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burnedbyshoto · 4 years

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through the looking glass

“Please don’t kill me!” you begged from the floor, your hands raised, trying to get this psycho to leave you alone. “I-I-I don’t think I taste that good? I’ve tried my blood before, and it’s disgusting, true fact! Mosquitos don’t even like me that much!” “I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

— Or in which you cross paths with Shinazugawa Sanemi and nothing is ever the same again.

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pairing: shinazugawa sanemi x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, fluff, cursing, an instance of demon slaying, mirror sex, vaginal fingering, blowjob, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, cursing, praise kink, this is my first time writing for this fandom oh no

word count: 8,420

a/n: I fell asleep while editing this, good reminder to maybe not lay in a comfy blanket when trying to get shit out on time????? i love sanemi sm tho, please enjoy!

kinktober day 15 main kink: mirror sex | kinktober masterlist

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The sky was always prettier at night.

It wasn’t anything against the sky during the day! As a matter of fact, you also loved the light blue sky just at noon. You loved it wholly! You loved the way the sweet smell of crops of the earthy dewy scent traveled in the morning, and you loved how every creature in existence seemed to hum with life. The morning sky and earth were always busy.

But, you always found the deep dark blue-purple, nearly black night sky to be ethereal.

If you closed your eyes and listened closely, the nighttime, silent with white noise hanging through every quiet move of wind, felt like another world. Out near the countryside, not quite the city and not quite the farmlands, you were able to live a life where you felt safe, felt normal. You and your friends were always screaming and chasing each other through the streets following the setting sun. Your curfew hours pushed back for the night, letting you relax.

You loved to sit just at the edge of the farmed roads, right where the light from the town just disappeared into blackness. You would sit there, eyes bright, fingers pointed at the sky as you took in the irreplicable night sky. At sixteen years, you had decided to venture out on your own; your friends said that they wouldn’t be able to join you because of their own busy schedule and insisted that you don’t go on account of the few vanishing people the past few nights.

But, you were never one to pay mind to others’ opinions; your own mind set on seeing the supposed asteroid shower that night in tandem with the full blue moon was to be a sight you couldn’t miss. So, you laughed, scratching the back of your neck as you sigh.

“Fine, I won’t go,” you lied to them, and they smiled in gratefulness.

But, like the liar that you are, you found yourself rushing out of your home, your fingers clutching at your kimono as you run. The sun had already set, and if you were to make sure that you would make the sighting, you were going to need to get there now.

Eventually, you made it to that pathed dirt road, your eyes scanning the darkened sky with intense focus as you began to search for the asteroid shower you were promised. With the bright, beautiful moon in the sky, your feet stamping onto the road with your impatience and excitement, you listened to the whistling wind and chirping bugs as you waited.

Nothing abnormal or out of the ordinary.

It was tranquil, quiet, calm.

And finally, when the backdrop of the night sky served as the background to the beautiful shower of asteroids, a single sound that you’ve never heard before echoed from before you and immediately made your stomach sicken.

Someone was eating in the fields right before you, the sound of a person, maybe an animal, eating something as if it was starving. Slowly, the air filled with fickle laughter, a noise that had your heart racing as you stood up. Your attention no longer focused on the beautiful night sky, but instead, two pairs of yellow and red eyes staring at you.

“Oh? Would you look at that! Two humans already, and it's only three hours into the night!” a voice cackled, and even with the shroud of darkness brought by the hours of the night, you recognized what the not humans were eating.

It was a person.

Unable to scream due to fear, the horror burned through your veins as you tried to scramble to your feet and run away, only to find that you couldn’t even move. You began to cry instead. Fat tears welling down your cheeks as they stalked toward you at a speed you couldn’t start to believe was human or animal, and you curled into yourself, eyes unable to gaze up at the sky one last time.

“So this is where you shithead demons have been fucking hiding?!” a voice practically roared behind you, and it was then you shrieked when a burst of wind exploded over you and a man dressed in a weird black uniform with a white haori with the kanji for ‘kill’ printed on it.

What the fuck was fucking going on?!

You pinched your skin, wondering if, by chance, the gods had cursed you at the very moment and forced you to hallucinate some strange reality.

“T-That’s a Hashira,” one of the not-human humans gasped, arm tugging at his friend. “We don’t stand a chance!”

What the fuck was a Hashira?!

“Like hell, we don’t!” the other snarled in defensive anger. You managed to push yourself onto your forearms, your knees still too weak to carry your standing weight. “Look at all his scars, gotta be hanging by a damn thread. He’s not even looking at us!”

You were taken back by that statement. Why wasn’t the third lunatic looking at them?! You snapped your attention from the non-human humans to look at the white-haired man who was staring at you. Your jaw dropped in your shock and slight embarrassment at the way his scarred face took you off-guard for a moment. Why was he looking at you and not the non-human humans?!

And in horror, you watched the psycho scarred man in front of you unsheathed a katana.

A katana.

The ringing of metal loud in your ear as you scrambled to your feet, this man was genuinely insane. Who still carried such weapons in this time period?! The samurai were no longer around, and he was dressed in something that looked weaker than your own kimono!

“Ni no kata: Sousou-Shina to Kaze,” the psycho samurai man spat, and if you hadn’t already believed you weren’t hallucinating already, you definitely did now. Jagged, solid apparitions of claw marks appeared from the air as the psycho man shot forward, the glinting menace of his katana tearing through the necks of both the non-human humans with such horrifying ease. You screamed.

The terrified scream didn’t stop afterward, only seems to increase in horror when you watched the bodies crumble into smoke and ash, their voices still muttering last words, bitter and abhorrently angry at being murdered. The psycho samurai had beheaded these non-human humans at such power and strength he had destroyed their living bodies!

Was this because you hadn’t thanked your aunties for adding that one extra meat bun when you noticed after going home?! No, it had to have been for breaking that perverted boy's nose the other day, and this was the curse he placed on you. Physical violence was never the answer; you vehemently prayed to your gods as you begged for forgiveness. Please spare your pathetic life.

Your jaw dropped as you watched the psycho samurai man, with what seemed like proficient knowledge and experience, flick his blade. Blood splattered off the blade, onto the floor, disintegrating too. And well, fuck the gods.

Spinning on your heel, you ran as fast as you possibly could, your chest heaving and nerves entirely shot because if you were hallucinating this badly, you needed to get home. Maybe that candy you ate earlier today from the snot-nosed brat was some weird drug. City kids could never be trusted.

“Are you okay?” a voice gruffed by your ear, and you shrieked, seeing the psycho man seemingly appear beside you. His footsteps were silent as he so obviously ran to catch up to you, and through your frightening horror, you found yourself tripping and falling onto your ass. Staring up at the wholly scarred man in front of you.

You had initially thought it was just his face that was scarred, but no, it was obviously more. There were jagged, ugly cuts lining his pectorals, abdomen, and if you weren’t making it up, you noticed some on his arms. Every piece of exposed flesh was lined with intense scars.

“I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

“My mom says I have a thick neck! Called me an ox or something! I’m sure you don’t want to cleave off my head like you did the others?! Oh my god, am I gonna die?!” you squeaked, your fingers digging crescent shaped wounds into your arms as you began to cry. “I don’t wanna die!” you wailed, and then just the slightest bit pathetically: “I just wanted to see the asteroid shower.”

The psycho man seemed to grow irritated, his lips pulling back into a small snarl before he rolled his eyes. With tears in your eyes, you watched as the man threw his katana to the side, much too far away from him to use on you, and in the dim lights of the town behind you, you watched the shadows grow on his face as he sat down before you.

Not close enough to make you panic, but not far enough you were squinting to see him.

“My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi,” the psycho samurai man explained, and your eyes narrowed.

“That’s not a god or demon I’m aware of,” you muttered under your breath, but it seemed he heard it by the sour glare he gave you. You stilled under his weighted ton glare, your face warming as you averted your gaze.

“I’m not a god,” he spoke firmly, his arms folding underneath his chest. There was the chance he was a demon, you couldn’t help but think. “Nor am I demon.” You wilted.

“Rabid mountain boy?” you guessed, your nerves and adrenaline are still pounding way too heavy for you to filter your words.

He huffed, “No.”

“Well then—”

“Just let me explain,” he stressed, an eyebrow raised at you, and you stilled. It took a bit, but eventually, you nodded. “My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi, and I am a part of an organization called the Kisatsutai.”

Kisatsutai, the Demon Slayer Corps.

It rang an old bell in your memories, something distant, aged. Maybe a tall tale your grandparents had told you.

“It’s exactly as you think it to be,” he spoke, and you found your gaze rising to meet his. You realized even with the dull, yellowing light of the faraway lanterns, his eyes were a clouded purple. “Those two shitheads that tried to attack you are — were — demons. Yes, demons still exist,” he followed immediately as if knowing what stupid question you were going to ask next. Your mouth closed, and a chill ran down your spine knowing that non-human demon creatures that ate humans actually existed in this world. How had you been so unaware? “I’m a Hashira though, the wind Hashira to be exact. You’re living in my section of the territory I’m assigned to keep safe, so don’t worry. Demons don’t come out during the day; the sun kills them, so keep indoors at night, and you won’t have any issues.”

You remained silent, your mind twisting and turning as you tried to digest his words that seemed to rip apart your life. Sure, there was always a chance of being murdered in life; you weren’t that naive of an idiot to think so. But you never would have guessed that the potential murder you would have was a demon. It just seemed childish.

“T-That’s why they disintegrated?” you eventually babbled, your mind and consciousness entirely overloaded. “Are you some sun blooded person? How did you kill them?”

Sanemi stared at you but grunted. He rose to his feet and offered you a hand, “Top secret, can’t tell you.”

That wasn’t a good enough answer, and your mouth opened, ready to retaliate.

“I’m not trying to be a jerk,” Sanemi spoke, his hand tensing yet again in apparent effort to get you to grab it. “I’ll explain to you the bullshits of the reality of life later, but fortunately, this wasn’t the only area with demons nearby. So, unless you want me leaving you out here alone.”

A frown curled on your face, but with an unspoken level of trust, you grabbed his hand. You tried not to show how shocked and just awed you were at the calloused, entirely strong palms he had. You had no doubt in mind that he was a master swordsman, that title of Hashira seemed to be a big thing too, and the strength and power and callousness of his palm proved it.

“I’ll walk you home, pipsqueak; let’s get a move on it.”

Nodding your head quickly, you tore your hand from his and walked.

The walk was silent, and you could feel his presence lingering behind you like a hot coal in your pocket. You looked behind to see if he was still there several times, and each time he was staring straight ahead, eyes focused on something far away.

“You’ll be back tomorrow, Shinazugawa-san?” you ask as you made your way to the entrance of your home. You weren’t moving to go in, trying to figure out what he meant by explaining it all later.

“Tomorrow evening before I work,” Sanemi confirms, arms folding again.

You nod, “How old are you, Shinazugawa-san?”

He narrows his eyes but eventually rolls them, “Eighteen.”

Only two years older than you were, yet his hands felt like those of a war-veteran elder. It almost seemed like you and he grew up in entirely different worlds. You nod some more, absorbing his words and skills with better clarity as you finally begin to retreat past the gates. “Well, thank you for saving my life, Shinazugawa-san. I’ll leave—”

“You can watch it tomorrow night,” he said, face void of emotions.

You blink, “What?”

Sanemi rolls his eyes, looking entirely unimpressed. “The asteroid shower? The one you were watching or wanted to watch? Tomorrow night, another one will be happening.”

“O-Oh,” you felt warm, a smile spreading across your face as you nodded. “Thank you for letting me know!”

He nods too, a sharp inhale whistling through the air before his shoulders relax, the tension leaving his body altogether. “Well, until tomorrow evening.”

“Goodnight, Shinazugawa-san,” you politely bow. “Stay safe tonight.”

“...you too.”

And when you pull up from the bow, he’s gone.

The next evening, Sanemi shows up again. The sun is still in the sky, barely on its decline, and the summer day's warmth is slowly cooling down. As promised, Sanemi answers all of your questions, or well, tries to answer it. Some questions you have, he roughly snarks that those are stupid questions that shouldn’t ever be asked again (i.e., you asking if he was a child of the sun and that's why the demons had died, you asking if he had grown up in the woods and that’s why he was so scarred, you asking if it was only him in this supposed corps). He makes it pretty clear and unmistakable right away that all demons are evil. That he has the power to kill most demons as he is now and is continuing to train himself daily to ensure that he will one day help eradicate the strongest demon. That had turned into a slight argument on how you seriously doubted an eighteen-year-old possessed the power to murder a thousand-year-old demon who has yet to be killed despite the numbers who have tried.

But Sanemi, for all that was worth speaking of, was strangely enticing. Whenever your family or friends peeked their nosy heads in to try and hear your conversations with the psychotic looking stranger, his rather brash and abrasive tone of talking melded away into one of perfect formality and intelligence you quickly forgot he had. It was almost devious of him to have charmed your mother as soon as he did despite his rather inappropriate getup — he refused to cover up.

Faster than you would have liked, the setting sun began to turn scarlet red and royal purple against the sky, and you watched one of the nine apparent Hashira walking away, his body disappearing in the crowds of people that were moving about in the town. But, he was taller than most of them, and with that head of white hair, you watched him leave until you could no longer.

“Come back again, please, Shinazugawa-san?” you had asked right before he left, your heart hammering in your chest.

He looked at you, unsure, a million emotions flashing through his clouded eyes. Ignoring the way your family and friends were watching you through the obvious crack in the door, you looked at Sanemi, who rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll see.”

That was good enough for you.

Better yet, the asteroid shower returned that night, and as you took it in with a star dazed smile, you thanked Sanemi, wherever he was.

It seemed to become some sort of ritual for both of you.

Sanemi showing up, both of you talking in the courtyard of your home for a few minutes. Some days he showed up with enough time to eat dinner with your family, who were intrigued to know who he was. Some days your friends refused to leave your side, so Sanemi would as calmly as he could interact with them. Turns out a few of them reminded him of his own friends, and a sense of kinship formed between them all.

But as the sunset and you wished him well and luck, you always asked for him to return.

Sanemi would always respond with uncertainty. But the next day, he was there.

Some days he had more bandages on his body; some days, he looked straight up sick. There were scary days where he wouldn’t appear at all, and he’d be back in two days apologizing. He had come across a few Lower Moons and was hospitalized then had a meeting, he would explain. There were some days he’d let you grab his hand as he explained that he wouldn’t be back for a few days; there was a meeting in Headquarters, and it took a day to get to and a day to return from. Three days have gone from his usual postings, so he would have to spend an additional four days heavily working to make up for his disappearance.

“Fuckers aren’t as strong as they should be anymore,” Sanemi gruffed as you rested your head against his shoulder, his softly resting against yours. “Idiot trainers letting them take the test without their breathing techniques being strong.”

You laughed your finger, raising and pressing against his proud scar on his chest. It had been a year since you had first met him at that point, and now at seventeen, you knew he was proud of his scars, showing them off like the farmers showed off their prized crops, how senseis and masters showed off their awards.

“They can’t even fucking use the Water Breathing techniques correctly,” he spoke angrily, almost bitterly. “That’s the easiest breathing to learn! They had no fucking skill; they don’t use the breathes they should be using!”

“Mm,” you agreed, not really invested in their strengths or if the trainers were blind fucking bats, and your hand rested on his chest. His heartbeat under your fingertips, and you looked at his dark purple eyes. Despite the weird angle, his eyes were beating with the slightest bit of anger. “They sound like the worst.”

You had never known Sanemi to freeze up or startle, but you saw the way his eyes dropped to your lips, the way they drank them in, but he pulled away. His heartbeat suddenly frantic as he stood.

“It’s getting late; I gotta go if I’m going to make the town thirteen kilometers from here,” he grumbled, strapping his katana to his waist and standing up. You quietly followed after Sanemi, listening to him talk about how there was a case this morning but that the supposed demon was an actual cannibal.

As the two of you passed to the front gate, the warm smell of cracked dirt and sweet weeds filled the air. The sun was still high in the sky, just enough for your practically superpowered friend, not a friend, to make it to his suspected town just as the sunset.

He turned to you, falling quiet, obviously waiting for your typical farewell. But, you were trying something new tonight, and maybe from here on out. Sanemi watched with wide eyes as you stepped before him, your lips pressing sweetly against his battle-hardened skin, just kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Stay safe,” you grinned, pulling away, finding the pink in his cheeks and ears as a sign of victory. And as you made your way back into the doors of your home, Sanemi’s hands grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you near once again.

“I didn’t know you were a fucking Water User,” he snaps, and before you could smoothly input, you were not a Breathe user on account of your very serious childhood asthma, his lips pressed against yours, and it suddenly made sense.

The sky during the day was, for the most part, repetitive and boring. But when Sanemi pulled away from you, your lips humming with electricity and pumping blood from your excitement, the backdrop of the sky on the man who held your heart could outmatch even the asteroid shower you had seen.

“Come back again, please, Sanemi?” you slowly spoke, the smile on your face ear-splitting and pure.

“Fuck off!” Sanemi flushed bright red, and he turned on his heel and stormed away.

He listened to your bell-like laughter as he rounded the corner. Well, until he seemingly reappeared before you again, his hands pressing to your cheeks and kissing the laughter from your throat before he pulled away. His voice was gruff, and his body language screamed he was doing everything not to look away from you right now, “I’ll see.”

And it was good, so very, very good.

By the time you were eighteen, you had moved in with Sanemi.

Despite the lack of a formal proposal, how both of you agreed not to marry yet, your parents allowed you to move in with Sanemi. They knew the reason why both of you had decided not to wed and accepted it as long as Sanemi took all responsibility for what would happen to him should anything happen to you.

You still remember Sanemi showing up in the only kimono he owned. It was a bit — okay, try way — too tight against his arms and chest. His katana or usual uniform nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been expecting this to happen; the two of you had discussed this future together plentifully. But seeing him on his knees, a bow that was so low, respectful, and formal, had sent your skin simmering with blazing heat as Sanemi asked to officially court you and if he could also bring you home with him.

Tears welled in your eyes at his beautifully spoken request, and your parents, who may or may not have interrupted a handful of too many gentle, sweet, full kisses between you and Sanemi in the gardens of your home, had expected it.

That sunset, you had watched Sanemi pull his katana and uniform from underneath a tatami mat in your room, and you screeched about how he had hidden it there. He didn’t bother responding as he changed into his needed uniform, and you had politely looked away while he changed. You may or may not have caught sight of his muscled, toned, and scarred legs, though, and you may or may not have thought about it for every second after he had left.

He kissed you wholly before he left that night, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone just softly enough to make you putty in his hands.

“I’ll be back in the morning to help you move in,” he promised, and you nodded your head impatiently, your lips seeking his again.

As promised, Sanemi showed up the following morning, and with the help of the wagon your parents owned, all of your items were carefully exported to Sanemi’s home. A home that was way more than you had imagined. Your fiancé, not quite a fiancé, was always clean, he never showed up covered in dirt or blood, so while you weren’t necessarily expecting him to live in a crate at the side of the road, you were also expecting that from him.

It was a large home with a large courtyard, garden, and training spaces. Sanemi had easily carried your trunks into your (Sanemi and your’s) room, and you had hugged your parents tightly before they left. Their smiles drowned out into the bright sunlight as they went.

The adjustment to living with Sanemi wasn’t as hard as you thought it was going to be. For sure, the most challenging thing was getting your body accustomed to being awake during the night so that you could sleep with him and then spend his waking hours with him. It was perfect, blissful, and wonderful. You’d spend sundown to sunrise doing chores and doing drills with a wooden sword and dummy — Sanemi was teaching you how to handle a katana in case he wasn’t around. You’d write down lists of what you would need when he came home. Thirty minutes after sunrise, nearly without fail, Sanemi would stumble into the house, calling out his greeting.

You helped him bathe the night's blood and grime away, and with gentle hands and coaxing words, dragged him to sleep. At three in the afternoon, both of you would wake, and the day would begin with a sweet kiss good morning. Both of you would go and finish the day's errands, the vendors soon becoming familiar with your face and person. It was a great community, and everyone seemed to hold Sanemi in high regard.

But your relationship changed yet again when Sanemi slammed through the doors one day after sunrise. His eyes were wide, faint pink, already healed over scars risen on his skin as you came to the front door to see your husband, not a husband, discarding his shoes on the floor.

“What’s going on?!” you asked, partially because you were scared and partly because you were slightly exhausted and ready to drag him into bed with you. But it seemed that Sanemi had that same exact mindset, but with a whole other meaning.

The kiss he pressed on your lips was blistering hot; you arched against the intensity of his kiss, your fingers touching the dirt of his face and feeling the heat of his skin.

“I need you,” he simply stated, over and over, his words coiling and festering under your skin until you could do nothing but let out a shaking moan. Exhaustion had burned out of your bloodstream, and a gentle, building warmth sank through your loins as slowly you agreed.

I need you,” you repeat as the sliding doors close behind your shifting bodies, the both of you losing yourselves to the heat and the passions of the early morning lust.

It had been approximately a year since you and Sanemi began to indulge in your shared sexual desires. Your relationship was deep, it was full, and as everything human, had its flaws. There were mornings where he would come home and needed to sleep in a separate room, evenings when he would leave, and his words would be cold and haunting. His life up until now had been a hard one, and you were no fool to believe that your presence would make him forget that.

But in spite of it all, you were always happy when Sanemi would pull off of you, the streams of golden morning light whisping into the room, your body aching with the intensive pleasurable waves as the both of you would ease into sleep. It was perfect, you thought so, at least.

Sanemi, however, always claimed that you were a sight to be seen when he was bottomed out in you. His words were sweet in your ears as his lips brushed your skin, his praises were endless, but even when the drunken hue of the passions of the early morning faded, he swore you were a sight to be taken in at its full glory. Through every praise, every small moment where he would kiss you afterward as the smell of sex and dewy grass wafted into the room, Sanemi wanted you to see how beautiful you were when he fucked you.

You had no idea how that was to work; there was nothing that gave off a good enough reflection. But one late spring day, your eyes at the table you were using, carefully shuffling the funds Sanemi had acquired and placed them out accordingly, the front door was thrown open.

“I’m home,” Sanemi grunted from the first room in the home, and you strained your ears, not hearing the door shut behind him.

“Welcome home!” eventually came your response, your body pressing up from the floor, fingers smoothing down your purple kimono before walking to where Sanemi stood.

By the time you entered the room, Sanemi had already closed the door. But you were less focused on the time interval it took him to enter the home and more interested in the large, covered, and almost ominous rectangular object resting on the wall.

“Whatcha got there?” you asked, head tilting in your curiosity, eyes focused on the large rectangle.

“The obaa-san gave me free smoked salmon because she heard that apparently, we’re trying for a kid. She said eating salmon before having sex will guarantee a strong male heir. So I figured we could make some nigiri,” Sanemi stated, purposefully ignoring your question if the way his lips pulled into a sardonic smile had anything to say about it.

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh, your hand smacking his shoulder only for him to thread his fingers in yours and pull you in for a sweet kiss. You hummed against his soft lips, your fingers running through his hair until the entire sentence he just told you sparked back into your memory. You tugged the ends of his hair just sharp enough for him to grunt in the back of his throat. “Idiot, don’t let them think we’re trying for a kid just yet.”

Sanemi snorts, pulling away from the kiss, “Maybe you should stop talking about your cravings in public — especially with that gossiping vendor.”

“Period cravings are a thing!”

“Yah yah,” Sanemi grunted, his hand waving you off as he gathered his rectangle thing and started making his way off with it. It was enormous though, you noticed as he carried it. It was longer than both of your heights, and if you were to stand at his shoulder, it seemed like it could still be wider than the both of you. “Stop breathing down my neck, weirdo.”

“You’re the one not telling me what that is!” you complain, following Sanemi with enough distance that you weren’t stepping on his heels. “Come on, ‘nemi, tell me what it is?”

“What do you think it is?”

“I hope it isn’t Mitsuri-chan’s present from Iguro-san,” you grumbled, knowing that last Christmas, you had to keep Mitsuri’s present hidden from the lovely Love Breathe wielder. “I can’t handle him showing up in the middle of the day, demanding to see it again. Why didn’t his own home work?”

