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againstacecilia · 11 months ago

Text

No Words Needed

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, blood, near-death experience leading to emotional confession, mention of alcohol but in a simile so no drinking.

A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to @sweetercalypso! I had so much fun writing this and I hope you like it. It isn't really holiday themed, but you said "partners to lovers" and my brain ran with it because it's such a good trope. 🙈

“Din, look out!” Your voice bounces through the cockpit, hands flying over the controls of the borrowed U-wing as the Mandalorian next to you struggles to control the ship. Unyielding winds buffet every side and puffs of labored breath escape Din’s helmet.

“I’m-” he coughs, wet and sticky- “I’m trying.” Arms shaking, he finally pulls the yoke up to level the U-wing over the barren landscape of your unlikely sanctuary.

It wasn’t your first choice to land on Nentan; nothing but rocky spires and unchecked winds greet you through the viewport. It was becoming more and more clear, however, that making it all the way to Station 88 wasn’t going to be possible if whatever injury Din had sustained fleeing Baltizaar wasn’t taken care of. Usually the best pilot you knew, Din’s flying had diminished significantly since leaving your pursuers behind on the small planet.

Taking charge of the flight controls, you keep one eye on Din as you lower the ship to the planet’s dense surface. His hands never loosen their grip on the yoke, but the tension radiating off him shakes his entire body. Sweat darkens the cowl covering the skin of his neck.

The moment the ship is settled and engines are cut, you yank him from his chair and support him down the few steps from the cockpit to the crew hold. No other people came on this run, they would’ve just slowed you down, but the reinforced bench in the middle of the room was kept in place. The full weight of man and beskar collapse on the padded surface with a groan.

You aren’t sure what happened. The blur of running full out to the ship, blaster bolts whizzing past your head, heart pumping adrenaline through your limbs, it all drowned out everything not happening immediately within your line of sight. Grabbing the first aid kit, you fall to your knees next to Din’s prone form.

“Tell me what happened,” you demand, rolling the Mandalorian onto his back. “Where are you hurt?”

Silence is the only answer you receive.

“Din?” Your hands still on the latch to the first aid kit. With the lights on in the hold, you have a better look at what you were observing in the cockpit. His body still shakes, and more blotches of dark fabric show just how much he’s sweating under all the armor. Your eyes light on his cowl, now noticing just how dark the fabric is there compared to the rest of his body…

Reaching your hand up to move the garment away, you notice the shock of red painted along the pads of your fingers. What you mistook for sweat is actually blood, and a flare of panic courses through you.

“No,” you whisper, pulling the cowl away fully and exposing a frightening slice stretching around Din’s throat. Without pausing, you fumble with the bindings of his armor, needing access to more than the sliver of skin you can see. You know about his Creed, you know you can’t remove his helmet, but he never said anything about the rest of his armor.

While your fingers desperately try to work the clips and buckles securing his chest plate, tears burn the corners of your eyes. “Come on, Din, not like this. I need you to say something. I need you to wake up and tell me what to do…”

Finally slipping the layer of armor off his chest, you tear the fabric of the cowl to get it away from his neck. A base layer long-sleeve sticks to Din’s body, sweat and blood indistinguishable as they mingle and drench the fabric. You rip the collar down the middle, not caring about what you were ruining as the full wound is exposed. The tears finally fall free as you survey the damage.

A nasty gash haunts his bronze neck. Someone must have gotten a lucky swing with a vibro-blade as the two of you ran from the group protecting your bounty. How Din had even managed to get to the ship, let alone gotten you into sub-light without you even knowing he was wounded, completely mystifies you. The blood loss alone…

Setting your hands moving again, you rifle through the first aid kit to find the tools you need. Soaking a sterile pad in the disinfectant, you steady your hands to get cleaning when orange-tipped fingers wrap around your wrist.

“Din!” You exclaim, eyes searching the dirty visor for any sign of lucidity.

His words barely register through the modulator in his helmet. You watch his throat work through a painful swallow before he says, “Where are we?”

“Nentan,” you answer. “Don’t speak, I need to take care of this cut. You’ve bled too much, you need to just focus on staying awake.”

“Cyare,” he says, the word unfamiliar to your ears, “it’s dangerous that we stopped. They’ll be looking for us.”

You shake your head. “They didn’t follow us off-world. We’ve been alone since we broke atmosphere. Now hush.”

As you try to remove your hand from his grip, he squeezes tighter. “I can’t let them hurt you, we need to-” that sickly cough wracks his body again, blood again oozing from the wound- “we need to go. Now.”

While he talks, his chest begins to heave. His breathing becomes shallow and fast and panic seems to grip at him as surely as he holds onto you. He even goes as far as to try to sit up with a cry of pain. Placing your free hand on his chest, you gently push him down and look into where you assume his eyes to be, saying as confidently as you can, “We are safe. We were not followed, and I need to take care of this wound so please let me do that. Let me take care of you.”

His fingers cling to you for another heartbeat before letting go and dropping to the bench. You work in silence, counting every one of his too-shallow breaths as you clean the cut along his throat. Once you’re satisfied with your handiwork, you open a bacta patch and apply it to his fevered skin.

Hating to leave his side, you begin to clean up the mess of the hold. Garbage gets bagged and the first aid kit gets put away, security measures are triple checked, and all seems to settle for a moment.

After the longest half hour of your life, Din begins to stir.

“Hey, be careful,” you whisper, dropping again to his side. “You shouldn’t move too much yet.”

He nods, his chest rising and falling with a cautious full breath. Relief floods your veins at the sight. At least the bacta was working. You lean your back against the bench and let your muscles relax, breathing deeply to ground yourself. He’s safe, you think to yourself. We’re going to be fine.

In the stillness of the hold, your mind starts to wander and his words creep back into your memory. “Din, can I ask you something?”

His helmet turns to look in your direction.

“What does cyare mean?”

The silence continues for another handful of heartbeats. You begin to wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but then he’s slowly sitting up, brushing off your attempts to help him. Gently, so gently, he takes your hands and pulls you onto the bench beside him.

Angling his body to face you, your hands still wrapped in his, Din begins to speak. “Cyare is a term of endearment in Mando’a, the language of my people. It means…” He pauses, shoulders rising and falling with a slow, intentional breath. “It means beloved.”

Confusion and something akin to hope flares in your chest. “Din…”

“As we were running for the ship, one of the guys chasing us was catching up to you. He slipped by me while I was distracted fighting off one of the others. I managed to get the guy off me after he got my neck, but I didn’t care about the wounds. All I cared about was keeping this guy away from you. So I ran. I ran as hard as I could so I could catch up to that bastard. I didn’t even think to use my blaster because my instinct was to use my own two hands to protect you.

“In the end, I slid my knife between his ribs and left him lying on the ground, following you as you leapt into the ship.” The cold fury in his voice as he describes what he did settles into your bones. You had no idea all this had happened right behind you not more than a couple of hours ago.

“What does this have to do with-”

“I’m telling you this,” he says, voice instantly warmer and softer, “because you have to know that I care for you. When he threatened you, I realized that everything I’ve been lying to myself about not feeling… It was all real. And you needed to know.

“I should have told you sooner,” Din’s voice catches and he clears his throat, “but I was scared. Scared that telling you how I feel about you would change whatever it is we have. But after today…” His head drops with a sigh.

“Din,” you angle your head to try and meet his gaze through the inky blackness of his helmet, coaxing him to lift his head again, “we’ve been working together for months. Been stranded on planets and ripped away from people we love… Did you think I would run away from this? From you?”

He goes still as night as your words sink in, visor finally lifted to you again. You pause to consider all of the emotions barreling through you, to figure out how to explain that the thundering of your heart isn’t from fear or that the tears lining your eyes aren’t from pain; it’s all from joy. Joy filling you like honeyed wine and warming you down through your very soul.

While scanning his helmet, you remember a story he told you once. About a way Mandalorians show affection when other displays weren’t possible due to their Creed. As the memory sparks, you realize words aren’t needed to tell him how you feel.

Closing your eyes, you gently rest your forehead against the cold beskar of his helmet. Din’s fingers tighten around yours, the warmth of his hands seeping through the worn leather and settling into your skin. A shudder runs through his body.

“We’re in this together,” you whisper, opening your eyes and pulling away with a smile. The sun starts to peek through the windows of the ship, warm light bathing the hold and sparkling off the armored man in front of you.

He nods, pulling you into his arms. “Together.”

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gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan · 6 months ago

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Brand New Day

Author's note: Jophiel's debut in Husbandry.

Summary: You encounter a wounded astartes. He looks... different thank you expected. You heard that Dark Angels could look Angelic, but you didn't know they had angel wings.

Warnings: none? Let me know if I need to add something.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

You had heard something rustling around in your barn recently, something large, which was concerning you. You eyed your cattle, none of them seemed particularly spooked and your guardian dogs, herder dogs and your 'recon cats' as you called them. They were excellent mousers and helped guide your guardian dogs to trouble spots that they noticed.

One of your mouser cats had entered the barn recently, but had yet to come out. So, carefully, cautiously you entered the barn to see what had entered the barn that shouldn't be in there. At first all you can see is feathers- you blink in surprise, massive white feathers floating down as you go through your head what kind of bird had such massive white feathers, and come up blank.

Then you spot something dark, almost blood red and see the massive form of an Astartes. You had heard of Astartes, and knew of some of your cousins in the city had an Astartes, and you'd seen videos and read stories about them online, but no one had told you that some of them could have wings. At least, not Loyalist Space Marines.

The Chaos ones could come in an almost insane variety of forms, some more human-looking while others are looking almost eldtritch in nature. You'd head that some of the 'Death Guard' could have insect-like wings. While some of the skull-faced Space Marines, known as Night Lords could have bat wings. But you haven't heard of Space Marines having Bird wings.

You see that his helmet is off and he looks unconscious. He has long blonde hair and light-colored skin. You fluster a little, as he looks so handsome with large white wings spread out haphazardly. The armor that the space marine had looked like it was broken in several places, which had you frowning in concern as you fumble for your phone to try and contact someone who knew someone that could get one of the medically inclined Space Marines over to where you were as you could see blood pooling and clotting around him.

Before you can finish entering the phone number a large hand grabs the phone and pulls it from your grip. You jump back, startled, and wide eyed, some how for someone so big and wounded he'd moved so fast. He chirps and trills at you in the language of the Space Marines frowning at the device and he says something in their language. You guess that he doesn't want to get any one involved as you gently take the device and turn off the phone.

"Okay buddy," You say nervously, but trying to keep a soothing tone.

He tilts his head and looks at you with deep red eyes, a questioning trill in response to your words.

"I won't call anyone," You say, "but you are hurt and need help."

You gesture at his wounds as he looks to where you gesture as he frowns at his wounds. Then looks back at you with another bird-like movement. You nibble on your lower lip trying to figure out how to communicate with a very large, very dangerous sentient being that doesn't know a language that you do, who's wounded and likely upset.

"I can get bandages to help you heal," You offer to the wounded Space Marine in the armor of a Blood Angel.

He chirps and trills at you and as you slowly move, he follows after you carefully, slowly, his feathers and wings which had half mantled like a bird's threat display had slowly de-mantled and he'd slowly closed his wings behind his back as he followed after you are chirping and trilling.

His voice was very melodic, and a calm fell over you. He didn't want you to contact anyone, but you knew you could help him with the bandages and other first aid equipment that was good to have on hand, just in case.

So, you carefully get out your medical supplies and slowly turn to the Blood Angel Space marine and nervously eye the large, you thought that he was a bit larger than normal for a Blood Angel, but you have only seen videos and pictures of Space Marines, so he could be normal size for a Space Marine.

"I know that you can't really understand me, and I can't really understand you," You say carefully, "But I want to help you and part of that is you need to remove your armor so that I can help patch you up since you don't want me to call for help."

You try to project confidence, calm and an aura of I-want-to-help-you. Which has the Blood Angel chirping and trilling down at you tilting his head from side to side before slowly removing the parts of his armor that reveals the nasty wounds on his chest and sides. You slowly approach, narrating, rambling almost, what it is you are doing and the next step. Half remembering your first aid classes.

Although, he does seem to be healing on his own. The rumors about Space Marines having a crazy fast healing factor is something that you now know is fact and truth, instead of just the ramblings of people on the internet, which should be taken with a heaping of salt and knowing that it's likely inaccurate to some degree.

He had quietly watched you only letting out the occasional hiss of pain, mostly keeping still and silent as he watches you intensely. Such vivid red eyes and long golden locks. He's still very handsome, if somewhat intimidating. You immediately scold yourself for getting distracted by his musculature.

You scold yourself for getting distracted by how handsome he looks; how warm he feels underneath your fingers as you carefully tend to his wounds. He is trilling at you again, voice softer as he gently grabs one of your hands with his after you finish tending his wounds. He croons at you, likely thank you for the help.

