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[pajamei]

𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔷𝔬  ♡  𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢  𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

notes: an anon requested more hanzo as a blanket statement and i’m feeling up to it! lets get cute with this sad boy. rating: teen, he deserves fluff pairing: hanzo x gender-neutral reader .

♡   date nights have always felt like foolish attempts to curry favour, new ways to pull the wool over his lover’s eyes

♡  it’s a trick, a trap to lull you into a false sense of security. he can be dressed exceptionally, his metal arm covered by a well-tailored suit and hanzo can pretend he isn’t a murderer

♡  he errs on the side of dinners at restaurants you’d be shocked at the price of. it always makes him bloom just a little bit inside when you blush and demand somewhere cheaper next time. you both know it isn’t going to happen.

♡  his blessed mistake comes in the form of ordering an empty venue, just the two of you at the most table in a high-rise building. the city is beauty, spread out before you.

♡  and hanzo is, too, even as he tries to avoid your searching gaze. no one is here to bother you, to stop you from reaching for his prosthetic and gently holding it as if it were a hand made of flesh.

♡  you say he’s easier to read than he thinks, and hanzo’s eyes go steely. but before he can find insult in your concern, you pick up his hand and press a kiss to cold steel.

♡  his palm is warm where your mouth left a soft sigh, his heart can do nothing but break with how quickly you try to mend wrongs that shouldn’t have happened.

♡  you love him, his face is a mask of grim acceptance and the deepest sadness. he would ask, implore you to share your sadness if he saw the same.

♡  with a start, he begins to apologize for ruining the night. you shush him, promising that nothing’s been ruined. you just couldn’t help but notice he seemed quiet.

♡  well, quieter. and that moment of surprising levity makes him smile. your thumb draws comforting circles are his metal knuckles, so soft and consistent that he can almost feel it if he pretends.

♡  he says that he’s trying to think of things to say, happy things. things that would sound like what his father would speak of to his mother. things that won’t make you think he’s a monster.

♡  you make a choice, your eyes drawn to his. and you say that you already saw the bloodstain on his dress shirt before trying to hide it. you know that he was somewhere else before meeting you.

♡  hot shame runs through him, and he tries to extract his fingers from your own.

♡  you hold on tight, gripping his palm and applying affection pressure he wishes he could sense.

♡  and you tell him that you don’t know if you care about what he’s done this time, for what reason he’s killed. but that hiding from it ensures you’ll never be able to decide.

♡  he isn’t allowed to run from you, pinned in that moment like a butterfly to a board. and you look at him, hold him. you watch as part of hanzo struggles to accept the stand you’ve made.

♡  it’s just date night, but it’s more than that to him. and even to you. it’s the time when he’s most vulnerable, laid bare in the middle of a dining room when all he wanted was to be someone else. someone better for you.

♡  but it is... warm, this feeling of understanding. it makes his shoulders slack, he lets his arm extend properly across the table now that he doesn’t need to hide what happened to someone who crossed his arrow.

♡  you ask him if he wants to discuss what happened, and hanzo shakes his head. you understand even that, so long as he’ll recognize that it did happen at all in front of you. he’s so keen to run, always to run.

♡  he’s fearful, much as he loathes it, about the next action he make take that will convince you he’s lost. perhaps you can handle the abstract, but not the details.

♡  you just wave your hand. the gesture isn’t dismissive, instead putting the topic aside for when he’s prepared. it happened, he’s not hiding from that at least.

♡  you have time enough to find out the rest, and to love him anyway.

[pajamei]

𝔧𝔲𝔫𝔨𝔯𝔞𝔱  ♡  𝔡𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔦𝔶

notes: this is an on-fire twink, could be a nursery !!  basically jamie’s cute as a button and i wanna give him a stable home life no matter how hard he tries to fight it . rating: teen, this is just good clean family fun . pairing: junkrat x gender-neutral reader .