“Kanroji shows up occasionally, and he only brings her into the best rooms depending on the day,” Sanemi grunted, resting the rectangle onto the wall by your tatami mats. “He won’t confess; she’s dumber than a rock, it’s all annoying. But he’s still… a friend.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re finally admitting to being friends with your fellow Hashira!” you chirped, your arms circling his neck, your grin complete and authentic as Sanemi looked at you unimpressed, his lips in a pout, not a pout, but a pout. You had the privilege of meeting all the Hashira Christmas morning, and they were all lovely people you got along with quite well. “Now, are you and Tomi—”

“That water bastard can choke on my foot and die!” Sanemi snapped, his face fuming, eyebrows narrowing, but his warm arms remaining relaxed and warm around your waist. “I’ll kill him and his stupid ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality.”

“And you don’t get along with someone like that?” you feign surprise, utterly delighted with the way his eyes sparkled dangerously at you. And well, you didn’t ever hesitate to take a bite out of Sanemi. “Guess there’s only enough room for an ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality even in the Hashira, and if it isn’t you… oops.”

Sanemi choked, and you laughed loudly, face nuzzling into his stiff neck as he attempted to escape from your stubborn hold.

“You’re a real jerk,” Sanemi said as monotonously, allowing his much stronger body to be bent down as your lips peppered against his skin and eventually on his relaxed lips that didn’t bother returning your kisses.

“Kiss me back,” you whined, your lips pressing with a more significant, more profound fervor against his mouth.

“No.”

“I’m sorry!” you giggled with no actual apologies in your tone, enjoying the way that Sanemi’s lips slowly began to press back against yours. “Tomioka-san is obviously not the holder of the ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality title!”

“You damn brat,” Sanemi growled, his fingers pinching and pulling at your cheeks, paying no mind to your cries of mercy. “To think that I bought this for you too!”

“You haven’t even shown it to me yet!” you complain, unable to pout on account to his fingers, still pulling your cheeks apart. “You left me in the dark!”

Sanemi grunted, letting go of your cheeks, his purple eyes darkening and narrowing as he slammed a hand over your eyes and twisted you around in a swift movement. You resisted the small gasp hanging at the tip of your tongue when you felt his broad chest pressing into your back, and he moved forward, commanding you to move without a word.

“Is this when you confess you’ve been a demon this entire time and trap my soul into Hell with all your other sexy wives?”

“Would you shut up?!”

Sanemi’s hand tore away from your eyes, and even though you were ready to argue with him just to hear the flaring annoyance on his tongue, you stilled when you saw your reflection perfectly. This had to be a mirror, an invention made in the west a few years ago, and finally, it was here. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that you were smaller than Sanemi, but the mirror made that difference alarmingly apparent.

“I told you I wanted you to be able to look at yourself as I fucked you,” Sanemi whispered against your neck, breaking your attention away from its transfixion on the precise observation you finally had on yourself. “Turns out Tokyo got some imported, and I had to go get one myself.”

“Sanemi,” you whimpered, the canines of his teeth dragging against the tender flesh of your neck that was exposed from your kimono. Your eyes took in the sight of how his eyes stared at your face through the mirror's reflection, they were dark, murkier like this, and when his teeth slowly sank into your flesh, a ripple of pleasure and pain bubbling against your skin, you moaned.

“Look at yourself,” Sanemi purred, his arms circling around your waist, and you felt him slowly beginning to undo the fastenings and fabrics of your kimono. “I need you to understand just how crazy you make me feel when I touch you, when I fuck you.”

The words were hot cinders in your lower stomach, festering and twisting in its warmth as his words buzzed in your ears. Your eyes dragged over to your reflection, and you could feel the beginning steam come out of your ears at the sight of yourself. Your eyes were lidded, perfectly hooded to give off the obvious desire that was growing in your body, your lips swelling with how your teeth tore into them, stopping the small moans that went unheard, and the flush that radiated off your features and glowed in your eyes.

It was a sight that you had never expected to see, and the pure unadulterated lust radiating off your features embarrassed you. The embarrassment only seemed to grow more as the kimono slipped from your shoulder, exposing more of your tender flesh for Sanemi’s mouth and teeth to mark, and your head dipped backward at the lewd scene.

“Look at you, angel,” Sanemi smirked against your skin, his eyes glinting dangerously even though the reflection as you weakly, just barely managed to return your gaze onto your review. You looked even more wrecked as the kimono dropped to the floor, the white undergarments you wore making you look saintly in the reflection and warm light of the streaming sun. “So beautiful, so perfect, and all mine.”

Your fingers fisted into the pants of his uniform. Your knees feeling weak with the possessiveness that came with his words. Unsure as to what to do, all the embarrassment and shamelessness in the world dancing like falling leaves as you pondered what you could do. Usually, you would move with him against him. You didn’t exactly fall into a pillow princess category, but feeling the intensity of his gaze through a mirror, and the way that your body behaved exactly as he had always claimed it had, made your head spin.

You gasped loudly when his hips rutted slowly against your ass, his scarred hands continuing to undress you more, each fabric of clothing that separated your naked body from the mirror disappearing until you were completely nude. And you mewled.

“Look at yourself, angel,” Sanemi laughed against the shell of your ear, his head now against yours, keeping you from even attempting to look away. His large, rough hands glided across your much softer skinned body, watching as his fingers rolled your nipples between his fingers, massaging your tender flesh in his hands.

You saw the way your head dipped backward as you moaned, your eyes fluttering as you did so. Undoubtedly, both of you painted an erotic scene, but it was something you hadn’t ever expected to be confirmed. “You look so beautiful moaning against my touch; I wonder if you’ll like the way your face scrunches up when I fuck your pretty little pussy, or even when I touch it.”

Slight fear shot through your nerves as suddenly, Sanemi dropped to the floor, taking you with him. No pain went through your body as he made impact with the floor. You figured out why immediately, your ass was against his hard crotch, his clothed outer thighs pressing against your naked inner thighs, and you made sight with the mirror and keened at the picture of your spread slick pussy.

Sanemi shifted behind you, and although you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from how your cunt glistened in the light, you shook when you saw his bare arms, felt his bare chest against your back.

“You drive me utterly fucking insane,” Sanemi growled hotly against your ear, crotch grinding up into your ass, and you pathetically looked at your flushed face as you ground back downwards onto him in return. A slow groaned out moan resonated from his mouth, and you shivered and gasped at the noise, your cunt clenching at nothing as Sanemi positioned your arms as he wanted them to be. Clutched into his hair, absolutely revealing your naked body to the mirror, denying you no salacious angle of your body. “I want you to watch me make you feel good, angel. Don’t look away, promise?”

“I p-promise,” you stammer, the slight glint of his eye that you can still see, making your toes curl.

And he began.

Sanemi’s finger slowly traced down your knees, the heat from his flesh nearly burning as you tremble in his hold. Your instincts fight whether to look at him from the mirror or normally.

You keep your eyes onto the mirror. “Good job, you’re doing such a good job,” Sanemi voices, his fingers becoming feather-soft strokes against the inside of your legs that make you arch against his chest. a sharp inhale was what he was rewarded with as his fingers make small circles centimeters from where you crave him most. “I haven’t seen you react this intensely in so long. Is it because you’re watching your pretty face enjoy the praise?”

Unsure what to say, your head nods rapidly, your tongue falling dead in your mouth when his left-hand drags up your abdomen, scratching the underneath of your breasts until you can shake no more. “SANEMI!” you shriek, unable to take the teasing touches and watching your embarrassingly turned on face anymore. “SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING, PLEASE!”

“Aw, you cracked so fast,” he chuckles against your ear, and you melt into a euphoric victory when his thick, rough fingers plunge into your cunt.

Immediately, your hips snap up to greet him, your body shifting in quick, fast snaps as you watch your soaked cunt fuck against his fingers, desperately, greedily taking him in more and more. The sight of his fingers disappearing into your cunt through the mirror, the way your teeth tore into your lips to keep your singing praises at a minimum, and how you could feel and swear you could see the heat pounding from your body take shape through the mirror.

You had never felt this tight yet undone. Your lust hazed eyes shifting from your almost too lewd facial expressions to the way Sanemi jaw flexed with his growled endless praises, to how your cunt greedily sucked him in, further and further until the pounding of your heart couldn’t even drown out the wet, squelching of your cunt.

“Fuck!” Sanemi cursed, his hips grinding further, harder into your ass, and you keened at the massive hard length that poked into your back. “Look at you, you’re so fucking hot, angel. So needy, so fucking greedy for everything that I’m giving you.”

“I want m-more!” you sob, your body hyper-aware of how fast his curled fingers were pounding into you. You craved the way his battle-scarred fingers dragged against your puffy inner walls, hips bucking so his fingers would drag against the spongy divots, sending your mind spiraling and your jaw falling in your wordless beg for more. You understood why Sanemi craved you like this, why he insisted you needed to see the way you looked when he fucked you because as the hand that was kneading and pulling on your breasts and nipples shot down to make sure your trembling thighs didn’t smash together in your building climax. How he continued to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses against your neck, you were a perverts fantasy. “M-More ‘nemi, please give me more!” you practically wailed.

“You gonna cum around my fingers, angel?”

“I needa cum, I wanna cum!”

“I want you to cum around my fingers, look at yourself for me when you do,” Sanemi commanded, and you, in your lust-driven mindset, agreed. Your eyes were looking on your lewd face, and everything crumbled when the growing clenches of your cunt became a tight vice grip.

But the heated pressure between your legs had been festering for too long, the included visuals that sent your brain into putty had you cumming around his fingers, your hips bucking wildly, barbarically against his still conquesting fingers. “Yes, yes yesyesyeysyes, that was so good… your fingers are so good,” you babbled, your eyes crossing, unable to look at yourself anymore. The elation of the orgasm flooding your mind and muscles. But you hadn’t been fucking the man who could pound you for multiple rounds without tiring without picking up a thing or two.

Twisting around your lips that were swollen from your biting and smooth with your saliva crashed against his. Sanemi didn’t resist your kiss, his lips crashing and moving without any hesitation against yours. You moaned when his fingers left your heat, and you slipped your tongue into his mouth as you ground your ass against his still throbbing hard-on. “I want your cock still, ‘nemi. I want you to fuck me with your cock, please fuck me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay!” Sanemi snarled, and his thighs slammed shut.

You crawled off his lap, watching as the slick stained spot on his uniform glistened in the light. Frowning, not wanting to disturb him, you couldn't help but lick against the wet area, voice moaning deeply at the musky, sweet scent of your slick against the fabric.

“Y/n!” Sanemi weakly got out, his hips instinctively bucking towards your lapping tongue.

You worked with him to get his uniform off his hips, your body not waiting for him to undress entirely before your mouth enveloped his thick veiny cock. The salty pre-cum invaded your senses, your tongue lapping up the underside of his cock before your mouth took in his swollen red head. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked his cockhead, your tongue swiping and moving at his leaking slit as Sanemi cursed the heavens for you, his hands grabbing onto your head and pulling you off him right when that shivering twitch of his cock pressed to your tongue.

Gasping, you looked at Sanemi’s nearly black eyes, disappointment heavy on your features.

“‘Nemi—” you pout, but Sanemi doesn’t let you finish.

You’re back almost straddling his waist, your back flush against his chest. He holds a strong, sturdy hand against your waist, keeping your waiting, wet cunt from lowering onto his hard cock. Your feet on the mats feel weak as you try to hold your weight above him, but when his teeth sink into the back of your neck, a spot that makes your body collapse without reason, you garble a scream when his cock sheathes completely within you.

Heavy, hot pants escape both of your mouths as you’re completely seated on his cock, the nearly inhumane girth of his cock making you dizzy at the surprise entrance. But you were much, much more fascinated with the way your pretty little pussy was stretched out so wide for his cock. He was buried in you, and even though it didn’t hurt to have him in you. The reflection showed how your lips pulled and stretched to fit him in, the small bulge of his cock in you was seen, and you cried in ecstasy.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” you begged, hips long gone from obeying any command Sanemi could try to give you as you fucked yourself against his length. “God, your cock is so good, ‘nemi! You look so good filling out my pretty fucking pussy!”

That is what makes Sanemi lose it, his hands that rest on your hips tightening with a bruising grip as he begins slamming into you. The wet noises of his cock entering and exiting of your sloppy, wet cunt at an even faster speed in which you were fucking him make your nails dig into his thighs, your eyes crossing, breathes hot and heavy.

Twisting, curling pleasure thrums deep within your womb, tightening and warming with each successive thrust that sends Sanemi’s cock rubbing against your inner velvet walls. You cry his name, eyes dazed and dripping with want and need as you watch the slicked shine of his cock pounding into your without mercy.

“You’re so fucking tight like this, angel, so fucking hot. You like the way you look like when I fuck you, huh, look at how godly you appear,” he snaps, his arms hugging your hips, his thrusting becoming short, deep, fierce snaps.

You can’t look at yourself anymore, the heat of the sex and the electric pleasure that rides with every lick of his cock against your cervix, sending your hot, wet lips in search of his. Sanemi meets you halfway, open mouth moans and groans being exchanged between your open mouths as your tongues intermixed and pressed sinfully against each other. The noises that leave your wet sexes only fuel the raging fire in your cunt that has reignited to a hire flame than before.

“Cum in me,” you find yourself begging against his lips. “Please cum in me, don’t pull out, ‘nemi, please don’t pull out.”

“Fuck, fuck, you sure?” Sanemi grunted, his body heaving you both forward so that you were on your knees, and he was absolutely wrecking you from behind.

“Yes!” you affirm over and over again. your mind high off of him and how you looked in the mirror. “I want you in me, all of you in me!”

He let out a guttural whine, a sound that had you shaking beneath him and screaming when the coil in your cunt finally snapped.

Another orgasm crashed through you, and your spinning high echoed in your ears and curled your toes as you whimpered Sanemi’s name. With the sound of his hips slapping against your ass, and with his teeth burying into the nape of your neck, you felt the hot, liquid ropes burst from his cock, filling you up. The both of you remained there, panting as your sweat and slick covered bodies collapsed to the floor.

“So…” he gasped, collapsing onto the mat beside you, pulling you into his chest so that you could rest against his scarred chest. “Did you like the mirror?”

“...I guess,” you antagonize, grinning when he frowns. “It was hot; you make me look hot.”

Sanemi snorted, his lips pressing to your sweat-covered forehead.

“I don’t do shit; that’s how you are.”

You chuckled, warm grogginess settling under your skin as you merely hum in agreement.

“The Hashira meeting is tomorrow, so I’ll be gone for two days,” Sanemi murmurs, reminding you of the dreaded two days alone. It wasn’t as if you had forgotten; you never do.

“Think anything interesting will happen?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, hopefully.”

You giggle, snuggling in closer to his chest. Yeah, hopefully.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kny #kny x reader #bbs kinktober 2020

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Looking for a Place to Happen 2

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity, some violence and threats

This is dark!biker!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: Here’s chapter two. Think I’ll probably slow down writing. Appreciate y’all.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 2: I follow every little whiff

💀💀💀

You gave yourself a day off that week. Rather, the desolation of Birch allowed you an excuse to get away from your desk. An internet outage across the town had you up and wandering the main road just after noon. Your grandmother refused to join you so she was left to her true crime novel and the weekday droning of talk show hosts.

After a peek in the book shop where you picked out some used thrillers for your nan and a guilty splurge on one of Babs' pies to add to the surprise, you stopped by the diner and had some soup to warm up from the unrelenting cold. You played around on your phone as you blindly slurped from your spoon. With no available connection, you swapped candies to achieve a score high enough to get to the next round.

After another loss, you put your screen down and added some pepper to the tomato soup. You leaned your chin in your hand and peered across the road. The Asp was just diagonal from The Chipped Saucer and from your seat by the window you could see the comings and goings of the dingy bar.

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the hundreds of comments on your video. You weren't entirely surprised that the internet cheered at the sight of a woman beating up a man in broad daylight, you'd seen much worse on the web. But many were curious and asked about how it started and about the small town alluded to in the caption.

You picked up your phone and flipped open the camera. You pointed it through the glass as one of the many bikers strutted out of the bar and down the street. You knew him, like most in town, he was the leader's right hand man. Steve Rogers. He had an odd gait, rigid with long strides, and you remember Kelly used to make fun of him when you walked home from school. That felt like forever ago.

You ended the video and dropped your phone again. You'd send it to Kelly when the outage was over. It would be a good laugh. Plus, you hadn't heard from her much since she moved to the city.

You finished your soup and paid. You went out into the street and cut around to the backstreets. You made your way back to your nans and found Pippin scratching at the front door. You stopped and scooped him up before you let yourself in.

"Don't like the snow, do ya?" You set him down and he whipped his tail before skittering off, "hey nan, I got you some stuff."

"You spend too much," she grumbled as you hung your coat and grabbed her treats.

"Only on you," you sang as you entered the front room, "sugarless blueberry pie, your fave, and some books about murder and all that freaky stuff you love."

"Hmm," she watched you put the pie and books down on the coffee table, "suppose the pie will go good with tea."

"Ah, and I suppose I'll be making that tea?" You returned.

"My arthritis…" she pouted but her grin came through.

"Yeah, yeah," you snickered as you went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "we going black today or something lighter?"

"Put on some of the pekoe," she called back, "make a whole pot."

"Will do, ma'am," you trilled and basked in her annoyed mutter.

💀

When the internet came back, you sent of an email to inform the agency of the interruption and promised to meet your deadlines. Then you puttered around and added a caption to the video before you sent it off to Kelly; 'why he walk like that tho'. She sent a series of crying emojis back and told you to post it.

'Nah, it's a dumb joke.' You typed back.

'Saw ur last vid, ppl will eat it up,' she insisted.

'Well, got nothing else to put up. The account’s dying since no one cares about my writing.'

'DO IT.' Her words sealed your resolve and you uploaded the video with some dramatic music in the background.

The response was almost instantaneous. Several comments saying they were happy to see more and others being for another video. 'We all wanna see inside this fucked up town' one added and several latched on. Ignoring the questions of where this was, you gave a thin promise of future small town thug content.

You turned back to your work email and opened up your draft for your next gig. You couldn't help but smile as you went over your work. You might have just found your niche.

💀

You knew your nan would lose it if she knew you were snooping around the club, so you didn’t tell her. You went down, made her breakfast, went back upstairs to do your work, then tiptoed out in the late afternoon to poke around town for something to upload. Birch was so dull when you lived there but to those outside, it was a novelty you were all too eager to provide.

You got more videos of the bikers; some revving their bikes, others arguing, but there was nothing overly usable. You were getting bored of it until the man himself walked out of the bar. You record the man’s glower expression as he marched down the sidewalk and turned off just down the way.

‘His name is Bucket… wtf?!’ you keyed in and snorted as you waited for it to load to your account.

Still, there was nothing special going on, like always in Birch, and your grandmother was bound to get suspicious if you kept sneaking around. You went back and hid your phone before she could bitch about it. You cooked her dinner and sat with her as your thoughts swung between work and your TikTok.

You went to bed but couldn’t sleep. You ended up watching YouTube on your phone as the windows shook with the night winds. It wasn’t until the darkness began to glow that you were roused from the cocoon of your comforter. You looked out and saw smoke coming from the main road.

You didn’t think before you pulled on your jeans and shoved your feet into your slipper, unconcerned about them soaking through as you barreled down the stairs, the sleeves of your hoodie only half on. The back door bounced behind you and you crunched down into the snow and clamored past the row of lifeless houses.

You were out of breath as you got to the end of the path and rounded the diner to gape over at the burning garage. You got closer as the line of bikers stood in their leather with breath puffing before them in the frigid night. You stepped back into the shadow of the brick façade of the realty office and swiped your camera open.

Your hands shook and you struggled to steady the image on the screen as the mechanic woman raged in only her tee shirt. You didn’t quite understand what was going on; only that her garage was up in smoke and then men were doing nothing to smother it. She swung at the dark haired man and spat at several others; “cowards”... “fuck all of you!”

You gulped and held your breath as she was dragged away by the large redheaded henchman of the slender outsider. She fought for a moment before she was flung over his shoulder and the biker followed their leader back to The Asp. You sidled in between the building and hid until the voices faded into the wind.

Well, that would be a hell of a video. It might even go viral.

💀

Your phone did not stop. You almost felt bad as you saw the screen limn the edges of your cell as you left it face down on the little table beside the couch. Your nan sat in her rocking chair talking away on her corded phone to Linette from down the road. You suspected that every other person in town was gossiping about the same thing; the fire.

You finished your coffee and rubbed your eyes as you checked the time and ignored the pulsing notifications. It was too much to keep up with.

Your grandmother hung up and sighed, “can’t believe it. You hear?”

“Hear what?” you pretended ignorance.

“That old garage burned down. The one with the lady,” she said, “pity. When I was a girl, that place was a salon. Ma used to take us there to get our hair cut. The barber would give us wrapped candies and pretend to cut himself with his scissors.”

“Oh? It burned down?” you weren’t sure you were very convincing but you also could just say you saw it happen.

“Yep, no one really can say. You know, maybe she was welding or some rag caught, but I bet my money on those bikers,” she sneered.

“Good thing you’re poor,” you kidded, “and why the bikers?”

“Oh, well, you know Kimmy, Linette’s girl, works down at the diner and she saw that mechanic arguing with one of those strangers, the ones dealing with the club men. Well, it’s no coincidence that trouble follows those leather jackets around,” she rocked as she nodded knowingly, “oh, one of the boys I knew back in the day, he was found burnt up with his bike. They said the tank blew… well, I saw it and that tank was pristine.”

“Nan,” you gasped, “you… Jesus.”

“Well, things don’t change in Birch, we just get older,” she continued, “when you’re young, everything seems new but then you age and it’s all just the same.”

“Wow, how… inspiring,” you said dryly.

“Girlie, you gotta be careful,” she intoned, “that fire, that’s a lesson to all the women in this town. To everyone. You don’t cross the Commandos.”

“I don’t think anyone--”

“That’s another thing, there has never been a shortage of stupid people, not now not then,” she girded, “those women who get tied up in that club, their lives are already done.”

You frowned and hid your phone in your pocket as you stood. You rubbed your neck and picked up your empty mug, “I should get started.”

“Mmm,” she said as she dialed the phone again, “I wonder if Fran knows yet.”

💀

You were being really fucking stupid but peer pressure was not a logical thing. Even through a screen, you found it hard to resist the goads. So there you were, your phone in your hand as you live-streamed your walk down to The Asp. The data costs alone would make you regret it but you were caught up in the hype of you fifteen second of internet fame.

“Alright,” you stopped across the street and gave a view of the moniker with Cleopatra sultrily looking down at you, “this is it… I just gotta play it cool…” you turned the lens towards you and smiled nervously, “hopefully that dude at the front doesn’t stop me.”

Comments flicked up the bottom of the screen so fast and smilies and hearts floated up the side around your face. You crossed the screen as you turned your phone against your coat and approached the bar door. The large biker butted out his smoke and you bared your teeth nervously. He didn’t stop you as he rolled his shoulders and coughed.

You entered to the noise of classic rock and low voices, the clink of glasses and tap of chalk on marble. You glanced around and quickly swept your phone around to give a view of the patrons. You hurried over to the bar and climbed up on a stool.

“You need a drink?” the woman behind the bar scowled. She looked worn out even with her lips painted bright pink and her eyes clouded with blue shadow.

“Uh, sure, can I… can I get one pint of everything you have on tap?” you asked as you set your phone down and shrugged out of your coat. You draped it over the next stool and reposition your phone as you flipped the cam and used the built in stand on the case to angle yourself onto the screen.

“Sure,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced past you.

You swung your feet as you waited for her to pour the five pints; some with too much foam and the others with no head at all. You took the first and held it up for the camera.

“A classic, BudLight,” you held it up to the light, “no head and…” you sipped, “flat.” You plunked it down and coughed as you grabbed the next, “this is a raddler?” you looked at the tap for confirmation, “grapefruit… smells like piss…” you had a sip, “tastes like it too.”

You chuckled to yourself and asked for a water. You made a show of swishing it around in your mouth before you moved onto the third beer.

“Had to cleanse the palate,” you joked, “now… lots of foam on this one, dark. You know, I’m pretty surprised they have Guinness here but let’s see…” you tasted it and crinkled your nose, “that’s it. Exactly like toilet water!”

You read some of the comments telling you to check the bottles for bugs and laughed. Suddenly you were yanked off the stool by the back of your shirt and your phone was swiped up by another man as the first restrained you. You struggled against his thick arm as it hooked around your neck and the leader of their crew stared at the screen of your cell.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he snarled as he hit the screen with his thumb but the stream kept going. He dropped the phone to the floor and stomped it instead.