"You are welcome," You say slightly flustered.

He trills at you again, and as you go about your day, he follows you around, occasionally singing at you in Space Marine Language. He occasionally helps you out, carefully grabbing and lifting heavy things, even though it makes you worry and fuss that he'll open up his injuries as he sing-talks to you some more.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #warhammer #adeptus astartes #oc: Jophiel #blood angel #blood angel oc #primaris marine #primaris blood angel

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gothushi · 7 months ago

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pressure

pairing: rob x photographer!reader

warnings: mild decsription of injuries, hurt/comfort

note: here u go!! next chapter will be All Porn🩷

word count: 6.8k

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | this is part 4! | part 5

———————♡

It’s so cold, heavy, as your limbs flail uselessly.

The rushing current drags your body, feet knocking into the bottom of the river as you finally surface above water, gasping and coughing hard. Your heart is pounding in your throat, you feel like you might get sick or faint, maybe both, hands pawing out to feeling around for anything to grab onto. You twist, turn, this way and that, trying to find Rob.

His head is bobbing above water just ahead, gasping, and your eyes catch sight of.. red. He’s struggling to keep himself afloat, blood staining the back of his shirt that gets carried downstream, washing away the scents of your bodies. A distant roar is heard but that’s not the concern for now, not as Rob yells out and his eyes lock with yours.

Out of pure strength do you manage to push yourself forward and latch onto his hand that reaches out, holding on so tight you think your nails break skin. The water carries you further down the river for another moment, to a more shallow part until you can wash up onto the side of the rocky shore.

The weight of your soaked backpack weighs you down, Rob on his front gasping for air as you cough, crawling and dragging him up, letting the bag hit the ground with a thud. Absolutely exhausted, your limbs tremble, soaked to the bone and shivering.

His hand tightens on yours, he’d rather lose the hand than let go. The current washed over his legs, carrying your scents away downstream. Wheezing a panting breath, cold adrenaline runs through your veins. Another cough, rough on your throat, and then your eyes focus on Rob.

His shoulder is torn up, bleeding from lined gashes that ripped his shirt, “Rob-” His eyes are lidded, temple stained red with blood, wounds on his shoulder blade at least a foot in length.

For a moment he doesn’t respond, but as your hand shakes his, his eyes flutter open and he takes in a shuddering breath, grimacing. His other arm twists under his head, trying to reach back and touch his shoulder but you stop him. His eyes are unfocused, vision hazy as he looks up at you, “Y/N..?” His voice is hoarse, breathing quick.

You’re not even thinking right, on autopilot as you let go of his hand and start digging in your soaked pack. C’mon, where is it? It was at the bottom, it has to be- here! Shaking hands grab the white box, a first aid kit you always thought might be a bit silly but has essentials in it to help. The blood keeps flowing as you snap the lid open, finding the contents dry, gauze pads sticking to your wet hands. His hand reaches out, saying your name again, disoriented and in pain.

“Hang on-” You press the gauze pad down onto his shoulder blade, drawing a throaty groan of pain from him, your body slowly steeling your nerves in favor for pure survival panic. You press hard, needing to try and stop the bleeding, hoping it isn’t too deep. Blood keeps dripping as you add more gauze pads, almost immediately having gone through all of them, keeping them pressed down as one hand fumbles with the bandage wrap.

He says your name again, “Y/N.. Y/N look at me,,”

“You’re- you’re bleeding! What?! What is it!” You snap, panting with panic, unraveling the thin bandage wrap and letting it roll around on the rocks.

“I’m fine,” he manages, rapsy, his hand trying to grab at you, “Y/N it’s okay..” He struggles to focus his vision, his breathing heavy as he continues to watch with lidded eyes as you panic, “Just keep.. pressure on it.” The blood drips down his skin, temple bleeding down his cheek.

It’s now that you realize hot tears are wetting your cheeks, blending with the water dripping off your skin, “Okay, okay,” Your voice is wavering, barely choking out the words. He must’ve hit his head when you fell. What if he passes out? God. What are you gonna do?A hand gathers the wrap and loops it under him, doing a messy job of wrapping and wrapping around his shoulder and neck, trying to keep the gauze in place.

His eyes start to flutter, like he’s struggling to stay awake. His hand finds your knee, trying to grab on as dizziness swarms his skull. Words come out slurred, “I’m gonna pass out,” he mumbles, eyes closing again, “just.. keep pressure.”

“No- no Rob please.” This is your breaking point, panicked and scared, “Don’t, please stay awake, where do I go? Wh-” You’re panting, crying, “What direction do we go? The car?” You tie off the wrap the best you can, fishing out one of your tank tops to dab at his bleeding temple, trembling hand cradling his head.

His breathing seems to be more shallow, his grasp at your knee wavering. His lips part to speak but he falters, brows raising as he coughs. His eyes close again and his strength begins to fade, “Car is.. down. Down.. down stream.”

No no no no, “No please- Rob! No I need you to-” You whimper, shaking your head quickly, petting over him, blood smearing on his skin from your fingers.

His head weighs down on your hand as he loses consciousness.

“No! Rob no- I,” You can’t do this by yourself, please. The sun has set by now, the jungle turning dark with minimal moonlight shining through the clouds and trees. Sniffling, you press onto the wound in his temple. He’s fainted, and you’re left in the middle of the jungle, at night, no shelter in sight.

The sounds of the night echo out, the calls of wild animals and the rush of the water grow louder now without the thudding in your ears, or without the roar of the dinosaur. Sniffling, you will yourself to not break down fully. You barely feel anything, not the various wounds your body carries, the sprain in your wrist, nor the chill from being soaked from the water.

Leaving his vest and your pack is an easy choice, camera bag staying all because it was too much work to undo the strap tangled around your arm. Shifting over to kneel fully beside him, you lift his arm up, dragging his front onto your back. Sheer adrenaline powers your body to lift him on shaking legs, arms over your shoulders. His feet may drag on the ground but.. he’s up. You’re carrying him.

Hunched forward to keep the pressure even so you don’t drop him, it all weighs on you as you walk forward, following the stream of water. Your heart pounds up in your ears, eyes straining to see in the dark, hands keeping a firm grip on his forearms. His weight makes you stagger, nearly falling a few times, but you press on.

—

What feels like five minutes, has really been an hour and a half. You don’t know how you do it. Your legs ache and tremble with every step, carrying his deadweight along. You must black out or something, become possessed with some other force. At one point you stumble away from the stream, continuing forward when you find dirt road. Panting with tears welling in your eyes, blurring your vision, you see the outline of a jeep maybe 100 feet away.

Whimpering in pure relief, rushing towards it with a limp in your step, you let go of one of his arms to open the passenger door. Getting him into the car is much less of a struggle than the last hour has been, situating him with the seatbelt on. You shut the door and have to brace yourself against the hood, walking around the car to clamber into the drivers seat, key still in the ignition. Sticky blood covers your clothes in various spots, wounds that you barely feel starting to peek through, surface over the adrenaline.

—

When Rob next wakes, he’s in a bed. As his eyes blink open, he sees he’s in a… hospital room. Dark, a sliver of light coming from what must be the hallway. He’s in a white gown, IV in his arm, multiple bandages on his body. He can feel a deep ache in his muscles, smaller scrapes that are clean littering his arms and hands. His head is bandaged, thick gauze covering his shoulder blade, a cut stitched together on his forearm.

As if on cue, the door squeaks further open and a nurse walks in with a few items in her hands. She glances up and is surprised yet pleased as she speaks, “You’re awake!”

He stares at her as she walks in, “Where am I?” is the immediate question, voice hoarse.

“Casimiro Ulloa Hospital.” She answers softly, walking to his IV pole to change the bag on it.

“How long have I been out?”

“You’ve been here for six hours. It’s early in the morning now. I’m Layla, your nurse.” She takes down the empty saline bag and hangs another, administering some other medicine within it as well, the cool liquid felt in his veins.

But… how did he get here? The last thing he remembers is the dinosaur.. grabbing you.. falling..

“Six hours?” He groans softly, watching her movements. “How did I end up here?”

Layla fixes a bandage coming loose on his arm, “A gentleman named Mark brought you and your friend here, you were both in pretty bad shape.”

Mark, from the research lab? “Where’s my friend?” Blue eyes study her, flashes of memory slowly coming back.

“Your friend,” she starts, “is a very lucky lady. She was worse than you. She was asleep last a nurse checked on her.”

“That’s…” he trails off, staring as she writes down the time on the whiteboard on the wall, for his latest pain medicine dose, 8:23AM. “Worse than me? Is she okay?”

“Exhaustion, several contusions, a few other injuries like yourself but nothing fatal.” She shakes her head as she turns back to him, smiling.

Rob gives a sigh of relief, nodding a little, “So.. how badly am I hurt?”

“Well,” she steps back over, grabbing the clipboard at the end of his bed, “a few contusions and scrapes, nothing serious. Your left shoulder blade was cut up in the animal attack, and you hit your head, a minor concussion. We did some scans and everything is okay, you just need rest now.” She speaks softly and explains in simple terms. He’s just so confused as to how he got back, what happened?

“We’re giving you our best care, and the gentleman who brought you both in requested I call when either of you woke up, so I’ll be doing that. I have some other patients to check on so I’ll be back in a few hours, try to get some more sleep.” She smiles at him and then leaves, pulling the door halfway shut.

His eyes follow until she’s gone, and takes a moment to understand it all. It’s fuzzy, but he remembers you both hiking as the sun set, trying to get back to the car. He remembers the growling of the dinosaur, the way it stalked you two down. He remembers how… how tightly you held onto his hand.. before it all became blurry. Pain, coldness, the water.

He knows he should stay put, but his worry overpowers logic. Slightly disoriented from the fresh pain medication, he pushes himself on weak limbs to sit up. Socked feet find the tile floor, taking his time to get up and out of bed. The IV tube dangles as his hand grabs the pole, dragging it with him as he ventures out into the hallway. The pain is numbed due to the medication, fuzzy in his muscles that he knows he’ll be feeling later. Pulling the pole along, he shuffles along the brown tile, into the hallway. A nurse station isn’t too far, and a dark haired girl gets up and walks over to him, “You should still be in bed.”

He’s stubborn though, and he hears himself grumble, “Where’s my friend? Is she awake?”

The nurse in pink scrubs seems to hesitate, before sighing through her nose and moving back to the counter, “What’s her name?”

“Y/N.” He says simply, mildly impatient. “Y/N L/N.”

She glances at some charts before walking back over to him, “C’mon, I’ll help you.” She holds his arm gently, helping him walk down the hallway a few doors down.

Knocking lightly, she leads him into the dim room, “She must still be asleep.” The nurse informs softly, rounding the corner and.. oh.

You’re laid in the hospital bed, sleeping, leg propped with a pillow under your right knee. A thin cast is on your left wrist, bandages covering small scrapes, purpled bruises on different parts of your body. Rob’s eyes widen, taking in the sight. He’s.. relieved but still so worried, coming a bit closer, “Is she..? Is she alright?”

The nurse steps over and takes a look at your chart, reading over it quickly. “She had extensive injuries but she’s been treated and will recover. A sprained wrist, she tore a tendon in her knee, she was exhausted just like you. But she will be okay. Looks like they ran a few tests and everything came back good.”

He gives a sigh, “Nothing life threatening..” He confirms softly.

“No,” she shakes her head, setting the chart back down, “contusions, scrapes, just surface wounds same as you. We don’t know the full story obviously but.. all the nurses on this floor know you two were in the jungle. I heard some talking about how she carried you back to your car, we don’t know exactly how you both got your injuries though.” It clicks in his brain that it must’ve been from falling.

She sees how worried he seems, and crosses her arms. “I’ll make you a deal. They serve breakfast in fourty-five minutes, if you’re back in your room before then I won’t tell your nurse you got out of bed, okay?”

He glances at her, surveying her expression before nodding, trying to give a smile, “Yeah.. Thank you.” She leaves with that, leaving him alone to walk to the other side of your bed and tug a chair closer, sitting down.

He tries so hard to remember more. Remember anything that happened after you fell, but nothing comes to mind. You’re so still, motionless besides your chest rising and falling with each breath. He just stares, his hand slipping into yours as he looks over the bandages and bruises. In the quiet sense of solitude, Rob struggles with an odd feeling of guilt.

It feels like forever passes, but it’s only been ten minutes before you stir, brows furrowing before your eyes flutter and blink open. It catches his attention immediately, sitting up a little more to lean forward, thumb rubbing over your own. Your eyes look at the ceiling, seeming to orient yourself, looking towards the light that comes from the hallway before you feel warmth on your hand, turning your head.

There he is.

