#Full Mouth Rehabilitation course

[clinicalmastery]

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[bhutanidentalcourses]

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Full mouth rehabilitation is a comprehensive approach to restoring the health, function, and aesthetics of a patient's entire mouth. At Dr. Bhutani Dental Courses, our Full Mouth Rehabilitation Courses in India are designed for dental professionals looking to enhance their skills and knowledge in this advanced field. These courses cover a wide range of topics, including diagnosis, treatment planning, and the latest techniques in restorative and prosthetic dentistry. With hands-on training and expert guidance from experienced instructors, participants will gain the confidence and expertise needed to perform complex dental procedures. Join Dr. Bhutani Dental Courses and take your practice to the next level with our comprehensive Full Mouth Rehabilitation Courses in India

[tojipie]

prison bf series linked here !

content: violence, injury, blood, incarceration

˚ ✧ ───────────

prison bf ! toji who beats the shit out of other inmates to have more time on the commissary phone with you, pocketing loose change from his bunkmates to use on your weekly calls.

“this is an automated message from the tokyo prefecture rehabilitative penitentiary, to accept, pres—“

“hey pretty girl.” the bass of his voice sends a tremor up the length of your spine. you can already picture his bulky form leaning up against the brick walls of the prison mess hall.

“hi toji.” you giggle, swinging your legs behind you with glee. “did you get my package?”

“course i got your package.” he laughs, slipping a hand into his pocket to fiddle with the trio of polaroids you’d slipped into the letter. “guards gave me a ton of shit for it though.”

“aww i’m sorry.” you mumble, feeling guilty for the trouble.

“nah, don’t worry about it baby.” he laughs, shifting to looking through the candids you sent of your sweet smile.

“did you end u—”

“wrap it up fushiguro i need to call my fucking lawyer!”

the crunch you hear through the receiver is nothing short of sickening. it’s a while before the older man brings the phone back to his mouth, mumbling incoherently to himself.

“—blood on my fucking hands… hello?”

“i’m here toji.” you say, listening intently to the sound of shrill guard whistles blowing in the background. “do you have to go?”

“you know how it is babydoll.” he says apologetically. you cant help but squeeze your thighs together at how soft he can be with you, even with blood splattered across his knuckles and a room full of men who fear him.

“you’ll visit me this week right?” he asks, wiping his hands on the front of his wifebeater.

“mhm, i’m driving up tomorrow! you want me to bring you anything special?”

“you uhh, still got those chips i like at home?”

“you know i do.”

“that’s my girl.” he laughs, hanging the phone back up on the hook.

[nixwriteschaos]

(BNHA)

hey there! i'd like to request a story about a male/gn vigilante reader (teen), and they eventually get caught by the pro heroes. from there, they are basically forced into UA, class 1-A (reader has been a vigilante for a few years back and has quite the skills to become a hero, and reader does relatively well academically). everything from there will be up to you!

this is actually my first time requesting, so im not exactly sure if this will go through, I've read the guide and everything. no pressure, I hope you have a great year, bye!!

Little Rebel

CLASS 1A x Male!Vigilante!Reader Summary: Y/N, also known as his vigilante name, V/N, was sadly caught by Eraserhead. His punishment, due to him still being a minor, was to attend U.A as a student for his rehabilitation, with Eraserhead as his supervisor.

★☽A/N: I see! It’s your first request! Not to worry, your request is perfect and it aligns with my guide! I really appreciate that you read my guide first! I hope this is a nice first time!

Contents: FLUFF

Quirk: Similar to Inumaki from JJK, the user has the ability to make anything happen according to what he says. But unlike Inumaki, the user is able to control when he uses his Quirk.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

“Y/N L/N, is it?” A massive mutant dog read. He looked away from the papers and down at a young boy, frowning as he sat crossed on his chair from across the room. He scoffed and turned his head. “Considering you’re still a minor, your punishment won’t be severe. According to your records, your Quirk is quite controlled and your academics are actually quite impressive for a drop out…” The mutant read off the papers for the boy, who didn’t care at all.

“Very well, I decided your punishment.” Y/N couldn’t help but scoff and smirked. He dealt with worse when he started at the age of 13. What could possibly be so bad about this “punishment” ?

“You will be joining U.A as a full-time student.”

“Huh?”

“HUH?!”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

From that day forward, he became a student at U.A. He didn’t expect himself to be in the hero course, especially Class 1A. He had only heard rumors about them, about how they were attacked by villains during their trip to the USJ and a few mentions of some 1A students on internships.

To be honest, he was a bit nervous. He dealt with people, but not in a friendly way. He was scared, slightly, at the thought of being in the same class as some hero in training students.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

During his first meeting, he was still pissed by the punishment, especially the fact that Eraserhead, the one who “captured” him, was his supervisor. He stood outside of the class, his waist tied to a part of Eraser’s scarf to prevent him from running away.