“This is the bitch posting about us online,” the man at your back growled. It was Steve, the one with the weird walk.

“I doubt either of you know how to use a computer,” you scoffed, “hey, let me go.”

“And why would we do that when you’re snitching to the whole world, sweetheart?” Bucky kicked your phone away as he crossed his arms.

“Actually, I’m--” you grasped Steve’s arm as it threatened to get tighter, “--promoting your trash business. I was just having a tasting, if you had just asked--”

“Shut up!” Bucky stepped closer and brought your legs up and stopped him as you planted your feet against his stomach.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice came from behind the bar as the waitress shoved aside her empty tray, “hey, she’s just a kid.”

“Bullshit,” Bucky huffed, “she looks full-grown to me.”

“So what are you gonna do?” she said, “she’s young. You can’t--”

“Don’t tell me what I can’t do,” he snapped.

“She’s right,” another voice intoned and that man, Sam, came up beside them with a pool cue in hand, “she’s just goofing around.”

“She’s a rat,” Steve insisted.

“You’re being dramatic. It’s called a meme and you do walk a little strange,” he chuckled, “no one’s gonna follow her breadcrumbs back to this shithole anyway.”

Bucky considered Sam and then looked at Steve. He poked his cheek with his tongue and sucked his teeth.

“So… you vouching for her?” Bucky asked.

“She won’t cause any more trouble, promise,” Sam said, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“You better,” Bucky snapped his fingers and you were released, “get her out of here.”

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kineticallyanywhere · 3 years

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I just realized that Glenn’s Dad probably won’t be too pleased that his son was killed by Willy. We were already feeling like he was more on Glenn’s side at the trial, could Willy possibly be betrayed?

I'm all over the place on this. On one hand, Bill has proven before that he can attempt to help them even while Willy is watching, like while they were trying to stop the gavel. But Willy wasn't actually there at the time, and Bill knows that Willy is downright terrifying. Bill has only ever proven to be out for himself.

But we don't really know enough about Bill to know if this will break him into changing. He didn't seem to care much about Glenn before, pretty easily putting his life at risk even if he didn't actually want Glenn to die. Willy made it pretty clear that killing the dads was at least a part of his plan. Bill (and Beary) were both just arrogant enough to think that they could weasel out of it. But is losing that trial, his grandson, and his son enough to change that? I wanna know so bad

Ultimately, I think: take Willy out of the picture and Bill folds like tissue paper. The more distance, the faster he folds.

now with balanced consideration out of the way tho I wanna have some FUN so like do you think Bill even knows yet? We don't even know what his reaction to loosing Nick was, what if he was on the ropes already? When Willy gets back will he even tell Bill or just let him find out? Could Bill tell when it happened, because Daddy Magic, or does Glenn's soul just being on another plane of This World mean he's still "around" to be drained from? This assuming (like most people have) that we'll see Glenn in hell next episode. How much time will Bill even have to process before he gets flung into the final fight? The other dads spitballed recruiting Bill, but at this point would they want to try that again, or will they be fulfilling their friends final wish of killing his dad? How's Ron feeling about maybe killing Willy at this point, after Glenn's little speech about nerd authors not knowing what they're talking about? Is Henry still willing to give his own dad a "last chance" speech or are they going in guns blazing?

where's Glenn's anchor blunt? Bill smoking it would be real poetic One of the other dads should wear Glenn's Harley Davidson jacket I'm such a sucker for that

#ask ka #dndads #dungeons and daddies #bill close #me talking

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erensangel444 · 3 years

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just a humble bounty hunter

spike spiegel x reader

DNI if not 16+ thank you!

cowboy bebop fr fr is one of my favorite animes it’s just 😘

this fic is spike x fem!reader, if you guys would want to see some gender-neutral fics just let me know in my asks inbox! i’m open to any suggestions if you want a fic that’s specifically tailored to you whether that be race-wise, gender-wise, any disabilities, etc,. just let me know!

likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated:D

this fic has been proofread but if i missed something just let me know!

a/n: i want this life plz. ALSO, I LOVE THIS TROPE: two unemotionally available people whose hearts are taken by another, but for some reason, they can’t have the person they want, so they seek out each other for comfort(aka sex), and eventually, it turns in to something more, and there’s a little bit of angst, but in the end, their hearts belong to one another now. IM GONNA CRY :,) i don’t know if that made any sense but ya feel me???

okay don’t beat me up....but this has a cliche confessing-our-love-in-the-rain scene. IM A SUCKER FOR THE CLICHES OKAY?!! also faye’s lowkey a cock-blocker in this?? I LOVE HER THO, i want her to stomp on me.

warnings: language(most of my fics do contain language), stealing, use of drugs(just weed), violence(no death), germs?? bc transfer of something from one person’s mouth to another(just a cherry stem), alcohol consumption, smut; dry humping, unprotected sex w/ creampie, cumplay, oral(male!receiving), mentions of public sex, degradation + praise,

word count:

summary: attempting to forget the past with a cowboy, unknowingly creating a future.

you could hear the thrum of electricity throughout the bebop. you slid open your door, the lights near the bottom of the wall lighting the walkway. you walked into the kitchen, the room dark beside the moonlight shining in through the open gateway. you grabbed a soda from the fridge, walking towards the open entrance of the bebop.

you could make out spike’s figure in the distance, the slight flare from his cigarette making him easily distinguishable. you opened your soda, spike’s head turning at the sound. he noticed it was you, taking another puff from his cigarette before smiling at you and turning back around.

you had landed on cacri, a possible bounty in the area. the ship sat in the water for tonight, in a bay that was a docking area for ships. it overlooked the city, and if you turned to the other side, the sea stretched for miles fading into a distance of nothingness.

you walked over to spike, who was standing at the edge of the ship. you sat down, your legs hanging off of the ship. you set your soda down, sitting back on your arms. “rough night?” you joked, the soft waves of the water brushing against the ship.

you heard spike chuckle from above you, muttering as he held the cigarette in between his lips, “you could say that,”. you looked up at him, spike already looking down at you. he pulled the cigarette from his lips, holding it out to you, to which you shook your head left and right.

“i prefer more medicinal herbs,” you sighed jokingly, spike smiling down at you. “to each their own,” he mumbled with the cigarette in between his lips, looking back out to the water. you laid your back down on the ship, looking up at the stars. “god that’s what i need right now, some weed,” you declared, sitting back up. “i’ll be back,” you said, standing up and grabbing your soda from the walkway of the ship. “i’ll come with you,” spike offered, rushing to catch up with you. you pouted mockingly, “think i can’t handle myself?”. you walked into the kitchen with spike, setting your soda down on the island.

“you’ve shown full and well you can handle yourself,” spike praised, smirking at you, “maybe i’m just interested in partaking in some of those medicinal herbs,”.

you and spike crammed into your tight ship, the sound of the ship taking off causing ripples along the water. spike had found a 24-hour dispensary not too far away, and you set the ship down about a block away. you walked in, the bell on the door ringing.

a woman sat behind the cash register, smacking her gum loudly. she looked up at you and spike, giving the pair of you an uninterested stare before looking back down at her nail filer.

you looked at spike, raising one eyebrow with a soft smile, spike laughing softly. you walked through the store, grabbing rolling paper and a bag of weed, a strain called “strawnana”. spike couldn’t help but pick up gummy bear edibles, and so you headed to the cashier placing it all out on the countertop in front of you.

“id,” the cashier grumbled. you realized that you hadn’t brought your id and turned towards spike, looking for a solution. “we forgot em’” spike said plainly. the cashier’s unimpressed look remained. “the legal age here is 18 though, right?” spike asked, though he already knew the answer. “we look over 18 right,” spike smiled, draping his arm over your shoulder and pulling you closer.

“no id, no weed,” the cashier said plainly, pointing to a sign behind her that read ‘we card!’. “you know,” spike started, leaning on the countertop, “i really hate to do this, but,” he grabbed the rolling paper and bud, running towards the door.

you paused for a moment, before realizing what was going on. you grabbed the gummy bears from atop the counter, running towards spike who was holding the door open. you could hear a “hey! come back here!” from behind you, and you turned to see spike throw up a peace sign to the cashier.

you ran down the block, running towards your ship. you slowed down, walking for a moment, laughter coming over you. “you’re fucking crazy,” you sighed airily, walking beside spike who let out a soft laugh.

“we got it though didn’t we?” he said with a smile.

you and spike were back outside of the bebop, sitting on the take-off strip. the joint was in between your lips as you took a drag, inhaling the substance. you blew it out with a puff, coughing once with a light chuckle before handing it over to spike.

spike took a hit before blowing out the smoke. the joint had become shorter, barely being held between spike’s fingers. spike deaded the joint, setting it in the ashtray. “yeah, this is what i needed,” you sighed, lying down. it seemed like the stars were brighter than they were before as you looked up at the sky now.

the soft noise of the waves brushing against the ship lulled you further into a calm state. “do you do this often?” spike asked, turning towards you. “only after we get a bounty, shit’s expensive,” you said honestly, spike laughing softly.

spike laid down next to you, looking up at the stars. “s’pretty huh?” you said simply, turning towards spike. spike hummed out an affirmation, still looking at the sky. you smiled at his expression, turning back towards the sky.

“it’s cold,” spike said, sitting back up, “let’s go inside,” you offered, standing up and walking back towards the entrance of the bebop. spike was trailing behind you, gummy bear package in hand.

the loud noise of the gears turning as the gate to the take-off strip closed finally came to a cease. you plopped down on the couch, sighing softly before spike sat down next to you. “feel real good,” he drawled before lying his head down on your lap and smiling up at you.

you just laughed softly, your hand falling to spike’s hair out of instinct. “do you have someone you miss?” spike spoke softly, the conversation taking an abrupt turn. you sucked your bottom lip in before deciding to speak. spike was being vulnerable, the least you could do was reciprocate his vulnerability.

“yeah,” you said plainly, trying to control the shakiness of your voice, “don’t think i’ll ever be able to get em’ back, though. try to tell myself it’s no use to think about them, but i can’t help it,” your voice trailed off towards the end of the sentence.

spike squeezed his eyes shut as if trying to shake away a vision before he spoke quietly, “i miss her, fucked up bringing her into my life,” your hand paused in his hair for a moment, latching onto his every word, “don’t even know where she is, even if i did, i don’t know if i could face her,”. the room grew silent for a moment, your hand resuming its ministrations in spike’s hair.

“love sucks, huh?” you said simply, spike giving you a weak smile. “s’like,” you paused for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts, “no matter how hard you tried to forget, it’s still there, still in the back of your mind,”. spike’s eye lit up at your words. he pushed into your hand, and you hadn’t even realized your hand had stopped.

you continued playing with his hair as spike spoke, “i try so hard not be stuck in my past, but it’s always there, like you said, in the back of my mind,”. you looked down at spike nodding. the room grew silent once more, neither of you itching to say anything.

“jus’ wanna forget,” spike said, his voice breaking slightly. he sat up abruptly, leaning beside you on the couch. he turned to face you, his face closer to you now. “don’t you wanna forget?” he said, his eyes crinkling. you could feel the heat flush to your cheeks, and you nodded, afraid your words would betray you.

next thing you knew spike’s lips were on yours. you hesitated for a moment before reveling in the feel of the kiss. your hands fell to spike’s hair, spike’s hands tracing down your body. his hands gripped your hips, pulling you onto his lap. you let out a slight gasp, pulling away for a moment and looking at spike.

you kissed him once more, mumbling into spike’s lips, “jus’ to forget,”. spike lifted a bit off of the couch, trying to lean into the kiss more, his hands drifting to your backside. spike hummed into your lips, agreeing.

spike was peeling your shirt over your head as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. the kiss was quickly becoming more desperate, muffled moans and grunts falling from both of your lips. you couldn’t help but rock on spike’s laps, your arousal dampening your panties.

“sh-shit,” spike pulled away, leaning his head back on the couch. you continued to grind on his lap, your hands tracing over his chest, his shirt fully unbuttoned. “jus’ like that,” he groaned, before pulling you in for another kiss, your whimpers being muffled by his lips

your hands fell to the button of his pants, fumbling with the item before an abrupt clearing of the throat interrupted you. you pulled away from spike’s lips quickly, looking towards the doorway.

faye was leaning along the wall, smirking at the pair of you. you quickly removed yourself from spike’s lap, grabbing your shirt from the floor. “and to think i only came for a glass of water and got a free show,”

“s’not for free actually, pay up” spike grumbled, buttoning back up his shirt. you stood up from the couch, desperately wanting to cave in on yourself as you spoke softly, “goodnight, spike,”.

you looked down at the man, an apologetic expression on your face. “goodnight,” he said, smiling up softly at you.“night, faye,” you said, passing by her. “night y/n!” she yelled down the hall, “cute bra by the way,”.

“shut up faye!”

you hadn’t gotten much sleep that night, tossing and turning, throwing the covers off of your body before curling up in them once more. you knew faye was going to give you shit about it in the morning, and you could deal with that.

but what did this mean for you and spike?

you awoke to ein licking at your face, ed chanting at the end of your bed, “bacon! bacon! bacon!” she grinned, ein barking at her excitement. “alright, fine,” you grumbled, “just get ein off of me!”.

edward grabbed the dog from the bed, ein licking her face, “yuck! your breath stinks ein,”. you laughed at edward, patting ein’s head. “come on, ed,” you said, walking down the halls of the bebop. you were silently praying that spike was still asleep.

you walked into the kitchen to find faye sitting at the countertop, drinking coffee. she smirked at you over her cup, “good morning, sunshine!” she said in a sweet tone, “morning faye,” you replied. you turned to look at her, grabbing the bacon from the fridge.

she set her coffee cup down at the countertop, smiling at you. “faye,” you whined, drawing out the e. “we have a lot to discuss, very important things to discuss,” she whispered, ed sitting on the floor playing with ein.

“let me at least make some coffee first,” you grumbled, putting the first piece of bacon onto the pan.

ed was happily chewing on her bacon, playing chess in the living room. you and faye sat at the countertop, coffee cups in hand. “first off,” faye started, and you prepared yourself for the slew of judgements to be thrown at you. “what the fuck?”.

“let me explain,” you assured her, faye just clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, “no need for explanations, it was like i walked in on a porno,” “hey! it was not that bad,” you chastised, looking back down to your coffee.

“we were high, it didn’t mean anything, trust me,” you said, taking a sip of your coffee. your stomach turned at your words, but you ignored it. “it better not of, cause we’ve got a bounty to catch, and i can’t have you lovebugs getting in the way of cold, hard money,” faye said.

you laughed softly, “you’re just gonna gamble it away anyways,”. faye pushed your shoulder, “and who’s gonna be getting wasted at the bar while i invest my money wisely,” she teased. “oh yeah, you’re a prime example of a smart spender. at least my money is wasted on vodka,”. she took a sip from her coffee, “is that really that much better?”.

you both laughed softly, ed cheering from across the room at a smart chess move she had made. you and faye sat at the countertop for a while, conversing. faye had gone to shower, leaving you in the kitchen. you washed your two coffee cups, drying them off afterwards.

“morning, spike!” you heard ed say happily from across the room, your eyes shooting up. “g’morning kid,” he grumbled, walking over to the countertop while rubbing his eyes. “morning,” you said, trying to contain a sense of normalcy within your voice.

“hey,” he said, his voice softening. “i-i’m gonna go shower,” you said, spike nodding. you walked out of the kitchen, rushing towards your bathroom once you were out of spike’s line of sight.

“slow down, speed racer,” jet joked as you brushed past him. “sorry, jet,” you said, smiling sheepishly. you opened the door to your bathroom, closing it quickly after.

you leaned against the metal of the door, taking a deep breath. why couldn’t you just act normal? last night hadn’t meant anything, it was just to forget. you rationalized last night, realizing your actions were out of proportion. spike wouldn’t act differently, so you decided not to either.

a knock on the door broke you from your thoughts. you unlocked it, sliding open the door. “spike?” the man pushed inside of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. “can’t just fuckin ignore it,” he said, shaking his head.

“wanted more last night,” he said, staring at you intently. “know you did too,”. “spike, w-we can’t,” you reasoned, spike backing you up against the wall. “why not? it’s harmless sex,” “harmless sex,” you repeated. spike nodded, “just to forget,” you whispered, “just to forget,” spike repeated.

you pulled him in for a kiss, moaning at contact. you had been itching for the feel of his lips on yours since last night. his hands quickly fell to the bottom of your shirt, lifting it over your head. he pulled away for a moment, unbuttoning his own shirt before his lips found yours once more.

your hand fell to his pants, tugging at them, hoping that spike would get the message. he read you loud and clear, pulling his sweats down and attempting to shimmy out of them. his pants pooled at his feet as he tugged at your sleep shorts pulling them down your body.

spike lifted you up, your legs latching around his waist. he stepped out of his sweats, walking you over to the countertop. his hand drifted to your lace-covered center, rubbing at your clit through the fabric. “can feel it through your panties, you’re dripping,” spike teased. “fuck,” you sighed, your head falling back into the mirror.

“can’t say i’m much better,” spike groaned, grabbing your hand and pulling it to his bulge. you gasped slightly, looking at him. he was big. spike just smirked up at you, grinding his bulge against your center. the fabric between the two of you created more friction, whimpers falling freely from your lips as spike groaned lowly into your shoulder.

he placed kisses onto your skin, pulling away for a moment, “want it?” he asked, grinding into you more. “gonna-fuck-gonna be too loud,” you whined, looking at spike. spike pulled away from you completely and you whimpered at the loss of contact.

he turned on the shower, the water falling from the showerhead, creating noise as it hit the floor of the shower. “problem solved,” he said, smiling at you. he kissed you once more, his fingers pulling your panties to the side, rubbing at your slit. he moaned into your mouth pulling away, “won’t even need to prep you, so fuckin’ ready for me,” spike said, his eyes staring at his finger rubbing through your slit, the digit quickly becoming covered in your slick.

“n-need you inside!” you yelped as spike’s thumb rubbed at your clit. “fuck,” spike sighed, pulling his boxers down your legs. you shimmied out of your panties, lifting your hips from the countertop of the sink. you kicked them onto the floor, grabbing at the back of spike’s head, kissing him. he pulled away breathless, looking at you.

“you’re sure?” he asked. you couldn’t help the way your heart slightly palpitated as you nodded eagerly. “are you?” you asked, your hand rubbing at the back of his neck. he nodded the same as you had. “okay,” you said quietly, spike repeating the word as he pushed into you slowly.

you both let out a slight gasp at the push inside, smiling at one another after. as spike pushed further inside, the whimpers and mewls falling from your lips grew in volume. he bottomed out, pulling you in for a kiss, groaning into your mouth.

“so fuckin’ tight, clenching on me,” spike groaned. you whined as spike pulled out slightly, thrusting back into you. you both let out airy moans at that. spike was breathing deeply as you adjusted to the feel of his cock inside of you. “m-move!” you mewled, desperate for more, “please, want it!”. spike obliged, his eyes lingering on his cock pushing in and out of you.

his eyes raked over your body, looking up at your face contorted in pleasure. “so good, spike! s-so good!” you whimpered. his cock brushed against your walls, hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you. “oh fuck,” spike moaned airily.

he nuzzled his face into your neck, his moans and groans muffled by your skin. “c-close!” you yelped. spike pulled away from your lips, his forehead pressing against yours. “come on,” he said, his voice shaky. “lemme feel it, wanna feel you cum on my cock, come on, angel,” he rambled, thrusting in and out of you at a rough pace now.

spike brought his thumb down to your clit, rubbing quick circles on the bundle of nerves. “s-spike!” you moaned as you came on his cock, your toes curling, a mantra of spike’s name falling from your lips.

spike took in your expression, your eyebrows furrowed, your tongue lolling out of your mouth slightly. he looked down to the ring of white around his cock, moaning at the sight. he looked back up at you, your eyes open now.

“cum inside, i’m on the pill,” you said, panting. “wanna feel it inside me,” you whimpered. spike moaned, throwing his head back. your hands traced over his abs, your nails scratching softly at the skin. “y/n, fuck, gonna, gonna-” spike groaned. his head fell into your shoulder, his moans muffled by your shoulder as his warm load filled you.

you sighed as spike’s thrust slowed, spike bottoming out once more. “fuck,” he sighed, the explicit turning into a soft laugh. you joined in, laughing softly. you pulled him in for another kiss, smiling into his lips.

he pulled out of you, causing you to wince at the stretch. you closed your legs abruptly, not wanting his cum to leak out of you and onto the floor. “no keep em open,” he said, his hand falling to your thigh, “wanna see it pool out of you,”. you raised an eyebrow at him, “i’ll clean it up,” he promised. you obliged, opening your thighs.

“fuck,” spike groaned, watching his cum leak out of you. you laughed softly at his astonishment, spike looking up at you. “what’s so funny?” he asked, smirking. “didn’t take you as being interested in cum play, but now that i think about it though, it makes a lot of sense,” you teased, smiling at him.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he said, raising his eyebrow. “oh, nothing,” you joked, grinning at him now. you pushed yourself off of the countertop, standing next to spike now. “get in the shower, bozo,” he joked.

“only if you join,” you teased, leaning close to him, “ya kinda smell like shit, spike,” you joked. “smell didn’t bother you earlier, huh?” spike teased, smiling at you. you felt your cheeks flush with heat as you stepped into the shower, spike behind you.

the water cascaded over your bodies, your head pressed against spike’s chest as the smell of your tangerine soap flooded your senses.

the bounty was on a well-known gambler, who had a tendency to rob casinos where he had lost his money. he always had two pretty women on his arms, though it boggled your mind how he did, the man not being particularly attractive, his personality even worse.

that’s why you had an issue with the plan to catch this bounty. you and faye were sent in to be his arm-candy for the night. the plan was to approach him at the bar, he’d take one look at the two of you, and drag you to whatever table he and his entourage sat at that night.

faye had gone in a dark red, spaghetti strap gown, and you in a black strapless gown, the top of your breasts peeking out perfectly from the dress. your hair had been pinned up, a few strands falling to frame your face.

you walked out from your room in the chosen attire for the night, a scowl on your face. faye whistled as you entered the room with a yell of “do a little spin,”. her commentary brought a smile to your face as you smiled softly with a holler of “you first,”.

you looked over to spike, his eyes raking over your figure. you couldn’t help the feeling in your stomach, spike’s eyes raising to your face and offering you a sheepish smile, knowing he’d been caught.

you laughed softly to yourself as jet began explaining the plan for tonight.

you stood at the bar, sipping on a vodka cranberry as you waited for the bounty to approach the bar. faye and you had on undetectable earpieces as you leaned against the bar, scouting the area. spike sat at a blackjack table not too far from the bar, acting as a protective measure.

you knew as soon the bounty entered, a large mass of people coming into the bar, everyone turning to them and murmuring. you and faye just had to wait patiently until they approached the bar. you figured that the group would secure a table before coming to the bar.

you toyed with the ice in your cup, sighing softly. “he’s headed over,” you heard spike’s voice in your ear, shivering at the sound. you put on your best fake smile, sitting down on the bar stool. you pushed your arms together, accentuating your cleavage.

faye sat opposite of you, in a similar pose. “right behind you,” spike said, your body slightly tensing before you forced yourself to relax. “what are two beautiful ladies like you doing all alone?” the man groveled, an ugly grin on his face.

god, men were so predictable.

you turned around on your stool, forcing a sultry smile onto your expression. “looking for someone to make us feel less alone,” you said in a seductive tone, the man laughing softly. “you’re in luck then,” the man drawled, grabbing you by your waist and spinning you into him.

you had to physically stop the bile forming in your throat, letting out an airy giggle in response. spike’s voice was sounding through your earpiece, “never heard you laugh like that before,”. you tried your best ignored spike’s commentary, latching your arm around the man, faye on the opposite side of him.

you had been seated at a poker table for a good hour now, clapping your hands together enthusiastically to cheer on the man who was your bounty for the night. you had grown exhausted with your facade, but you just had to wait for the perfect opportunity.

you leaned up against the man’s side, your hand falling to his thigh. “think i left something in my ship, would you mind walking me out?” you said, peering up at him your eyes wide.

he clicked his tongue to the side of his mouth, smirking, before grabbing your waist, and sliding out of the booth. he walked you out of the casino, his hand falling to your backside, full-on grabbing your ass. you held back from ripping his dirty hands off at you, silently praying for the moment where you could give this fucker what he deserved.