♡  he knows you’re the one when you make him fairy bread for breakfast, not that he’ll readily admit it. but when he pulls himself out of a lumpy bed to the smell of toast that isn’t burned, a manic giggle bubbles in his throat

♡  jamison’s quick to ask if you care at all about his health, sprinkles on bread isn’t the most wholesome thing to start the day off with

♡  but you shrug and say that they do it all the time in the netherlands, and they seem healthy enough. if it’s good enough for europeans, it’s good enough for the both of you

♡  he proceeds to tease you mercilessly for being worldly, and choosing the harsh outback of all places to call home when clearly you’re ritzy enough to have travelled all over the world

♡  you just smile and gently flick his nose, setting a plate of sprinkle-topped, heart-shaped toasts in front of him

♡  he appreciates the attention to detail, they’re gone so quickly that he half expects you to admonish him for trying to choke himself

♡  you don’t, though. you just smile like you know a secret and go back to buttering slices of bread before joining him

♡  when he’s eaten his fill before you’ve even sat down, he takes to watching as you slowly chew your breakfast. his huge coffee mug’s topped to the brim with bubble tea 

♡  you ask him what he’s looking at, which prompts another “argument” about whether or not he has a crush on you

♡  he feels a lot, just in general, but his favourite thing is to deny that any of it is positive. and that any of it could ever be for you

♡  even as jamison sits with his chin propped up on his fist and watches you read comics on your datapad, unable to keep his expression from going soft and fond

♡  but no, no, he doesn’t have a crush at all

♡  you’re the only person he’s ever met who asks him what he’s laughing at when he can’t keep a giggle down, and didn’t intend it to be an insult. you want to know the funny story he’s remembering, the source for the surge of glee

♡  it doesn’t matter how gruesome or deadly he makes himself sound, you’re impressed by his ingenuity. you call it his “something from nothing” super power

♡  he can make explosives from trash, turn the explosives into fire. and then when it’s all over, he can make a story out of how he did it. and that stuns him to silence for a moment

♡  he just sits there, feeling oddly useless in spite of how you’ve just praised him. jamison chews the straw he sips his tea through, looking nervous

♡  until you break the silence, seemingly not even aware of why it was there in the first place, to show him the punchline panel of a comic you love

♡  and he settles back into banter, teasing you for tastes and asking leading questions. he likes it when you talk about things that make you happy

♡  happiness never felt like something that could belong to him, this feels deeper than what even explosives can provide

♡  well, almost. he sneaks fireworks into the bone-dry dirt in the backyard and makes you jump by setting them off

♡  but you’re never so angry as to openly admonish him for that, his more dangerous behaviours were curved sooner than you would have thought

♡  he dreads the shame of you scolding him, which is so bizarre. it almost makes him giggle at inopportune moments, but he’s done his best to make them fewer in number

♡  you’re genuinely patient with him, and show your seemingly bottomless affection by making sure he eats well and is allowed to talk about his hobbies

♡  it’s all so normal. so sweet and simple. if he weren’t on the receiving end, jamison imagines he’d grow quite sick of how lovey-dovey you are

♡  but it is for him, in a way he never thought it could be. he figures it can’t hurt to let you ride it out, see how long the joke lasts until you realize you’re better off without him

♡  it hasn’t happened yet, he has his fingers crossed it never will.

[pajamei]

𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔭𝔢𝔯  ♡  𝔲𝔫𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔨𝔢𝔡

notes:  got an anon asking for more gabe content, ask and ye shall receive !!  i barely need to be prompted at this point, i’m very in love with my dramatic edgelord hubby . rating: mature for violence and body horror reasons, it’s not too graphic, but read at your own discretion pairing:  reaper x gender-neutral reader .