After waiting for a while, he heard his name getting called out, but he didn’t respond. There is no way in hell I’m standing in front of a bunch of hero trainees! He thought to himself.

He didn’t have much of a choice, as he was pulled by the waist by the scarf into the classroom, his whole figure on display to 20 students. They all looked at him with curiosity, except a blonde boy.

“Are you saying a damn weak villain is going to study with us?! Fuck no!”

“That’s enough, Bakugou.” Aizawa groaned. Bakugou was ready to say something, an insult, but was stopped by one word.

“Shut up.”

His mouth suddenly closed up. He clawed at his own mouth, trying to get it open, panicking and angry at the situation. Y/N had to cover up his snicker with a cough. “How pathetic,” he commented with a smirk. Another struggle of words came from the blonde who was ready to throw a bunch of insults but couldn’t due to his forced closed mouth.

Y/N’s snickers couldn’t be stopped. His snickers were clearly heard by the blonde. He suddenly stood up and walked over to the H/C with heavy stomps. Before he could get his hands on him, he was stopped by Aizawa’s scarf.

His growls were like an angry dog, a chihuahua. He eventually got back to his chair and sat with a grumpy look on his face.

“As I was saying, Y/N L/N is going to be your classmate for this remaining semester. Please treat him with respect.”

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

Now, how does this work out for Y/N?

I’m going to be honest, readers, it did not go well in the beginning!

Y/N, during times he wasn’t supervised thoroughly, would tease Bakugou into attacking him. He thought that if a hero trainee would harm him, he could act his way out of his rehab. Unfortunately, it did not work. Aizawa, being the smart hero he is, figured out his little act, and did not let him off the hook. (Lectured him for hours).

With time, he eventually got to know the students well. They were some he greatly disliked, (A certain purple grape boy..), some who he respected, and those he enjoyed spending time with.

It’s mostly believed that he respected Yaomomo, Tenya Iida, and Todoroki for their smart brains and analytical thinking. He mostly spends time with Jirou, Tokoyami, and Ojirou, who seems to be fine with him and didn’t care that he was only in U.A for rehab.

He would listen to music with Jirou, read poems with Tokoyami, and combat training with Ojirou. He truly enjoys his time with those three.

As for his academics and “hero training,” he has been doing well, almost excellently, with his academics, usually marking A’s and B’s and the occasional C’s, but his grades were much better than some students in Class 1A.

In terms of his “hero training,” he already has some experience of his own which helped him greatly when it comes to situations where he had to fight against other students. He was actually much more advanced than his “peers.” He was smarter, faster, and powerful in terms of Quirk use and combat.

Although he hoped for the principal to realize that he doesn’t need this rehabilitation, he knew the stubborn smiling “mouse” wouldn’t agree to his suggestions. Not to mention, he was a bit afraid of the rat… Something in his eyes just— creeps him out.

A lot of the students respect him greatly! Like Tenya Iida, Yaomomo, and Midoriya, who recognize his great skills and quick thinking! Of course, Katsuki Bakugou was the only one who seemed bothered by the vigilante. You could feel the anger radiating off him! Honestly, it’s hilarious to see his grumpy face whenever Y/N walks by him. After the amount of teasing Y/N did, it was without a doubt that Katsuki Bakugou hated him with all his guts! (But secretly respects Y/N, hehe)

Overall, I can say that Y/N L/N is having a nice time at U.A in Class 1A.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

[majoryeager104]

ℜ𝔢𝔥𝔞𝔟𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 | ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔲𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫

001

Masterlist

“𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑟， 𝑓𝑎𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑎ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎 𝑛 ���𝑛𝑦 𝑤𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑“ － 𝑐． 𝑠． 𝑙．

Summary: an au where Touya was taken into custody after his initial fight with Shoto (I’m coping sm rn) an introduction to this little series of mine I suppose

Warnings: Language, angst, Touya dramatics

Touya Todoroki x gn!childhood friend reader

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Touya felt a sore sensation in his throat as he awoke. Frankly, his whole body was sore, his eyes blinking and dry as his blurred vision adjusted to the lighting of wherever he was. Where was he? It was bright white seemingly everywhere, until his eyes landed on the blurred frame in front of him.

He didn’t know if he should have been nervous, or if he should have sighed in relief when he recognized that blurred frame as you, sitting in a chair in front of him, a calm collected expression on your face. Nervous, because he realized that his hands were firmly clasped and restrained in front of him, in fact his full body was tied down to the chair he sat in, or relieved that you were there with him at all.

“Touya”

Your voice almost startled him. Almost. He blinked up at you, his eyes quickly darting around the pure white room, a large, dark screen of glass to the left of where he sat. Ah shit.