“where’s your ship?” he said as you got further into the parking lot. you just smirked at that, faye walking out from the casino. “about that,” you sighed before landing a roundhouse kick to the man’s face. he fell to the ground groaning, and you kicked him once in his stomach for good measure.

you knelt down next to him, pulling the gun from his pants as you hovered over his face, “just so you know, not every woman wants your grimy hands all over them, i’m not a piece of fuckin property,”. you stood back up fully, towering over the man. spike walked out from behind his ship, handcuffs in hand.

“you, though,” he drawled, sitting the man up and handcuffing his hands behind his back, “are property of the bebop,”. you just smiled at spike, walking him back to spike’s ship. “hurry before his buddies come out here,” you said, basically shoving the man into spike’s ship

“sure you can handle em?” he asked, full and well knowing you were capable of defending yourself. “have i ever had a problem?” you smirked, spike just laughing softly. the pair of you walked away from spike’s ship and back to the entrance of the casino. just in time, you thought.

“sorry, boys,” you smirked, walking over to the group. faye had positioned herself along the wall of the building, acting as backup for when the fight began. “seems like your friend left,” you shrugged.

“you bitch!” one of his friends shouted, charging at you. you dodged the punch he had thrown, grabbing his arm before flipping him onto his back on the ground. he laid there, squirming in pain. a second man charged at you, spike easily stopping him by swiping the man’s leg with his foot. the man tumbled over, spike landing a kick to his face for good measure.

“who’s next?”

you, faye and spike had cleared out the group, the men laying near the exit of the casino, moans of pain sounding out in the silence of the night. “see ya back on the bebop,” you waved to faye, then to spike with a smile, opening the door to your ship.

you had decided that after all your hard work, you deserved a treat. you set your ship down near the closest 24 hour liquor store. you opened the door, a bell ringing. you gave a soft wave to the cashier before ducking down the isle, in search of a bottle of wine.

you grabbed the cheapest one from the shelf, shuffling through the items in your clutch, pulling out your id and card. you set the wine down in front of the cashier, “this all?” he asked, to which you nodded simply. “5.50,” he totaled the amount, and you handed him your card.

“have a good night,” you said simply, opening the door of the liquor store, the cold air brushing against your face as you walked back to your ship.

“rough night?” spike joked, walking into the living room of the bebop. you simply smiled at the parallel of his words with yours from the night before as you spoke, “guess you could say that,” you sighed, propping your feet up on the table.

the clock read 2:37 AM. the bounty you had collected tonight was on a man named hobi jones, wanted for numerous armed robberies. he now was in the holding cell of the bebop, the plan being to drop him off to the police station in the morning.

“looks like you’ve turned to the drink,” spike commented, his hand motioning to the bottle you brought to your lips. “a little cheap wine never hurt anybody,” you smiled, handing the bottle over to him. “merlot? didn’t realize it was that bad of night,” spike joked, taking a sip from the bottle.

“hey!” you laughed, “i chose the cheapest shit, not my fault i’m a broke bounty hunter,” “kinda is your fault,”. you both sat in silence for a moment, passing the bottle amongst yourselves. “you’re plotting,” spike said, eyeing you. you turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “huh?” you said simply, smiling softly.

“well, i mean, you’re sitting on the couch, looking like this” his eyes raked over your figure, “and you seduced me into joining you for a bottle of wine,” “seduced you?” you asked, your smile growing now. “if anything,” you teased, setting the bottle down on the table before positioning yourself atop spike’s lap, “i think you coming in here shirtless, practically naked, is a bit slutty, don’t you agree?”.

spike laughed softly at your words, his hands falling to your hips as he rutted you against his lap, “what are you gonna do about it?” he said simply. your lips were on his in an instance, soft hums falling from both of your lips. “looked so fuckin’ good in that dress tonight,” spike mumbled into your lips, his hands digging into your ass.

“w-wanna blow you,” you whimpered, pulling away from spike’s lips. “god, please,” he groaned, looking down at you as you kissed down his chest. your hands fell to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging them down his legs. you palmed him through his boxers, his cock already half-hard.

you tapped at his left thigh, spike lifting his hips up slightly. you tugged the boxers down his body, the fabric pooling around spike’s feet. his cock sprung up, slapping softly against his stomach. “fuck,” you sighed airily, your thumb rubbing across his slit, spreading his precum against the tip of his cock.

“shit,” spike hissed, leaning into your touch. one hand hovered one spike’s thigh, softly scratching at the skin. you wrapped your mouth around the tip, sucking gently, spike letting out a loud sigh. your free hand wrapped around the base of spike’s cock, moving up and down his length along with your mouth.

you pulled away from his member, a string of saliva connected to your lips. you grinned up at spike, the man putting a hand over his eyes with a mutter of “you’re trying to fuckin’ kill me,”. you laughed softly, your eyes falling back down to his cock.

you planted your hands on his thigh, mumbling against the tip of his cock, “fuck my throat,”. spike’s breath hitched as he stared down at you, his jaw slack. “please,” you whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. you opened your eyes at the feeling of spike’s thumb brushing across your cheek.

“yeah? open wide then, tongue out,” spike smirked down at you. your tongue lolled out of your mouth, spike’s hands latching into your hair as he inched your mouth down his cock. “fuck,” he drew out the word, “so good,”. your nose brushed against the skin of his pelvis as you gagged around his cock, your nails digging into his thigh.

“fuck,” he groaned, pulling you off of his cock, “looked so pretty choking on my cock,”. tears were forming in your eyes, close to pooling over your lower lid. a string of spit was connected to your mouth as you panted, catching your breath. “want my cum down your throat?” spike asked, already knowing the answer.

you nodded eagerly, planting your hands back on his thighs. “just use me,” you whined, your hand falling into your panties and rubbing at your clit. spike’s hands were back on your hair, your mouth wrapping around his saliva covered member. “shit,” spike groaned, thrusting into your mouth slightly. “just want me to use you, huh?” his voice was shaky now, spike getting closer to his release.

you gagged on his cock, the sound of you choking sounding throughout the room. tears were falling down your cheeks now, your nose slightly runny, but you reveled in it. you loved the sound of spike losing his mind above you, his hands gripping your hair tighter.

“gonna flood your throat-shit-gonna take it all right?” spike moaned. you couldn’t answer, your mouth full of his cock. spike didn’t wait for an answer, his hip thrusting up once as he pushed you against the base of his cock, your nose pushed against the skin of his pelvis. spike’s load burst into your throat as you tried to swallow in time with the spurts.

he pulled you off his cock slightly, only the tip of his cock on your tongue as one of his hands fell to jerk his length. some of his cum dribbled down your chin as you breathed heavily. spike’s hands fell onto the couch next to him, spike throwing his head back. he looked back down at you, your hands in between your legs, your slick covering your fingers.

“i came,” you whimpered softly, bringing your finger to your lips and wrapping your mouth around the digit. spike laughed softly from above you, “so fuckin’ dirty,” he drawled, his fingers collecting the cum from your chin before being pushed into your mouth, your fingers sucking on his digit.

you smiled up at spike once he removed his finger from your mouth, sighing softly before standing up. “get to bed,” you said softly, “we’ve got some money to make tomorrow,”. spike smiled up at you, “drinks tomorrow?” he said, causing you to pause in walking to your bedroom.

you turned to look at him over your shoulder, grinning, “only if you’re paying,”

the crew had collected a decent amount of money from the bounty, the sum being spent between the four of you, and ed received spending money out of each of your amounts.

your newfound--and most likely short-lived--wealth was being spent at the bar, spike sitting on the stool next to you. “another round please,” spike raised his hand slightly, the bartender nodding. your cheek was on your hand, your arm leaning on the countertop as you faced spike.

“you wanna know why i’m such a good kisser,” spike leaned next to your ear, whispering. you laughed softly, raising one eyebrow, “who said you were a good kisser?” you teased. the bartender poured more vodka into your two shot glasses, spike asking for a small bowl of cherries.

“you know i’ll let that dig slide,” he smirked at you, “only cause you look so good,”. you blushed at spike’s words, regaining your composure, “not to bad yourself, spiegel,” you smiled softly. the bartender placed a small glass bowl of cherries next to spike, spike uttering out a short thanks.

“back to my amazing kissing skills,” he said confidently, causing your smile to grow. “watch this,” he said, staring you intently. he took one of the cherries, the stem held in between his thumb and pointer finger. he popped the fruit into his mouth, only the stem held in between his fingers.

“now for the main event,” he smiled, placing the cherry stem on his tongue. he closed his mouth, still staring at you, his eyes twinkling. you could see his cheeks moving, his tongue tying the cherry tongue into a knot.

he stuck his tongue out, his words jumbled, “see? told you,”. spike stuck his tongue back in his mouth as you muttered, “oh shut up,” attaching your lips to his. the kiss took spike by surprise before he melted into it, his hand falling to your waist. you pulled away, smiling at spike before sticking out your tongue, the cherry stem on your tongue. “see?” you drawled, mimicking spike.

the night ended with spike hiking up your dress in one of the bathroom stalls, his cock pushing into your warm walls.

you woke up with a blasting headache, the alcohol from last night coming back in full-swing. you groaned, sitting up in your bed, your head in your hands. begrudgingly, you made your way to the kitchen.

the bebop was unnaturally quiet, ed’s laughter wasn’t sounding throughout the living room, nor was faye’s ridiculing tone. you walked into the kitchen, spike sitting at one of the stools at the island.

“where is everybody?” you asked, pouring yourself coffee from the pot. “jet is at the bank making an investment or some dumb shit like that, faye’s at the casino, and ed,” he paused for a moment, “i don’t know where ed is,”.

you laughed softly, “she always finds her way back here so i’m not too worried,”. you groaned quietly, rubbing at your forehead. “hangover?” spike questioned, to which you nodded. “mrs. cherry stem can’t hold her alcohol then?” spike teased. you just shook your head with a soft smile, “fuck off,” you joked, standing up and opening the kitchen cabinets in search for advil.

“if anything,” you started, finding the advil and popping open the container, “you’re mr. cherry stem, you started that bullshit,”. you put the advil container back away walking over to the stool you were sitting in.

“i thought you’d be glad i started it, i mean from the way you were yelling my name in the bathroom last night,” he raised his voice an octave, taking on a more nasally tone, “spike! spike!”. you shoved him in his shoulder, spike mocking hurt as he clutched his shoulder with a pouted lip.

“you know you really shouldn’t take advil, doesn’t help much,” he said plainly, taking a sip from his coffee. “i have a much better hangover cure,” he proclaimed, standing up from his seat. you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him shuffle around the kitchen, pulling out a multitude of items.

when he had finally gathered everything, he pointed his finger at you, raising and eyebrow as he tried to contain a smile. “now watch very closely, i’ll only teach you this once,”. you laughed softly, raising your hand to your forehead in salute.

“raw egg yolk,” spike said, cracking the egg into a bowl, your upper lip curling in disgust. “bear with me,” he chuckled. he grabbed the yolk with a spoon, separating it from the egg whites. he placed it into the glass, smiling at you.

“pepper,” he said, sprinkling the seasoning from the canister on top of the egg yolk in the glass. “now for my favorite part,” he celebrated, grabbing the bottle of gin, pouring some of the liquid into the glass.

“why do i feel like this is gonna make me more drunk if anything,” you sighed, laying your head on your arms as you watched spike. he smiled, “would that really be that bad?”. you chuckled in response, looking over at spike as he grabbed the hot sauce with a proclamation, “last ingredient!”.

“and there you have it, my speciality, a prairie oyster,” he cheered, pushing the glass over to you. “spike,” you began to complain, drawing out his name. “jus’ try it! it works wonders, promise you,” he reassured you.

“if i die, i’m haunting you in the afterlife,” “i’d welcome it,”. you grabbed the glass, lifting it to your mouth, swallowing the entirety of its substance. “yuck,” you exclaimed after swallowing, sticking out your tongue. “they grow up so fast,” spike teased, causing you to smile over at him.

“you want pancakes?” you asked, standing up from your stool as you moved throughout the kitchen, grabbing pancake mix from the pantry, blueberries from the fridge. “you know me so well,” spike said, standing up after you. he leaned on the wall, watching you mix the pancake batter.

“need some music,” he stated, grabbing his phone. dream by the pied pipers began playing through the speaker of his phone, spike’s arms wrapping around your waist as he nuzzled his face into your neck. “gonna make me burn myself,” you laughed, pouring the batter into the pan.

“dance with me then,” spike said, spinning you around. you gasped before smiling up at him. “may i have this dance?” he joked, curtsying. “you may,” the grin audible in your voice as you held out your hand.

spike grabbed your hand, pulling you close, his hands falling to your waist, your hands latching behind his neck. he hadn’t stopped looking at you, a soft smile still on his face. you shuffled around the kitchen, step-together-step, spike grinning now.

“my pancake’s gonna burn,” you laughed softly, leaning up to give spike a chaste kiss before wiggling out of his hold. you walked over to the stove, grabbing the spatula and flipping the pancake over.

spike’s arms were around your waist once more, spike leaving soft kisses on your exposed shoulder, only a thin tank top strap covering the skin. “so clingy today, spike,” you teased. “jus’ wanna be close,” he mumbled into your skin. “s’alright,” you said softly, your cheeks flushing with heat.

you felt that familiar feeling clutch onto your heart, but you pushed it away, not wanting to recognize what it meant, not wanting to be reminded of its familiarity.

faye’s voice broke you from the comfort of spike’s arms, “hello lovebirds,” she said, walking over to the kitchen island. “faye,” you reprimanded slightly, telling her not to go any further. she just laughed, raising an eyebrow at you as spike now stood further away from you. he paused the music on his phone, his eyes still lingering on your face.

“you can take the first one spike,” you said, placing the blueberry pancake on a plate and handing it to spike.

you were sitting on your bed, your mini yamaha keyboard sitting in front of you. your fingers played different chords as you quietly sung along. a knock on your door broke you from your tranquility as you raised your voice, “come in,”.

the door slid open, spike standing behind it. “hey,” you said, smiling up at him. you hadn’t really talked since this morning, faye interrupting whatever moment was going on between the two of you. maybe it was a good thing that she had interrupted you.

maybe you were getting to attached, maybe this was becoming more than just forgetting. was it more for spike? “y/n, hey,” spike waved his hand in front of your face breaking you from your thoughts. “sorry,” you muttered, “zoned out for a sec, what’d ya need,” you said, patting the bed for spike to sit down.

he sat, tracing his finger across your keyboard, “didn’t know you played,” he said, looking at you intently. “not very well,” you smiled, “plus it’s a mini keyboard, not much i can do with it,” “play something for me,” spike suggested.

“i’m really not very good spi-” “please?” he asked, and you couldn’t help but oblige. your fingers pressed on the simple chords, your voice adding onto the music.

“sweet creature,” you sung softly, “had another talk about where it’s going wrong,”. you continued singing, your fingers pressing the keys in accordance to the notes you were singing. you couldn’t look up at spike, embarrassment consuming you as your eyes remained glued to your keyboard.

unable to cope with the feeling brewing in your stomach, you lifted your hand away from the keyboard. you mustered up the courage to look up at spike, his cheeks flushed a light pink, “y-your voice,” his voice broke for a moment, and you could visibly see him swallow. his voice grew quieter, “it’s really pretty,”.

you both sat there in silence for a moment. you could see the slightest hint of hurt etched on spike’s face, but it wasn’t your room to question why. you just wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hug and muttering a “thank you,” into his skin.

you don’t know how long you remained that way, but eventually spike’s arms were clutching onto you, your body acting as his anchor. you were his anchor.

though the two of you had gotten distracted for a moment, spike had originally come into your room to ask if you wanted to go grab something to eat. you now sat in a booth at spike’s favorite ramen restaurant. “s’good huh?” spike smiled as he watched you slurp up noodles.

“why have i never been invited here before?” you chastised jokingly, “can’t believe you would hide something like this from me,” you said dramatically, grabbing more noodles with your chopsticks. “i’ll only come here with you from now on,” spike promised. you couldn’t help the way your heartbeat quickened at his words.

“they give free matcha ice cream after the meal too,” spike added. you dropped your chopsticks into your bowl, looking over at spike with a smile. “i think i’m in heaven,” you reasoned, spike laughing softly.

spike had asked for the ice cream to go, and the pair of you now walked around the city center, matcha ice creams in hand. you pointed out a boutique, you and spike walking inside. the store was full of jewelry, candles, and other random items. you scanned through the rings sitting in a jewelry case.

your eye fell on a green aventurine ring, the jewel grabbing your attention.”the green one?” spike asked, turning towards you. you looked at him with a raised eyebrow, a soft smile on your face, “how’d you know?” you asked, looking back down at the ring.

“suits you,” he said, his shoulder brushing against yours, “get it,”. you shook your head, turning to look around the store, “blew most of my bounty money already, shouldn’t spend anymore,” you reasoned. “did i say you’d be paying?” spike said, almost as though it puzzled him that you thought you’d pay for your own ring.

“spike, i can’t let you d-” “quit being stubborn, grab the ring,” he interrupted, walking towards the cash register. you grabbed the ring, quickly following behind him. the cashier rang it up with a mumble of, “7 dollars and 37 cents”. spike handed her a 10 dollar bill before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the store.

he grabbed your hand, slipping the ring on your pointer finger, “s’pretty,” he murmured, looking back up at your face. “yeah,” you said softly, and before your brain could catch up, you were wrapping your arms around his body and pulling him in for a hug.

“thank you,” you mumbled into spike’s chest, the giving a short hum in answer.

though cacri had been a beautiful planet, you were glad to be somewhere with a beautiful beach. hot, white sand that toasted the soles of your feet, almost crystal clear water. you were lounging in a beach chair, an umbrella over your face. you were reading an old play titled blithe spirit, you had picked it up from a bookstore after the ramen date with spike.

you reasoned that you shouldn’t call it a date, feelings already being designated as non-acceptable. you sighed, pushing your sunglasses onto your hair. though spike was the reason for your inner turmoil, you couldn’t help but watch him splash ed with water.

he had a huge grin on his face, and you could hear his laughter. your eyes raked further down his body, pausing on his abdomen before you turned your attention back to your book.

“you brought food right,” you heard spike’s voice, lifting your head as you saw him jogging towards you. ‘mhm’ you nodded, leaning over your chair and tapping on the picnic basket.

“ohh yum,” spike cheered, pulling out the container of chocolate covered strawberries. “want one?” he said, holding the fruit out to you. you accepted with a smile, biting down on the chocolate covered delicacy. a small amount of juice dribbled down your chin, spike laughing softly at you.

“always so messy,” he sighed, his thumb collecting the strawberry juice before bringing the digit to his tongue and lifting it up. you could feel the heat in your cheeks, that familiar tingle spreading throughout your body.

“bathing suit’s pretty on you,” he complimented, his eyes raking over your figure with a smirk. he bit the chocolate covered strawberry whole, placing the remains on the cover of the container.

“thanks for the snack,” spike grinned, running back down towards the shoreline. jet groaned from beside you, flipping over onto his back.

“you guys disgust me,” he grumbled.

jet and ed walked back to jet’s ship with calls of, “see you back on the ship,”. faye had spent the day at the casino, and you teased her slightly for it earlier in the morning when she discussed her plans for the day.

you and spike had crammed into his ship for the beach trip, and you found yourself attempting to stuff towels and a picnic basket into the tight area. eventually, you both were seated, spike’s ship lifting off.

“heard this song the other day,” spike said, looking at you for a second before focusing his attention back in front of him. “search up hey lover by daughter’s of eve,” he said, tilting his head towards his phone that sat in the center console of the ship.

you grabbed the device, typing in the song title. music flooded the speakers of spike’s ship as you smiled at his head bobbing along to the beat. “hey hey hey lover,” spike sung off pitch, causing you to laugh softly.

he smiled over at you, “s’ earth music,” he said, turning the volume down slightly. “from the 1960s or something, long time ago,” “s’neat,” you smiled over at him. spike’s hand fell back to the volume nozzle, the music growing louder once more.

spike’s hand grabbed yours causing you to gasp softly. he closed your hand into a fist, using it as a makeshift microphone as he continued to sing off-key. “focus on getting us back to the bebop,” you laughed softly, pulling your hand from his hold.

you sought out comfort from spike, your hand grabbing his. you soon realized the gravity of your actions, planning to pull away, but spike’s hand softly squeezed yours. you let your hands rest latched together on the center console as the moon began its ascent in the night sky.

spike had come into your room that night, his body snuggling against yours under the cover. your soft breaths became synchronized as his arm wrapped around your midsection, the pair of you drifting off into sleep

that morning when you woke up, spike was no longer next to you.

you couldn’t help but wonder what you had done wrong. did he realize you had fallen in love with him? did you even realize it? you shook away the thoughts, getting into your ship.

spike had ignored you the entirety of the day, rushing out of the kitchen once he had seen you. you had decided that you needed some weed, something to calm you down. you were using it as a coping mechanism. you hadn’t gotten high in a while, most of your time spent with spike.

you had blanked out the entire flight there, your brain on autopilot. you set your ship down, pushing open the door as you stepped out of your ship. the bell on the dispensary door rang, the cashier giving you a soft wave which you returned with a smile. you grabbed rolling paper, and a small bag of bud, the cashier totaling the amount.

“thanks,” you said softly, pushing open the door. you walked back to your ship, your mind flooded with images of spike, overrun with worries. on a lighter note, the planet you were on for this next bounty was actually one you had been to before.

there was a beautiful lookout area that you had gone to with faye, and in no rush to return to the bebop, you set your destination for the lookout spot.

you had only been at the lookout for about 30 minutes when you felt the first drop of rain hit your skin. “fuck,” you grumbled. you set the joint down onto the dirt, stepping on it before you rushed into your ship. the rain was hitting the windshield, your ship lifting off as you headed back to the bebop.

the rain seemed to worsen as you got closer to the bebop, the raindrops hitting your windshield sounding like pellets. you set your ship down on the landing strip of the bebop, groaning at the thought of having to rush inside. you prepared yourself for the feeling of the cold rain on your skin, pushing open the door of your ship.

you yelped slightly, rushing down the landing strip and towards the entrance gate, which to your surprise, was already open. a figure was rushing towards you, and you soon made it out to be spike. the ship had been set down in the water for the night, close to the harbor, the lamplights from the sidewalk lighting up spike’s face.

“where were you,” he yelled as he rushed over to you. “you didn’t care earlier,” you grumbled walking towards the entrance of the bebop. spike grabbed your hand, turning you back towards him. “i was worried about you,” he yelled over the sound of the rain, and you couldn’t tell if tears were forming in your eyes or if it was just the rain.

“yeah?” you yelled, your voice shaky, “all i’ve been doing all fucking day is worrying about you!” you ennunciated the last word with a jab to his chest. the rain was still coming down hard, your eyes squinting. “i can’t-” your voice hiccuped, your throat feeling tighter, “c-can’t do this anymore, spike,”.

spike eyes remained at you, his bottom lip under his upper one. “it was jus’ to forget right?” you continued at spike’s silence, “so it doesn’t matter,”. you turned back walking towards the entrance once more.

“wasn’t to forget,” spike yelled over the rain, walking towards you as you paused your movements. “i-i was so scared this morning,” his voice quieted for a moment and you had to lean in to hear him. “you were humming something in your sleep, some tune,” he paused, looking down at the floor.

“every thing reminded me of her, every whistle i heard along to the melody of a song, every hum along to a certain tune,” he was looking at you now. “b-but for once, th-this wasn’t her anymore. i didn’t think about her,” spike’s voice broke.

“it was only you,” he finished. you responded in the only way you saw acceptable, your hands planting on spike’s cheek as you pulled him in for a kiss. “s’ only been you,” spike mumbled into your lips. “only you,” you mumbled back. the kiss grew more passionate before you both pulled away, breathless. “

“i’m sorry,” he said, pulling you into him, your face pressing against the wet fabric of his shirt. “just want you,” you hiccuped, tears falling down your face now. “i’m not leaving,” spike reassured you.

the rain cascaded over your bodies, the memories of a past love washing away along with it. as the sky cleared, the moon marked the creation of new memories. new love blossomed with the dew.

#cowboy bebop smut #cowboy bebop imagine #cowboy bebop fic #cowboy bebop x reader #spike smut #spike imagine #spike fic #spike x reader #spike spiegel smutt #spike spiegel imagine #spike spiegel fic #spike spiegel x reader #smut #imagine

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triplexdoublex · 3 years

Text

Sex Drive

Pairing: Colson x reader

Warnings/tags: rough sex, hair pulling, name calling, chokeholds, gagging, jealousy, anal play.