♡  gabriel is... hesitant to let moira assist in his recovery during non-life-threatening scenarios. if they’re both out of the field, he’d rather patch himself up with duct tape and brown paper than let her touch him again

♡  talon is understaffed in the support department. while you’re not necessarily a focused healer, you can usually muscle your way into helping on the homefront better than dotor o’deorain can

♡  gabriel doesn’t trust anyone with keeping him alive, he’s had to fight too hard for it. but he’s less inclined to lash out and try to hurt you when you insist he needs help

♡  even as he snaps that he’s not going to die from a shattered mask, you beg to differ. there are so many small veins and arteries in the face, he could easily make this more dangerous by refusing aid

♡  you remind him that he could expose himself to infection, blood loss, horrible pain ---

♡  and you don’t like how he laughs when you blurt out the last potential symptom. he’s already in pain, you know that. but it does not occur to him immediately, and it scares him that it does, that you’re deeply interested in making sure he doesn’t suffer more than he already has

♡  a stray bullet from a sniper turned the left half of his mask into an artery-severing hazard. you find him holed up as far away from anyone else as he can manage

♡  his laughter makes him flinch, the ever-present ache behind his eyes becoming a very real and very severe sting

♡  you look so scared. not of him, not of seeing his face, but of him being in pain. and it makes gabriel scoff and shrug. fine, you can patch him up but you’re never allowed to tell anyone that it happened

♡  relaxing, you remind him that you never told anyone about the first time you saw him without his mask. but that doesn’t provide any comfort

♡  you were scared, then, too. caught off guard by the horrifying sight of what lies under the skull on the outside. in truth, there isn’t much of a difference between gabriel’s mask and his face

♡  he is as haggard and boney as you recall the last time, his skin a colour that you can only describe as off. inhuman. slightly cold to the touch when you gently ease his hood back and coax the larger pieces away from his skin

♡  he’ll need a new mask. gabriel doesn’t know what to say when you ask if he has any ideas, watching as more and more of that which should remain hidden is brought to light

♡  but he can’t find any trace of genuine fear in your eyes. there isn’t any emotion but sheer determination, even as the largest intact piece of engraved metal is slowly removed. that leaves only the shards embedded in his cheek

♡  his blood is like an oil slick, coppery and viscous. you seem unbothered by it, a doctor’s precision in your eyes as you take his face in your warm hand

♡  it’s painful to be touched, every nerve in his body is alight and on fire with the heat of something living so close to him. but gabriel adjusts, he bites down on the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound

♡  if you know it hurts, you’ll stop. you’ll pull away

♡  he doesn’t know if he could handle that kind of rejection a second time, not now that you’re the first since the accident to learn that the sight of him doesn’t always mean death

♡  you’re careful with him, so much so that he has to fight not to disintegrate under your fingertips. this gentleness is frightening, if his heart could beat how it used to it would be breaking his ribs

♡  thank god you stay quiet while you go through the motions of removing debris and shards of his mask. his wounds drip coal-black blood, but you stay firm and professional

♡  he flinches once, when you press the pad of your finger to his lower lip while trying to secure a bandage on his cheek. your hands go still, but they stay where they are while you assure him you’re sorry

♡  after a moment, he grumbles that he knows you didn’t mean to hurt him. and your eyes soften to the point that he worries you’ll feel his cheeks heating

♡  in the end, he’s gaunt and bandaged but alive and without threat of infection

♡  you kneel in front of him, looking content with your work and wiping your hands on your trousers

♡  that is, until you make a triumphant sound and turn back to your medical bag. pushing rolls of tape, thermometers and capped scalpels aside, you pull out another mask for gabriel to wear

♡  you explain that sombra told you he was hurt, as she was there when it happened. she said it was his face injured the worst, and you know how uncomfortable he is without his mask

♡  you hold it out to him, expecting him to snatch it up. gabriel just sits there, tired and uncomfortably warm. he doesn’t say anything, a thank you feels insufficient

♡  still, you understand. with even more care than you had removing shards of his mask from his skin, you lower the new one back into place. his face covered, he feels whole again