“You listening?”

“…yeah”

He replied quietly, his voice coarse and dry, as his eyes landed back on you, your average attire standing out against the room. You looked nice. He always thought you did. But the context in which you say before him in this room was causing him to bite his tongue before he tried to charm you with his words as per usual. Because what were you doing here? Where was here? Before he knew it, you’d begun to answer his inward questions.

“Your family- mainly Rei and your siblings- and me of course, we uh… we managed to cut you a deal for rehabilitation rather than imprisonment for your-”

“don’t want it.”

He glared blankly at the restraints that bound him, and then back at you. Rehabilitation? He could laugh at the absurdity.

“You haven’t even heard the conditions-”

“I don’t need to y/n. I don’t want it.”

You paused for a moment, collecting your thoughts as you watched his sharp gaze meet yours. You took a breath, opening your mouth to speak once more.

“you’ll be staying with me. Your family will be involved too, I mean it was a part of the agreement-”

“Y/n. Stop. I’m not doing it-”

“you don’t have a choice.”

His face was tense and frustrated, his deep burn scars crinkling and tugging under his expressions. He clearly wasn’t liking what he was hearing, but there was nothing you could do to change it. Your only hope was that he’d realize that before he got too frustrated.

“We’ll be taking care of you, with the help of several doctors and physical therapy specialists, stuff like that… Touya, your dad barely managed to get authorities to agree to this as it is, there’s no going back on it now.”

“oh dad did it!? Great”

Touya snapped, scoffing at you with a furrowed brow- the frustrated contempt of an abused son. You finally tensed as well, your hands mindlessly tugging at the fabric of your pant leg.

“Enji won’t be involved in any other manner! Rei and Shoto made sure of it, and he agreed it would be for the best anyways… please, Touya, we want to see you get better… I want to see you get better”

Before he knew it, he’d already been convinced that your plan might not be so bad. As long as Enji wasn’t involved, he wouldn’t exactly disagree- it was tolerable, really. But as you’d said previously, there wasn’t choice in the matter. He huffed indignantly nonetheless, a frustrated pout ever present on his face as his sharp gaze moved from you, to that dark sheet of glass on the left wall, well aware of the people on the other side listening. What else would it be there for?

“it’s fucking stupid… but fine, I’ll let you sons of bitches rehabilitate me…”

his gaze landed back on you, softening ever so slightly, his venomous words becoming innocuous as his tone followed suit.

“but don’t act all surprised and sad when you eventually fail.”

Because, whether you admitted it or not, you were well aware that Touya was under the impression that not only was he unsavable, but that he wasn’t worth trying to save in the first place. But you were also well aware that now you had the ability to prove him wrong. So rather than say anything else to worsen his mood, you smiled, out of politeness, and out of relief that he was giving you this chance to change his mind.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

taglist (lmk in the comments if you want to be added too) <3 @shaunarcanine

I know I said this would be out on Saturday but I had some spare time and wrapped it up today hehe

[maxislvt]

helloo, first off i love your work ! second, this may or may not be a request but- imagine dark!wanda x spidey!reader, post no way home where r is one of the avengers sent to stop wanda on her rampage. r gets captured by wanda though and turns out wanda remembers r’s identity. she had a crush on r since civil war and now that she has r all to herself…😳

“i’m going to ruin you”

warnings: womb tattoos, coercion, manipulation, spiderperson typical quips in really bad situations, no smut

got a little carried away, whoops!

The last few months of your life have been awful.

Life had been pretty stable for the most part. Trying to balance college, being a superhero duo with your adoptive brother, and the newfound freedom of adulthood was a lot to say the least. Then some big alien freak came along and ruined everything. You and Peter left Aunt May behind for five years.

For better or for worse, you and Peter didn't age. Peter still had his senior year ahead of him and you were only 24. So you both tried to make the most of that.

You were supposed to chaperone your little brother's senior trip through Europe. All you wanted to do was help Peter enjoy the last few months of youth he had before being shipped off to college. Of course, fate had other plans and the trip was interrupted by another cataclysmic event. One unpredictable turn after another. Then suddenly everyone knew your secret identity.

Quentin Beck was a hero and you were half of the duo that killed him.

One edited video and suddenly the whole world was against you and your brother. It was a target on your back you had no way of getting off your back. The magical escape you thought you'd found was nothing but a wolf in sheep's clothing. Universes nearly collided. Three versions of your brother. Two other versions of you. Villains the two of you tried and failed to rehabilitate. A moment of complete darkness for your brother A dead aunt. So much fighting. So much pain. All of it for nothing. At the end of it all, everyone was forced to forget about you and Peter. No more full rides to dream colleges and no more "Amazing Spider Kids". It was just the two of you in a shitty Downton apartment at a community college neither of you really wanted to attend, but that didn't stop you two from trying to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

That need to protect everything and everyone seemed to get you in bigger trouble.