Part 2 here

You knew the minute you let your eyes wander from Colson to Rook is the dressing area backstage before the show that you were in trouble. Rook knew it too, quickly tugging his shirt over his head when he caught you staring; your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. He knew how jealous Colson could get, and you did too but you didn’t care. You secretly loved how flustered it would make him and thoroughly enjoyed your ‘punishments’. You could practically feel the jealous rage in his voice while he performed tonight; each word a little harsher and anger-filled than the last.

*******

The second Colson walks back into the dressing area after the show you can tell you’re going to get exactly what you want. He stomps angrily towards you and reaches for your throat, his thumb, and middle finger squeezing tightly around your pulse points.

“I thought we talked about you keeping your little whore eyes to yourself,” he grits through his teeth.

“Colson I’m —-” you start before he cuts you off.

“I’m a little whore, is that what you're gonna say? You wanna act like a whore, I can treat you like a whore. Is that what you want?

“Maybe,” you look up at him with lust glazed puppy dog eyes.

“I ain’t fuckin’ playin,’’ he warns, tightening his grip, causing you to inhale sharply, which catches the attention of the crew.

“Annnnnd that’s our cue to leave,” Slim jokes. "C’mon dudes, let’s get outta here before these two start fuckin’ again,” he calls to the rest of the team.

“Uhh Colson, Fuck me,” “Yes...yes. Oh my god Colson,” Slim and Rook taunt immaturely in a high pitched feminine tone on their way out the door, mocking the many times they’ve overheard the two of you. Baze just shakes his head and laughs smacking both of them on the back of the head as they exit.

“Get your ass in the shower, hands against the wall, you know how I want you,” Colson orders, releasing you from his grasp with a shove. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

You smile discretely to yourself on the way to the shower knowing everything is going according to your plan. You also know that you could always simply just ask for it and Colson would be more than happy to oblige, giving you the roughest sex your body could handle, but it was more fun this way, watching him get so riled up, and so possessive that every thrust of his hips seemed to say “MINE”.

Colson walks to the exit and securely locks the door. He passes a half-smoked blunt laying in the ashtray on the way to the shower. He stops to light it up, taking a few puffs before finally heading to you.

Once in the bathroom he quickly strips off his clothes and joins you in the shower, already half-hard at the thought of you waiting for him as he requested. And that’s just how he finds you; hands pressed up against the wall opposite the showerhead, water cascading over your curves.

“Aye, look what we got here, ya do know how to listen,” he sneers, stepping into the shower behind you. “Ah, God damn! Why y’all females always put the water so damn hot, I swear y’all are some demons,’’ he curses, adjusting the temperature. “Now where were we?” he rasps in your ear, firmly gripping the back of your neck with the long, slender fingers of his left hand. His lips embark on a hungry descent down the side of your throat, making you arch into their touch. He wedges a knee between your thighs giving each of them a rough nudge, widening your stance, and granting his free hand better access to you. “Sloppy, wet cunt!” his tongue lashes against the shell of your ear as he runs his fingers through your folds. “MMMmm this all from me?” he questions nipping at the soft part of your lobe while trading his fingers for his cock, thrusting into you with urgency. “I said, this from ME?!” he questions again bringing his arousal soaked fingers to your lips. “Open, slut, and answer me,” he says snapping his hips forward.

“Ye —” to try to answer, Colson’s fingers interrupting your words and making you gag.

“Taste yourself, bitch,” he grits through his teeth, pumping his fingers in and out of your throat, as you choke, and sputter.

He retracts his fingers slightly, hooking them over the teeth of your bottom jaw, his other hand sliding up from the back of your neck to grip you by your hair. Using your hair as leverage, he yanks it back with every forward propulsion of his pelvis. The sound of your wet bodies slapping together echoes throughout the shower drowning out his grunts, moans, and your pleasure-filled hum around his fingers. He removes his fingers from your mouth and shoves your face and body flush against the wall, the cold tile making your nipples perk as he fucks you up against it. You try to sneak one of your hands between your body and the wall to give you throbbing clit some attention, but Colson catches you, snatching up your wrist.

“Lemme take care of that,” he says slyly, pulling you back away from the wall. With one arm he reaches for the removable shower head, his other arm wrapping around your neck in a chokehold keeping your back tight to his chest as his hips keep pounding away. He quickly adjusts the showerhead to the pulse setting and holds it between your legs.

“Oh my, FUCK!” you cry out, cumming almost instantly. “Colson!” you whine, trying to push the showerhead away.

“I’m not fucking done with you yet!” he growls against your neck, repositioning the showerhead, keeping it perfectly aimed at your throbbing clit. It pulses repeatedly against the sensitive bud in rhythm with Colson’s relentless cock. The pleasure is almost too much to handle your legs beginning to wobble as yet another orgasm begins to brew in your abdomen. Just as it’s about to peak, Colson drops the showerhead and momentarily pulls out, spinning you around. He grabs you by your backside, lifts you up, and re-enters you as you wrap your legs around him. “MMmmgghhh” this ass,” his groans giving it a hardy smack, his fingers then finding their way between your cheeks. He slips his middle and ring finger in your ass, loving the way he’s able to feel his cock inside you like this. And you love it too, all your holes feeling so full at once. He continues to work both your holes until he feels your legs start to quake around his hips as you climax. And he’s right there with you, spilling inside of you a few moments later, struggling to hold you up as his knee-weakening orgasm takes over.

**********************

“Get what you wanted?” Rook teases later on when you're all hanging out, causing you to blush.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Colson questions, looking from you to the boys.

“Dude!,” Slim, starts with a laugh. “It means she only acts like a hoe to get you going. Bitch just wants some rough sex. How you haven’t figured that out yet?”

“Is that true? Colson looks at you angrily.

“Kinda,” you smile, “You two are gonna get me in trouble!” You exclaim in laughter, pointing to Rook and Slim.

“Nah, baby. You getting yourself in trouble.” Colson quips. “And don’t think I’m gonna be fucking you this time either. You ain't getting my dick in that pussy for a month now. How’s that for punishment?”

“Man, who you kiddin?” Slim cracks up. “With your sex drive, you’ll be back in that pussy TONIGHT!”

“Nah, my dick will be in that mouth tho. I’m still getting mine she just aint gettin’ hers.”

*********

Part 2 here

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun Kelly fanfic #colson baker #colson baker smut #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker x reader #mgk smut #mgk fanfic #mgk #colson baker fanfic #EST #XX

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babygirl-diaz · 3 years

Note

how about this tho -- bucky and sam are in heavy denial about how stupid gone they are for each other. and it's mostly bucky's fault :) cue like a bucky barnes from another time or better yet another timeline landing in theirs, and they gotta get him back home. but the other bucky barnes makes all the right moves on sam. makes him laugh, makes him smile, compliments him head to toe -- just easily expresses everything that the real bucky wants to say. bucky barnes being jealous of himself poor bb

(Wrote something based on this. Hope you like it, anon! Sorry it's a bit different from you prompt)

***

Bucky couldn’t sleep. The thoughts of Sam invaded his mind, like they often did these days, keeping him awake in the middle of the night. He thought about that beautiful face, that gorgeous smile… that hot body and that sexy ass that was just begging to be grabbed. Fuck.

But Bucky couldn’t make a move on the other guy because he was the only friend he had, and he didn’t want to lose him. So he was forever doomed to suffer through his schoolboy crush.

Bucky sighed and closed his eyes to finally get some sleep when a sound caught his attention. He was out of his bed before the knock on his door. He knew none of his enemies would knock before they burst into his apartment, but he still got the gun from the side table and took it with him. Pressing the muzzle to the door, he left the chain on as he peeked out of the door. But his eyes widened and his jaw dropped when he saw the person on the other side and the gun almost slipped from his hand.

“What the fuck…” he said incredulously. Standing before Bucky was his mirror image. Well, not exactly his mirror image, but close. He looked a little older than Bucky, was rough around the edges, his beard was slightly thicker, his brown hair was longer, and his eyes were brown instead of blue.

“I know how this looks,” the man said in a gruff voice. It sounded how Bucky would sound if he smoked. “Okay, maybe I don’t know how this looks. But could you please remove the gun from the door and let me in?”

“How did you--” Bucky asked but was interrupted.

“I am you.” The man replied.

Bucky had to be dreaming. This was some lucid dream. He had a powerful urge to pinch himself, but instead, he lowered his gun and stepped aside, letting the other man into the apartment.

“Thanks,” the man said offhandedly.

“Care to explain what’s going on here?” Bucky asked, closing the door behind them.

“I will once I figure it out myself…” the other man replied.

“Well, you’re— you— you look like me.” Bucky said, staring at the other man. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t just look like you, dumbass. Like I said, I am you.” Okay, this man had no manners whatsoever.

“How can there be two of us? Wait, a second…” something hit Bucky. “Hydra… are they back? Did they send you?” He took the gun and pointed it right between the other man’s eyes.

“Hey, whoa, man, chill. I don’t work for Hydra.”

“Then who are you and where did you come from?” Bucky unlocked the safety of the gun and got closer to the other man.

“I keep telling you, asshole, I am you. What part of that is hard to grasp?” The other man asked. He suddenly looked more frustrated than scared. “As for where I am from… that’s hard to explain but let’s just say that I am not from this universe-- your universe.”

“What?” Bucky let the gun down once again. “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“Do you want me to write it in dumbass and hand it to you?”

Bucky again had the urge to shoot this man. “Can’t you talk without swearing?”

“Why? Does it make you uncomfortable, princess?”

“You are such an asshole. How can you possibly be me?” Bucky asked. “I need to think…” He started pacing the floor, wondering what the fuck was he going to do. He stopped in his tracks when he remembered something. “Wait… how did you know where to find me?”

“I live in the same apartment in my universe. Except mine isn’t so…” he looked around and made a face. “--so clean and I have a cat.”

“A cat?” Bucky asked, surprised.

“Yes, fluffy little creatures, perky ears, long tails… You got those in your universe?”

Bucky threw his hands up. “Of course we have cats in our universe. I am just surprised that I would want anything to do with one.”

“What? You a catphobe?”

“That’s not even a thing..” Bucky scoffed. “And by the way, we’re derailing from the point. How did you get here?”

“Hell if I know,” the other man shrugged. “One second I am passed out drunk in my apartment and then the next thing I know I wake up in a strange-looking Brooklyn.”

“You can get drunk?” Bucky asked, surprised. The other Bucky had the bionic arm, even if it was old-fashioned. Then he had to have Bucky’s powers, too.

“It was with Thor. He brought out his special Asgardian liquor, and we got hammered,” the other man explained. “Pun fully intended.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at him and started pacing again. “I can’t do this alone. I need help.” He said, more to himself than the other man.

“Who are you calling?” The other man asked when Bucky picked up his phone to call.

“Sam.”

***

Sam looked exhausted when he arrived at Bucky’s doorstep, and Bucky hated to admit it, but his half asleep state and his grumpy face made him look kinda cute. Okay. Right. Focus Buck.

“What’s so urgent that you asked me to take the first flight here?”

“Okay, so don’t freak out…” Bucky said, putting his hands out in front of him.

“You telling me to not freak out is freaking me out, Buck.” Sam sidestepped Bucky and into the apartment. “So what is it?”

“You have to see it to believe it,” Bucky told him as he led him to the bedroom. He slowly opened the door, and the first thing to hit his ears was the sound of snoring.

“What the hell?!” Sam screeched, causing the other Bucky to practically fall off the bed in his haste to get up. “That’s--” Sam looked between the other Bucky and Bucky, before rushing out to the living room.

Bucky went after him and tried to touch his shoulder, but Sam shrugged him away. “What is going on? Who is that?”

“He’s apparently me,” Bucky explained. “From another universe.”

Sam blinked at Bucky before bursting out laughing. “He’s you. From another universe? Good one, Buck!”

When Bucky didn’t laugh along, Sam’s laughter died down. “You’re not joking.”

“No, he’s not.” Bucky turned around to find the other Bucky standing behind them in nothing but his boxers. “Hey, Sam,” the man tilted his head to the side and offered Sam a smirk.

Sam looked at him from top to bottom, making Bucky frown.

“Hi… Bucky?” Sam greeted him unsurely. “This is really freaky…”

“You’re telling me,” Bucky mumbled.

“H- how did you get to this universe?” Sam asked the other Bucky.

The other Bucky walked over to Sam and stopped a little too close to him. “I have no idea, sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?” Bucky and Sam asked at the same time and looked at each other.

“What? You don’t like it?” The other Bucky lowered his voice even more.

Sam cleared his throat and shook his head at that. “No, that- that’s fine.”

“Well, doll, I gotta say, you are hot.”

Bucky’s breath suddenly became shallow, and his hands tightened into fists beside him. How dare this man call Sam hot? Yes, Sam was hot. Really hot. But this man had no right to call him that.

“Oh, wow.” Sam chuckled nervously and bit down on his lips. “Thanks, man. You aren’t bad looking yourself. Love the rough around the edges look ya got going on.”

“Why, thanks, baby,” the other Bucky winked at him.

Bucky had enough of the other Bucky’s flirting, and he put himself between him and Sam. “Can we get back to the important part? How do we get you back home?”

The other Bucky dropped on the couch and put his arms behind his head. “No clue. I don’t even know how I got here in the first place.”

“We need help, Buck. This is way above our paygrade.”

Bucky agreed with Sam. This wasn’t a problem they could solve on their own. “Should we ask Dr. Strange for help?”

“It’s worth the try-”

“So you got the wizard over here too?” The other Bucky chimed in.

A broad smile spread across Sam’s lips. “THANK YOU!” Sam said a little too loudly. “Glad someone else agrees that he’s a wizard.” He raised his hand to high five with the other, Bucky, who enthusiastically returned the five. “By the way, we need a name for you. Can’t call you Bucky. It will be too confusing.”

“You can call me darling if you like, doll,” the other Bucky started flirting again. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Sam nervously chuckled at that again, “While I love that suggestion, I think I will go with James.”

“Shame,” the other Bucky-- James pouted. He actually pouted.

Sam sat down beside James and James immediately moved closer to him much to Bucky’s chagrin. “What’s the last thing you remember?” Sam asked.

“I remember going to bed drunk last night and then waking up here this morning.”

“How did you know you were in a different universe?” Bucky asked, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Everything felt wrong…”

Bucky and Sam looked at each other before Sam asked, “That can’t be the only thing, James.”

James sighed. “I’ve been sent to a different universe before.”

“You have?” Asked Bucky.

“Yeah… It just feels different when you’re in a different universe. It’s really hard to explain. You know how when you go to a different country and the wind suddenly doesn’t feel right? It’s like that except dialed up to 100.”

“So universe hopping isn’t anything new to you?” Bucky asked with an edge in his voice. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

“Didn’t wanna freak ya out, dumbass,” James replied.

“Do you have to call me that?”

Sam looked up at him and chuckled, making Bucky frown even more.

“So, sweetheart, you got a lady or fella in your life?” James threw his bionic arm around Sam’s shoulder and pulled him closer.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to remove his arm and strangle him.

Sam threw a quick glance at Bucky before replying, “I’m single.”

“Nahhh… that can’t be true. A handsome fella like you doesn’t have anyone in his life. It’s impossible.”

“Are you always this flirty?” Sam asked him instead.

“Only around someone as sexy as you.” James leered at Sam like he wanted to eat him up.

Sam chuckled and looked down at the floor.

Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He was practically in love with Sam and couldn’t do anything about it. Yet, here was another version of him, touching him and openly flirting with him.

“Sam! Let’s go. We should go talk to Dr. Strange.” Bucky grabbed Sam’s arm and pulled him up.

Sam threw him an annoyed look and pulled his arm out of Bucky’s grip. “Fine! Let’s go.”

“What do I do?” James asked.

Bucky threw him an annoyed look. “You stay here and watch tv or something. We’ll be back soon.”

#SamBucky #TFATWS #fanfiction #ask

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garbagevanfleet · 3 years

Text

Brightest Blue (series)

PART SIX

Pairing: Josh x reader Warnings: major marijuana usage!! Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: say hello to your new potential love interest - he’s cute, no? let’s see how he compares.

As always, if you see @lantern-inthenight, tell her thank you for being the very best editor.

taglist: @valleyd0ll @satingrass-maidensfair @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @peaceisouranthem @oblvions @hansonobsessed @myownparadise96 @lara-gvf @anditsmywholeheart @kill-fear-the-power-of-lies @bigblack-catattack

On Monday it had dusted snow, but tragically, it had happened while you were in class. You hadn’t even known until you were leaving campus and had seen the lightest coating left on some spots of the grass by the treeline.

When you got back to the apartment, Josh was already there, stirring a huge pot of something on the stove. The room smelled like a restaurant.

“Josh, oh my god, it snowed and I missed it!” you exclaimed, tossing your jacket over the back of the chair.

He paused what he was doing to look up at you and chuckled. “Don’t worry, I promise that’s not the last time.”

“What are you making?” you asked, padding across the linoleum to peer over his shoulder.

“Vegetarian chili,” he answered, lifting a wooden spoon to your face. You blew on it for a moment before taking a taste. “It needs something, but I can’t figure out what.”

“I think it’s perfect,” you replied and meant it, suddenly excited to have a bowl of it.

He hummed at you. “Thanks, but it’ll be a while before it’s done.”

You watched as he swiped the scraps from vegetables from the cutting table into the compost bucket.

“You want to watch a movie tonight?” he asked.

You frowned back at him. “I wish I could, but I’ve got a lot of work to do on my presentation. I’m supposed to be reading it to the class in like two days.”

“Alright,” he agreed, just a shade on the solemn side. There was one thing you knew for sure, and it was that there was a lot you would endure to make sure you didn’t have to see him looking sad.

“I think I can still concentrate on it if I sit with you during a movie.”

He laughed under his breath at your bargain. “It’s okay, you can work in your room instead if you’d like. Or, you can have the living room and I’ll keep to my bedroom.”

You scowled at him and pointedly replied, “Don’t be stupid, Joshua. Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I’m going to work on my paper until dinner time, then we can watch a movie.”

“I’ll take that deal.” He reached out and took your hand, shaking it once in a faux professional manner.

“But, that means I have to work all night on it tomorrow,” you warned, looking directly into his eyes.

He just grinned back mischievously.

+++

“So, what happened?” you prompted, dipping a spoon into a cup of strawberry yogurt. Kate peeked up at you over the rim of her cup, crunching a piece of ice as she set it back down on the cafeteria table.

You had been expecting Josh to join you for lunch, but you’d gotten a text telling you that he had to bail to work on production stuff and he’d see you later. You had been a bit disappointed, but you had to admit that you envied his dedication. Plus, you had Kate to keep you company.

She poured more of her Diet Cherry Coke from the bottle into the cup of ice as she talked. “Not much, honestly.” She looked like she was going to continue until her gaze caught on something over your shoulder.

You were just about to turn your head to find what she was looking at when she spoke again abruptly, making you halt all movement. “Don’t look, but there’s a guy by the vending machine that keeps looking at you.”

You gave her a surprised look. “Oh, what does he look like?”

“He’s kinda handsome - short blonde hair, probably a little taller than you, a little shorter than me.” She paused, fiddling with the cap of her soda bottle as he snuck peeks at him from across the room. “Okay, quick look.”

You chanced a glance over your shoulder and hummed as you turned back to her. “I think I’ve seen him around. I don’t really know him though,” you stated. “Are you sure he’s not looking at you?”

She huffed amusedly at you. “Pretty sure he’s not.”

“Ooh, speaking of,” you started, reaching out and nabbing one of the waffle fries off of her plate and popping it into your mouth. “Have you been texting Jake?”

“Not really.” A scarlet-colored smile was forming on her lips.

“Does that mean yes?” you pressed when you realized that was all the information she was going to give you.

She shrugged at you, already collecting the remainder of her lunch to toss away with a cheeky look.

It wasn’t until your last class that you realized where you’d seen that boy before, and embarrassingly, it wasn’t until he was already sitting next to you.

You glanced over at him, trying not to look too surprised.

“Hey, do you care if I take this spot today?” he asked, seemingly knowing what your answer would be. You kind of wanted to say no, just to prove him wrong.

“Yeah, sure,” you agreed sweetly instead.

“I hope this isn’t weird, but I saw you at Bennie’s party on Saturday and I guess I just wanted to formally introduce myself. I’m Trevor.”

He held out an open palm for you to take, and you cautiously did. “It’s nice to meet you.”

He looked pleased that this was going as smoothly as he had clearly intended - not that he was lacking confidence, but something about his facial posture told you he had expected you to give him a hard time.

“So, I’m not going to lie, this is partly because you seem to be really good at this class, but would you like to study together sometime? We could maybe get coffee after class.”

You looked at him for a silent beat before replying. “What’s the other part of the reason?”

“You seem nice, and I think you’re very pretty,” he said honestly, giving you a smile.

You mirrored it back to him with a nod. “Coffee sounds nice.”

+++

You had made it a point to message Kate, telling her exactly where you were and who you were with, and you had texted Josh, telling him you’d be back in a couple of hours.

Trevor was nice and somewhat funny. He seemed a little intellectually shallow, but you couldn’t actually judge that from an hour and a half long hang out in a coffee shop.

When you got back to your apartment and checked your phone, you had six messages from Kate.

Oh i’m kinda shocked

Good for you tho

Is he cuter up close?

Are you guys actually studding

*studying

i’m going to ask around and see if anyone knows anything about him

You snickered to yourself as you were reading them, before quickly typing back, let me know what you find out tomorrow.

You were greeted by an empty living room and kitchen, but you could see that Josh’s bedroom light was on, so you headed that way as you shedded your extra layers of clothing.

You knocked on the door frame, though the door was wide open to reveal Josh laying out on his bed with a lit joint between his lips and Penny on his bedside table. Folk music was playing from his laptop in a tinny quality.

He peeked an eye open at the sound of your entrance, greeting you with a smile.

“You’re not falling asleep with a lit spliff, are you?”

“This is my second one,” he replied as if that was supposed to answer your question or quell your concern. “You want some? Or do you want to work on your paper?”

You ran your teeth over your bottom lip. “I finished my paper in class today. My professor gave us the whole period to work on it.”

He perked up then. “I can’t help but notice that wasn’t a no.” And after a pause he finished, “And congratulations - I’m proud of you.”

You gave him an awkward thumbs up that he promptly barked a laugh at.

“You wanna?”

“I’ve never smoked before,” you reminded him like it might change his mind.

“C’mere. I’ll help you.”

You held a finger up at him. “Hang on, I’m going to change. Don’t look at me like that, I don’t want my new sweater to smell like pot, dude.”

You returned back in your pajamas, still nervous, but now comfy. He patted the spot in front of him on his bed, prompting you to clamber on. Once you were situated, you tugged his comforter over your shoulders from where it was bunched up at the bottom of his bed.

“Are you good?” he asked.

You nodded at him, nervous enough that he could sense it.

“I’m going to shotgun you, okay?” He put his hand on your knee for comfort, and you had to admit that the touch helped ground you.

“Okay,” you replied quickly.

“Okay?” he prompted again, looking less convinced.

“What does shotgun mean?” you whispered like it was a secret, making him giggle into his shoulder.

“I’m going to blow the smoke into your mouth. Since it’s your first time, I don’t want you to get super high.”

“Oh. Yeah, that wouldn’t be good,” you agreed.

“Okay, I’m going to take a drag, and you’re going to open your mouth and suck in the smoke when I blow it out.”

You watched him raise the paper to his lips, the cherry turning bright orange as he inhaled. It wasn’t until he leaned forward with a closed mouth that you realized how...intimate the moment was.

You weren’t positive he wasn’t going to press his lips directly to yours until you opened your mouth and pulled in his exhale.

“Hold it in a second if you can,” he instructed, his voice a bit deeper from the smoke.

You did as you were told, grimacing as you exhaled. “It tastes like dirty socks.”

He snorted a laugh, tipping his head back until it was rested against the wall.

“I’m not sure what I expected though, because it also smells like dirty socks,” you continued, prompting his laughing to continue until he was sighing contentedly.

“That’s cute,” he said through a grin. “Innocent.”

You could feel your cheeks warming by the second. You rolled your eyes at him playfully.

“Do you feel anything?” he asked, sitting back up to attend to you.

You shook your head. “Not really,” you admitted.

“You wanna try again? You can just take a hit yourself if you want.”