♡  your hands settle on either side of his face, and he doesn’t stop you when you tug him closer

♡  he can’t feel your lips ghosting over his mask, but this kind of touch is removed enough that he can push the pain of existing to the back of his mind

♡  you distract him with a few, well-placed kisses that make his head swim. it isn’t terrible, is the worst part, even as his shoulders go stiff

♡  pulling away, he has to wonder if your cheeks are warm as well. or if that’s simply how full of life you are, in grim contrast to himself

♡  he stops you before you try to leave, and shifts over on his cot so you can sit. happily, you do.

[pajamei]

the way you wrote that reaper piece was amazing !! i'd love to read more reaper/gabriel reyes stuff tbh i love one (1) man

𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔩 𝔰𝔩𝔬𝔱  ♡

omg, thank you so much !!  overall, i didn’t actually expect anything to happen when i posted that. i just sorta felt the gabe vibes and went for it but it actually means so much that you enjoyed it !!  i have plans for more that will be delivered on very soon. thank you, honeybee !!

[pajamei]

𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔰  𝔞𝔯𝔢  𝔬𝔭𝔢𝔫  ♡

hiya !!  i’m new to the overwatch fandom and have a couple hcs i’ve posted so far, but i’d love to hear your ideas and thoughts. so if you have things you want to share and me to write out, read my faq here and then put your request in my inbox !! 

[pajamei]

𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔭𝔢𝔯  ♡  𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔶𝔞𝔯𝔡  𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔢  .

notes:  so gabe is my massive theatre nerd baby and i just. i like the idea of him gettin’ a lil lovin’ even after the whole *stares at canon hollowly*. he’s struggling, someone help him . rating: teen, but these do deal with themes of death / existentialism . pairing:  reaper x gender-neutral reader .

♡  it isn’t a date, it’s a covert meeting to discuss talon business. of course. and you’re not about to put at risk any one-on-one time with him for the sake of teasing

♡  he does actually appreciate that. getting deep in his feelings and having to think about them in even small ways makes him retreat from that which he still needs

♡  sentiment and companionship are part of being human. to try and fluster him over that would only backfire to some foolish assertation that he is no longer human 

♡  and you know he is. you catch him rolling his shoulders as take the steps up from your family mausoleum. psyching himself up for the conversation, you imagine, and you bite back a smile

♡  you still can’t sneak up on him, though. he freezes mid-act and turns to glare at you through the holes in his mask, ready with accusations that you intended to make the reaper fear you

♡  if he’s taken aback by your smile, or the way you insist that you would never, it’s hard to tell with his face covered

♡  you’ve seen it, his face. once. it isn’t something that he’d soon like to repeat

♡  you just shrug and explain that you’ve been sneaking around through the underground tunnels in your family’s tomb since you were a teenager

♡  his earlier insistence that this is a private meeting hasn’t slipped your mind, but gabriel lets you regale him about slipping out of the house on cool nights to take in the moonlight

♡  he asks if you were a witch. or a necromancer. both intended as jokes but his are rarely ever received as such. and to his immortal surprise, your bubbling laugh stands at odds with the eerie atmosphere

♡  that’s twice he’s made you smile, it hasn’t even been ten minutes yet

♡  is he proud? he doesn’t like it if he is. he doesn’t like it at all. and what does he care if interrupting is rude, he knows he never should have asked you something so personal in the first place. even is he was aiming to offend

♡  he opens his mouth to cut you off, but it’s in that moment you explain you were neither witch nor graverobber. just lonely

♡  and that it would have been nice to come here with him years ago like how you do now

♡  gabriel has to cough to break the awkward silence that follows, but you don’t seem to regret saying that to him at all. and he doesn’t particularly feel like lashing about against something so unexpected

♡  or, rather, he can’t. he scrambles to find a jab or an insult that will make sure you remember who you’re talking to, but can’t find the words