He swallows, adjusting in the chair, “Hey…”

“Rob.” You breathe out, wincing when you try to move. As a reflex your eyes shut and your head pushes into the pillow some.

“Easy..” He fusses softly, hand sliding over yours in a comforting manner. He wants to hug you, to take away your pain, make this all better somehow. But he can’t.

You exhale slowly, looking back at him, down at your connected hands, “You’re okay..” You mumble out, eyes flitting over his body.

He nods, managing a small smile, a chuckle escaping him to cover up the pure worry he feels, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit beat up.”

Your eyes linger on the edge of the bandage that covers his shoulder blade and you swallow, looking to the bandage on his head. You aren’t sure what to say, nor can you really think straight right now, so exhausted.

Rob can tell, can see it in your face, brows furrowed a little. He lets go of your hand to reach up, brushing some hair from your forehead, “I’m glad you’re okay..” He whispers, voice soft.

That seems to be the tipping point, because tears well up and your throat tightens, lip wobbling and voice wavering, “You too.”

You start to cry before he can comprehend it, his hand cradling your cheek and delivering a soothing warmth to the otherwise chilly flesh. “Hey..” his thumb swipes at a few salty tears, “I’m okay.. I’m more worried about you.” He murmurs, and the words carry truth in them.

Trying not to cry too hard, you lean into his hand, keeping your eyes on his face, “‘m fine.. I was- I was worried about you..”

“Shh..” The guilt and concern is palpable, “I’m okay.. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Sniffling, you hiccup on a sob, “I was-.. so scared… we fell and you- you hit your head.. I cari-carried you t’the car..” All the panic, fear, adrenaline, it’s all washed away now that we’re safe, flooding your emotions.

“You carried me?” he asks quietly, a bit surprised. Sure the nurse told him what others heard, but he wasn’t fully sure. But hearing it from you.. and on that injured knee? “Sweetheart..”

You must see the way his eyes flit to your leg for a moment, your hand curling onto his forearm, “I didn’.. didn’ feel it.” You shake your head a little, breaking down into more whimpers, “I didn’t feel anything, I was so scared.” Pure adrenaline powered you to.. to save him.

“Sh sh shh.. It’s okay. You did such a good job..” He whispers softly, in pure awe of the strength you displayed, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone.

He sits and soothes you for about five minutes, before the tears finally slow down to sniffles, and he dries your face off with some of the tissues on the small bedside table.

“‘m tired..”

“I know..” he whispers back, tucking hair behind your ear. The physical exhaustion, the emotional weight of it all, it’s taken a toll on both of you. He feels guilty, like he should’ve done better, been better, but he doesn’t feel like apologizing is right, “Y’did so good.. you got us both out of there.. I’m so proud of you.”

If you had any more tears left, they’d be flowing again. But it’s all gone for now, too tired, eyes lidded as they look at him. He smiles softly, reassuring, “Go back to sleep, they’re gonna make me go back to my room but I’ll come back, okay?”

“Okay..” There’s no room for argument, you’ll need to sleep for two days to regain the strength you used up.

—

The next couple hours prove to be a bit boring, stuck in his own room with nothing but the TV to keep him company. His nurse agreed to only let him visit you later on in the day, because you both need plenty of rest, and he really had no choice but to obey. However, a knock on his door catches his attention as Mark walks in, a bag in his hand.

“Thank God you two are okay.” He sighs, coming over to Rob’s bedside.

“Mark? What happened?” The nurse said he’s the one who brought you both to the hospital, so he figures he can get more answers.

“How much do you remember?” Mark pulls up a chair, taking a seat next to the hospital bed.

“Well.. I think just up until we fell.. did she tell you about that?”

“Yeah she..” Mark hesitates, “She told me everything. I’m so glad you guys are okay.” He reiterates his point, “Y/N said you two fell and she had to carry you back to the car, she said Carlos left you guys?”

“Yeah that first night he-.. he took off when we heard something in the forest.” Now we know what that something was..

“He came back and said there was an attack.. said it was a pack of big cats. He said you guys were dead.”

“He what?”

“Yeah I-.. don’t worry he’ll suffer the repercussions of that decision. I promise.” Mark assures softly, clasping his hands together, “She said it was a dinosaur. Is it really true?”

Rob hesitates, because honestly it probably hasn’t settled in for him. But he nods, “Yeah.. really.”

“God.. it’s a miracle you two got out.. she drove all the way back and came to the lab, it’s even more of a miracle she didn’t faint behind the wheel…” He glances towards the door and then back at Rob, “We have a search team out right now, we’re keeping radio contact for updates. Don’t worry, if the others are still out there, we’ll find them.”

That eases Rob’s worry somewhat, especially because he knows he can’t help. It’s difficult to wrap his head around the entire thing, but that’ll take time. “You’ll let me know the moment they find anything..?”

Mark nods, “Of course. Oh- I brought your personal items, and Marissa went and bought some clothes for you guys. They’ll discharge you tomorrow.” He lifts the bag he previously sat down on the floor and starts pulling a few things out. Rob’s cell phone, wallet, keys, the personal items they leave behind when setting out on an expedition. He sets those on the table along with a t-shirt and a pair of thin sweats and some slides.

“She didn’t have to-”

“Oh don’t. You almost died. Some cheap clothes was the least we could do.” Mark mutters, brushing off Rob’s worry.

“Well… thank you. And thank you for bringing us here. Are you gonna check on her?”

He nods in reply, “Yeah, I got her stuff too.” He stands up, reaching to put a hand on Rob’s uninjured shoulder, “I’ll call you with any updates, okay? Just get some rest.”

“Yeah..” He manages a smile in response, nodding, “thank you Mark.”

—

The day is spent resting, and he sneaks off to see you for a bit longer, even though you’re asleep, before he gets caught by his nurse and scolded. The next morning however, he’s just finished getting dressed after a nurse gave him his discharge papers and was told a cab was waiting down at the lobby for him. Must be courtesy of Mark. Peeking into your room proves no luck because it’s already empty, and he finds you down in the lobby stood with some crutches.

“Hey..” The air between you two is tense, but not in a bad way. Now that you’re not in immediate danger there’s… other things left to confront. Like the obvious feelings for each other, the kiss.. but now doesn’t seem like the correct time.

Your eyes meet his, dressed in similar clothes to him, managing a small smile, “Hi..”

“Y’ready to get outta here? Do you have somewhere to go?” Rob’s hand finds your back, being mindful to not outstretch his injured arm too much.

Nodding, you respond softly, watching the people and workers go by, “Yeah.. the company rents a hotel for me.. you?”

“I rent, yeah, near the edge of the city.” That means it’s a bit farther than you, and in the opposite direction. So much for your small hope of sharing a taxi. You notice a white car pull up and gesture slightly.

“I think that’s me..” You glance up at him, color in your cheeks due to the warmth felt from the doors opening and closing as people come and go. “I’ll um..” Call him? See him later? You’re about to part ways and you don’t really know when or where you’ll see each other again. You don’t even-

“I’ll call you.” He smiles softly, rubbing your back. He can tell you seem relieved with his answer, a sheepish smile spreading on your face.

“Okay.. yeah, sounds good.” Adjusting on your crutches, you hesitate before reaching out and tugging him down to kiss his cheek, “Bye Rob.” And then he watches as you step outside and get into the cab.

—

Processing everything is.. hard. You spend a lot of time just laying in bed in your hotel room, hours having spent bathing to try and wash away the anxiety and fear you feel. Well into the night it hits a little, and you sob for quite a while. So worried for the others, grieving Lisa, even spending time looking through all the pictures you took, camera connected to your laptop. The television keeps you company through the night because you swear you can still hear that snarly growling.

—

The next night around 7:00PM, you rouse from your sleep due to your phone ringing. Blindly reaching for it, light of the TV flashing over the otherwise dark room. Almost missing the call, you find the answer button and slide the phone to your ear, groggily speaking, “Hello?”

The sound of your voice immediately makes Rob’s mind and body rush with emotions, his heart skipping a beat. A little smile grows on his face, speaking softly, “Hey.. it’s me.”

He hears some shuffling over the phone, as if you’re sitting up in bed, “Mm- hey. Sorry- I just woke up.” Clearing your throat, you rub a hand over your face.

His heartbeat increases a little with each second he hears your voice, and he can’t help but smile. You sound sleepy, which he finds absolutely adorable, “That’s fine. I was just, uh..” He tries to think of what to say, he didn’t plan this far ahead, stumbling over his words a little.

Keeping the phone to your ear, you yawn, sitting upright and massaging the muscle of your thigh, sore and aching. You feel more bashful now, in this somewhat normal setting, almost like a middle schooler with her first crush.

“So, you got some sleep?” He finds his words finally, a slight chuckle leaving his lips.

“Mmm.. yeah.” You answer, and Rob can hear some more shuffling and light footsteps as you walk around your hotel room. Seeming to hesitate, you ask, “Did you?”

“I.. didn’t. Not much anyway. My mind was too busy.” He feels himself falter a little, though he quickly recovers, “I’m just.. Thinking about a few things.”

“I get it.” You mutter. Your own mind has been a mess, between all that happened, a fucking dinosaur, worrying for the others, to how you feel about him, it’s all a scramble that won’t quiet down.

Rob wishes he could take it all away, could help ease your mind. He feels like the only thing he wants right now in this moment is to hold you, to not let go. He exhales before speaking again, a little softer, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m.. I’m okay.” You answer after a moment, “Just.. still a bit tired. The medicine they gave me makes me kinda groggy, but.. honestly it’s helping me sleep.” You aren’t sleeping very peacefully at all but.. honestly without the medication you might not be sleeping at all.

You sound exhausted, and he feels so bad. “I’m glad they’re helping you at least,” he says, “I’m, uh..” He starts to speak again before he hesitates, taking a breath, “Are you.. free tomorrow?”

Flushing a bit at his question, you lean against the kitchen counter, looking at the pattern of the granite, “Tomorrow? Um- yeah, yeah I wasn’t.. planning on doing much. Why?”

He perks up a little at the admission, a little flicker of hope in him. “Would you like to, uh..” He hesitates, tone becoming softer, “Would you like to have dinner?”

Your heart skips a beat. It feels funny hearing Rob like this, usually so stern and forward, being so.. bashful now. You swallow and nod even though he can’t see you, “I’d.. yeah I’d like that..”

“I can pick you up around seven.” He suggests softly, his heart still beating wildly in his chest.

“Okay..” You smile a little yourself, “Um.. I can text you the hotel I’m at..”

“I’d appreciate that.” He’s smiling himself, sat in his living room grinning like an idiot, “I’ll.. see you tomorrow then.”

“Yeah- see you tomorrow.” Swallowing down your nerves, “Bye.”

—

Tomorrow night rolls around soon enough. You make sure you’re down in the lobby of your hotel, resting on your crutches as you watch the traffic out the front window. Just a few minutes before seven you see another car pull up, and he steps out dressed in a plain white shirt and some cargos, taking a look around the courtyard. He pulls out his phone, probably to call you.

Walking out of the front doors, he spots you, lowering his phone from his ear. You’re dressed in a fitted tank top, a little flowy skirt and a thin flannel overtop with some sandals. He thinks you look absolutely darling. “Hi.” You smile a little, nervous.

His eyes scan over you, a little smile growing on his lips. It’s refreshing to see you in normal daytime clothes after the expedition, especially since you look so cute to him. He approaches closer, reaching an arm out to hold onto your upper arm gently, “You look..”

Glancing down at your outfit, you flush a bit, partially due to the humidity, grimacing up at him, “I didn’t really.. bring any fancy clothes. It was the best I could do.” A little brown purse hangs from your shoulder, dainty necklace on your collarbones and a ring on your finger, and if he stares hard enough there might be a hint of makeup on your eyes.

You look incredible to him, stunning. His eyes flit back up to yours as he shakes his head, “You look pretty.”

The compliment makes you flush deeper, smiling a little as a breeze blows by.

You end up getting helped into his car, figuring it’d be easier to just pick up some take out and take it back to his apartment rather than try to deal with a crowded restaurant. Settling on a Thai place near his apartment, he takes care of going in to order and pick up the food, fussing over not wanting you to be walking as much on your knee. He aids your walking with a hand on your back, heading into the nice apartment building he lives in which has you staring in awe. The elevator ride is quiet, but not in an uncomfortable tense way, just.. content.

You admire the inside of his apartment, walls painted olive and white, dark flooring turned to carpet for the other rooms, a balcony that lets sunshine cover the living room. A small hallway to the right gives way for the bathroom and laundry system, kitchen to the left, and a door that must be his bedroom past the hallway. You can hear the traffic below in the busy street, balcony door open to let in the breeze and warm air.