America Chavez. Barely 15 years old, alone in the multiverse, and no one to trust. Her powers and life experience were beyond you — you couldn't even take credit for defeating whatever monster that was chasing her — but you wanted her safe. You foolishly thought that it'd be as simple as finding a hero that could mentor her. Magic wasn't your strong suit. Yet, you still helped America try to escape the claws of the Scarlet Witch along with Doctor Strange.

In the midst of a heated chase, the witch's focus seemed to have shifted. Your mask was ripped by a piece of metal and you could feel the witch's eyes on you. Since you were more focused on protecting America, you decided to send The Scarlet Witch on a goose chase. You and a magical body double of the girl. Unfortunately, you could only run for so long. You didn't bother fighting when you were captured. All you could do was put on a brave face as you were somehow teleported back to your universe. You assumed the witch had gotten a decent portion of America's powers. That worried you, but unfortunately you had to prioritize your personal safety for a moment.

The witch must've known you were too weak to run away because she didn't even bother tying you down. She just stood over you and examined your face. You were nervous and confused to say the least. "So, uh, do you always stand over sacrificial young adults in such a compromising way or am I special?" You quipped. It was a real misfortune your mouth tended to run more when you were nervous. Your heart almost exploded when she reached out for your mask. "Hey, hey! Have some respect for a man's secret identity, will you?" You shouted, trying to push her hands away.

Automatic reflexes were nothing against magic and you were unmasked and it sent your spider senses spiraling.

"You remember me."

"Of course,I remember you. Do you not remember me?"

The airport. Tony had you and Peter flown out for a top secret field mission, that's what he told you at least. You weren't sure what you were fighting for, but you remember the battle clearly. Some guy had grown to a hundred feet tall. You fought some guy with a metal arm. Then someone suddenly started throwing cars. They had all missed you and went straight for Tony, but it was still scary. After the battle, you learned the name of all the people you fought. The weird one, as Tony described her, was named Wanda Maximoff. It's scary how your life had become so eventful that you'd forgotten that whole experience. Well, you couldn't blame yourself for not recognizing her considering the drastic change in her appearance.

"Yeah," You said bitterly, "you threw a car garage at my mentor."

"Your mentor made the bombs that destroyed my home country and had me jailed for powers I didn't ask for."

That was the first time a villain had left you truly speechless. Tony wasn't like that. Was he?It was a lot to process and that wasn't made any easier with the icy cold hand caressing your cheeks. "If you're going to drop an information bomb, can you at least give me a second to —" Your sentence was cut short by her thumb slipping into your mouth. Wanda had managed to slip past your spider senses. It was odd considering you were definitely not calm nor did you trust her.

"I figured he didn't bother telling you the whole truth," Wanda's voice had gotten low and seductive. Her thumb pressed down on your tongue as she continued to monologue. Your squirming didn't phase her at all. "I could hear your thoughts the moment you stepped foot in the airport. So loud and frantic, but nothing but innocence and desire for approval. It's a shame I wasn't able to see you again after that. I was lost in a hex of my own deepest desires and do you know what was there?" A smile spread across her lips as she felt you relax out of curiosity. "The two of us, happily married with two children, and living in New Jersey."

The statement made you jump and start fighting again. Married with kids was definitely not on your list of goals in the next few months, living in New Jersey just sounded dreadful. You managed to get her thumb out of your mouth just long enough to speak. "I'm sorry to hear about your crazy magic thing, I'm not ready to settle down yet. Maybe come back in six years once I've graduated, yeah?"

Wanda binded your wrists with magic. Her hand came down on your cheek with all the strength she had. Despite her frustration, she was happy to see you were still as witty and innocent as the day you two met. "I think I have a plan you'll like." She smirked as she summoned the darkhold. It opened on its own. The book turned towards you and translated itself so you could understand it. "Your innocence," she said before ripping you suit, "and your body in exchange for the girl's safety."

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. It certainly wasn't a fair deal, even more unfair once you looked over the spell presented to you. A womb tattoo magically etched into your skin that would give Wanda complete control over your libido, orgasms, and a bunch of other depraved things you hadn't even heard of before. Wanda definitely wasn't the woman you imagined would take your virginity, but it wasn't an offer you could refuse. Strange wasn't strong enough to defeat Wanda and letting America die wasn't an option in your mind.

You put on as brave a face as you could before speaking, "If you so much as lay a finger on that girl, the deal is off." Your voice faltered at the feeling of Wanda's lips pressed against your neck. A moan nearly escaped your lips when Wanda's hands began exploring your body. The skin of your lower stomach began to tingle. This was it. This was how you lost your virginity.