♡  he lets you breeze past the declaration, and you end up beckoning him to join you on a bench erected in lieu of a headstone for your great-great aunt

♡  to your surprise, gabriel seems too in shock to decline. he doesn’t like to think it was because you were the one who asked, but he slinks to your side and sits down on the cold stone

♡  your thigh bumps his and he’s surprised again by the way it feels. your touch is just as painful as anything else, it hurts to have a body, but it’s worse when you pull away

♡  people forget easily that it hurts for him to exist. like a resurrected corpse that should not be moving, his continued existence is hubris

♡  but you never do. you make a point not to touch him, even as you’re laughing and smiling and acting far too familiar. gabriel is cynical enough that he knows it shouldn’t mean anything, shouldn’t matter that you still value his humanity enough to think about that

♡  still, you treat him like he were alive

♡  and you ask if he really wants to talk business out here, because he’s being awfully quiet. you don’t flinch in the slightest when he bites back that he hardly wants to see you otherwise

♡  your nasty habit of putting him in his place rears again when you just grin and say that’s too bad, you’re always excited just to see him

♡  just to look at him

♡  a kind of looking that isn’t quite as painful as he’s used to, he notes with a jaw clenched so tightly that his face goes numb beneath his mask. he feels hot, stifled

♡  and then you burst into a bubbling flurry of giggles, so air-light and genuinely happy that even gabriel’s frayed nerves can’t find fault in it

♡  your hand extends and stops just a fraction away from his masked shoulder, pantomiming comfort to the point where he can almost imagine feeling you touch him. and imagining it feeling good

♡  this creeping sensation doesn’t last, you pull back and skip to the part in the conversation where you start asking questions about new team members, about how they’ll fit and what he’s planning

♡  it’s easy enough to fall back into terse, sarcastic banter. gabriel isn’t sure he likes it more, but he understands it far better than your attempts to be sweet. there isn’t much more he distrusts

♡  it’s obvious you’re fond of him, but it’s the why that makes him sit on the bench in silence long after you’ve kissed the air around his cheeks and disappeared back to the real world

♡  he feels lonely and empty all the time, but he notices it most without you providing a distraction. and he fights that feeling so hard, even if gabriel secretly hopes he’s never able to push you away completely

♡  no one has ever stuck around through his corrosive exterior, not even before the accident. but you laugh with him, and have a trained eye for picking out his behaviour that shows he likes you more than he lets on

♡  it isn’t fair to you, he knows that. and even gabriel isn’t so far gone that he can’t care about that. but if what you want is to joke and flirt with him surrounded by the dead every so often, he’ll keep asking you to meet there

♡  the alternative is suffering as he does alone, and you’ve made that unbearable.

[pajamei]

𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔷𝔬  ♡  𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔰𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔰  .

notes:  got seized with the sudden, manic urge for loving on this busted-up sad boy. this is set after genji’s death for maximum angst potential . rating: mature, this isn’t fully smut but there’s some sensual themes . pairing:  hanzo x gender-neutral reader .

♡  he’s never taken especially good care of himself, for one reason or another. whether that be because of an underlying discomfort with his actions or because he simply assumed that one could not live poorly when one had money is unknown even to hanzo

♡  but he’s always been bad at relaxing. bad at sitting still and resting even when it’s called for. even when he had a consistent place to call home, he would look for reasons to stay out. to keep working even when the work was hurting him

♡  hanzo isn’t better now, per-say. in fact, you’re concerned that he’s only gotten worse without the veneer of wealth to at least keep him eating right. but for all the ways that he punishes himself for his mistakes, you find small ways to combat the narrative that he only deserves suffering

♡  he isn’t happy when you clap your hands and tell him to turn over, that you’re going to give him a back rub. still, complaining outwardly isn’t to his taste, it reminds him overmuch of when he was a more brash and heartless boy