Photos and different art pieces line the walls, a larger piece above the TV, a bookshelf beside the door to his room. Very.. homey. It isn’t what you would have expected for Rob, not that you’ve imagined it or anything. Anyway, you clear your throat and stand aside, watching him at the kitchen counter taking out the food containers.

You both spend some time on his couch eating, making small talk, turning on a movie to watch afterwards. Injured leg propped up on the couch, you’re leant against him slightly, not meaning to, but your eyes are starting to slip shut, head tilting towards him. He says nothing though, arm stretched out along the back of the couch, stealing glances at you here and there.

He can see you’re tired, exhausted even, and doesn’t mind letting you wander off to dreamland for a little bit. His eyes scan over some of your injuries, the bruises and scrapes making his heart ache even though he looks the same. You can barely keep your eyes open, trying to pay attention to the movie that plays. But you’re losing the fight, so he slips his arm around you, tucking you into him

Should he get some ice for your bruises? Your knee? Should he let you lay down in his bed? He has no clue what to do, opting for letting you rest on him as he doesn’t move a single muscle, continuing to watch the movie as it plays.

Maybe ten minutes later, he sneaks another glance, using a couple fingers to pull hair from your face, when he notices you seem.. uncomfortable? Brows furrowed, tucking into him a little as you shift. Concern grows as he watches, petting over your head lightly, “Y/N..?”

Only a moment later, you jolt awake. You jerk as if something scared you, a quiet inhale sounding from you as you bring your good hand up to rub over your face, moving to sit up a little as you look up at him, “Shit- did I fall asleep? I’m sorry.”

Rob smiles softly, trying to put you at ease, “Don’t worry, I don’t mind,” he shifts, sitting up a little more, arm resting around you, “do you want some ice for your knee?”

“It’s okay, it’s just sore. As long as I don’t put weight on it, it isn’t bad.” You decline the offer, but feel a bit sheepish nonetheless. Your heart is racing, you haven’t slept well since getting back.

He can’t help but notice the way you’re breathing, slightly heavier than before. He reaches out with a hand to your forehead, “Are you okay? You don’t have a fever or anything, do you?”

The sudden question makes you huff a laugh, shaking your head, “I’m fine.” You seem to brush off the concern, shifting to sit up some more so you aren’t slouched on the comfy couch.

Rob frowns though, moving his hand away, “Are you sure? You look exhausted..” He feels a small pang of worry in his chest. He wants so badly to help, to do something for you but he doesn’t know what.

“Well don’t you know how to compliment a girl.” Joking softly to ease the tension, your eyes turn back to the TV where a scene flashes over the room. Yet again, you don’t directly address his concern.

He manages a laugh as well, trying to calm himself down. He notices how you avoid actually answering his question properly, and moves his hand from around you to reach and brush your hair back, “I’m just worried about you,” he says softly, “you look so tired.”

You bring your good hand up to rub under your eye, sighing with a laugh, “Ugh I get it.. My concealer didn’t do a very good job covering up my eye bags.” You don’t want to face the reality that you’re not fine, trying to sweep the worry under the rug.

“That’s not what I’m talking about and I think you know that,” his tone goes softer, more serious, “you haven’t been sleeping well have you?”

“I’m.. I’m alright.”

“I don’t believe you for a second.”

“‘m not a very good liar am I?” You muse softly, glancing up at him.

“No, not at all.” It’s more lighthearted now as he chuckles, brushing your hair back again. He doesn’t want to berate you for lying, his finger lightly grazing over your cheek, “Just be honest with me.. please.”

Your face flushes a bit at his touch, swallowing. You don’t want to admit it, but you’ve been caught and have to now. There’s no use in lying. “I-.. I just haven’t been sleeping well. I guess like- I can’t relax..” Sometimes all you can hear is the growling of that dinosaur, even in the comforts of your hotel room.

“You’ve been through a lot..” He soothes softly, gazing at you with empathy in his eyes, “I can’t expect you to just snap back like nothing happened.”

“I guess..” You mumble, agreeing softly. It isn’t even all over yet, not for the others anyway, as you have to wait to hear word from the search team, if anyone else will be found alive.. and it’ll take a long time to heal from this. At least for you, you aren’t even sure how Rob is handling this.

He’s frowning softly, hand twisting to cradle your cheek, “D’you wanna talk about it?”

“I-.. it’s fine. I guess I just need to get some more sleep or something..” He was there too, so you don’t want to seem dramatic about it all.

“Y/N.. it’s not fine.” He sighs softly, “You’ve been through a lot.”

“Well-.. It’s not easy to admit you’re terrified a dinosaur’s gonna pop up when you’re in a hotel room, is it? It sounds silly.” You admit, looking down at your lap, “I haven’t-.. anytime I try to sleep I hear it.. like it’s still looking for us..”

His heart aches as you confess this, nodding a little. It makes perfect sense, and he understands that. “I’m sure you can hear it, just like I do.” His hand moves from your face, curling around yours, leaning into your space a little, “You’re not overreacting.”

His own admission makes you look up at him now, a bit sheepish. You know it’s reasonable but.. “I can’t even sleep without the TV on because it’s just.. so quiet. Even then I’m tossing and turning..”

He sighs and nods his head, taking it all in. Rob’s aware of how you feel, understands the trauma completely, and hates that you feel like this and he can’t help. Or maybe he can. “What about being with me.. would that make you feel safer? Not alone?”

You falter a little, staring up at him. “I- you’ve just had almost a week in the jungle.. I doubt you want to be around anyone else right now..” You try to use that as an excuse, even though he literally invited you over for dinner.

His heart squeezes again, hearing how you try to deny him. He is tired.. but that’s not a good enough reason for him to not want to be around you. He smiles softly and gives your hand a squeeze, pulling it up to his lips so he can give your knuckles a kiss. “I want to be around you,” he whispers, “I don’t care how tired I am, I’d rather spend time with you.”

Your eyes stare at him, a bit confused but affectionate, cheeks flushing a bit as he kisses your hand. Pressing your lips together, you aren’t sure what to say to that. He smiles back, just adoring the way you look currently. He takes a breath and speaks again, “How about this.. you can spend the night here with me. You can take my bed.”

You shake your head quickly, “I couldn’t kick you outta your own bed.. no.”

“Alright, then we both share the bed.” The solution comes naturally, no fuss about it. “We don’t have to be close if you don’t want to, but.. the fact that you’d be there would help a lot.”

That catches your attention, “It’d.. it’d help you?” Yes, all he needs to do to convince you is say it’d help him as well, make him feel better, and you’ll agree.

Rob nods again, gaze soft. He seems to be able to know this would help him, that having you around in his personal space would make him feel more at ease. Glancing off to the side to consider it, lips pressed together, you nod, looking back at him, “Fine..” You agree softly, “I’ll stay.”

—

So, you two finish the movie, and around nine you both head into his room to get ready for bed. He changes in the bathroom, crawling into bed as he watches you remove your jewelry and flannel. It feels intimate, sharing a space together. His bedroom window is open, letting in a cool breeze and the nighttime traffic sound below.

Climbing into his bed under the covers in just your tank top and skirt, you lay on his bed, trying to get comfortable. There’s a space between you both, but his head is facing you, admiring your features. The dimmed light of a little colored lamp on his bookshelf manages to reach the bed, casting a dull color changing glow over the room. Some light comes from the window, other buildings nearby still awake. But you stare up at the ceiling, feeling.. tense. Not uncomfortable.. but just.. you’re in Rob’s bed.. with him.

He averts his gaze to the ceiling as well, unable to sleep just yet. The thought that’s going through his mind repeatedly is just that.. you’re in his bed with him. He’s feeling so many things in this moment; happiness that you stayed, but also nerves about being so close to you. He shifts slightly, trying to distract himself.

Here you’re both.. safe. Not running for your lives, hiding away in a cave.. just two people who most definitely have some sort of feelings for each other helping to try and ease the trauma you both have.

Eventually though, you succumb to the tiredness, drifting off to sleep.

———————♡

#extinction rob #rob extinction #extinction rob x reader #rob mini series

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arcanemoxhi · 2 years ago

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Don't Tell Vi... Please.. heh...

Vi x Firelight!FemReader

//Short Story//

Warning ⚠️‼️: blood, stitches, needles, mentions of punishments, mentiond of overstim, cuddles, kisses, a lil bit of arguing

"Here you are. Alright, I'm gonna contact Vi--"

"no please! Don't tell her, I don't want her to worry, she's already working hard right now! Please, Ekko, don't say anything! I can handle it." You pleaded Ekko not to spill anything as you lean against the door frame, with an open wound on your thigh. You hear Ekko sigh in annoyance. "Fine, fine, I'll let you deal with your own business, but it's going to be worse." Ekko shakes his head as he turns away, walking down the steps of you apartment. "Thank you." You slipped into your shared apartment and closed the door locking it. You quietly limped over to the bathroom. You quickly sit on the toilet cover as you gather the first aid kit. You scatter the box to find bandages, stitching needles, and disaffecting alcohol. You look at your nasty wound as you quickly gather your cotton cloth and used disaffecting alcohol to clean your bad wound. You drench the cloth in the alcohol and pat it against your thigh. You begin to tear up as the alcohol hits your wound, "Fuck me." You sigh sharply as you look at the stitching needle. You think if it's really necessary to stitch it up, but you start to be honest and just hate needles. You quickly put it away and continue to disinfect it. After, you start to peel back a bandage. As you hiss at the pain, you realize you didn't scan the apartment. You stop everything and begin to listen into the apartment. You realize you hear footsteps hurrying to the bathroom. You jump up in a hurry to close the door, yet you're too late. Your red haired girlfriend is deadpan at you, as her hand is the one that stopped the door from closing.

"Vi-Vi! H-Hi, baby! W-What are you doing he-here?? J-Just popping up at t-times and plac-places." You scatter for words as you try to hide your giant gash. She smirks at your cute rambling. "What's the matter, sweet stuff?" As she notices the medical supplies around you.

"i-I, uh.. I have a small, very small, scratch, A-And I was just cleaning it up. Nothing a bandage won't fix." You smile nervously as you lean your wounded leg out of view. "oh really? May I see this tiny wound?" Vi raises her eyebrows with her sly smirk still on display. "U-Uhm no need." You reach over to push Vi out the door. You fail when Vi sweeps both her hands under your armpits and places you up on the white bathroom counter. "Hey!" You feel Vi sorta man handle your thighs as you hiss from the pain. Your bloody gash is bleeding less than it was when you ran inside, but it's still opened. You hear Vi sigh as she stands up and grips the bridge of her nose. "Vi, listen. Before you get mad, just know, I was about to handle it and this was an accident on my behalf." You tried to make the situation better. "By not stitching it and masking your pain with a bandage, that you know won't cover it or heal with?! Babe, what the hell?! Why did I have to find out from Ekko??" Vi raises her voice, getting a little heated. You sigh, "I didn't want you to know... Because I wanted to go on the big mission at the end of this week. And than this happened... I was hoping to cover it before you got back..." Your eyes tilt down at your hands clasped in your lap. You hear Vi sigh again before she cups your cheeks and kisses you. This shocks you, but you take in the kiss. Vi moves away from your soft lips to look into your soft eyes. Her thumb grazes your cheek. "You still should have told me instead of me sneaking in through the window to catch you in time." You smile nervously as she grabs the needle and cleans it. She sits on the toilet cover to get a perfect view of your wound. You groan and whine at the thought of stitches. "I just didn't want to be taken away from the mission..." You grip the counter nervously as you speak so softly. You know not telling Vi was wrong and you tell her your fully admit it as well.

"babe, I wasn't going to take you off the mission. I needed you. And by this, you would still be able to operate with it," Vi begins to drive the needle through and out the gash. "Fuck me!" You hit the counter, bruising your palm. You can't move as much, but that's what made it worse. "I would, if you told me the truth." Vi smirks at you as she continues and eventually finishes. You pant as Vi puts the needle down and cleans around the wound. "At least powder didn't stitch your wound." Vi kisses your thighs and goes to the sink to wash her hands. You roll your eyes as you are reminded that she stitched herself with a staple gun. "You need to tell me, baby. Don't hide from me anymore, okay? I need to know your okay. I love you so much." She dries her hands and cups your face again. She gives you a loving quick kiss on the lips, resulting in a innocent smile from you. "but you did hide this from me, soo... You're going to get an punishment, sweet stuff," she watches your innocent smile fade into a shocked blush expression. "W-What?"