Wanda's lips curled into a smile. A real one that showed off her perfectly white bunny teeth. She was no longer concerned with America. You were all she needed now.

"I'm going to ruin you," She whispered, "and you're going to enjoy every moment of it."

You wanted her to be wrong. You wanted so badly to hate the way her hands felt against your bruised skin and the softness of her lips on your neck, but you couldn't. Months without affection left your body desperate for any form of human touch. It is shameful and almost disgusting.

"Shh, I'll treat you right. Just be good for me."

[usedtobethelegendcreator]

Okay, just had another thought, partially inspired by Connor Quest’s “Radio Star” fan song on YouTube.

What if, instead of being in Heaven or the Void, Alastor was in a psychiatric hospital in Hell for seven years?

Think about it. An unspecified amount of time before his disappearance, he had a huge fight with Vox, someone he did care about to some extent. In the aftermath of this fight, he would have spiraled. This wasn’t a Mimzy-level argument—no, this was a personal betrayal like nothing he’d ever experienced before.

And, if Alastor was left to his own thoughts long enough, I do think it would have gotten to the point where Husk—by all evidence, his closest thrall, along with Niffty—would call someone to take him in. We know Alastor has trichotillomania (he pulls his hair out in the finale), and who knows what other kinds of danger he’d pose to himself and others in this state of distress?

And so, he’s put in a psychiatric hospital.

Now, at this hospital, there’s a mandatory deal every patient must make. Their powers are to be restrained, to decrease any risk of harm to themselves or others. Makes sense, right? Some of the sinners there could do some real damage if left unchecked, and the hospital can’t take that risk.

After seven years of slowly getting even more mentally unstable in this hospital (it is, after all, a psychiatric hospital in Hell), Alastor finally manages to break out.

While he’s on the run, and pretending he’s not, he hears the Princess’s voice. He checks it out, and he discovers that she’s opening a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. It sounds exactly like what the hospital portrayed itself to be, so he doesn’t trust it. But if he’s under the Princess’s own roof, no one can get him, right? If he gets her on his side, no one can convince her that he should return to the hospital.

So he decides to offer his services to her. Under the guise of boredom, of course—can’t have her suspecting anything!

Charlie turns down his initial offer of a deal (which could have ensured that he was there to stay), but then she commands him to help out with the hotel for as long as he desires. Alastor doesn’t want to leave the political protection, and as long as he isn’t expected to better himself, he’s plunking his ass down here and never leaving.

He summons Husk and Niffty to the hotel to help out. Niffty, who’s never been the brightest bulb, doesn’t realize anything is wrong, but Husk knows damn well Alastor’s not supposed to be out yet. If anything, Alastor is even more of a danger to himself than before. He decides to keep his mouth shut about it (at least, until Lucifer and Mimzy show up…).

Time goes on. Husk notices him getting worse, but to the other residents, nothing is off about Alastor. To them, he’s always been like that. Niffty is starting to realize something is off, too. Alastor’s presence at the hotel is revealed to the public by Vox (DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT THEY’RE GOING TO FIND HIM) and he crushes Vox in “Stayed Gone”. He says he has plans cooking that will destroy the status quo, but not even Husk knows if that’s true or not.

Then, Alastor attends the Overlord meeting. When Alastor says he was taking a “well-earned sabbatical”, Zestial squints his eyes—because he knows that Alastor would never take a break from his beloved radio show unless forced. Zestial thinks it might have something to do with the angels or Lillith, but he can’t know for sure.

By the time Lucifer visits, Alastor is dangerously close to a full breakdown. He’s been playing at (relative) sanity for several months now, but he can’t keep the facade up forever. The stress of pretending has been getting to him, and he’s about to blow like a pressure cooker. And to make matters worse, he doesn’t know if Lucifer will realize he escaped from the hospital—if Lucifer himself wants to turn him in, Charlie’s protection won’t matter anymore. So, Alastor decides to take a more fatherly approach to this perceived threat, to make double sure that, even if Charlie found out about all this, she won’t turn him in anyway.

Mimzy shows up, and for the first time in months, Alastor relaxes. Here’s a friend that’ll understand! Here’s a friend that would never turn him in! He so happy to see her that he goes right in for a hug, and it’s the safest he’s felt since he escaped.

Husk is getting really, really worried now. He’s never seen Alastor this unstable before, and now that Mimzy is visiting too—she always brings trouble with her—his boss is going to snap soon, and it’s not going to be pretty. So, he confronts Alastor in the hallway about Mimzy, and he’s trying to lead up to where Alastor has been for the past seven years (and why he was there in the first place)—

Husk brings up the hospital’s leash, in that hallway, and Alastor goes apeshit. He’s never acted like that towards Husk before, ever. He was expecting an argument, maybe some yelling, not a fucking partial transformation. Alastor is even more unstable and out of his right mind than he looks, and that’s more terrifying than any threat he could ever have made in that moment.

