuckled and nodded your head at him. "you'll always be daddy's brat, i can't trust you." he shook his head in disapproval and you brought your body closer to him, consequently grinding on his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his warm skin against your folds. "you're lucky, princess. if i didn't want to fuck you so bad, i would just leave you here untouched." for some reason his threatening tone only made you wetter, contributing for the burning feeling inside you and you brushed your lips over his, your hand grabbing his cock and positioning the tip at your entrance, his arms wrapping tighter around your body.
"but you won't." you smirked, letting his length slide inside you, both of you moaning at the feeling of finally feeling complete. his hands slid down to your hips as you bounced on his cock, feeling him reaching a little deeper every time you sat on him, his length filling you up perfectly, causing you to moan against his lips as you pulled him in for a desperate kiss.
"daddy…" you whimpered, your movements starting to get more sloppy and slower, your breathing becoming more irregular by the second.
"yes, baby." he answered back, his head thrown back against the window glass, small groans falling from his mouth.
"i'm getting tired." you whined as you kept eagerly bouncing on him but failing miserably, your legs way too sore to keep going.
"should have thought about that before opening that bratty little mouth of yours." he smirked, watching as your eyebrows frowned and small tears formed at the corners of your eyes from the desperation of not being able to please yourself on him.
"daddy please. help me." you cried out, your face burying on the crook of his neck and he chuckled, amused with your neediness.
"sorry baby, no can do." you quickly raised your head up again, looking angrily in his eyes as he just stared back at you like he wasn't still hard inside you.
"if i don't move you won't cum either." you tilted your head to the side, giving him a playful smirk with the thought that you had already got him, but he was quick to clean that smug look off of your face, his thumb caressing over your chin.
"but you will move. because you don't want to disappoint daddy, right princess?" your smile turned into an upside down one and you almost gave in to the urge of wanting to cry out again. which you ended up doing just seconds later as he delivered a smack to your ass. "right, princess?" he repeated and you simply nodded your head, pouting as you started moving on top of him again, whimpering at the feeling of his cock sliding deliciously against your walls. "you might just be daddy's good little girl after all." he smirked before kissing your lips. even if kun didn't want to admit, he still pitied you and would only let you suffer to a certain extend, so he placed his hands over your hips, helping you bounce on him, swallowing every single moan and whimper you let out, that sounded so sweet to him and made his cock twitch inside you.
"uhmm, daddy i'm close." you whimpered against his lips and small smirk made an appearance on the corner of his lips as your fingers wrapped under the locks of his hair and you started to move more eagerly on his cock.
"wanna cum, baby? already?" he murmured while his thumb settled on top of your clit, moving him in slow circles but it was exactly what you needed to bring your orgasm forward.
"yes… please daddy." you cried out for him, feeling the intense feeling spreading all over your body, causing it to squirm on top of him, a loud moan escaping unannounced from your mouth, kun's hands gripping your hips tighter against him, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching around him.
he gave you time to come down from your orgasm, his fingers brushing some of the strands of hair that laid over your face and tucking them behind your ear, his other hand caressing your back gently.
"daddy hasn't cum yet, princess." he whispered before pressing a quick kiss to your lips. you smiled warmly at him and got up, feeling his cock slowly coming out of you. you settled yourself on your knees in front of him, trying to squeeze your body on the small space between the two seats, your lips parting slightly and your tongue poking out, doe eyes staring brightly at him. he slowly let the tip of his cock slide inside your mouth, feeling your warm and velvety tongue brush against it, groaning loudly when your lips wrapped around him, moving up and down on his length, kun's hand settling on the back of your head to incentivate you to take more of him inside your mouth. you could still taste yourself on his skin, swallowing every little remain of your own cum that you had left on his cock. he threw his head back, his eyes shutting close and his eyebrows frowning as he felt his orgasm approaching, his seed filling up your mouth at the same time as you heard sirens in the distance. you swallowed his cum quickly, cleaning your mouth with your hand and shooting a worried look at kun.
"get dressed, baby." he simply said as he tucked his cock inside his pants again, exiting the car as the sound of the sirens just got closer and closer and as you hurried to pull the random dress you found in your bag over your head, you saw the blue and red lights outside of the car's back window. you heard noise on the outside and you quickly slid your body to the front seat again, sitting down just in time before a police officer showed at your window.
"hello ma'am. is everything alright?" the officer spoke and you quickly looked to your side to see kun talking to the second policeman, your eyes turning back to the one leaning against the car next to you.
"yes. our car had a problem but i think it's solved now. we were just on our way out." you smiled warmly at him and he nodded his head, walking around the car and you saw both of them leave through the rearview mirror. the door suddenly opened and kun got in, sitting down and laughing as the police car drove away. you let out a sigh of relief and couldn't help but chuckle too.