♡  there’s the usual insistence that he’s fine. that tonight will be fine, even if you both know he’s grabbed you tight in the dark and refused to tell you what his nightmare was about

♡  this isn’t fine, and that’s why you push back. you tell him he looks haunted, that he needs to unwind before the two of you need to leave tomorrow. there’s time now, and he will let you take care of him

♡  hanzo makes you put a little bit of effort into getting him to comply, though. you sit down heavily on the bed and nudge at his shoulder, not with any particular direction at first. but eventually he gives in to the pressure

♡  the mattress is strange and hard, but he’s more than used to it. his muscles ache when you push him down onto his stomach, arms folding above his head to rest under his cheek

♡  he feels exposed, like a nerve under a microscope and subjected to constant stress-testing. even when you try to be gentle, he flinches away from feeling warm skin against his 

♡  touch is supposed to hurt, isn’t it? he hasn’t touched anyone but to kill them for such a long time. but you just sigh, and say that you know it’s difficult. you’re trying to help him. hanzo replies that he knows, that you can do what you like

♡  he is fucking broken, you feel that as soon as your hands touch his shoulders again. hanzo gives a sigh and tries some approximation of relaxing when you all but force him to accept it

♡  it’s like a flickering candle, but he holds together when your palms press against muscle pulled taught. he isn’t aware of how badly he aches until you begin to ease it with firm circles of your thumbs on either side of his spine

♡  he feels your weight and your warmth right next to him, a comfortable and familiar presence. he’s tried to desert this base joy in his life a few times, and you’ve never once let him get far

♡  for better or worse, you’re following him on his pilgrimage. you’re putting food in front of him and a bed beneath him, and hands on him so that he can know something other than guilt

♡  he actually struggles to keep contented noises behind his teeth. every so often you’ll hear a strained groan or sigh as you work the tension from his muscles. hanzo is so stiff and high-strung at all times, you wonder if he was always this way

♡  all you know is that he used to have money, and he did something so terrible that one day he’ll try to permanently sever ties with you by telling you what it is. secretly, you know that it won’t work, and that he’s foolish to hope that his greatest source of comfort could be twisted into a new guilt

♡  but you know he doesn’t mean to use you as justification that he deserves what he puts himself through. while good is a relative description, you know him to be an honorable and thoughtful man. definitely one who deserves gentleness

♡  hanzo absolutely could be in love, and that’s what terrifies him. that’s what makes him suddenly try to rise from the bed, even with no true effort behind the attempt

♡  and just as quickly, there’s fingers on the back of his neck keeping him in place. perhaps he did it just to see if you would stop him, he isn’t sure. but hanzo seems to wilt under the insistence that he isn’t going to escape

♡  he apologizes, just once under his breath and presses his warm cheek to the cold fabric of the pillow. you hum, your hand moving up to his hair. you pull on the tie holding it back and let it fan out over his shoulders

♡  you have a fascination with his hair, playing with it while you work and making him slip ever-closer to looming unconsciousness. sleeping in front of someone else makes his gut tighten, but the way you touch him is warm and non-threatening

♡  he’s blushing, hot and more than a little embarrassed he can still enjoy such physical reprieves. hanzo likes it a lot when your fingers make a loose fist at the back of his neck around the strands of hair, and gently pull

♡  he gasps, stutters and struggles to breathe for a moment. his trousers are suddenly unbearably tight, and his hips press involuntarily against the bed. above him, he hears you giggle

♡  hanzo expects the flare of hot shame, of disgust to rise in him. but instead, he finds himself only reaching to hold the pillow his cheek rests on closer. he covers his face so there is no threat at all of you catching him smiling, too

[pajamei]

𝔯𝔬𝔞𝔡𝔥𝔬𝔤  ♡  𝔠𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔦𝔠  𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔫  .

notes:  had a bad pain night so i’m kicking off this headcanon blog with a bit of light self-indulgence involving mako comforting a reader with chronic pain. what can i say, i don’t half-hog anything !! rating:  teen, warning that this obviously deals with both parties suffering from physical ailments . pairing:  roadhog x gender-neutral reader .