"oh, you didn't think you were getting out of this with no punishment, right? Oh my little muffin, I'm going to overstim you until the only words you can muster is my name. I'm going to to edge you until you hate my guts," Vi is smiling mischievously as she runs her hands on your waist and inner thigh. You try to muster words for plea or beg for forgiveness, but Vi covers your lips with her finger. "No, no, baby. You need to own up to your mistakes. But all in due time, now it's time for some cuddles and kisses." Vi scoops you up and takes you to your shared bedroom. She undresses you until you're fully comfy and she does the same as you lay on your good thigh. Vi crawls into bed placing kisses from your hand to your shoulder to your soft lips. You giggle and Vi lays down by you, so you can curl up into her strong arms. "I love you, baby. I love you so much, baby." Vi kisses your head softly. "I actually don't know what I would do without you... Other than Powder," she smiles a little and rubs your tense shoulders. "Well, I'm glad I met you, Vi. I love you so much... Maybe even more." You look up at the red head as you give her a soft kiss. After a few soft kisses, you two enjoy the silence of your apartments and the sounds of kids outside playing in the alleyways.

"ohhh, I can't wait to see your legs shake violently." Vi hums, breaking the silence.

"V-Vi!!"

A/N: sorry for the wait, but I got a lot of things brewing >:] hehehehehe okay bye bye muah muah love you 💕

#arcane vi #vi x reader #arcane #vi x you #vi x y/n #vi fluff

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crappymixtape · 2 years ago

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i'll hold you together

Steve goes out to the bar without you because what if Tommy’s there? And he wouldn’t let Robin and Eddie go alone, but when they get home something’s clearly wrong | ( 2k, angst, trauma, mentions of blood, fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

I ‘ L L H O L D Y O U T O G E T H E R 🎶 this version of you, ODESZA & julianna barwick

It was dark, the kind of dark where even the stars and moon feel dim in the sky, and you clicked on the light over the stove to grab a glass of water. Did you regret not going with Steve to the bar? Maybe. But Tommy was going to be there and you knew he’d say some shit, make some remark to you, and you didn’t feel like dealing with it so you’d stayed behind. Robin and Eddie promised they’d get him home safe, nothing to worry about, but as you placed your glass in the sink you saw lights pull into the Harrington’s driveway next door.

It was too early to be home. Too early.

Eddie got out first and he looked shaken, movements hurried, Robin following quickly after and shouting something at him. What happened? And then Eddie grabbed Robin by the shoulders and pointed right at your window. Your heart stopped in your chest. Steve.

Robin was at your door within seconds, but you didn’t give her time to knock as you swung it open, your pulse fluttering in your neck as you tried to stay calm. “What, Robin? What is it?”

She grabbed your hand and tried a smile, but it cracked. “He just can’t keep his mouth shut, you know? Especially when it comes to you, and Tommy was being such a dick, and even I wanted to kick his ass, but–”

“Robin! What. Happened?” you took her by the shoulders, just like Eddie had, and she squeezed her eyes shut trying to hard to focus for you.

“Steve’s hurt. Pretty bad.”

By the time you threw your gaze over Robin’s shoulder Eddie had gotten Steve out of the car and was holding him tight around the waist, walking him up the drive, and oh my god. Your poor boy. It was Billy Hargrove all over again and you felt your chest squeezing like it was being crushed in a vice.

“Sweetheart, look at me. He needs you. You can do it. Where’s the bathroom?” Eddie had made it to the front stoop, voice even and low, working hard to ground you so that the panic in your throat didn’t swallow you whole. You’d done this so many times before, but it never got any easier.

“What? Uh, it-it’s down the hallway,” your voice felt far away, like it didn’t belong to you, and you kept your eyes on Eddie knowing if you looked at Steve you were going to fall apart.

All four of you hurried down the hall, but then you heard him groan as Eddie pulled him along and you swore you felt your heart physically crack in half. You froze at the bathroom, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“Hey. It’s okay, you can do this,” Robin’s hand took yours and squeezed as she flicked the light on, the soft pink of the bathroom tile mocking you with how pleasant it looked in the warm glow against everything that was happening. Gently guiding you in first she moved you both aside to make room for the boys and you screwed your eyes shut. God, you didn’t want to look.

“You have a first aid kid right?”

Slowly you opened your eyes to see Eddie looking up at you expectantly from the floor, still holding Steve around the waist, and you couldn’t help it. You looked at him.

At Steve.

Your Steve.

Sitting on the edge of the tub.

Bright red on the tile.

More red coming from his nose and mouth.

Metallic and red and more red.

“Babe, first aid kit? Where is it?” Robin’s voice shook you.

“Uh, cabinet in the hallway, top shelf,” fell out of your mouth, how were you functioning?

But then Eddie lifted a hand, fingers softly tilting your chin down to look into his eyes and he gave you one of his big, warm smiles, “Its okay. He’s okay. We can do this. Right, sweetheart? There’s been so much worse. I promise, he’s a big boy. Its okay.”

Your hands were shaking, but you felt yourself steel against it and when Robin came back with the first aid kit you knelt down between Steve’s legs.

“Hey,” his voice was soft and scratchy like he’d been yelling and, sweet boy, he tried to smile for you, but it just felt like some big horrible joke. Lip busted open, nose bleeding and you hoped to god not broken, left eye swollen, all deep purples and reds like plums in the summer.

You lifted a hand softly to his cheek and tried to smile back, but there were tears welling up against your lashes. “Hi,” your voice cracked and you took in a sharp breath. Keep it together. You can do this.

“Here, honey,” Robin knelt down next to you, holding out the first aid kit encouragingly as Eddie kept his hold on Steve, “Peroxide, right?”

Sniffing you hastily wiped your arm across your face and nodded, “Yeah. Yes. Peroxide first.” You’d done this so many times before, your muscle memory knew the motions.

After Jonathan.

After Billy.

After Starcourt.

After the demobats.

You gave Robin a small smile, a silent thank you, and took the first of many cotton balls from her. Turning back to Steve you cupped his face again and bit your lip in, throat still tight, “This isn’t going to feel good.”

“S’okay, I’m okay,” and then his hand was on yours, warm and steady and reassuring, and you slowly pressed the cotton ball against his lip.

“Christ,” he hissed, good eye squeezing shut as a small tear trickled down his cheek. His hand squeezed against yours and you held on tight. Sorry, you murmured through your own tears that had started to fall, but you kept going. He needed you to keep going.

You were as soft as you could be, slowly, patiently cleaning him up through the swears that hissed through gritted teeth. Cleaned up the blood from his beautiful split lip, the ones he kissed you with all warm like the sun. The blood from his nose, the one he brushed against yours while you folded into each other on the couch. The blood from his forehead, the one that pressed into yours when you found each other wanting in the dark. And when you were done you breathed a sigh of relief – you could see Steve again.

Eddie helped him up from the edge of the tub and down the hallway to your room while Robin hung back, waiting for you wash up. You watched as the water turned crimson, swirling around in the sink basin before trickling down the drain, carrying with it any proof of the trauma you all had endured. A reminder of all the times before.

“Hey,” Robin softly rubbed your back, “You did great.” And as you dried your hands you wanted to say thank you, wanted to be content with it, but anger gnawed at the pit of your stomach.

“What’d he do,” you asked then, turning to Robin and she let her hand fall from your back. She knew who you meant.

Worrying her lip between her teeth she fumbled over her words, not wanting to tell you, but the look you gave her then pushed her. Pleaded her to tell you and she cracked.

“Of course it was Tommy. It’s always Tommy. And he was running his mouth again to some shitheads he brought to the bar. Telling them about how you were down bad for Steve and how you were a shitty girlfriend and that he was sure if he got your drunk enough he could…” the words died in her throat as she looked up at you, willing you to fill in the gaps, and you did. It wasn’t hard.

Tommy hated Steve as soon as he said he wanted to fix things with Jonathan. As soon as he defended Nancy against his and Carol’s bullying. As soon as he scrubbed the graffiti off the theatre marquee.

As soon as he noticed the way Steve looked at you.

You dropped your gaze to floor and felt your hands ball into fists at your sides and you didn’t realize you were shaking until Robin took your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. “He’s such an asshole and Steve didn’t want to hear it and Eddie was right there to help out and he won, for once he did! And–”

“Its okay, Robin. Thanks,” you cut her off and pulled away, not mad at her, but at everything else and all you wanted was Steve.

“Yeah,” she said softly as you turned to leave, taking the steps down the hallway to your room.

Eddie was just leaving, closing your door behind him, but you caught his hand and kept it open. He gave you a small smile and pushed your hair, wild and haphazard, out of your face. “Told you, you could do it,” he said gently, giving your shoulder a squeeze with his big, warm, silver adorned hand.

It was then you were finally able to take Eddie in properly and noticed a cut on his eyebrow, his knuckles split and ruddy looking. “Eddie…” you said, taking his hand, but he pulled away and shook his head.

“Nah, love. Shh, I’m alright. Robin’ll take care of me, Stevie needs you,” he opened the door just a crack and gave you a soft push, “We’ll just be out in the living room.” Your eyes prickled again with tears and you couldn’t help pulling him into a hug, all cheap weed and pachouli and leather. Your best friend. Your best friends.

“Thank you,” you whispered to him, “Robin too.” But he knew and he gave you a smile before walking back down the hallway, your hand trembling as you pushed the door to your room open.

Soft, warm light from the lamp at your bedside washed everything in gold and for a moment things felt normal. You expected to see Steve sitting up on your bed, waiting for you, hands outstretched and ready to pull you in against him, but instead you found him lying down. Eyes closed. Chest rising and falling with steady breaths. Tired and broken. And you almost couldn’t do it, but one foot moved and then the other across the room like that until you were at his side.

“Mmm, hi,” he murmured when he felt you sit on the edge of the bed. His good eye opened to look at you and the corner of his mouth tugged up into a little smile.

“Hi, baby,” and you couldn’t help smiling back when you saw him in the light. His lip looked so much better and his nose had stopped bleeding, but the bruising had bloomed across his cheek in mottled yellows, lilacs, and deep plumy purples. Your brows knitted together as you brought a hand to his good cheek and you sighed, “Why’d you do it? He’s not worth it.”

He grinned, but immediately grimaced as his skin pulled and huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, he’s not. But you are.”

Your heart ached.

“I won,” he teased, Steve coming back to life under all the cuts and bruises, and you gave him a look.

“I heard,” you shot back, but it didn’t hold any heat as you slowly lowered yourself down at his side.

“What is that now, like 50/50?” he wondered aloud, voice still scratchy and low, his arm slipping under your neck and shoulders to pull you into him. He was so warm, like he held summer in his chest, and you took in the familiar scent of spearmint and cedar and boy.

“Not bad,” you joked, closing your eyes as his hand smoothed over your back.

“Not bad.”

It fell silent for a moment and you wanted to fall asleep with him, to just lie there with him in the warm dark of your room, but you couldn’t.

Eyes fluttering open you drew lazy circles against his chest as you tried to put words together and it was as if he could feel you thinking. “What’s wrong?” his voice startled you a bit and squeezed his arm around you with a small chuckle.

“Its just…I can’t keep you safe. Not even at stupid parties. Its bad enough with you almost getting eaten alive and here’s fucking Tommy Haga–”

Steve’s fingers pressed against your lips and you could feel him laughing against you. “Stop it,” he chided, moving his fingers to brush across your cheek, “You keep me plenty safe. I’m just returning the favor.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to look down at him, at all the blues and purples and yellows and puckered cuts and swollen eye. He was still pretty. “When I see Tommy again, I’m going to kick his ass.”

Steve fixed you with a weak, lopsided grin, shaking his head against your pillow, “I already feel bad for him.”

Pushing a bit of his hair out of his face you leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. And then another to his cheek. And another to the corner of his lips that weren’t hurting. “I love you,” you murmured.

Steve closed his eyes and pulled you down against his chest again, the thud thud thud of his heart grounding you, “I love you too.”

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve harrington angst

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luxaofhesperides · 2 years ago

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hey what’s up hope u don’t mind but this inspired me to write a fic. blowing u a kiss for all ur great ideas.

(adding the beginning of the fic below the cut to save u from so much scrolling)

Despite what others may say, Danny swears he didn’t mean to make this a habit. It was just that he was the only one there, or the only one who could do something, and he’s not the kind of person to just walk away when he could help.

There’s a lot of excuses he could make, really, but it all boils down to this: Danny is on an enforced vacation from heroing but even that can’t stop him from getting involved. It’s just not in his nature to stand aside and let others take care of everything.

Jazz would say it’s the result of the adults in his life failing him repeatedly that pushes him to try to take responsibility for everything. Danny believes that being a good person isn’t something that can just be turned off.

So he’s not saving people. He’s not jumping into fights and going ghost to stop criminals. He’s just offering a helping hand to the heroes that likely never get help from the people they’re protecting.

And since he’s technically not acting as a hero—no pointing in risking his identity as Phantom in this dimension, even though he’s confirmed that there’s no version of the GIW here—no one back at home can yell at him for not abiding by the terms they set out before kicking him into a portal leading to another dimension. Clockwork probably helped them find the right one; a world with so many heroes it doesn’t need his help at all.