"that was close." kun said as he started the car again, driving it back to the road and returning to the journey you two left on pause.
"you think they knew we were fucking?" you looked at him with wide eyes and a smirk on your lips and he chuckled, glancing over to you and then back to the road.
"they definitely knew we were fucking."
#nct smut#wayv smut#qian kun smut#kun smut#kun scenarios#kun imagines#wayv imagines#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#nct 127 reactions#nct 127 imagines#nct dream imagines
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Can you do something fluffy for Bechloe?
Read on AO3 here
A/N: Me? Fluff? Are you sure... Did you ask the right person to do this?
The test tube shattered before anyone could catch it. Not like their reflexes were perfect, or even adequate, but they were sharp enough to notice when the sample got too close to the edge of the counter- and cunning enough to know when it wasn’t good that glass splayed across the tile floor.
Because the truth of the matter was, they didn’t know what it was. It had been labeled by a resident the week before after a woman was wheeled into the ICU and died two days later after her symptoms reached a peak and she coded. And now… well now her blood was among the shards and the metallic scent that filled the air slowly bubbled in the room.
Beca had just taken a mouthful of sandwich and bit down hard on the mix of deli meat and mustard. She chewed slowly, meeting the eyes of the only other woman in the lab; a pediatrician from a few floors down that had been searching for a tiger topped tube.
She swallowed the bit of food on her tongue “Uh oh,”
“You shouldn’t say uh oh in medicine.” The woman glanced down at the sample that splattered the edges of her shoes. “What exactly was in that?”
The woman set down her lunch and stood from her seat before walking to the door and closing it. There was a contamination button right next to the side, and it would seal the base of the door and alert the security department to the fact that there may have been a possible quarantine situation in progress.
She pressed it and turned to face her counterpart. She had seen her in the hallways before, in passing and always found her captivating in a collective type of way. She was good with children, had to be, and had such striking eyes that were pooled with worry at this point. Beca crossed her arms over her chest.
“A blood sample from the woman they brought into the ICU a few days ago, it’s the only thing left of her.”
“Oh… the one that they couldn’t figure out in time?”
“The one that we still can’t figure out.”
Beca crossed the room and shoved the rest of her lunch into the little trashcan next to the lab table she most definitely wasn’t supposed to be eating at. Doctor Chloe Beale watched her all the while, paying most attention to the heavy sound of a deadbolt and the way the blood crept towards the drain.
She never had much trouble eating in the morgue before, and she certainly didn’t’ expect a fiery-haired peds physician to come down here rooting through the rest of the medical supplies that they shouldered off on the less desirable rooms in this place. Overcrowded, understaffed.
It was easy to stay among the dead; the rows of silver drawers and quiet tick of the sink that was broken in the corner. But now they had blood, exposed blood that she was supposed to examine for particulates because no one could figure out what had killed this woman.
“What does that mean for us?” She lifted her eyebrows, taking a tentative step from the slathered rustic color.
“Quarantine,” Beca said.
“Quarantine? I… I have to split an arm, and draw a blood sample from a two-year-old with gastrointestinal discomfort, she can’t even keep Pedialyte down and her parents are not patient.”
“A tiger on a two-year-old? Yikes. Don’t you have interns for that kind of thing?”
She scoffed and leaned against the metal counter. The wall phone started its rhythmic ring and Beca wasted no time picking it up. The security team had gotten back to them, and a dull buzz of activity started outside.
Beca was told not to touch the blood that had spilled on the floor. She was also told that it wouldn’t’ be too long before the CDC came in and checked their levels with their much fancier machines and important equipment, and quite honestly, they could have taken the sample and given the hospital a full answer before they passed it down to a coroner that had little to no knowledge on disease control.
She hung up the phone with a sigh “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”
“Hit me with both,” Doctor Beale held her hands up in surrender “I’m a big girl.”
“Bad news is, we have to stay in here until they figure out what exactly killed that woman, and if we’re also in danger of dying from said thing…” She sounded out carefully “Good news is, most of the company I have down here don’t talk back, so I have exactly three decks of cards, a stress ball, and a lot of snacks.”
“I’m a mean card shark, I have fantastic hand-eye coordination, and I can’t fathom how you eat down here.”
Beca smiled back and rooted around in the bottom drawer among the rubber bands and the paperclips, and a wrapped snack cake that had been there since before she started. One of the interns had even scrawled the date on the plastic wrapping but she couldn’t’ recall it, not with the pediatrician staring her down like this.
She pulled out the cards and gestured for the woman to pull her stool closer. There was nothing else they could do, not really unless they wanted to pull the body of Mr. Hodges from the bottom right tray and perform the county autopsy that she was putting off until the end of the day.