“Actually could you do it again?” you asked, embarrassed, but not enough so that you were willing to do it alone.

He gave you a grin, lifting the blunt back to his lips, but this time when he leaned forward, the fingers of his right hand found your jawline, pulling you into him too. When he blew the smoke to you, it was just inches from your lips, and this time you drank it in, forcing it deep into your lungs and holding it there.

It started to hit you moments after you exhaled it - this pleasant, warm feeling.

“Hang on,” you said excitedly, throwing the blanket off of you as you scrambled to get off the bed. When you returned you had a little speaker and your phone. The playlist that the two of you had collaborated on for cleaning days started playing, and even though he was laying out flat on his bed, you could see his lips turn up into a smile.

You laid next to him, resting your head on his arm and giving a pleasant sigh.

“What’s it feel like?” he asked, a rasp behind the words. He lolled his head to the side to look at you.

“Warm and fuzzy. Kinda like being in love or seeing a really cute kitten. But also kinda like being on a sailboat in the middle of...I don’t know, some European sea. I can’t think of a single one right now if I’m being honest though.”

When you met his eyes, he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Damn, that’s awesome.”

He sat up on his elbow and reached past you to grab something from his nightstand. You were going to look and see what it was, but staring at the little speckles of plaster on his ceiling was suddenly the best thing you’d ever experienced.

“Do you always wear cologne?” you asked, suddenly unsure if you were talking really slowly or if your brain just couldn’t process the sound on time.

“Usually.” When you were able to look over at him, he had a bag of Tootsie Pops by his side, one of the sticks hanging out of his mouth. “You want one?”

You agreed by holding out your hand, letting him give you whatever flavor chance had picked for you.

He had unwrapped it already, which you thanked him for as the flavor of grape hit your tongue.

“What flavor did you get?” you asked, turning over so you could lay on your stomach, head propped up by your hands.

“Cherry,” he replied through a smile, opening his mouth to show you after he asked, “Is my tongue red?”

You giggled at him. “Yeah, it definitely is.”

There was a long, comfortable pause, but you were in no state to determine how long it lasted.

“I went on a date today.” It came out like an admission, despite your efforts to keep the statement casual.

He had an impressed look on his face ”Oh, yeah? With who?”

He sat up with what looked like some effort until he was sitting cross-legged. You breathed a laugh, casting your eyes to the pendant of his necklace where it rested against his sternum.

“This guy, Trevor.”

The shocked smile he gave you felt a little surreal in your state. “I didn’t know you even knew any other people here.”

“I actually met him today,” you admitted.

“And you went on a date with him?” And before you could answer, he continued. “How did it go?”

“It wasn’t really a date, per se. We just had coffee,” you informed. “And, actually, I even bought my own. “

He raised his eyebrows at you until you realized he wanted you to answer the other part of his question.

“Oh, it was okay. I liked him.”

“Was he kind to you?” he asked, keeping his expression level.

You nodded. “Yeah, he was. He offered to get my coffee, but I didn’t want him to think he was like. Doing me some big favor, you know?”

Josh huffed a laugh. “That sounds about right. Sounds like you.”

“We made plans for him to come over on Thursday and study.”

Josh tossed the stick of his sucker across the room, landing it perfectly in the little trash can by his door. “Would you like me to be gone for that?”

You frowned at nothing in particular. “Two things. One, how did you just make that shot? I can’t even move. And two, no, why would I want you to go?”

He shrugged, popping another sucker into his mouth. “I’m full of surprises, you’ve just gotta stick around.”

“Well, I live here so I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” The way you had muttered made him smirk at you. “But no, you obviously don’t have to leave while he’s here. Actually, I’d prefer if you didn’t - I don’t know him very well.”

Josh looked up at you through his lashes for a moment. “Then I’ll be here.”

The both of you hung out on his bed for an indiscernible amount of time, and not once did you ever feel less high. You had intended to get up and brush your teeth, but it didn’t happen, and there was nothing you could do about it. Your eyelids started to feel heavier than you could ever remember them being - like something had ahold of your leg and was dragging you down into sleep.

The last thing you could recall was the sound of Josh’s smoked-out voice, quietly humming along to the chorus of a song and the visualization of the sound behind your eyes, sweeping back and forth between notes.

#brightest blue fic #josh kiszka #josh kiszka fic #josh gvf fic #josh gvf #Greta Van Fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet fan fiction

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unknowconcreteflower-art-blog-me · 4 years

Text

Re-contextualizing Angel Dust: Charlie was not ready for this...

And for the sake of warning Hazbin Hotel is an adult cartoon containing heavy dark subject matter (such as rape and drug abuse, that maybe trigger to views so please tread carefully. Warning out of the way on with the post! I also just wanna get this out there older post my analysis of Val and Angel people kept commenting “what Angel Dust isn’t in love with Valentino” and my rebuttal was “no no that’s a past Angel Dust a younger one who didn’t reach that level of abuse just yet” while their argument was “no it’s the current Angel Dust” which can’t be the case. To prove my point I would like to refer back to the comics and the music video and looking at it with the context of the show. And please read my previous post if you want more explanation on Addict.

I just want to start off with explaining his relations to Cherri, needless to say Cherri is someone who Angel sees as a true friend and confines in her. And she is there for him as he is for her even willing to fight for her knowing well that he will get in trouble for it. Though one has to wonder why is there such this deep love and care for each other. Looking back to Addict, where we have Cherri singing her “Yeah you fell in love and you fell deeper in this pit...” and several times we have an unknown character pop up during her part of the song. With the little snip bits of info we get from the sequence we can tell that Cherri is in the line of work because of someone who’s over her head. And what they have over is an emotional hold over her if we want to lean in on what the lyrics it might in a romantic sense be we still don’t know who it is tho. So what makes this so important to Angel Dust.

This is because she herself is in the similar situation as Angel as in the both of us are trapped in the holes we dug ourselves into. Giving Angel someone who can understand the stuff he’s going through. Cherri knows why he’s acting out because he’s just trying to hide how hurt he really is cause” hey so does she”. And knows she doesn’t have to say anything but just be there; and takes him out on a night out with her when he’s down. That’s why Cherri is so important to him she’s someone he know that’s not going to look down on him or patronize him on his actions. And his number 1# go to person; which is why he probably reveal to her that he wants to get clean because hey that’s what binds them together... This connects why he broke streak and his stopped his sobriety.

During the opening scene of the show we have Valentino texting Angel to do work right after the extermination. Which I also have to point out that Val showing a lack of care for Angel safety after the extermination. He clearly wants his money and is making Angel put himself out there for work. And what does he do after he’s done with the job; he falls back on drugs. Now this is important to note... remember during the News broadcast Charlie confirmed that Angel was clean for 2 weeks before all of this happened! He was doing so well what could have possibly made him break his streak-Valentino.

People were theorizing Val gave drugs to his employees meaning Val isn’t only his pimp but supplier as well! Giving the reason why Angel stayed with Val for so long; when I did my analysis of the music video Addict I said Val maybe the first one to find Angel when he first came to hell. Manipulating Angel in a weakened state to view him as a sort of savior and made him forget his sorrows and how did this happen you may ask... “drugs” using sweet words to mask his hidden agenda. So Val basically trained hims like a dog on a leash in a sense of “you’ll get a love & affection with a treat” which translates to “if you do this job for me I’ll give you all the love you were denied when you were alive as along with the drugs you’ve been craving”. I will argue that Val made Angel even more dependent on drugs; because he made it his number one coping method he’s the enabler. After Angel was assaulted and raped by Valentino probably made it even worse for him because Val’s his boss, he goes to work he has to see him... triggering him to fall back on to drugs. That’s why Angel needs his drugs and needs to numb himself, so him breaking his streak clean after taking a job from Val wasn’t coincidence back then.

“he’a been behaved, clean and out of trouble for 2 weeks now” until Val got to him...

This makes Val even more dangerous to Angel’s road to recovery than we could have ever imagined. No only that but it makes it difficult to tell someone about it as well Angel is afraid of him and has to stay in contact with him since he’s his employer. This would be good time to bring up my rebuttal for my case of Addict: I get. I identified that the Angel Dust in the beginning of the music video is a younger one that still has some love for before figured out he was using him and he stood up to Val (pre-trauma). And the Angel Dust at the end credits of the music video and the one in the comic is the current Angel Dust and show (post-trauma). When you look at the interactions with Val (via comic vs music video) they are clearly different hence the two different Angel Dusts!

I will be referring to the comics in this section so if you haven’t read them please do.

When Angel is in the limo with Val he’s trying to make it very apparent that he’s upset that he’s not getting any attention from Val. Being very huffy and puffy not even looking at him as Val’ counting his money, forgetting that he’s right there. This is very important because Angel doesn’t hesitate to hide his emotions, this Angel is willing to show discontentment in front of Val being angry and annoyed at him which leads up to why he doesn’t kiss want him and outright rejects him. He shows he’s willing to fight back against Val’s mistreatment and neglect of him, becoming more aware of it. In my earlier post I deduced this scene is where Angel first time he’s disobeyed Val and finally gets the full picture he understands he doesn’t mean anything to Val and he’s using him. He’s no longer willing to put up with his mind games anymore and probably would have left Val that night... which is why he raped him to gain control over Angel.

Music video vs. Comic scene

Now looking at the interactions Angel Dust has with Val are completely different he’s submissive to Valentino when we see his conversation in the limo. Not only that but it shows why Angel Dust went on that drug deal for Val; to show him he can do something else other than being a sex-worker. Angel wants out and this was his way of giving himself another option but Val shuts it down completely! Even before he entires, he’s holding his arm in fear and discomfort, even when he’s trying to plead his case he is terrified. He’s no longer willing to fight back because of what Val did to him. And Val reminds him constantly that he could do it again if he wanted to by reminding him of that night! He does this by grabs Angel face when he tries to explain himself, like he did when he forced Angel to kiss. Val forces him to smiles when he leaves the limo he wants him to never show any form of disagreement or disobedience like the last time because that’s what got him in trouble last. To add more salt in the wound he makes him Angel call him “Mister Valentino” reminding him he’s in control! The man is practical holding a gun over Angel saying “the same thing will happen, if you disobey me again...” AND THAT IS SADISTIC AS HELL! It making me hate Val even more and after he leaves the limo all he can do is let out his anger in silence as when he smokes similar to when we see him smoke at the end credits to Addict this Angel is our current Angel Dust. This is his way of expressing his sorrow in silence why he’s an addict.

So you maybe asking how does Cherri bomb come into play, well I don’t think after the initial incident with Val who does Angel confine to Cherri and destroy a bar together. You see the pattern; Angel has a break down, uses his drugs comes off of the high, he goes to Cherri and in turn go out, and have fun well her kind of destructive fun! And it has been confirmed that he learn all about weapons from Cherri so basically this is the reason why! He wasn’t breaking his clean streak “to do his girl buddy a solid” he went because he wanted to be with the only person who could understand him at that time. And she just happened to be in a fight and he jumped in thinking “oh my home girl’s in trouble I gotta help her out...” and that’s probably did out of instinct to protect Cherri. Charlie and Vaggie cut in... now things start to get a little dicey I’m not trying to attack them but they didn’t handle it this best way. They didn’t know anything, and before know Angels story a lot of people are upset with Angel’s action but now that we have context they’re (Charlie & Vaggie) in the wrong.

These are the points of why Angel cannot confine to Charlie or Vaggie, I will also argue that they pushed Angel further from them. Angel is someone who’s very prideful and isn’t going to tell someone that he’s hurt. Unless they figure it out for themselves or feels safe with them (Cherri). Looking back Vaggie & Charlie made a huge “No-No...” and this scene is incredibly painful to watch. Let’s cut to Vaggie how does she address Angel by scolding him for his actions she goes right to the blame game, which is the last thing she should be doing if they really want to help Angel. They don’t even take the chance to ask him why he did it; unintentionally isolating him from help.

What bother me is that Vaggie is quick to call Angel’s actions are a result of being “selfish” which is not the case now that we have context. And probably why Angel just kept trying to piss off Vaggie because he knows that his actions weren’t out of wanting be “selfish”... and makes it clear that he still wants to go clean. It probably actually really hurt him to when she said that and I’d like to point out that people who struggle with addiction it’s not easy to stay clean and people can relapse. Basically what Vaggie did was shamed Angel for relapsing which is not okay and paints him as a bad guy immediately! To say he ruined the image of the hotel ... it made me furious at Vaggie putting all the blame on Angel. And we know that’s not the case even before the fight was broad casted the demons and sinners in Hell were already laughing at Charlie’s idea and let’s be honest it was reasonable. Because WE DON’T KNOW IF IT’S POSSIBLE YET so putting all the blame on Angel Dust was uncalled if anything it’s just the cherry on top. I’m not trying to attack Charlie but she really doesn’t know what she’s doing she doesn’t know how to send a soul into heaven. Is it irresponsible to broadcast a client before they are proven successful, not only that but it puts a lot of pressure on Angel to prove theory that we’re not sure is true yet.

And let’s be honest did Charlie really believe Vaggie’s word’s wouldn’t but hurtful they didn’t even take the time to ask him why he did it; immediately writing him off when clearly somethings going on now she’s painting the image that they don’t care about him, they just care about the hotel, and that they just wanted to use him as a poster boy! Hmm... now who has used Angel Dust in the past for their own personal agenda... oh yeah VALENTINO! Which is why he goes on saying “I made you look sad and pathetic...” he chooses those words not to just make Vaggie mad but that’s probably what he was really feeling on the inside. Angel really did want to apologize to Charlie but after what Vaggie said to him it probably made him feel like his apology meant nothing and leaves these actions carry on into Addict. This is where naivety is her biggest downfall she rushed into it thinking just keeping Angel clean is gonna redeem him she was so not ready to broad cast the hotel. She makes it sound easy but it so much harder than that!

THIS WAS A 100% CALLED FOR! AND SHE DOESN”T EVEN REALIZE IT!

This is why Angel flips off Charlie and doesn’t want to talk to her, he’s basically doing cause “Why should I tell you about my problems you don’t really care you just care about your hotel...” that’s why this is so important to highlight. They already gave him that impression, that they think little of him and that they aren’t going sympathize with him but scold him. And Charlie should have stopped Vaggie yelling when she had the chance. Vaggie sabotaged her chance to understand Angel Dust and help him. And did she really think her temperamental girlfriend was the one to help sympathize and redeem sinners. If she really wants to help Angel Dust she needs to stop thinking it’s gonna be a cupcake walk, people have reasons why they fall to these bad habits; people have issues, relationships, traumas, that they need to navigate before they can heal. Which makes me believe that Charlie isn’t the one who’s going to get Angel Dust to open up to them about his trauma. Vaggie’s out of the question if not then who...

HUSKER

Yup our favorite flying poker kitty... I’ll do a separate post on that because it deserves it’s own explanation! (Side note I really do love Vaggie we don’t know her story so don’t hate her) Hope you guys enjoy the post~

#hazbin hotel #angel dust #valentino #hazbin hotel charlie #vaggie #Cherri Bomb #huskerdust #husker #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel addict #vivziepop

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emotionalcello-makefanfics · 3 years

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Disclaimer tho, all my knowledge of the fandom is strictly from fanfic and google. I don't read the comic or watch the anime. I only have some vague knowledge of what's canon or not and making this fanfic has been somewhat of a fever dream.

Tags: Fluff and angst. Attempt at humor. Crying. Probably ooc. No smut, just holding hands and some hugging and some kissing. Shouto smokes, and probably incorrect depictions of smoking. Implied child abuse (you know who). Lowkey Fuyumi bashing.

Warning: In character cussing from explodo boy.

Summary:

They found each other in coinciding vulnerability. Shouto was smoking, Katsuki was crying. Miraculously, no one died. It seems that vulnerability is exactly what they need to get through their respective problems, because vulnerability makes them do the one thing the two boys are allergic to do, opening up.

Or, Shouto and Katsuki cope with each other. It miraculously didn't end in explosions, just a lot of physical affections and crying.

Words: 10.9 k

You don’t have to take life so seriously Shouto! It can be whatever you want to be, it’s yours!

Shouto knocks his head back and parts his lips. White ribbons bleed to the orange sky. The clouds are pretty pink instead of white. The smoke doesn’t blend in with the white clouds anymore like a few hours ago. He taps the amber ash on the portable coffin-shaped ashtray. More than a dozen filter buds crammed there.

He should go back to his room. Any darker then it would be noticeable when goes back to his room. But there’s always that small whisper at the back of his head: Maybe after one more. This spot has been his salvation from overstimulation. It’s the highest building in UA, the rooftop of the dorm. He’s been here for two years and has always been alone.

The door slammed open.

High on nicotine, Shouto passes through shock to immediate acceptance that he’s busted.

Only, he’s not busted. The next sound that came is sobbing. The first thing he sees is awry blond hair and a tear-streaked red face. Soon came the already red blood-shot eyes, staring at him with a sadness that not even in Shouto’s wildest imagination can imagine on Bakugou’s face. It takes a few seconds too long for the default glare and anger to return.

“The fuck are you doing here!” He yells, his voice croaks in a not angry way. Wet and breaking at the pitch.

Shouto, still a bit floaty and relaxed from the nicotine in his system, nor is he yet to register the shock from seeing Bakugou’s tears, just points down towards his fingers.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” his voice is scratchy, a tad bit deeper. He never smoked so many that that happened. Then again, today is a special day.

Seemingly just as shocked, Bakugou seems to still. Shouto expects crackling hands, bared teeth, or maybe a ‘TELL ANYONE AND DIE’, but never that he strides his way and sits on the floor beside Shouto.

“Still have one of those?” Bakugou leans back.

Wordlessly, Shouto digs the last pack from his pocket. There are six left. Bakugou takes one, and Shouto lit a fire on the tip of his thumb towards Bakugou.

“How do you do this?” Bakugou says, eyeing the fire.

“You’ve never done this before?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I have Icyhot! Now fucking tell me already.”

“You put it between your lips, and inhales a bit as you put this corner on the fire.” Shouto crowds him cupping the end of the smoke with his palm and keep the fire controllably small. It feels like Deja Vu, but this time, Shouto is showing someone how to smoke instead.

Bakugou tries, and before Shouto can say to take it slow, Bakugou already choked and doubled over coughing. Shouto pats his back.

“What the fuck was that!” Bakugou roars and grimaces when he sees the stacks of cigarette buds on his ashtray. “How the fuck do you smoke that many!”

Shouto shrugged, “I’m used to it.” He puts out his bud on top of the pile and picks up the mostly one-piece cigarette that Bakugou chucked to the floor and lights it up. He feels eyes on him as he put the filter on his lips and lit it up in one smooth move.

With the cigarette properly lit, he offered, “Wanna try again?”

“No! That shit’s nasty.” Bakugou snarled at the hand holding the smoking cig.

“Suit yourself,” Shouto takes a deep drag and sighs. Surprisingly, Bakugou doesn’t up and leave, and more so that Shouto doesn’t mind the silence.

Alas, it only lasted exactly 33 seconds.

“How the fuck did you get in here!” Bakugou grumbles, “The door was locked.”

“I made ice stairs from my balcony.”

“Like how Elsa did?”

“Exactly like Elsa did, she was my inspiration.”

Bakugou snorts. No sadness left, just a condescending smile, which is better than the ghostly tears in his eyes.

“How did you get in through the locked door?”

“How else would you think?” Bakugou lifts his hand, cradling a small cluster of explosions.

Shouto face palmed, dragging it down.

“What?” Bakugou barks.

“Well when they figured out the door broke then they gonna figure out that someone’s been here, don’t they?”

“That nicotine is already killing your fucking brain cells.”

“That’s not how it’s-”

“Let’s get the fuck outta here before anyone finds us you loon.”

“But I-”

“You’ve burned through enough death sticks, let’s go!” Bakugou grabs his hand and pulls him up.

“Fine fine, let me tidy up.” Shouto could barely close his ashtray with all the buds in it, and he dusted the ashes that drops to the floor.

Shouto already makes the stairs down to his room before looking back at Bakugou, “Want me to drop you to your balcony?”

“I don’t know,” Bakugou narrows his eyes dangerously, “Will it suddenly melts away as I walk on it?”

Shouto huffs, “You have no faith in your favorite sparring partner?”

“The only thing I learned these past couple of years with you being shoved at my face as my sparring partner is that you’re a little shithead.”

Shouto makes the stairs towards Bakugou’s room first, reveling in how badly Bakugou tried to cover his amazement at the stairs.

“Just like Elsa’s, right?”

“You want me to give you Elsa’s number 1 simp trophy?”

Shouto melts Bakugou’s step and lets him fall blond head first into his balcony.

“YOU’LL FUCKING PAY FOR THAT, COCA-COLA SHITHEAD!”

Bakugou roars, and Shouto giggles as he jumps upstairs to his room with explosions fading behind him.

Not until he’s laying in bed that night that he thinks about Bakugou’s tears again. Rest assured, his imagination spiraled to ‘what could it be’ until 4 am.

++++

I don’t understand why your dad wants you to be number one when he should’ve want you to just be happy. Nothing in life really matters unless you’re happy.

Shouto loves everything about living in the dorm, but it has one and only one weakness. He can’t smoke as freely.

His dad knows and just rant about how it’ll affect his performance.

Now, Aizawa knows, and he’s at the principal’s office.

Shouto instantly knows how. Bakugou broke the rooftop door. Iida must’ve found it, reported it to Aizawa-sensei. Maybe his homeroom teacher has magnifying vision too because Shouto could’ve sworn he left no trace.

Yet Shouto can’t find it in him to blame anyone. He knows as an aspiring hero he shouldn’t smoke, those reasons never matter at those desperate times he needed to smoke.

“Tea?” Nezu raises his pot of pink teapot, Shouto narrows his eyes at the paw (how did that paw hold the teacup?)

“Yes, thank you.” The cup is equally pink, with two cheerful yellow flowers on each side. This looks like a tea set Eri had.

Shouto sips the possibly herbal tea, trying to ignore the glare Aizawa-sensei is sending his way from beside Nezu.

“Todoroki, how long have you been smoking?” His sensei’s voice gravels, like he just woke up from bed, his bed hair supports the theory.

Apparently a little mental, Shouto said, “Overall or in school?”

“Both.”

“Started when I was in first-grade junior high school.” As soon as he has any time away from home. “In UA, as soon as I stayed at the dorm.”

“Now, Todoroki,” Nezu put his paws together, “You know someone as young as you shouldn’t smoke. You’re underage, and an aspiring hero on top of that...”

Nezu then continues his PSA on smoking. Nothing Shouto hasn’t heard. Every word goes in the left ear and came out the right. He also isn’t surprised that Aizawa will be taking his stash of cigarettes. It doesn’t suck as much because Shouto doesn’t have a lot left anyway, nor is he been regularly smoking. He smokes when he’s stressed and nothing else could calm him down. He never reached out to the cigs first. The coffin-shaped portable ashtray reminded him that.

As soon as he’s back at the dorm, he’s greeted with a cheerful environment. Half his classmates are hanging in the living room. There’s a group playing Mario Party, a group that’s putting on nail art, and a group that seems to cook something ambitious. Shouto usually joins the group, but not today.

“Todoroki!” Iida comes from the hall, “Aizawa-Sensei came earlier and ran through your room! He seems to confiscate a pack of cigarettes. I’ve tried to tell him that it’s all a misunderstanding-”

“No, it’s mine.”

“Todoroki! At our young age as aspiring heroes we sho-”

“Nope, sorry not today Iida. Good night.”

Todoroki feels a few eyes on his back, but he walks on. With him naturally keeping things to himself, his friends tend to worry but they trust him to reach out to them in his own time. When it gets too long they usually check up on him. Shouto wished they never will.

+++++

You have the power to be whatever you want, but why are you following the wishes of someone you hate? I know he’s your dad, but your life is yours, Shouto.

Shouto’s wish didn’t come true when Bakugou bugs him on the rooftop again two days after he was raided.

It’s Deja Vu, but fewer tears from Bakugou and Shouto isn't a pack and a half deep in cigarettes.

“I fucking know you’d be at my spot again!” Bakugou spat scathingly.

“Excuse you,” Shouto scowls, “I’ve been smoking at this spot since the dorm opens. This is my spot.”

“Well, I’ve been- I’ve been-” Shouto should’ve known that Bakugou would turn red and explodes instead of admitting he’d been caught emoting, “What the fuck are you doing here anyway! You’re doing nothing!”