Still, he offers it.

It’s just basic courtesy, really. Danny is a visitor in their dimension, so he might as well be a good guest.

“You good?” he asks Red Hood, who took a solid few hits to the head during the fight. He holds out the gun that was knocked out of his hand, and Red Hood stares down at it, unmoving, for a solid minute before he takes it back .

“Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing, kid? You shouldn’t be getting this close to fights.”

Danny shrugs. “I was hiding and out of the way until you knocked the last one out. I wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“Still—”

“Anyways!” Danny cuts him off, “You need any first aid? I got a kit in my backpack that has some pain relievers.”

Red Hood stares at him. Even though his face is hidden behind the cracked helmet, the weight of his undivided attention is heavy. “You’re the kid who dropped a bag of batarangs on Batman’s head, aren’t you?”

“Huh? Why do you know about that?”

“You are!” Red Hood laughs, “Holy shit! Kid, hearing about that made my week. How’d you get the drop on the old Bat anyways?”

“What, like it’s hard? I just waited for him to stop beating up a mugger, then I dropped it on him. Easy, really.”

“He’s been going crazy trying to figure out how he missed you. I haven’t seen him that off guard in years.” Red Hood pats Danny’s shoulder. “Nice one, kid. How about I treat you to a burger or something for that?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Danny says, slipping out of Red Hood’s grip. He takes a step back, then smiles brightly and waves. “See you around, Mr. Hood!”

“Wait—”

Danny doesn’t wait. He turns on his heel and speedwalks away, turning the corner and going invisible just before Red Hood catches up to him.

“The hell? Where’d he go?” he hears Red Hood say, but he’s already running down the street before he can hear anything else.

As much as he enjoys helping heroes, hanging out with them, especially ones trained by Batman, the detective hero, is just inviting trouble. Danny has enough of that just from existing. He doesn’t need any bats sniffing around for his secrets, especially considering the fact that he doesn’t exist in this dimension.

No one said he needed to keep it a secret, but it sure feels like a secret. So he runs and thinks that maybe, just maybe, taking a break from Gotham would be good.

(“How did you lose him?” Tim asks, and Jason throws his hands in the air, frustrated.

“I don’t know! He was just gone!”

“God, B’s gonna lose him mind looking for this kid.”

Dick steals Tim’s mug, takes a sip, then makes a face at how bitter the coffee is. “Doesn’t he pop up out of nowhere to help us? Maybe we don’t need to find him. Maybe we can make him come to us.”

“You might be onto something, Goldie,” Jason says. A glance at Tim shows that he’s already thinking up plans, ways to lightly endanger himself to get the attention of their local, mysterious helper.

In fact, Jason already has a few ideas of his own, mainly pushing all his brothers off of buildings and hoping their helper takes notice. At least this investigation will be fun for him.)

. . .

(read the rest of danny fenton, hero helper extraordinaire on ao3 bc it’s 6k+ and i am not formatting all that for tumblr lol)

Danny phantom gets punted into the DC dimension and goes absolutely mother hen on EVERYONE.

This guy is so worried about them he gangs up with batmans kids to get him to consider therapy, buys Billy Batson snacks and new clothes, gives the Flashes really super high metabolism granola bars that he made himself, brings back the queen family's arrows from where they got left around the city, stuff like that.

He eventually kinda becomes the DC's guardian angel of superheros as they start to realize he's visited and helped all of them (they dont really know how to feel about the fact that he seems to know most of their identities but they can't really do anything about that)

Best part is? He's doing it as fenton. No one knows he's a ghost, they just think he's Some Dude.

#dc x dp #fic #my writing #idk how it became over 6k i was trying real hard not to make it long #bc it could be longer. i could Expand on this and make it a monster of a fic #sorry im not normal and that makes me write too much lol

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ghostbeam · 2 years ago

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biting down | Dabi/Touya Todoroki

He’s fast as he weaves through the trees, breath hot against your neck as he runs as if he has any need for breathing at all. You feel your shoulders drop in relief, tucking your head into the crook of his neck, the texture of his skin a comfort to you as you think about what could have happened if he hadn’t found you.

Dabi is a vampire, a real, live (debatable), blood-sucking, sunlight-repulsed, creature of the night.

You think you might be in love with him.

Notes: hiiii so this is my vamp Dabi fic I’ve finally finished!! Enjoy this mess of blood and gore and cheesy corny vampire romance. A big thanks to bun and mari for talking me through this entire thing and giving me the idea for a vamp fic in the first place!! Thanks for reading!! (Title is from biting down by lorde) the playlist for the fic is here if u wanna listen!

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, f!reader, explicit content, some angst, violence, vampires, Dabi picks reader up, detailed descriptions of blood and gore (lots and lots of blood), blood kink, self inflicted harm (reader cuts her palm open), Dabi is a little mean sometimes, biting (he bites ur neck, thighs, chest he drinks ur blood he’s a vampire), pain play (biting to puncture skin, biting and drinking from already open wounds), drinking each other’s blood, fingering, (bloody) oral f!receiving, bloody sex, unprotected sex, marking, bruising, corny vamp dialogue, if u don’t like blood PLEASE do not read this

Words: 5.3k

Blood drips from your palm as you hold it high in the air. The liquid pools in the open wound, streaks of red falling down your arm.

“Alright!” You call out to the darkness, “I don’t know how else to find you! I don’t even know if this will work, but I have to try!”

You know it’s foolish, especially now that you know that they exist. Years of research, years of books and films and legends and rumors, everything you’d spent your life chasing was real and just out of reach. You don’t know how to let it go. You don’t know how to let him go.

You can’t see much of it in the darkness, but you can feel the blood as it slides down, wet and warm. It dries tacky in the wind and you wonder what it might taste like, if it’s as sweet as it seems to be, as sweet as he makes it sound. Before you can think about touching your tongue to the red, you’re scooped up into arms that aren’t unfamiliar to you.

Dabi is a vampire, a real, live (debatable), blood-sucking, sunlight-repulsed, creature of the night.

You think you might be in love with him.

The two of you are at your place within no time. He drops you from his arms, your feet hitting the ground as he walks through your front door. He doesn’t speak as he makes his way to your bathroom, and you follow him close behind, blood dripping from your wound onto the floor. He picks you up and places you on the counter, and you can see your blood on his neck and the collar of his shirt from where you held onto him.

He flips open the lid of the first aid kit beside you and fixes you with a harsh glare.

“Are you mad?” You question, even though you know the answer.

“Are you an idiot?” He spits as he runs your hand under warm water, “I’m seriously asking. Why would you do this?”

“I didn’t know how else to find you!” You argue, throwing your free hand into the air.

“Maybe I didn’t want to be found.” He replies, cleaning your palm with alcohol.

“Then don’t tell a vampire-obsessed freak that vampires exist.” he presses into your palm with the cloth and you flinch. You pull your hand from his grasp and stare at the blood that remains on your fingers and wrist. Looking up at him, you hold it out to him, “Want some?”

“Very funny.” He says impassively, but you can see how he clenches his jaw at the thought of tasting you. He moves your hand away before wrapping it tightly in gauze. You sit and watch him as he places your supplies back into the first aid kit, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, though you figure that’s more about your blood than anything. He places it back underneath the sink and stands up, but not before taking your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, and your breath hitches in your throat as he slides his tongue over the drying blood there. He sucks two of your fingers into his mouth, lapping up all that he can while holding your stare. He pulls them from his lips with a wet pop, swallowing harshly. The two of you are silent for a moment, your hand still clutched in his as you hold your breath. You’re sure he can hear your heart beat rapidly in your chest, but you’re unsure of how to calm down, not when he’s so close, not when he’s looking at you like this. You think he might do something, bite you, kiss you, maybe both, but he drops your hand to your lap and pulls away.

“Clean up.” He tells you, leaving you behind in the bathroom as you stare down at your shaking hand.

You find him in your bedroom, pulling your comforter halfway down your bed. He looks up at where you stand in the doorway, arms crossed over your stomach as you meet his gaze. He raises an eyebrow at you and nods his head towards your bed, a silent demand for you to get in.

You take a step forward, standing by the side of your bed and beginning to move before pausing your actions. You look up at him through your lashes and ask, “will you stay?”

“Get in.” He doesn’t hesitate to command, and you let out a long sigh before sliding into your bed. He pulls the covers up to your chin and begins to turn away, but you take his wrist in your hand before he can leave.

“Dabi.” You plead. He pauses with his back turned to you. His wrist is cold between your fingers and you can’t see the expression on his face. You watch his shoulders tense and then relax as he pulls himself from your grip. Defeated, you fall back into your bed with a sigh, but he doesn’t move.

“Okay.” He finally speaks. He turns to you, climbing into bed next to you. He lies over your comforter and motions for you to give him room. You relax into your bed, a soft smile on your face as you look up at him. He rolls his eyes and speaks again, “Okay, only to make sure you don’t run off again, you little maniac.”

He flicks your forehead and turns off the lamp beside your bed. You turn to lay on your side, and Dabi watches as you fall asleep. He doesn’t touch you, no matter how much he wants to, his fingers twitching with want. You’re warm beside him and he watches the way your body moves with each breath you take, all too aware of how alive you are and how dead he is.

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed and a Dabi’s number scrawled in red glitter gel pen on a note that reads: Text me next time. No need for a blood sacrifice.

…

Dabi knows he shouldn’t get involved with you. He knows that humans and vampires are a deadly mixture, whatever is between you cannot end well no matter how he tries to look at it, no matter how much he’s tried to justify it in his mind.

You’re doomed.

He knows this. He knows that he’s a monster, that he’s been one for years, that he will always be one. He knows that you are flesh and bone with a beating heart, that you have an entire life ahead of you, that you’d be better off without him. He’s certain of it.

And Dabi knows that he should not be picking you up from one of your night classes in an effort to spend more time with you.

You spot him across the parking lot, his ivory hair standing out against the darkness. He leans against his car, sunglasses perched on his nose despite the lack of sun. He grins when he sees you, opening the door and helping you inside. His cold hand rests against your thigh for the entirety of the ride as you tell him about your classes. The mundane events of your human life are endlessly interesting to him, even with all his years of experience.

Dabi lives on a secluded property up at the peak of some mountain you can’t remember the name of. It’s a house far too large for one man to be living in. It’s a crowded place full of books that line shelves and spill out onto the hardwood floors, hanging plants and dead flowers, exposed brick littered with band posters from the ’70s, large panels of glass windows that look out into the expanse of trees below the mountain, the same forest that you live directly on the other side of.

His heavy boots creak against the worn floors, moving to flip the switch and pull the chords of lamps from various thrift stores and antique shops, filling the place with a dull light to make up for the lack of working bulbs in any of the overhead lighting.

The kitchen, however, is the one place with a working light, one you forced Dabi to let you put in yourself as he held the ladder for you and snuck peaks up your skirt. You can hear Dabi sorting through records in the next room as you start on making a cup of coffee for yourself, opening the fridge to grab the coffee beans that sit next to the blood bags, the only other thing that occupies the fridge.

This has become routine for the two of you. Dabi feels guilty about ruining your sleep schedule, letting you drink cup after cup in order to stay up with him, but he’s too selfish to tell you anything.

You feel rough hands grip your hips from behind as you pour the hot liquid into a handmade ceramic mug you’ve decided is your favorite, and Dabi rests his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you. You relax into his hold, leaning your head against his chest.

There’s a vase at the edge of the counter, something also handmade and a little lumpy with painted pink roses around the bottom. You’ve never seen it before, which isn’t such a rare occurrence in the crowded home, but there’s something about it that intrigues you, curious enough to ask Dabi where it came from.

“That’s, uh, an old vase my sister made. I found it in the basement in some old box.” He speaks next to your ear. You pull yourself from his hold and he follows behind you like a magnet, one hand on your hip as you move to pick the vase up.

“It’s pretty.” You tell him, examining it in your hands, “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

He stiffens behind you as he always does when you find yourself asking too many questions about him. “Yeah, I have a couple of brothers too.”

“Really?” You question, turning around to look at him, thrilled at his sudden openness, “What are they like?”

His hand drops from your hip and moves to scratch the back of his neck. With his eyes no longer on you and darting from the ceiling to the vase to wherever else he can place them in order not to face you, you can tell he’s uncomfortable with the topic. It’s the way he always behaves when you peel a layer too far back.

“They’re, well–look–” He cuts himself off, finally finding your eyes again, “I can’t–”

“You don’t want to tell me.” You speak and he doesn’t say anything. “You shut down every time I try to learn anything about you, and it fucking hurts.”