♡  chronic pain is something he knows very deeply, even if admitting it is challenging for him

♡  he’s strong. pain is nothing to him, and yet it’s so ingratiated in every part of his life that it’s also everything

♡  he understands when he finds you doubled over and crying, struggling to keep your breathing even. he doesn’t say a word, just lingers in the doorway and waits

♡  you look so small in his bed. fragile. delicate things shouldn’t hurt this badly, he’s strong but you shouldn’t have to be

♡  the world doesn’t deserve you at all, and you don’t deserve to feel so hopeless that all you can do is cry

♡  to your credit, you don’t lash out as he expects he might. If he had feelings, which he doubts significantly now, and the situation were reversed? he isn’t sure how his anger and humiliation would manifest

♡  but you only hug his pillow tighter to your chest, and let out a broken sob. Your shoulders collapse in on themselves, shaking as you struggle to catch your breath

♡  you stiffen up and inhale sharply, before holding out a hand and motioning for him to come

♡  it was the cue he was waiting for, even if he pushes that thought down immediately. you need him, so he moves to the bed

♡  it sags under his weight, making you flinch. before mako can stop himself, he’s mumbling an apology

♡  and you turn, slowly, to him. you rest your chin on his big shoulder and you give a weak, strained smile. you tell him it’s okay, it doesn’t hurt as bad with him there

♡  it’s got to be the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. and it makes him laugh, a short, harsh sound that makes his belly jiggle. the mattress shakes gently

♡  and then you’re laughing, too. softly and with the occasional wince or noise of pain

♡  when the giggles die down, he surprises himself again by asking if you need sleep. And when you nod, he’s put on edge by the way he gingerly lies down without another word

♡  what does he care about pain in his own body, let alone causing it in others? but his chest aches at the thought of seeing you struggle again, even indirectly because of him

♡  so he waits for you to come to him, watching as you carefully tuck your chest against his

♡  he’s so warm, and your skin is flushed too. but you don’t seem to care, don’t even seem to notice as you bite back sharp gasps in an effort to get comfortable

♡  mako wants to help. but this is helping, he ultimately decides. your needs are different than his, hogdrogen isn’t a cure-all

♡  and if you say this helps, he has no choice but to lie still. He has killed and burned so much to the ground, but his gut instinct when he sees you struggling is to ease your pain

♡  his hands feel clammy, he tries to wipe them off on his dirty jeans before putting them on either side of your face

♡  mako isn’t able to take off his mask, and you can understand that. he needs it to survive, to alleviate his own hurt even as he tells himself he doesn’t feel it any more

♡   but he bumps his forehead against yours, so delicately that it could be affectionate. you make a sound that isn’t pained, but it’s just as soft. a content, little sigh that makes something fleshy behind his ribs twist

♡   could this be healing? everything he touches turns malignant, worn down by grit and age. but he feels lighter when you make yourself comfortable against him

♡   your arm, so flimsy compared to his own is cast over his thick shoulder. you coil around him, trying to find the position that will help you rest

♡   he asks if it’s good when you go still. it’s a dumb question, what does it matter if what he can offer is enough? you’ll take it or leave it

♡   and he is grateful to his aching bones that you don’t leave. you don’t even twitch. a soft sigh, then another and you’re asleep

♡   pain takes work, it’s energy. it’s exhausting, hurting in places that shouldn’t know what it feels like. 

♡   your body is small and comforting, pressed so tightly against his. he cups a big hand at the back of your skull, pulling you just a bit closer 

♡   he feels your cheek against his chest, still a little wet and hot with tears. and he does his best to force air through his lungs in a way that mimics your even breathing

♡   he hasn’t slept in a while, either. mako closes his eyes, he could try.