Mimzy brought loan sharks to the hotel’s doorstep, and Alastor gets to let off steam. This, at least, hasn’t changed, and it reassures Husk that he can still be helped. Since Mimzy’s antics threatened the safety of the hotel, which by extension is Alastor’s safety, he needs her gone. She can’t be here. He wishes he could explain everything to her, but the others are right over there, watching, and they can’t know.

During Welcome to Heaven, Alastor is completely alone in the hotel. No one is making sure he’s okay. What do you think he was doing?

When Alastor hears that Charlie is in her room alone, he sees an opportunity. He goes up there, talks to her for a bit, and walks back down with a guaranteed future favor from her. Just in case they ever come to drag him back, and his posturing as her father figure doesn’t work, he now has assurance that Charlie will not let them take him. He just has to state that as her favor, and that’s that.

Rosie is suspicious of Alastor’s actions early in the day—specifically, when he turns down an opportune deal—but decides to not say anything in front of the Princess. If Alastor needs some softer treatment for a change, she’s not going to do it in front of an outsider, regardless of status.

Niffty has finally figured out that something is very wrong, and she acts accordingly. She knows Alastor trusts her more than Husk, so she starts spending more time with him. She declares him King Roach (nothing can kill him, nothing can keep him down, he can get through anything and find a way to thrive), places a crown of needles and cockroaches on his head, and starts laughing when he says he wishes he could understand her “twisted little mind”.

He laughs with her. This laugh is less genuine than she remembers, and much more uncomfortable. Sir must be so scared, she thinks. Niffty wishes she could do more to help, but that’s a mess no amount of scrubbing will fix, and she knows it.

Alastor tries to fight Adam. He’s only vaguely aware of what he’s doing and saying, at this point. Everything is a distant blur. His microphone snaps, something sets his entire body on fire, and he doesn’t know what’s happening.

He races to the last place he remembers feeling safe—the radio tower. He sings to himself about how it smells, what he feels, and reminds himself of what happened. This place reeks of death, there’s a chill in the air, and he barely escaped being killed by a hair.

There, in the radio tower, something snaps in him, and he has a panic attack.

Only after the hotel is rebuilt has he gathered himself enough to pretend again. “And we’re doing it with a smile,” Alastor says, and he means it.

He’s going to pretend, and he’s going to do it with a smile. It ensures that he’s the one in control, after all!

@eggcats your thoughts??? I know this isn’t radiostatic (or is it??) but I’d love to poke around in your head.

[miscfandomwrites]

A/N: This is from about two years ago, from my old account. I know this was requested by someone yet I don't have anything saved for a name besides 'anon' so. There's not much to this but figured I'd post it anyways.

Pairing: Avengers x Widow! Reader

Warnings: Flashbacks, food based and major trust issues, reader self-isolates from everyone, everyone is kinda mean, natasha and yelena nearly kill half the avengers, language, angst, fluff(ish) ending

Words: 1.4k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

Summary: Reader escaped the red room with more than just physical scars. At Fury’s request she joined the Avengers for ‘Rehabilitation’ back into society, which led to an awful prank played on her that caused her to lose all trust with them. She hasn’t met Natasha or Yelena yet as they’ve been away on a deep undercover mission..but once they return and learn what has been going on with the reader and the team, and what it’s making the reader relive through, all hell breaks loose.

~~ “It’s a cinnamon poptart, not the blueberry one, I swear by it.” Thor told me as I held the shiny silver package in my hands, debating on whether or not to open it. I was reminded back to last week, when Clint tried the same thing on me. I glanced back up at the god-and he was giving me the puppy dog eyes.

There was a history of the avengers giving me the wrong food. It started out as a joke that made me physically sick enough to the point where I couldn’t eat for almost a week because of it and turned into a joke for them. Well, it wasn’t a joke for me.

I sighed, glancing at the generic wrapper which didn’t tell me shit about what flavour it was. Looked back at Thor and his puppy dog eyes and decided that maybe it was worth a try.

Of course, when I tear open the package it’s the blueberry one. I stared at it for a good minute or so as Sam and Bucky started losing it at my deadpan facial expression, and I just dropped the poptart on the table and turned on my heel and walked away, trying not to remember what happened and blocking out my brain from trying to kill me again.