“That’s not true–”

“It is!” You exclaim, “It is, and you know it. You know everything about me. I don’t know about you, about your past, your friends. Don’t you think it’s weird that this is the first time you’ve mentioned your siblings?”

Dabi watches you as you speak but doesn’t say a word. He can’t. You’re right about all of it. He can’t tell you about his past, about what he’s done. He can’t risk losing you. He can’t risk letting you in.

“I want you. All of you.” You tell him. You wait, for what, you aren’t sure. Some kind of reaction, something that tells you that the past couple of months spent with him haven’t all been so that he can let you walk away. “I just wish you would have told me you don’t feel the same instead of letting me fall for you.”

He wants to tell you that he does feel the same. He probably feels more than you do. Dabi wants nothing more than to close the growing gap between you, to sink his teeth into taught flesh and make you his forever.

But he can’t do that to you, and he never will.

That’s why he tries to let you go, tries to watch you walk out the door without worrying about how late it is, how dark it is outside, how he’s already had to save you before.

And Dabi cannot live the rest of eternity knowing that he let you get yourself bitten by someone who isn’t him, that you could belong to someone else, dead or alive.

So he runs, despite himself. He runs, realizing just how long he stood in his kitchen and contemplated your death, afraid he might be too late. You might already be lost.

He’s relieved when he spots your figure, illuminated by nothing but moonlight and shivering in the cold. He startles you when he reaches you, enough that you trip over your feet and into the street in surprise, much to Dabi’s dismay.

His grip is tight on your arm as he jerks you up, his face inches away from yours as he speaks, “What a fucking mess, falling over in the street. The hell do you think you’re doing? Huh?”

He’s trying to be quiet even though there’s most likely no one for miles, no one human anyway. Your eyes flicker between his hand on your arm and his angry gaze.

“Dabi, you’re scaring me.” Your voice is calm as you say it, like you're trying to calm an animal down, like if you’re too loud, he’ll rush forward and bite you like he’s always wanted. Like you’ve always wanted.

“I’m scaring you? You’re lucky it was me who snuck up on you and not some blood-thirsty monster.” He bristles. He knows you’re scared. He can hear your heart beating out of your chest, a reminder that he no longer has one that works.

“You are a blood-thirsty monster.” You spit. He doesn’t let it get to him because he knows why you said it. You know about all the nights he’s watched your chest rise and fall, why he presses his ear to your back when he holds you in bed, why his fingers brush over your neck and your wrists. He’s obsessed with your mortality. He envies you.

“Yeah, and look how well that turned out for you.” He retorts, finally letting go of your arm with a small nudge. He turns away from you, running a hand through his hair before fixing his stare on you once more, suddenly very serious. “You can’t just run off in the middle of the night.”

“Why the hell do you even care? You let me leave! You’re the one who watched me run off in the middle of the night!” His shoulders tense as he looks at you, everything he’s held in, all the things he wouldn’t allow himself to say to you, to do to you. It’s all been for nothing. He can’t let you slip away, no matter how much better off he knows you’d be without him. His hands come up to rest on your shoulders, fingers digging into your flesh, and his eyes never leave yours.

“Are you an idiot? Of course, I care. And I do want you! You remind me of everything I can’t have and everything that was taken from me, but you’re worth it.” His hands shake where they lie on your shoulders, speaking like it pains him to keep it in because it does. He can’t get the words out fast enough. “I’m in love with you, and it hurts. But it hurts more not to have you.”

You stare at him, unsure of if you believe him. You want to believe him, part of you does, but you don’t think you can stand loving a man you barely know. He can see it, the doubt in your eyes, how badly you want to turn away and run, but he’s desperate.

Dabi falls to his knees in front of you, earning a gasp from your lips that he ignores. He looks up with you, eyes pleading as he speaks, “I’ll beg. I will. I’ve never begged for anything before, and I’ve lived a lot, so you know I’m serious.”

Unsure how to react, you laugh nervously. If he’s not lying, if he really hasn’t begged for anything before, then you’ve brought a monster to his knees, and it makes you feel powerful. It makes you believe he loves you.

“I am. I love you. I want you. Please come home.” Because that’s what it is. Your home. With how much time you spend there, how much of his things have become yours, how much light up the place in more ways than one. It is your home. He begs for you with his hands attached to your thighs and his eyes wide with desperation. You set a hand on the top of his head and roll your eyes.

Pulling him up to stand, you let your arms fall around his neck, pulling him close enough so that your noses touch. He kisses you and it doesn’t taste like blood. It just tastes like you, you and the fruit you ate for breakfast, the cigarette you snuck before class. You taste like everything he wants and everything he’s not allowed to have. You taste like living.

You pull away from him and whisper, “I love you too, Dabi.”

He pecks your lips once more, “It’s Touya.”

“What?”

“My name.” He tells you. “My real name.”

“Touya.” You say, trying it out. He likes the way your lips move around the word. “I love you, Touya.”

…

Touya kisses you like you might slip away. His lips move against yours hungrily. His hands grip your hips, your thighs, touching you everywhere as if he’s unable to leave a part of you not felt or marked by him. He slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting you like this instead of the way he desperately wishes to.

Your hands move underneath his white tee shirt, your warm hands against the cold skin of his stomach. He shivers beneath you and you’re flat on your back in an instant, no longer resting on his couch in his lap, but against the floor, his hips pinning your own to the hardness beneath you. He moves from your lips to your neck, nipping and sucking, and returning to your lips to swallow your moans.

He groans when your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands the way you know drives him crazy. He groans into your neck, bucking his hips into yours. You gasp, throwing your head back against the floor, baring your neck to the man above you whose lips hover over your pulse point.

Blood pumps underneath your skin, loud in his ears, and your heart beats in your chest. The feeling, the thrum of the beat, the rush of blood. He can feel it like it’s his, like he lives inside of you.

He could rip your neck open in seconds and drink from you for days before you were drained. He could kill you. You could cease to exist and be nothing but another body he has to bury.

Or he could make you like him.

“You can.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you’re unsure if he even hears you, “If you want. You can bite me.”

You’ve imagined it a hundred times before, what it would be like. You’ve wondered how badly it would hurt, how much you could endure, if it would be worth it. You think it would be. For him, it would be.

He pauses above you.

You’re giving him permission. You’re telling him he’s allowed, that you want him to. There’s a look in your eyes that almost tells him you need him to.

A wave of disgust washes over him, furious with himself that he would ever consider turning you into this, into someone who can barely control themselves around the person they claim to love, the person they need to protect.

He’s off of you and across the room in record time, so fast you still have your neck exposed when you hear his voice from where he stands.

“Don’t.” It’s the last thing he says before leaving you alone in the house.

…

You don’t move from the couch, not once in the hours that you’re alone. Evening turns into night turns into morning. The faintest blue tint paints the room as morning creeps in. You realize, then, that Touya has to come home soon. The sun is rising.

The door creaks open like he’s trying to be quiet. He shuts it behind him slowly, afraid to wake you if you’ve fallen asleep, but when he turns around, you’re there on the couch.

Tired eyes find his across the room and guilt eats at him knowing you’ve been up since he left. He doesn’t say a word but moves to sit down on the couch beside you.

“I love you.” You speak after a moment, but you don’t look at him.

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do. And you love me too.”

“But I shouldn’t.”

“But you do.”

“I do. And that’s why I won’t bite you. I’ll never hurt you.” He can’t. No matter how badly he wants to keep you forever, he can’t turn you into what he is.

“You’re hurting me now.”

“Why don’t you get it?” He snaps, standing up from the couch. “This is a curse. I’m a fucking monster, and I’m going to be one forever. I won’t do that to you. I can’t. I won’t curse you, too.”

“It’s not a curse to love you.” He looks at you then, your gaze still locked straight in front of you like you’re afraid of his reaction. You look down at your lap, playing with your fingers before you finally find the courage to look up at him.

He thinks for a long moment. There are so many reasons he shouldn’t, the same reasons he tried and failed to stay away from you. But there’s one question, something that’s plagued him for all of his years as a vampire, something he’s too afraid to ask.

Can Touya really be loved forever?

He thinks the answer doesn’t matter. It’s enough to be loved by you.

He bites you.

It’s nothing like you’d imagined. It’s better. It’s heaven.

His teeth sink into your flesh and your blood fills his mouth, fangs sharp against your throat. He’s not fast enough as he drinks, trying to savor you. It spills out of the sides and down your neck. He’s never tasted anything like you before.

It stings but you moan, letting your head fall back to give him more room to drink. It takes everything in him to force his lips away from your neck. He could have drained you. Maybe he would have if he didn’t love you, but he does, so he pulls away. Half-lidded eyes look into his, a faint smile crossing your face as you bring your hand to his cheek. You swipe your thumb through the blood on his bottom lip and grin. You’ve stained his lips.

Touya wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer. He brings a hand to the back of your head and guides you to his neck. You place a kiss against his skin before you bite down, drawing blood in the same way he did. He lets out a strangled moan and grips your hair in his hand. The taste of copper fills your mouth and you force yourself to drink. This is all you’ve ever wanted.

He pulls you away from his neck and kisses you, the mixture of his blood and your blood a mess on your tongues. He pulls away and licks over the wound on your neck. It’s tender to the touch. You whimper as his tongue swipes over it again and again. You arch your back, holding back a moan as he sinks his teeth back into the open wound.

His hands are rough as he grips your hips, no doubt leaving bruises behind, as he pulls you over his lap, never detaching from your neck as he does. You run your hands up his stomach, reaching his neck and pressing your fingers into his wound. He groans into you, pushing your hips down to grind down against him.

He releases his teeth from your neck and captures your lips with his. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, tasting the blood that remains as he thumbs the bottom of your shirt. He pulls away only to pull it over your head. His lips find the wound on your neck once more.

“I’ve never tasted anything like you before.” He speaks against your neck, licking a long strip up your neck, “You’re addicting.”

You pull him away from your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair as you pull, earning a groan from the man below you. You grind your hips down as you suck on the wound on his neck, curious if he feels the same things you do. The blood is sweeter on your tongue than you remember running your tongue over the wound and down his neck to taste the blood that’s dried against his chest.

“C’mere.” He whispers, kissing you again. He flips you over gently, pushing you against the couch as he hovers over you, “C’mere, baby.”

He kisses from your neck to your shoulders, down the valley of your breasts and your stomach. He nips at your skin, leaving behind pricks of blood and pulling whimpers from your throat. It’s soft, even as he’s hurting you, even as he pierces your skin. He’s so gentle.

His fingers find the band of your pants, pulling them off with your underwear in one go. He moves his body in between your legs, bloodied hands running up the outside of your thighs as he lowers himself to your sex. He doesn’t look away from you as bites the inside of your thighs, sucking bruises into the flesh and licking the blood from where he punctures the skin.

You tangle your fingers in his hair and let out a shaky breath, “Please.”

“Fuck.” Touya curses at the sound of desperation in your voice. He draws soothing circles in your inner thighs, smearing the blood around, as he looks up at you, “That’s it, baby. Tell me what you want.”

“W-want–” You speak breathily, “want your tongue.”

“Yeah? Want me to taste you?” He asks, bringing two fingers to your clit, moving them in a slow circle. It’s agonizing. You try to move your hips, but Touya holds you down with one arm thrown over your lower stomach. “Patient, baby. I want you to feel good.”

He buries his head between your thighs, swiping his tongue along your entrance. The feeling of his tongue on your clit has you throwing your head back and arching your back, finally giving you some kind of release. A strangled whine escapes your throat, and it only makes Touya work harder.

You’re a mess of slick and blood, pure heaven on his tongue. He brings two fingers to your entrance, pushing in slowly as he sucks on your clit. He moves them in and out of you, running his tongue agonizingly slow over your swollen bud.

“Touya!” You moan, trying to move your hips and failing from the grip he has on you. “I’m close.”

“I know, baby, I know. Wanna come for me?” He teases, moving his fingers in and out of you in slow strokes, barely reaching your sweet spot. He pulls his fingers from you and swipes his tongue along your cunt, licking up your juices like he can’t get enough.

“Gonna cum! Gonna cum, Touya!” You cry, pulling at the inky strands of his hair, now slightly wet with blood from your fingers. “Make me cum!”

His fingers slip back inside of you, moving his mount over you and sucking your clit between his lips. He moves his mouth back and forth, moving his lips and tongue against you as he curls his fingers inside of you. You cum with a loud cry of his name, finally grinding your hips against his face now that he’s no longer holding you down. Touya moans against your cunt, feeling how you twitch at his tongue still moving against you.

When he pulls away, he licks at the blood from the small punctures in your thighs, creating more as he rises from between them. He stands quickly, slipping out of his now stained white tee shirt and dark jeans before hovering over you again.

“How do you feel?” He asks you, kissing down your neck, drinking from you like he’s always wanted.