“It’s not that bad, I just can’t like… look at them or anything. Really the morgue is peaceful and it’s the only place in the hospital that legally has to stay at a cool temperature. So I get great air conditioning.”
“Touché. The peds floor is like a sauna this time of year, which really doesn’t’ help fussy kids. Nothing does unless it’s a popsicle or a toy… or superheroes- you know, air condition probably would be nice.”
She was rambling, flustered by either the scent of blood or being in the basement of the hospital with a strange and small doctor who held a pack of cards between her hands, dainty and steady. Beca found it cute, endearing, really.
“How do you fair at poker?” Beca asked, sparing her.
“Mm, not well. I’ve never played.”
“Cribbage?”
“No,”
“Rummy?”
“Yeah… no”
“Go fish?”
“That’s one I know,” She clapped her hands as if getting an answer right on jeopardy. “Quite good at that one, actually. Card Shark.”
Beca blew air out of her nose and had to stifle a smile. She could see why she chose the profession she did and could see even more why children liked her. Beca tended to not have the best wrap sheet with tiny humans, in fact, some would call her bad at it all together. But she still tried, and happily dealt the two of them even piles of playing cards.
They played for a few minutes, Chloe getting an accurate pile of cards because she was shockingly crushing this game. It took a bit for her to frown and set the fan of cards down on the silver-topped table. She leaned forward, onto her palms, and let out a sigh. There was an overwhelmingly comforting scent of lemon and mint that radiated from her.
“Do you have a will?” she asked.
“I don’t,” Beca frowned “Do you have any seven’s?”
She didn’t’ get an answer, just a hard glare that sent shivers down her spine so she set her own pile down and focused her full attention on the woman in front of her. It wasn’t’ that hard to do, not in the slightest. Not with the way, Chloe’s eyes shined under the lights and the ghost of a constellation moved across her dainty nose and sprawling cheeks.
“Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know I just… Even though this game of Go Fish is rousing, It has me thinking; if I died right now because of whatever is in that blood sample, I wouldn’t want my last memory to be of playing a children’s card game in a creepy basement.” She flushed then, glancing down “With a very beautiful hermit who practically lives in said small basement, but still.”
“No, I get it. Mortality is subjective and when you’re trapped in a room because said chance of survival just got cut in half… it’s not encouraging.” Beca leaned back in her chair and took in her surroundings.
“Right.” She nodded slowly “I work with children, I chose that specialty for a reason. It’s sadder when they die, but it’s rare that they do. Whereas you’re surrounded by it all day and- seriously I don’t know how you eat down here. Or how you’re staying so calm.”
“Doctor Beale,” She laughed, something soft and waning “someone down here opens up a test tube of smallpox or TB every other day down here. I have yet to draw up a will, and frankly… well frankly I don’t think we have anything to worry about.”
The phone rang again, this time it was loud enough to startle them both, neither breaking eye contact with one another until that very moment. Beca stood and pointed to the cards “Don’t you dare cheat, Doctor Beale, I have eyes on the back of my head.”
She answered and let out a stale sigh of relief because they were going to be fine, and that was something good. But she had also been right about the CDC and their ungodly speed. This was considerably better than being trapped in the room with the old man who trained her in the first place. She hung up the phone and turned to face the woman who was lifting up the edge of her cards.
“I didn’t do it,” She put both hands in the air once more. “What’d they say?”
“You’re off the hook this time. Whatever killed her has nothing to do with bloodwork, so it’s just blood. Not poison. Which means you get away with cheating this entire time at Go Fish.”
“The whole time? I didn’t cheat the whole time.”
She stood and crossed the room to where Beca was standing. She just noticed that the woman was a bit taller than her, and again that sharp scent of mint and lemon from tea coated her throat. It was better than the blood and the chemicals of the lab.
“I’ll uh, I’ll try to be down here the next time someone opens up a vile of consumption. We can have a rematch.”
“That would be nice, I’ll keep an eye on you, though. You’ve got sticky fingers.”
Doctor Beale smiled and grasped the tiger tube that she had come in to get in the first place. She slipped it into her pocket and kept her hand there before taking a small step back away from the spilled blood and the drain that it dripped into.
“I think you’re beautiful too, by the way,” Beca said as the woman reached for the door.
“What?”
“Earlier… you said I was beautiful.”
“Huh,” She smiled coyly, lilting her head to the side “Did I?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m very observant. You called me a hermit too, but I’ll let that one slide.”
#beca mitchell#chloe beale#bechloe#bechloe fic rec#pitch perfect#pitch perfect fic#bechloe fanfic#request
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