Steady walking turned into a fast-paced stride, which turned into a jog, then into a full on sprint. I had no idea where the hell I was going, I was too far into my head to tell beyond me descending the back staircase down several flights of stairs. I kept going down,

Down,

Down,

Until I hit a wall, and realized I was at the very bottom of the tower. I didn’t even know that there even was a bottom to the tower until now…and knowing already that it had almost two dozen floors, and the kitchen was almost at the direct top…

I must’ve ran down at least ten or maybe even fifteen flights…

My head was still spinning as I leaned against the wall, the sweat from my body making my clothes stick to me and my legs started to shake slightly. Being a supersoldier had its benefits when it came to fights and physical activity, but even then it had its limits.

My breathing came hard and fast, and I closed my eyes tightly as I turned around, pressing my back against the cold, solidness of the concrete wall and slid down until I could rest my arms on my knees and sucked in one breath, held it for seven seconds, then slowly breathed out through my mouth for ten. I kept repeating the pattern, six, seven, ten, until everything stopped spinning and I felt less light headed.

~

I don’t know how long I was down there, and only took my head off my arms to answer my phone’s consistent buzzing, alerting me to a call. I slid it from my pocking, wincing at the slight protest of my muscles and the phone screen that was still slightly slick from my sweat. I wiped it off on my pant leg and answered it, not bothering to check the contact info.

“Agent (L/N), please do inform me why you are not present at the meeting right now.” a deep voice which I recognized as Fury’s sounded through the speaker. Shit. Meeting. That must mean…

It was six in the evening-I’d left the kitchen around two-

I have been down here for four hours.

I quickly scrambled up, heading to the elevators and pushed the up button as I told Fury I’d be there in less then ten minutes and ended the call. The elevator shot up to my floor as I sniffed my shirt, smelling the sweat and slight mustyness of the basement on it. My body smelled physically fine, but my clothes reeked. Still need deodorant however.

Once on my floor I quickly threw off my clothes as I rushed into my room, grabbing some of the first clothes I saw and changing into them then heading to the bathroom to look semi-presentable. While sure, it probably wasn’t necessary for me to ‘freshen up’ I didn’t want any comments about my appearance or smell, better yet I didn’t want any mention of me and didn’t know why Fury was bothering me to join the avengers since I wasn’t a ‘main’ member.

I finished getting presentable and glanced at what I was wearing, a pair of grey faded jeans that I tucked a black tshirt into and had pulled on my olive green converse, and right before I left my bedroom I grabbed my green button up jacket and slid it on, hoping it’d pair better with the shoes. Thankfully I left my bow gloves on the small bookcase next to the elevator and decided to get those on a whim as I rushed into the elevator and told FRIDAY to take me to the meeting floor.

I pulled my hair up into a slightly messy bun and called it good, soothing any wrinkles and tucking in my shirt more and just fidgeting with my clothes in general.

The avengers, or at least the ones who I’ve seen since I started living in the tower-Thor, Sam, Bucky, Tony, Steve, Bruce, Peter, and a few others whose names I didn’t bother to remember, I did not trust at all. And that was putting it lightly. Ever since the incident when I first started living here-which was not my choice mind you, Fury told me to live here so here I am-I tried my best in avoiding them at all costs. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck one on one with any one of them…especially the males.

Natasha and her sister, Yelena, have been on a almost eight month mission and I haven’t met them yet, but there was one thing the three of us had in common: The red room.

Memories I’d rather not remember were thankfully interrupted by FRIDAY chiming at me and opening the door of the elevator, and I walked out into the conference / meeting room.

~

“Look what the cat dragged in, finally.” Tony stated as I walked to the meeting table, taking a seat at the end of it. I glanced around noticing two new faces-females, and from the red and yellow hair I guess Natasha and Yelena.

“Took you long enough.” Steve glared at me as I tried to remain indifferent.

I did notice both Yelena and Natasha stiffen when they saw me, and even more so when they saw my slight reaction to their comments. I didn’t bother introducing myself, figuring they probably damn remember who I was.

Of course, I had a different nickname in the room, but those days were long gone.

Fury nodded at me and explained what the two had dug up from their reconnaissance mission, explaining how there was a series of various drug cartels that had access to a substance that not only was highly illegal, but magical in nature.

I turned out during the last half of it, upon hearing Sam and Bucky having their heads together and snickering, occasionally glancing my way. At some point I heard whispers of what would happen if they caught me alone, and at that point I was done-black creeped on the edge of my vision as I rolled the chair back and I remembered that I hadn’t eaten in awhile. Suddenly a loud slam echoed through the room, caused by Natasha slamming her hand on the table, standing up.

“Will you two shut the fuck up before I decide to kill you?”

I stared in shock as she glared at Sam and Bucky, Yelena also standing with her, glaring and had a knife palmed in her hand already.

“You have no fucking idea what it was like for her, for us going through that room and all you’ve been doing is making her fucking miserable. I’ve been getting reports on what you two’ She turned and glanced around the entire team at this ‘on what everyone has been doing to her. You’re lucky I was too deep into the mission or I would’ve come here sooner.” She turned to Fury and he nodded at her, and then spoke up.