“No thanks to someone.”

Bakugou narrows his eyes, confused at the implication, but his exploding friend is smart, so he figured it out, and isn’t happy with what he figures out. “The fuck, get your accusing eyes away from me discount Sans, I don’t tattle.”

“No, but you exploded the door which leads to Iida reporting it, which leads to Aizawa inspecting the premises, and him figuring it out that smoked here.”

“That’s just your fucking fault for not covering your trace clean!”

Shouto inhaled indignantly, but then too tired to justify himself. There’s no ending of arguing with Bakugou, and Shouto had learned to choose his battles.

“How about you? How did you get in here?”

“Stole a key from Iida.”

“Are you here to cry again?”

Bakugou’s palms explode, his face an embarrassed flush and teeth bared in anger, “WHOS FUCKING CRYING!!?”

“I have eyes.”

“You’ve been sucking on those death sticks way too much.”

“I wasn’t smoking that type of substance.”

“Whatever, I’m not dealing with this,” Bakugou turns to step away.

“I don’t get it, it’s not a big deal!” Shouto raises his voice a bit, for some reason his heart rate picks up when Bakugou starts leaving. “So what if you sweat through your eyes? Midoriya does it almost every day, sometimes twice a day...”

“Don’t fucking compare me to fucking Deku you fucking fried ice cream!”

“...And Midoriya beat you at this year’s Sports Festival,” Shouto dismissed.

Bakugou grits his teeth, but his eyes watch over Shouto. “Stop stalling and tell me what you want from me,” Bakugou growls.

Shouto’s eyes widen at the sudden honesty, he nibbles on his bottom lips, “Stay here?”

For a second, Bakugou glares at him, but after two years of being his classmate, Shouto can confidently say that they’re friends. He knows Bakugou isn’t angry at him. As to prove his point, Bakugou sits beside him, a bit closer than Shouto expects him to, though still with that permanent scowl. Shouto moves his palms from his pocket, letting go of the aluminum ashtray. Shouto tests the waters and moves closer so their shoulder bumps. No explosions, no snarl, success.

Instantly, Shouto relaxes. Focusing on the pressure of their shoulders, the light shifts Bakugou does (because he can never fully stay still), and the clouds moving. No thought, just being alive.

Alas, no quiet ever lasted long with Bakugou, he expected it though.

“No wonder Aizawa figured it out, this place still stinks of tobacco.”

“It does?” Shouto takes a deep sniff, all he smells is Bakugou’s sweat that always smells sweet because of his quirk. “I didn’t smell anything.”

“Yeah no shit scar head, your nose is probably numb at this point.”

“I don’t smoke that much.”

“Said someone who smoked more than a dozen in one sitting,” Bakugou’s nags turns to worry, “Damn, was it really in one sitting?”

“Is that worry I detected?” Shouto deflects.

Bakugou grits his teeth, “I’m not worried! Go die off lung cancer I don’t fucking care!”

“Good, then, because yes it was, and there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“Fucking hell it’s not! What the actual fuck are your lungs made of? I barely suck it past my throat and I almost coughed out my insides.”

“I missed your dramatics,” Shouto says genuinely, and he waits for an explosion to come. Bakugou doesn’t do well with praises thinly veiled with snark.

It never came, Bakugou watches him closely instead, “Yeah? And who’s fault is that?”

Shouto dared to glare back, but it didn’t last long, he knows the answer. Shouto had come out of his shell nicely, as Momo had put it. He’s still awkward, can’t really quite grasp ‘pop culture’ and how to correctly implied it, but he regularly hangs out with his friends. As of late, he’s noticeably withdrawn. Going straight to his room after class, and opting out of game nights, nail nights, and even soba nights.

They had been giving him space, which he finds endearing. Of course, Bakugou isn’t one to give anything liberally.

“Mine...” Shouto admits, and Bakugou looks surprised.

The fun part of befriending Bakugou is that Shouto could be a bit of a bitch and Bakugou would be a bitch back, and it wouldn’t matter. No one’s feelings were hurt, and Shouto can let go of steam without guilt. Shouto could’ve been in denial, said that Bakugou should step off his dick and no feelings would be hurt.

But he had enough of space, though admittedly, he should’ve confessed that with someone that wants to be in his space.

“Finally, you’re done moping around, everyone’s been on my ass worrying about you.”

“Why would they be on your ass?”

“Hell would I know.”

“Was that the reason you cried?” Shouto is just teasing, but the grim in Bakugou’s face isn’t a familiar one.

“I told you that didn’t happen!” he growls lowly.

Shouto considers, clueless yet curious. “I’ll tell you about me if you told me about you.”

“Just because you’re vomiting your crisis that I didn’t ask for, doesn’t mean I’m obligated to do the same!”

“Okay, that’s fine too.”

“No, shut-”

“My mom and dad are getting back together.”

Bakugou’s expression mellows to confusion, “That sounds convoluted as hell. Didn’t they just got a divorce or something?”

“They never got a divorce. She’s just sent to a mental hospital and never came home, doesn’t mean the marriage is legally broken.”

The fact seems to sink slow with his explosive friend, “What the fuck.”

Shouto sighs, looking down his jittery hands, his mouth dries. “Last year when I visited my mom, we were talking about the future. She said she’d filed for a divorce, and I’d live with her.” Shouto feels oddly numb, but there’s this dull ache deep in his chest that’s constant. “I should’ve known. She said that before he ‘tried to change’... she said that when everything was still bad, she thought it still happened.”

“What still happened?” Bakugou sounds angry, but he always does.

“I got hurt a lot when I was a kid, because of training. She thought he still hurts me.”

He felt the shoulder beside him tensed. Beside Shouto’s jittery hands is Bakugou’s clenched shaking fist. Shouto looks up from their laps and finds that Bakugou’s face... an eerie stoic.

“Hmmm,” Bakugou hums, and a chill runs down his spine. “When did you start training by the way?” not even a curse in that sentence.

Shouto realizes then, this is Bakugou truly angry, even though Shouto can’t figure out why on earth would he be.

“The day after my quirk manifested.”

His childhood is unforgettable. The day his training starts with fear and pain, then ends with exhaustion and anger. The day Touya never came back, the day his mom left, the longing stare towards the backyard wanting to play with his brother and sister. He remembers it all, like a tattoo in his memory.

“We been knew that Endeavor was an ass but I didn’t know he’s a fucking child abuser.”

The words snap him away from his musing. This time, Bakugou looks angry angry. Teeth-gritting, scowling, boiling anger.

Oh, that’s why he’s angry.

“It was training.”

“Not at five fucking years old you e-boy himbo!” Bakugou barks.

“That’s new, what’s a himbo?”

“Not the fucking point!” Bakugou takes his shoulder away, and suddenly Shouto feels cold. Then he’s held by his shoulders, pinned by sharp maroon eyes, and the lack of warmth turns cold when a growl says, “You’re telling me that your dad’s been abusing you, and no one stopped him? And he’s fucking getting away with it??”

There are so many things wrong with that question and implied statement. One is that it was not abuse. Two is that no one could’ve stopped the then number two hero. Three is that Shouto didn’t tell him any of that but Bakugou assumed anyway.

Shouto doesn’t get to say all of it as Bakugou lets go of him and takes deep breaths. Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose, seemingly displeased at what he’s thinking.

“Why did you think your mom wants to get back together with your dad?”

Shouto feels relieved now they’re back on topic, “I don’t know. It feels like one moment she’s afraid of him, and now she wants to be with him again. I guess... he did ‘try to be better’. Everyone else seems to forgive him, but I can’t.”

Then Bakugou does something that he didn’t expect, he defends them, “I mean... He’s not that much of a dick now, right? He’s a dick but he was pretty alright when we have a work-study at his agency. And your mom’s better, so maybe they could make it work?”

Shouto knows it’s technically true, but displeasure clawed him still, his blood boiling.

“I don’t care whether it works! I hated that she forgives him so easily!” Shouto shouts.

“Well, that’s selfish of you, isn’t it! It’s her decision, not yours!” Bakugou barks back.

“What the fuck do you know about it?” Shouto spats, he stands up, “They’re going to destroy each other, and what then? Do they want me to just look at their trainwreck while they insist everything is okay? No! I’m not going through that again!”

“You’re just not trusting your mom! Things changed!” Bakugou stands up too, he looks exceptionally angrier than ever.

“No, I don’t. Especially after she said she wanted to get a divorce with him then changing her mind only a year later. Of course, I don’t trust her!”

“But isn’t it better to have both your parents together?”

“No, it doesn’t especially when she’s not happy!”

Bakugou doesn’t bark back, and Shouto only realized how Bakugou’s question was laced with a cracked voice. Shouto looks, only partially surprised that the eyes that look back thinly veiled with tears. The heat in his bloodstream wanes out, more worried/horrified that Bakugou is now openly crying.

This is the worst. Both of them are socially awkward lone wolves that have no idea how and what to do with emotions. So, Shouto does his #best.

“You can tell me.”

Bakugouu glares. Okay, so maybe Shouto’s #best isn’t what he needs.

“Only if you want, if you don’t then it’s okay too.”

“Shut the fuck up, thermostat.”

What else do you do when someone cried? Shouto racks his memories of times when he was crying a lot when he was little, trying to find examples he could follow. He remembers his mom.

“Come here.”

“The fuck are you trying to-”

Shouto cuts him off with a hug. It’s as awkward as it comes. Shouto has his arms around the broad shoulders, his chin hooked on the right side. Shouto doesn’t know how tight he should hug, but it’s enough to press their chest together. Then one of his arms, the left one, rubs Bakugou’s back, emitting a slight warmth. In two languid swipes, Bakugou’s tenseness bleeds slowly.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Shouto says, mimicking what his mom had said once upon a time when he’s upset. “But it’ll be okay. Maybe it’ll take a long time, or it’ll be really hard, but you...” have me, you don’t have to deal with everything alone, was what his mom finished with. He doesn’t know if Bakugou would see him as reliable, but Fuyumi had said that intentions are the most important. “You have your friends, and you have me. I don’t know what will help, but I’ll do it if you asked.”

Shouto surprised himself that he means it. When he encounters an emotionally fragile situation, he usually gets Midoriya, or Urakara, or Momo to handle the situation. With Bakugou however...seeing that his usually prickly friend tipping at the edge like this, Shouto felt like he wants to help. Perhaps it was the camaraderie of the S.S. Emotional Constipation that makes him reach out his personal hand towards Bakugou.

Shouto found another surprise when Bakugou hugs him back, his spiky blond head tucked at the crook of his neck. Shouto also didn’t expect the reflex tears pooling in his eyes at the feeling of tightening arms around his torso. He’s being held, tight and needy. When was the last time he’s held like this? Tears pours without his will when he realized the last time someone hugged him was Touya as Dabi when he was about to burn himself along with Shouto.

They stay there on the rooftop just holding each other as if they’ll fall apart if they don't. When Bakugou lets go, his eyes are even redder than it already is. When those red eyes look up, he noticed the tear streak down Shouto’s face and doesn’t comment about it.

Instead, Bakugou says, “My parents are splitting up.”

Shouto says nothing, only to pull him in his arms again.

They say nothing else as they sit at the same spot on the concrete floor leaning on each other, hand in hand. Shouto instinctually teared up again when he remembered the last time someone holds his hand was his mom as she walked him to a park, all those years ago. Other than that, it was for survival and fighting.

Bakugou leans his head on Shouto’s shoulder first, Shouto says nothing about it. He then leans his face on top of Bakugou’s hair, it feels like a bed of grass, Bakugou says nothing about it too. Shouto realizes that Bakugou can be vulnerable as long as no one points it out. Being untalkative, Shouto can do just that.

The future is scary, especially when their supposed foundation is changing. Bakugou’s foundations are breaking apart, while Shouto had grown accustomed to the torn apart pieces now move together crossing fingers that they fit.

But the future is for tomorrow. The changes are not theirs to make. All they can do now is hold themselves together as everything changes, hoping they don’t break in the process.

Eventually, nightfalls, but none of them moved. Shouto suspects that Bakugou might be sleeping on him.

It’s a suspicion no more when Aizawa found them there, and Bakugou doesn’t stir from being found. Those tired eyes already look exasperated as he finds Shouto’s tear-streaked eyes looking back.

Aizawa sighs, “Is it life-threatening ?”

Shouto knows that the teacher is prone to worries despite his appearance. Their stumble at first year seems to scar him and made him extra vigilant with his students ever since.

“There’s nothing we could do about it,” Shouto says, which is true, but seemingly a wrong thing to say.

“That doesn’t answer my question, trouble child.” Aizawa scowls, which means his worry cranked up to max. “Are the both of you facing a problem that harms you, or threatening your life?”

“It’s nothing like that,” says the bundle of blond in his shoulder. Bakugou sits up and stretches, yawning so big his jaw seems to unhinge a bit. He doesn’t look angry, just tired. “It’s family drama, you know how it is.”

“Is it really just drama?” Aizawa squints at Bakugou, too knowing for someone without a mind-reading quirk.

Bakugou looks at Shouto, searching and prodding. Shouto doesn’t understand what he could be looking for, or what he wants. Bakugou just sighs, “Yeah, just drama.”

Aizawa looks at Shouto too and softens. “If you two need to cuddle you can just do it in your respective room.”

“Nah, too many nosy people.” Bakugou starts to leave.

Shouto follows with a “Good night Sensei.”

Aizawa grunts.

“We can use my Elsa stairs,” Shouto pipes in as he walks alongside him.

Bakugou looks at him and huffs, “Turns out you’re not a himbo after all.”

Since Bakugou won't tell him, Shouto looks up ‘himbo’ himself. This raises a lot of questions about how Bakugou has been seeing him, but Shouto decides that he’d be offended by it.

++++++

You could still be lonely even though you have tons of sibling, or even when they really love you. I guess they just don’t know how to show us they love us.

He really should’ve known. He really should’ve fucking known.

The thought spins in his head as he smoked the last cigarette on his freshly bought pack. No one to catch him this time. It’s the weekend and he’s supposed to be at home, but it’s unbearable to be in the same room with his family. Usually, he could just slurp his soba in feigning ignorance but not now.

He’s sitting by the bench of a lonely park. He’s been sitting here since sun down. He has no idea what time it is. His phone in his pocket is on silent, he hasn’t checked on it since he walked out.

He should’ve stayed at the dorms, fuck the family dinner.

It’s not that Shouto wants things to end up badly. It’s not like he doesn’t want to be home, especially since his mom finally comes home after so many years. Everyone is happy that she’s back, even Natsuo, even his dad. Everyone except her. It looks so hard for her to be there. Shouto can see in her face that some places still hold strong bad memories for her.

His mother is strong because she pulls through. She holds herself through it all even though it seems only barely.

Yet why is he still so angry at her? Maybe not angry, frustrated. Shouto wants to ask her clarity. Why is she doing this? Why did she change her mind? Why come back here? Why not grasp the independence she had been telling Shouto she strived for? Was she coaxed to be here? Was she feeling some kind of responsibility to go back here? To salvage that sham of a marriage she had with Endeavor?

Shouto wants to ask, wants to understand. He crowded her with questions that moment when they said they’d be getting back together, only for his mom to wince, eyes widen, and quickened breath. For the second time in his life, his mom had looked at him with fear. Today, Shouto could barely meet her eyes again.

Is he really such a monster in her eyes just because he’s half his father? Then why go back to his father at all?

Shouto bought half a dozen packs as per tradition. Also because of his self implied tradition, he puts all the ashes in the coffin-shaped ashtray, even though there’s a park ashtray right beside him.

“You carry that everywhere,” Says a groveling voice that Shouto would notice anywhere.

Bakugou is in casuals. Black jeans and a grey hoodie seem like he’s out in a hurry. Just like Shouto.

“You’ve got to stop stalking me,” Shouto inhales deep, watching red amber burns till the filter and sighs.

“Who fucking stalking you Zuko.”

“Zuko doesn’t have-”

“Shut up,” Bakugou plop his ass beside Shouto, sitting waaay too close. He snatched the coffin tin, inspecting it. “Even when you didn’t smoke you carried this.”

“How did you know?”

“It shows your pocket, not big enough for a phone.”

Shouto knows he can’t get away once Bakugou began prying. “My first friend gave it to me.”

“That fucking Deku???”

“No,” Shouto chuckles at the image of Midoriya taking the role of what his first friend did. “It’s someone I met first-year junior high. She gave me this after introducing me to cigarettes.”

“That’s so fucking passive-aggressive I would’ve punched her in her teeth,” Bakugou grumbles, putting the ashtray to Shouto’s lap. “And why the fuck would anyone smoke at thirteen anyway!”

“Exactly because we’re thirteen, Katsuki, just because,” Shouto chuckles again at the memory. Seemingly too carefree from the nicotine, Bakugou had become Katsuki in his tongue. Katsuki bristles at his given name, but says nothing about it. It mysteriously made Shouto very happy.

“Among everything though, she was my first best friend, she teaches me a lot of things that make me who I am. She made me realize that I didn’t have to follow my dad’s wishes. That I can be what I want to be instead of what I was born for. That it’s valid to be lonely even though I technically have a big family. That it’s okay to not strive to be the best and just to be... happy.”

Shouto closes his eyes, remembering her lessons always fell bitter-sweet. But he’ll hold it in his heart forever.

“What you’re born for?” Katsuki says scathingly.

“Yeah, you know about this.” Shouto was told that Katsuki had eavesdropped on his conversation with Midoriya. Shouto was born to fulfill another man’s vendetta. A purpose first, and a son last.

“Seem like a wise person for a thirteen-year-old,” Katsuki sneers.

“She was, I loved her,” Shouto’s confession brings Katsuki’s face to a red grimace.

“Shit, I didn’t ask you to tell me your fucking secrets.”

“It’s not a secret.”

“Oh, really?” Katsuki spat bitterly, “Then why are you hiding your girlfriend from us?”

So many things wrong with that question. Shouto raises his eyebrows in surprise, “She’s not my girlfriend, and I’m not hiding her. She’s dead.”

The grimace fell like a hot potato, it would’ve been fun watching how Katsuki splutters if he didn’t look like he’s legit choking. “Holy fuck, that's... fuck, then why the shit you’re so stoic talking about it,” Katsuki seems appalled.

“It happens a long time ago. She seems accepting of her death that I... well I want to respect her decision.” Shouto knows it’s weird to not feel mournful of the departure of your closest friend. He still misses her, but she had been so positive until the very moment she left. Shouto was sure that she’s happy, so Shouto wants to be happy for her.

Katsuki paled, horrified, seemingly to misunderstand again.

“She had a terminal illness. Very likely no chance of survival. She chose to live her remaining time normally instead of undergoing treatment.”

“There’s... There’s no way her parents let her do that.”

“They’re economically challenged. They tried though, just too late in the end.”

“Fuck...” Katsuki cursed, running through his hair roughly. “Never thought you’d be the type of person to have life-changing moments like that.”

“A lot of people have proven to me that everyone has potential to be unexpected, and that’s just how it is.” Shouto looks pointedly at Katsuki, who glares at him in retaliation. “There’s a reason why we’re both here instead of home.”

“Yeah?” Katsuki mumbles, clearly not wanting to talk.

Shouto doesn’t too, to be honest, and yet keeping it in feels more exhausting, “My mom’s home.”

“No shit?” Katsuki was mildly surprised, “So it’s really happening huh.”

“It’s like walking on eggshells with her. I wanted to ask, but last time I did she flinched at me. I couldn’t look at her today.”

Katsuki sighs. This time, Katsuki is the one that scoots over till their shoulders touched all the way to their thighs. The contact makes Shouto breathes easier, he’s drawn to it like moths to a flame. His body goes limp as if it’s been too tense too long from holding itself together, and he drapes himself on top of Katsuki. Shoulder pressed together, his head heavily falls on Katsuki’s shoulder. Instinctually, his hand looks for another hand. Katsuki snakes around his hand and clasps it with his. It’s uncharacteristic, but Shouto finds himself grateful for it.

It’s warm, it’s damp, it’s grounding. Like lying on even earth after running away for so long.

“I don’t want her to be with him under the obligation that parents are supposed to be together for the kids. She’s been through so much, I would’ve understood, but I didn’t know how to say it without triggering her.” Silence follows, and Shouto realized what he said. “Sorry, uh, I’m not insinuating-”

“Shut up candy cane, I know.” Katsuki leans closer, his head on top of Shouto’s.

It’s warm, just what he needs in the middle of an emotional crisis at the beginning of November. It’s a bit out of character for Katsuki to do this, nor Shouto, neither of them are known for physical contact or talking about their personal lives. Yet here they are.

And Katsuki speaks anyway, “They’re fighting.”

Shouto, contrary to what Katsuki called him, isn’t a himbo. He knows who they are and he knows what a fight could entail.

“Did they hurt each other when they fight?” Shouto asks, then mused even if they did, could Katsuki do anything about it? Shouto couldn’t back then.

“No!” Katsuki says, indignant, “Of course not, they’re just bitching at each other about... about... I don’t know, it’s fucking stupid.”

“Hm, that’s good.”

“Fucking hell it’s good, they’re being idiotic!”

“They’re not hurting each other.”

Katsuki paused, his hands clenched tighter, “Did he hurt your mom when they fight?”

Shouto takes a deep inhale at the surge of memory. The fear that settles is old, he knows. Just leftover trauma that never went away, still, it bubbled to the surface, makes his skin cold.

Not trusting his voice, Shouto nods.

“They were fighting about me,” Katsuki says after a while, his voice a bit shaky, and Shouto knows better than to point it out. He keeps his head on the shaking shoulder and listens. “They didn’t know I was listening, they never did. They never... Turn-Turns out they didn’t even plan on having me.”

Katsuki holds his hand tighter and trembling.

“I’m a fucking accident,” Katsuki spat, venom dripping in every word. “Then they had a shotgun wedding, they didn’t even love each other at all.”

Shouto hears one escape of a sniff and lets himself relax, feigning clueless that Katsuki must’ve been crying. He lets the silence stretches until the hand holding his relaxed and the shaking subsides. Shouto had the same breakdown before. It downs to him that they’re not so different after all, children of a loveless relationship. Though he wonders if that instantly means he’s unloved. It had felt that way, but now... now it feels so much complicated than yes or no.

“Does it matter why we’re born?” Shouto hears a deep inhale of an incoming rant but he cuts it off with, “We’re our own person, with our own lives, and our own dreams. No one can tell us otherwise. Not even the one who makes us.” Shouto pauses and listens, what came to his ears is soft breathing, so he continues. “So what you’re not planned? That doesn’t mean you’re unwanted,” Shouto rubs his thumb over the damp knuckles, “You’re not unloved.”

Because Shouto had been to the Bakugo residence. Bakugou Mitsuki is as explosive as he is, but he can see her adoring stare at her son even when she’s scolding him. Bakugou Masaru is softer, always trying to calm both of them and giving small smiles when Shouto tells him stories about his son at school.

“What the fuck do you know, water dispenser?” Katsuki lowly growls, but it doesn’t have that biting hate, he doesn’t move away from Shouto.

So Shouto only hums and lets the silence stretch. He grabs the ashtray with his other hand, rubbing the plain surface with his thumb, remembering her, thanking her.

“What’s her name?” Katsuki says after minutes of silence, his voice with less snarl.

“Arisu.”

“... I’m sorry you lost her.”

And that’s what happened, isn’t it? Shouto may be able to let her go, but she’s still lost to him. Still hurts, Shouto still mises her. “Thank you.”

They didn’t let go of each other until Shouto’s phone rings. It’s Natsuo. His brother is just as unhappy about their parents' reunion, though for him it’s more about hating their dad and less about questioning their mother as Shouto did. Natsuo called to offer to spend the rest of the weekend at his place. Shouto immediately agrees, then he remembers Katsuki.

“Is it okay if I bring one of my friends?”

Katsuki instantly glowers at him.

“Who?”

“Katsuki.”

“Who??”

“Bakugou.”

“Oh, yeah sure. Buy some dinner on the way, I didn’t get to eat much.”

“Okay, me too.”

As soon as they hang up, Katsuki bares his teeth.

“Who says I’ll go with you, Pokeball?” His voice raised a bit, his arms crossing defensively.

“I’m not, I said if. You don’t have to, but if you want, you can.”

“No one fucking asked you for shelter,” Katsuki scoffs, facing away.