“Not cursed.” You reply, moving your hips against his as he sucks on your neck. You want more of him, more blood, more flesh. It’s your turn.

When he pulls away, you pull him down by the back of his neck, sinking your newly sharp teeth into the other side of his neck, the one without the wound you gave him before. He sinks into you as you bite, crying out your name as he begins to move his hips. You drink from him and it’s brand new.

He kisses you when you release his neck, his hips moving rapidly against yours. He groans into your mouth, the blood moving between your lips, over your tongues, spilling from your mouths and down your necks. You’re both a complete mess of blood and sweat and spit.

Touya’s hands move from your hips up the length of your body. He fucks into you slowly, moving his hands up to lace his fingers with yours, bringing your arms up above your head. He leans down, sucking more marks into your neck and down your chest. You cry out and grind your hips against his, chasing your release as pain bubbles over your skin in the places he’s marked.

“Please.” You beg as he fucks you deep and slow, “M-more. Want to feel you.”

“Can’t you feel me, angel?” He questions, placing a hand against your lower stomach. He doesn’t speed his movements up at all, forcing you to endure the slow thrusts against your insides.

“You’re teasing.” You breathe, wriggling in his hold, but he keeps your arms pinned above you. “Playing with your food.”

“I’m savoring you.” He chuckles, leaning down to lick your neck.

“I need you to fuck me.” You plead, trying to grind your hips again. Touya grins above you, kissing you deeply before speeding up his thrusts. You gasp against his lips, and he licks into your mouth, tasting his blood on your tongue.

His hips slam into yours, squeezing your hands as he looks into your eyes. You’re beautiful. You’re a monster now, and you’re beautiful. You’re his.

He continues to move in and out of you, his length twitching inside of you as he gets closer and closer to the edge. He continues to drill into you, leaning forward to drink from you once more before he cums. You cry out at the feeling of his teeth in your neck, addicted to the feeling of being eaten, consumed.

“Kiss me.” You pant, feeling the coil tighten within you. “Please, Touya, kiss me.”

He pulls away, blood spilling from his lips as he kisses you. He forces you to drink with his lips against yours. The two of you cum together as you share your blood. His hips begin to slow, riding out both of your orgasms as you swirl your tongue against his. He pulls away, letting go of one of your hands to push your hair from your face.

“You’re mine.” He speaks, rough and possessive. “Forever.”

#dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #bnha x reader #bnha smut #Dabi smut #ghost.writes #ghost.fic

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jell0buss-37 · 2 years ago

Note

I absolutely love your dylan x reader story so far! I was wondering when part 7 was coming out?

Whoops-

Charmer (Dylan Lenivy x reader) Part 7

Ask and ye shall receive. Sorry that this took so long everyone. I've been very busy as of late, but I will be getting back on track! I hope you guys enjoy this. :')

Tw: Canon gore, vomiting, and death, oh my!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

"Three of them are in the Radio Shack. Three more back at the lodge. We're still missing a couple, somewhere in the woods." Static takes over, and you can no longer hear their words.

Dylan's shaking beside you now, and you yourself are struggling to remain calm. "They… shit were they talking about us!?" You look to Ryan, already knowing the answer. "Fuck, oohhh fuck fuck fuck FUCK. They know we're here- I- THEY-" Dylan begins hyperventilating, a panic attack starting.

You have a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach, but not from the fear of the guys out there, from the feeling that something horrible is going to happen.

"I-it's okay. We'll just go back and tell Kaitlyn and the others." Ryan says, while you try to calm Dylan down. You nod, walking over to grab your arrows, opening the door and walking quickly-

"WHAT THE FUCK." You run back inside, slamming the door shut behind you. "There's a fucking bear- wolf- whatever the fuck out there!!!" You whisper shout.

"I-I was gonna say something, but then the radio-" "It's okay." You interrupt Ryan's rambling before it can start. You hear a thud on the roof. Oh fuck, it's on the roof.

It stalks over to above Dylan, who jumps back and away, standing protectively in front of you now. Ryan has his gun pointed at the ceiling, following it's movements around with it.

"Oh shit, it's Kaitlyn and the others-" you all look out the window to see them walking up the path. "We have to warn them! Uhh- Use the PA system!" You suggest, Dylan walking over to it, only to jump back again at hearing the monster growl suddenly.

"FUCK- fuck, nope, sorry." He shouts. Ryan walks over, pressing down on the PA button, and he warns Kaitlyn and the others, telling them to get inside a cabin quickly.

"What do we do!?" He turns to you guys. "U-uh, OH! We have the high frequency loop!" You suggest quickly. "Oh shit, yeah! If this thing has hearing like a dog's, that should scare it off!" Dylan explains. "It'll hurt like hell, but it's worth a shot." "Do it." Dylan nods, turning to you.

"Stay over there, okay?" He tells you seriously now. You nod, quickly moving to the first aid kit and everything, your bow in hand. Dylan looks around him, furiously trying to figure everything out around him, panicking a bit again.

"Dylan- breathe okay? You've got this." You reassure him. He nods, taking a couple breaths. "Something's missing…." He wonders aloud.

He looks up. "Oh… crap. It pulled the wire out…" he says, defeated. "Get it down then!" Ryan tells him. You do NOT like that idea. He stands on the desk, reaching up as far as he can to-

"GAAHH- FUCK, NO- AAAHHHH-" "NOO!!!" You scream out, running over and grabbing on to his legs, desperately trying to pull him down from the beast that grabbed him.

"GAAAHHHH- AAHAHA- FUCK FUCK, CUT IT OFF, CUT IT OFF- IT'S SPREADING!!!" He cries out desperately, coming down from the ceiling with a horrible bite on his hand.

"DON'T." You tell Ryan. He's looking around desperately, dropping the gun and grabbing the chainsaw on the table. "NO-" "DO IT. JUST FUCKING DO IT." Dylan cuts you off. Tears are flooding your eyes, blurring your vision and streaming down your angry red cheeks. You taste the disgusting bile rise in your throat at the sound of the chainsaw starting, and you can't bear to watch as he brings it to his wrist.

You run to the corner of the shack, and vomit your guts out. The sounds of Dylan's screams of pain send a piercing pain through your heart, and the chainsaw stops, as well as the screams.

You shakily grab the first aid kit, and snap out of it. What's done is done. And now Dylan needs you. You move to him, "Go plug in the cord." You command Ryan, kneeling next to Dylan, applying pressure to his hand.

Ryan gets it plugged in, while you make quick work of Dylan's hand. He's in a daze, from the shock his body was thrown into. "W-what now?" Ryan asks.

"Button…" Dylan mumbles. "Press the button!" You shout at Ryan, and he does, a sudden ringing sound surrounding all of you. It jumps off the roof, and runs off into the woods. The speaker goes silent after a second.

"Awe, the speaker blew out…" Dylan pouts. You finish wrapping his hand, well, nub now. He begins to laugh, laying his head in your lap.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him now. He lies on his back, resting his nub on his chest, giggling in euphoria. You can't bring yourself to laugh along.

He rests his arm on his chest, sighing out in relief. That is until the situation finally catches up to him.

"You… you cut off my hand…" he states, out of breath from the adrenaline rushing through him. "Y-yeah…" Ryan answers, folding his arms over his chest, still in shock from the situation as well.

"WHY'D YOU DO THAT!?" "YOU TOLD HIM TO." You yell back at him, rising to stand when he rolls off your lap, now holding his nub to his chest.

"... That was stupid." Dylan replies dumbly, at a loss for better words. You shake your head, walking out of the shack and rubbing your arms, in a very closed off stance.

The others run out of the shack, Kaitlyn ahead of them. "Hey, are you okay? What happened?" She asks while pulling you into her arms, patting you back comfortingly when she saw how distressed you were.

Dylan and Ryan walk out of the shack, Abi gasping when she noticed all of the blood on them. "WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOUR HAND!?" Kaitlyn exclaims, while Dylan just waves it at them.

"I uh, cut it off." Ryan answers awkwardly, while you step back from her to stand beside Dylan. "It doesn't hurt, or anything…" he tells Kaitlyn meekly, scratching the side of his head. He waivers a bit, wobbly, so you stand closer, wrapping you arm around his waist, his good arm wrapping over your shoulders for support.

"Okay, you are OBVIOUSLY in shock." She states, standing on his other side to help keep him steady. You suddenly hear a gunshot ring out. You all startle, and look up to see what appears to be a woman with- is that an eye patch?

"Oh, sweet. There's one more thing to worry about." You state, sounding a bit disassociated from the situation. Nick, Kaitlyn and Ryan all look to you, confused. You never speak in that tone, EVER. Shaking off their worried stares, you clear your throat and put on a smile.

"Maybe she killed that bear thing?" You suggest, shrugging a bit. Everyone nods, looking off to where they saw the girl. "And she didn't shoot at us either… Maybe she's a good hunter?" Dylan added on.

You all nod again. "We should probably get to the lodge and get something for your hand." Ryan speaks up. "Oh, uh, that's not a very good idea… one of the hunters is there." Kaitlyn tells you guys.

"So that's why you guys came down here with us?" You ask them, while they all nod at you once again. "We can always go to the pool house?" Abi suggests. "Isn't that where that, uh, huntress was?" Dylan asks.

"Well… Maybe not anymore?" Ryan answers, although not very confidently. Nick scoffs, and begins to walk, getting ahead of the group. Abi quickly scampers off to join him.

The rest of you look to eachother, shocked at Nick, the biggest sweetheart out of all of you, seemed the most aggravated at the moment. And with that, you guys were off. Kaitlyn had quickly moved to join Ryan, leaving you with Dylan.

He wavers a bit, so you tighten your grip on him. "Sorry, just getting a bit weak in the knees for ya, heh." He weakly jokes. You don't respond, and he frowns at that. "H-hey, uhm… You okay, Squirt?" He asks.

You look up at him, raising a brow. "Squirt?" You question. He gets flustered, scratching the back of his neck. "W-well, I- uh. It's just that-" you cut off his rambling by chuckling at his behavior.

His cheeks darken, but he smiles anyway at the sound of your laughter. "Hah, yeah, I'm okay. I'm just…. Lost in thought? I guess with everything going on and all, I didn't really get to think too much. But now that everything is chill again, I just…. I kinda realized a couple things." You trail off, pondering more.

He nods slowly, leaning his head on yours a bit, comforting you while pulling you in tighter to his side. "Like what?" He asks.

You take a breath, trying to form your thoughts into words. "Well… for starters, I think that maybe it's a good thing that we cut your hand off when we did." You admit.

His eyes widen, stomach dropping. But not from hurt or anger, in fear that he wasn't the only one who thought so. He also felt warmth, relief and comfort in the fact.

"It's just that- that black shit that looked like it was beginning to spread into your arm! Who knows what would've happened!?" You continue to tell him.

"A-and there's something more…. I think that… THING, just might actually be a-" "Werewolf?" He finishes for you, smiling weakly. You return it, nodding, hoping to god that you were wrong.

"I also think there might be more…" you say after a few moments of silence. He looks down at you in surprise. "The one that attacked me… I shot at it with one of my arrows. I got it in the eye, and I'm pretty sure it went pretty deep, because I was close when I shot it. It would still have it, for sure. The one from the Radio Shack-"

"The one that bit me." He adds. You nod sadly. "Right. That one didn't have one. O-or any injury either. The only real conclusion we can even come to is that there's most likely more."

And with that concluding sentence, you both go silent in thought. "Damn… I guess it's a really fucking good thing that I chopped my hand off then…" Dylan says. You pulled him closer, if that's even possible at this point, protective.

"I'm sorry you had to see that…" He tells you, kissing the top of your head, mumbling into your hair. "Oh, I didn't actually see anything. See, I was too busy hurling my lunch in the corner." You informed him. He busts out laughing, having to stop, doubling over.

Ryan and Kaitlyn stop with you guys, stopping their conversation and looking at you two in curiosity. "I was just telling him about how I upchucked my guts when you had to cut his hand off." You tell them, smiling at the sound of Dylan's laughter.

Kaitlyn snickers a bit, Ryan nodding and smiling apologetically. "Yeah… it was a lot too…" He says. You all begin to giggle and chuckle. And then, for just about the 100th time that night, you guys are cut off by a scream.

"Oh god, not again…" Dylan whispers, and you guys all rush to catch up to Nick and Abi, who have made it to the pool.

Running up the steps, you all freeze to see a dead body floating face down in the pool.

A sudden heat washes over you, your ears clog up, tears springing to your eyes, stomach clenching, and before you know it, you're running over to the side, hunching over and releasing everything from your body.

Oh god. Not again…

#the quarry #the quarry x reader #dylan the quarry #fanfiction #dylan lenivy x reader #dylan lenivy #dylan x reader #the quarry dylan #fanfic

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