“I know...” Shouto knows Katsuki would rather leave than accept help. The only way he accepts it is that if no one acknowledges it. He knows Katsuki can take care of himself, but Shouto is the one that doesn’t want him to leave just yet. Shouto knows he’ll go back to Natsuo’s place only to hear him bitch about Endeavor when the real problem is with their mom and her odd decision.

“Can’t you just stay for dinner?” The desperation in his voice is real, Katsuki seems to notice it and is bewildered by it. “Please?”

Katsuki’s eyes widen at the magic word because no, Shouto doesn’t say it often, much less towards Katsuki, he had enough ego already.

Nose flared and fist clenched, Katsuki finally barks, “Fine! But we’re cooking instead of ordering take-out, I fucking know what you’re gonna get you soba simp. Your brother better has a kitchen.”

“He does,” Shouto replies, the upbeat tone in his voice is rare. Can you blame him? He’s excited that he’s not coming home, and Katsuki goes with him with his admittedly superior cooking.

At Natsuo’s apartment, Shouto helped Katsuki cook, nothing more than chopping stuff. Natsuo gave him a brief summary of what happened at home after Shouto left, but thankfully, he’s not saying too much because Katsuki is there. Once Natsuo finished talking and left to get beers, Shouto gives Katsuki an arm squeeze of thanks. Katsuki only grunts.

Dinner is ‘simple’ in Katsuki’s opinion. Stir-fried vegetables, miso soup, and hamburg steak. As always, it’s delicious, and Natsuo who’s none the wiser to Katsuki’s God-like cooking skill is blown away.

They’re in the living area on the sofa watching TV when Shouto scoots closer again. Natsuo is in his room studying.

“You can stay here for the rest of the weekend if you want,” Shouto says, bumping shoulders.

Katsuki frowns, eyes on the screen. “I don’t have my change of clothes with me.”

“You can borrow mine, I have some here.”

“Ran away a lot don’t you?” Katsuki sneers.

“You have no idea,” Shouto admits.

The sneer falls, “Why?”

“Just because I finally can.”

“You couldn’t before?”

Shouto shakes his head, finding his head heavy, so he lays his head on Katsuki’s shoulder again. “Before he was number one, he insists on using all my free time on training. If I didn’t, he’d take my phone, or the internet, or my manga, even burned them on some occasion. He even flushed my pet fish, rest in peace Kiya. Then he’s number one, and the dorms are established... so...”

Shout shrugs. He doesn’t reach for Katsuki’s hand this time, just pressed against him, afraid if he pushed then Katsuki would retract. Shouto doesn’t want to stop his newfound comfort just yet.

Then his hand is grasped by a firm clammy hand. Shouto keeps thinking of how Katsuki’s sweaty hands must be because of the nitroglycerin of his quirk. If he’s not thinking about Katsuki’s quirk then he’d think about how it makes his heart skipped a beat that Katsuki initiates the touch again. So yeah, clammy hands that hold him tight.

“Why didn’t you tell anybody?” Katsuki says, weaker than he’s accustomed to. It makes Shouto wary.

“I don’t know what is there to tell.”

A groan stretches, “What do I do with you?”

“Hey...” Shouto mock complains “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Does he still train you like that?”

Shouto feels a bit of whiplash with all these questions. Katsuki has been asking personal questions left and right, and Shouto doesn’t understand why answering it doesn’t feel as hard as usual.

“No, not since he became number 1.”

Katsuki scoffs, “Got what he wanted didn’t he?”

“Sometimes I wonder if that’s the case. When he got it, he didn’t seem happy, just angry. Then he started wanting the family he broke to get that number one spot.”

That renders Katsuki to another bout of silence. He knows Katsuki strives to be number one too, and at first, Shouto had ridiculed him about it. Why does a superficial title mean so much anyway? Katsuki changed over the years though, with Midoriya being the main cause of it.

Heart on his throat, Shouto dare asks, “Hey, Katsuki? Why do you want to be a hero?”

Katsuki tensed, but Shouto holds him tighter, “Why are you getting nosy all of the sudden?”

Shouto knows he’s not getting things easy, “I just wanna know.”

“Yeah, that’s nosy.”

“No, I just want to get to know you.” Shouto bites his lips as soon as the words left, was that too forward?

They’re not looking at each other, but Shouto can feel the glare directed at him. “Why?”

“We’ve been friends for a while...”

“We’re not fucking friends-!”

“...But I feel like I’m taking you for granted. I didn’t even know you’re going through something so big.” Some friend I am, Shouto broods.

It takes a few seconds, but Katsuki defeatedly sighs, and Shouto smiles in victory, “At first, I just want to be the best.”

“Best at what?”

“Everything...” Katsuki muses, his head knocked back, “Then I realized that it was an impossible goal... Did a lot of thinking, did a lot of uh, self-reflecting. Started talking to Ito-san too. I realized that I just want to be needed.”

It makes sense why Katsuki is here then. Shouto wished he could outright say that he needs him so Katsuki would stay longer, but just imagining him doing so already makes him pink in embarrassment.

Ito-san is the school counselor, her doors are open for every UA student. Shouto had half the mind to go to her, but there’s always this weight of silence from being a son of a high-profile hero. Endeavor always drilled him about secrecy and how he shouldn’t say anything about his family to anyone or it’ll ruin everything. It’s the reason why Arisu was his only friend, she was dying, and she did take his secret to her grave. Shouto still feels guilty about that.

“Have you ever talked to Ito-san?” Katsuki asked as if reading his mind.

“Can’t.”

“Why?”

“Everything that comes out of my mouth is tabloid-worthy. Endeavor had drilled me from way young that I can’t run my mouth about our lives. He’s right about that at least, I didn’t want paparazzi swarming us demanding half-assed rumors if I can help it. It had happened before, someone even sneaked into my mom’s hospital to reach her. I guess... that’s also why I never told anyone at all about anything.”

“You told Arisu didn’t you?”

Shouto bites his lip, guilt gnaws at him, “Because I know she won't carry my secrets long enough.” Please don’t hate me. Shouto’s grip on Katsuki tighten.

“But you told Deku, you told me.”

“Well, I trust you,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing. “You sure you don’t want to stay over?”

Katsuki leans away, and the cold strikes immediately. Shouto leans back, pointedly not looking at red irises.

“Fine.”

Shouto quickly looks up, then he finds Katsuki’s face odd. There’s something familiar with it. He’s... smiling, only slightly, but it’s a smile, and his eyes aren’t furrowed or angry or glaring. His eyebrows relaxed and he looks.... soft. Maybe Shouto fell asleep and currently dreaming.

“I’ll need to call my parents first,” Katsuki says after clearing his throat, looking away a bit flushed.

“Sure, I’ll get you settled.”

Shouto is half excited half worried. He told Natsuo that Katsuki will be borrowing the couch, which only replied with a hum while his eyes doesn’t leave the book. His brother is not unfamiliar with runaways. Shouto isn’t the only one seeking shelter at his place.

Shouto passes the balcony where Katsuki is screaming at his phone. Shouto can only hear muffles, but he gives Katsuki some privacy and gets some spare clothes. When Shouto sees that Katsuki is still on the phone even after ten minutes have passed, he takes the liberty of taking a shower first.

When Shouto walks out, he finds Katsuki sitting by the sofa, his hands suspiciously inflamed. He faces the screen but looking particularly nowhere. Shouto had seen those empty looks before.

“Katsuki?”

He jerks slightly as his name is called. Katsuki schooled his expression to a careful stoic, walls up. No matter, Shouto thinks, sometimes you don’t need to tear down walls to help a person, just hold their hand through the gate.

“Go take a shower, bath’s warm.”

Katsuki nods, taking the towel Shouto offered and the spare clothes. Shouto makes tea, for him, his brother, and Katsuki. Shouto delivers the cup of tea to Natsuo’s room, seems like the books are multiplying around his brother.

“Tea,” Shouto says before putting it on a coaster.

“Thanks.” Natsuo finally looks away from the book and takes a sip. “That Bakugou, how is he?” Natsuo asks, knowing that Shouto only brings his friend here in a dire situation.

The only other person he brought was Kaminari, believe it or not. Kaminari had said he didn’t want to come home for the weekend because he was scared of facing his parents after he came out via text. From the replies, it hadn’t been good. Kaminari spent the rest of the stay switching between sobbing and full-on crying. Only God knows why Kaminari asked him instead of any of the Baku-squad, but Kaminari is still his friend too, so Shouto provides.

But today with Katsuki is different though. Shouto had to beg him to stay, whether it’s for the benefit of him or Shouto the line had blurred.

“Hopefully he will be,” Is all Shouto can offer. Natsuo nods before going back to his book.

Shouto lays out his futon in the living room adjacent to the sofa. He’s laying down, scrolling at his phone. Putting his dad on read and ignoring Fuyumi’s and mom’s chatbox. He opted to look at cat videos instead. Soon, Katsuki came out of the bathroom, drank the offered tea, and laid down on the sofa.

They spent probably an hour separately looking at their phones when Shouto finally calls it a night. He turned off the lights, and tuck himself in. Before he said goodnight, Shouto thinks and his desires take.

“Wanna hang out tomorrow?” he asked.

Blood red eyes look at him from the screen, “Where?”

Shouto shrugs, “I don’t know, just around, get my mind off things. There’s a cat cafe I’ve been wanting to see, then we’ll go from there.”

Katsuki stares, seemingly thinking it over, “Have you ever been to a rock climbing gym?”

“A what?”

Katsuki smirks, sharp-teethed and evil, “Oh you’re in for a fucking experience, red velvet oreo.”

Shouto is a bit suspicious, even so, he finds himself looking forward to tomorrow.

+++++

I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, but you shouldn’t think that way. Of course you’ll have more friends. You’re more lovable than you think, Shouto.

Something changed between them after that weekend. Comfort grows between them. Comfort that they don’t want to let go just yet, perhaps not anytime soon.

The bad thing about it is that everyone notices. Everyone.

To their friend's credit though, they came to school together, walking very close to each other. It was fully initiated by Shouto, but Katsuki didn’t snap or push him away, so he assumed everything is okay.

Everything is absolutely not okay because the moment he walks to class everyone has eyes on them. Shouto thought it won’t matter to him, but Katsuki tends to be defensive. When Katsuki is defensive, he pushes people away. Shouto tried not to watch Katsuki for the whole class.

Momo noticed, of course, but she notices more than superficial things.

“Shouto,” Momo whispers, “Everything alright?”

Shouto gives her a smile and nods.

It’s not until they’re getting up for lunch that Shouto is tested in a form of Kirishima.

“Bakubro! How long have you been dating Todobro?”

The world screech halt, and Kirishima tensed at the sudden chill he’s feeling. When Kirishima found the source of burning in his back, he sees Shouto, glaring hard and terrifyingly at him. Face darkens, pupils small, ready to kill.

Kirishima squeaks, “He-hey, uh-”

“Back off Kiri, it’s none of your business,” is all Katsuki says. Not even a scream, just a conversational tone as if he’s bored. No defensiveness, no snarling at Shouto in retaliation. “The fuck are yall extras staring at? Move outta my way, I’m hungry!” Then he left.

No one is barging Shouto with questions instead. It’s out of character of his classmates to not poke their nose in something juicy, but as he drops his butt at his chair, he finds himself alone in class.

Shouto is left in class with a big wave of relief, so much that he couldn’t stand. Why is it that the thought of Katsuki pushing him away scares him this much?

A hand landed on his desk, he looks up to find Momo’s honest stare, “Something is not alright.”

Shouto sighs, “No.”

Unlike Katsuki, Momo never pries, only assuring that she’s there for him. Unlike Momo, Katsuki understands that some things can’t be fixed, wherein if he opens up to Momo and some others, they tried to help by fixing. The number of times his friends told him, again and again, to go to Ito-san when they found out about Dabi being his brother is an exhausting amount. Maybe that’s why Shouto has been more comfortable with laying his problems to Katsuki.

So he eats lunch with Momo in the silence of comfortable company, and there’s just that.

+++++

Thank you for being there for me. You’re the bestest best friend I could ever wish for. And you won’t be lonely for long, you’ll see.

Shouto has peaceful days following that first Monday. His comfort with Katsuki doesn’t change. Though they don't get together on the rooftop anymore (Iida never let go of his key since Katsuki managed to steal it), they still gravitate towards each other whenever they don’t feel particularly great.

Katsuki would approach and say things like, “They want me home this weekend.”

“You wanna stay at the dorms or my place?”

“Can’t. I know they wanted to talk to me about who I wanna stay with.”

“We can make up an excuse if you want.”

“Hm.”

Then they spent the rest of the day together, just sitting at the school’s lawn, looking at particularly nothing. And if they sit too close together and their clasped hands only partially hidden by their legs, no one pointed it out.

Shouto would approach and say things like, “Fuyumi wants to call me, I know she’s just gonna talk about how I’m tearing the family apart.”

Katsuki snaps from his bed towards the window where Shouto is stepping down from his Elsa stairs.

Katsuki’s shock then turns to fury, “Your sister, Fuyumi, THAT Fuyumi said that to you?”

“She wanted the family together. I think she’s frustrated that I keep making my parents' union difficult.”

“You know what, her spicy mapo tofu isn’t that delicious anyway!” Katsuki barks his hands clenched down mini-explosions. It’s one of Katsuki’s outbursts that Shouto doesn’t understand, nor does he understand why her mapo tofu is related in any way, so he doesn’t comment.

“I’m gonna head up to the roof, wanna come?”

“No, you’ll just smoke and you’d give me fucking cancer.”

Shouto feels cold, Katsuki had never said no from hanging out before, “Fine.”

“Who said you can leave? Come here!” Katsuki held his ankle from the balcony, gripping tight.

Shouto blinks, remembering what Aizawa-sensei had said some days ago. “Oh, are we gonna cuddle?”

Katsuki’s face set aflame, “Just fucking come in here Katy Perry, before I yank you by your stupid Poland flag hair.”

Shouto finds himself obeying at the thought of cuddling, but then confused, “Why Katy Perry?”

“Hot and cold.”

“I guess that’ll make sense if I know who Katy Perry is but.”

Katsuki spat a curse, “Alright, time for a session of pop culture.”

“But I already had them with Mina and Sero”

“And they’re doing a shit job about it if you didn’t know the person that shapes a whole ass generation.”

It started with a music video of Hot and Cold by Katy Perry and ends with a retelling biography of Lady Gaga. Who knew Katsuki is so knowledgeable about female pop stars.

“TELL ANYONE AND DIE,” He said after Shouto pointed it out.

Most important of all, they did cuddle. They were sitting on the bedside then suddenly they’re laying down side by side. They’re watching a gameplay video of a Swedish man playing a horror game, another important role in pop culture as Katsuki said. It’s an old video, and Katsuki said that the man owns some part of Antarctica, which Shouto knows it’s some kind of an inside joke.

The nights getting late, and Shouto is reminded of the text on his phone, how it vibrates occasionally. Shouto has been in Katsuki’s room for four hours, but he doesn’t want to go back to his room.

Katsuki notices him lingering, “You wanna stay here for the night?”

Shouto looks up from Katsuki’s phone with big sparkling eyes, “You sure?”

“Tch, I wouldn’t have offered if I don’t.” Katsuki looks away, exposing his neck that seems red to the tip of his ears, “It’ll be a little cramp though with my single bed.”

“I don’t mind it. Just don’t kick me out of bed.”

“No promises.”

Katsuki didn’t. He curled away from Shouto as soon as the blankets tucked. Their backs pressed against each other because of the small space. Shouto finds it hard to fall asleep, could be the new environment or the gnawing anxiety.

He’ll admit that Fuyumi is his favorite sibling. She’s there for him when he was condemned in that lonely manor only to train and study. Fuyumi stays back for him, tend to his wounds, cook for him, keep him company. Natsuo had left and rarely come back, even though he’s there for Shouto in the end.

Then his dad had a bootleg redemption arc and Fuyumi dropped him like hot potato and shoved both of them together despite what Shouto feels about his dad. When his parents are getting back together, Fuyumi stopped consoling Shouto and started to support them blindly. So desperate to have their family together. Doesn’t she know that there’s nothing to salvage? Doesn’t she remember what he did?

“I can hear you from here, air conditioner,” Katsuki grumbles, his back vibrates, “Go to sleep.”

“I’m trying.”

Shouto can’t stop thinking, can’t stop getting angry and getting hurt. It hurts when his sister is pointing the blame at Shouto, it hurts even more when it’s kind of true. It hurts that despite his fear of facing her, he still owes her a call at least. He’ll never be ready for what she’s about to say, never be ready to be hurt by her. Shouto turns around and buries his face at Katsuki’s back, ducking under the cover.

“What is it?’ Katsuki asks, not demanding, but Shouto’s floodgates are opened.

“I don’t understand how they could forgive him. He hurts mom, he hurts Touya to a point that he left and hates us, and he... he hurts me. It’s just training but-but- fine, okay, it hurt and I was scared most of the time that he’s not gonna pull his punches. Fuyumi forgives him so easily, and mom just went back in there even though they were never in love in the first place. It’s like they’ve forgotten what he had done, how deeply he scars all of us. Like what- like what happened didn’t matter.” Shouto’s voice breaks the whole time, a sob escaped in between the jumbled words and he’s trying so hard, so hard not to cry.

Katsuki turns around, his arms wrapped around Shouto’s hunched shoulders. A burnt sweet scent hits his nostrils, his face pressed against a defined neck and collarbones. All tenseness bleeds away when Katsuki starts rubbing his back, and tears break from his eyes without his will. Shouto wraps his arms around his friend’s torso, feeling his chest constrict when Katsuki mercifully says nothing about the silent tears landing on his chest.

He shuts his lips, pressing tightly because he’s not sobbing to Katsuki’s chest. They’re comfortable with each other but not that comfortable... right? Shouto’s tolerance to breakdown cries is thanks to exposure to crying most of his childhood, the same can’t be said for Katsuki. The hug is enough, it’s everything. Shouto never realized how much he craved being touched until that day Katsuki sits way too close to him.

His lips pressed tight keeping from sobbing, but his hands tremble on Katsuki’s back instead.

“Damn, you’re touch starved aren’t you,” Katsuki sighs to his hair, his face buried there.

“I didn’t know,” Shouto’s voice shaking pathetically, breaking at the edge and Shouto is too torn to care about it.

“Me too.”

Shouto doesn’t know which one Katsuki meant, but neither let go until they sleep.

++++++

I love you too, Shouto. Don’t be scared of letting people in, okay? Not all of them are gonna leave you, I promise.

Things get rough, but their comfort pushes each other through.

Katsuki chooses to stay with his dad, but he’s co-parenting with his mom. Katsuki spends his weekends at both their house, switching every weekend. There’s still tenseness between his parents, and Katsuki explodes whenever his dad or mom asks Katsuki about the other. ‘Stop fucking asking me! If you wanna know so much then you shouldn’t have gotten the divorce!’ Katsuki doesn’t want to hear their reasoning, feeling better to just accept the change and move on, but Shouto thinks he’s just not ready to hear it. Sometimes Katsuki stays at the dorms with Shouto or the Todoroki estate when he gets overwhelmed.

Shouto finally talks to his mom. At first, it didn’t go anywhere. She’s as unsure as Shouto, but her willingness to try and salvage the marriage is as honest as it comes, even though her feelings might not be there yet. It feels like hearing Fuyumi talk, hearing the same desperation and blindness in putting things together. It’s hard to understand her foolishness, but Shouto tried to trust her. Shouto’s opinion might have been persuaded a little when his father announced that they’ll be moving houses due to mom’s tense reaction to the place. It’s a plus that his dad is willing to do that for his wife, but Shouto is still keeping an eye on them.

Then things get better, but their comfort doesn’t stop. Shouto is comfortable in following his desires without questioning them, but he quizically finds that Katsuki seeks him too even though he no longer approach Shouto with that near tears scowl, and situation bomb.

“How’s your mom?” Katsuki asked out of the blue under the summer blue sky. They’re sitting by the school lawn, their backs to a tree trunk, their friends strangely been leaving them alone.

“She’s fine.”

“Then why did you want to meet here?” Katsuki murmurs, looking down at the comic book Shouto lends him but not reading it. The tips of his ears are red.

Oh, Katsuki is testing the waters, “I just want to be with you.”

Katsuki flushes, “Ew, where the fuck did you even get that cheesy line.”

Shouto pays the snark no mind. “We haven't had any excuses for being together lately, do we?”

Katsuki hums.

“Do you not like it?”

“It’s fine,” Katsuki grumbles.

“Say... If I ask you to go to a cat cafe this Saturday, will you go?”

“Satan in hell, cat cafe again? I still have fucking fur on my black jacket from the previous visit! I felt like we’ve been to all the cat cafes in the country!”

Shouto pouts, “That’s not possible.”

“Let’s go hiking instead.”

“Okay.”

Katsuki twist his head towards him, “You would?”

“Just us two right?”

“Obviously, there’s no way I’m taking those extras. Those nature documentaries made them wimps.”

Shouto only listened to the first word he uttered, “I’ll go with you.”

Then Katsuki looks him that way again. Soft eyes, relaxed eyebrows, fond stares, and the most devastating of all, a small genuine smile.

“Cool. Come to my place, we have to wake up early. I miss seeing the sunset there, it’s awesome.” There’s light in his maroon eyes, excited to go, and he’s taking Shouto with him to his hobby, his precious place.

Shouto feels warmth radiating from his chest all the way down to his toes, a smile blooms on his face. He’s been feeling this mysterious warmth pretty often lately, only now has he realized that Shouto is happy and that he hasn’t been lonely despite his current family strain.

Katsuki’s rambling about his favorite hiking spot is cut short when Shouto leans in to kiss the corner of his lips. The smile is exchanged with shocked parted lips. Shouto feels himself shrink by the silence of Katsuki’s loud mouth and the pinning stare of his sharp eyes. Blood rushed to Shouto’s cheeks, knowing that he’s blushing up a storm, suddenly nervous.

“Is that okay?” Shout asks, too cowardly to say that he wants more, closer, to continue being together for no reason at all other than just because.

“No.”

He’s grabbed by the face, and a pair of lips pressed against his. Shouto expected to be bitten, his head clawed, and his lips bruised. But the weeks he spent with Katsuki should’ve made him know better. Because the gentle hands cradling his face, the complete capture of his lips, and the soft nips are all unsurprising. Shouto melts away, leaning his whole weight so they’re chest to chest. He grabs Katsuki by the hips, pulling closer, kissing back.

Katsuki hums, and the vibration echoes on Shouto’s body deliciously. Katsuki’s lips taste sweet and hot as it moves to nibble Shouto’s bottom lip. The hands cupping his face moves past his neck. One is clutching his back and the other plays with the hair at the back of his head. Fingers card gently around his nape and Shouto has a whole body shiver.

Then the lips go missing, and Shouto goes limp in Katsuki’s arms, gasping for breath on his chest.

“And that’s how you kiss, Strawberry Shortcake,” Katsuki says smugly, patting Shouto’s back condescendingly.

Shouto scoffs and leans back. Katsuki still has that fond eyes as he looks at him, but now paired with a cheeky smirk. Shouto wants to kiss that too, and Shouto does.

From then on, it’s expected that he sometimes steps down his icy stairs just to cuddle with Katsuki, and it’s perfectly acceptable that Katsuki barges into his room and starts pulling his hand towards wherever he wants.

They’d still bicker sometimes, and sometimes Shouto unintentionally steps on some lines that set Katsuki to explode. Sometimes Katsuki is frustrated with him. Those days they fight makes him nervous.

But they always say their apologies eventually. Katsuki always comes back and tries again with him. Even when the fights are between them, they eventually get over it and get better while they’re still leaning onto each other for comfort.

Eventually, Shouto keeps the coffin ashtray in his keepsake instead of his pocket.

He’d like to think that he can finally let her go now that she’s proven right.

Shouto finds someone that loves him, someone that makes him happy, and someone that doesn’t leave.

++++

nicknames that didn't make it: Colgate toothpaste, hot pocket, tide pod, dry ice. nicknames that I magically forgot: Half and half.

Tag yourself as Shouto’s nickname, I’m water dispenser.

#todobaku #bakutodo #todoroki shouto #todoroki shōto #bakugo katsuki #todobaku fic #todobaku fanfic #Todobaku fanfiction #emocel's #I'm crying #i googled shouto's nickname for this #I saw 'Strawberry Shorcake' and I lose my mind #I saw a trope that Bakugo smells like caramel becs of his quirk and i lose my mind #todoroki shoto fluff #boku no hero #boku no hero fanfic #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction

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