“Natasha and Yelena will be taking care of the black listed missions from now on, and they will be taking care of miss (L/N) as well. Upon their wishes, they are no longer a part of this team.”

Both the girls turned to me, Yelena sliding her knife away and Natasha holding out a hand to me.

“Come on, Серебряная Лиса, we’ve got you.”

We’ve got you.

(Silver fox)

[honeesucker]

Three -

Pairing: ProHero!DynaMight | Katsuki Bakugo x Puppygirl!Reader

Word count: 4,670

Series Content Warnings: Little bit of a slow start... Graphic Depictions of Past Abuse & Trauma Response | Profuse Usage of Pet Names / All-around Softness | Bakugo Experienced Work-Related Trauma (causing near deafness, being put on leave from the agency, PTSD) | Eventual smut™ (will be tagged in individual chapters - to include but not limited to KiriBaku, HybridxHybrid, Hybrid heat trope, sex toy usage).

*Not proofread.

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Bakugo watched as the Director turned to see where he was motioning toward, watching as your form disappears down the hallway until you and the staff member turned a final corner at the end, completely leaving view. She stood silent for a moment, worrying Bakugo as her eyes were trained on the now empty hallway. Her silence stretched on and made Bakugo’s skin itch, until she turned to him with such a thoughtful look it stunned him.  

“The puppy hybrid?” She questioned him, and he confirmed with a nod.

“Yes,” he stated simply, “she’s fond of Red Riot and his hybrid TetsuTetsu and I enjoyed her company during the event tonight – though I didn’t catch her name,” and as he trailed off the Director’s mouth quirked up in a slight smile.

“She doesn’t have one she has ever cared to share,” she mused. “Mostly she just accepts when people call her ‘Puppy’ or whatever else, honestly.” The sigh the Director let go at whatever thought was in her head left Bakugo curious, but he wanted to tread carefully. “I’m not opposed to this idea; she did just get sent back to us about six months ago which has been easy enough to navigate though she has gotten returned to us a total of seven times in the last five years since her initial rescue,” Bakugo waited for the Director to go on, watching with bated breath as she seemed to gather her thoughts. “She is well-mannered and easy to handle but she has been through some tremendously heinous things before her rescue five years ago, and it appears something happens in the homes she's adopted into where a precipice gets reached that cause the adopters to return her... we’ve been trying to uncover more of what may be causing this issue but haven’t been successful,” the Director’s voice trailed off into a whisper as she mouthed something to herself, Bakugo not able to pick up on the words. Her eyes seemed far away as she put her hand to her chin, massaging the skin thoughtfully before continuing. “I agree her being around TetsuTetsu would be a positive to have in a new home as they became quite close while he was here with her, she also did take a liking to Red Riot, and she seems to have gotten comfortable around you quickly. Yes, I wouldn’t be opposed to this at all but given her background you’re going to need to be more prepared – I would like for you to meet with her rehabilitation counselor, Hana, to go over her background and ensure you’re ready to take on this responsibility. I won’t tell you no, Mr. Bakugo, but I want you to have the full picture beyond this day so you can make an informed decision for yourself – and of course per our policy the hybrid will have the final say.”

Bakugo only nodded along to the Director’s speech, agreeing to meet with your counselor, he wanted to know more about you and be the best he could be for you. His thoughts were at war with himself wondering if what he would learn would somehow change his mind in taking you on, and the competitive drive to be your last home – to not fold like the weak extras before him who returned you.  

Fucking cowards.

Bakugo was led by the Director to a different wing of the facility where he was going to have an initial meeting with Hana - your rehabilitation counselor - to discuss your past, habits, temperament and his prospective adoption of you. He waited on a small, uncomfortable chair outside of Hana's office as she had an existing appointment already. Five minutes turned to ten, turned to twenty before Bakugo's leg ceased to bounce with the opening of the office door.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Bakugo,” Hana was a stout woman in her mid-thirties, Bakugo assessed, with shoulder-length mousy brown hair and equally kind brown eyes. Her smile crinkled her eyes, and puffed her cheeks in an endearing way that reminded him of how some grandmothers were drawn in his favorite manga's – always smiling, radiating kindness. He was instantly put at ease.

“No problem,” he responded, his tone of voice always coming off slightly confrontational no matter how he tried to soften it, “I appreciate you seeing me on short notice.”  

“Please come in,” Hana motioned for Bakugo to enter, and he did. Her office was brightly lit by the large windows taking up a full wall, with a view of one of the many expansive and breathtaking gardens that seemed to surround the facility itself, like the one he spent time with you in the center. Bakugo was motioned to a seat, and he gladly fell into the plush chair across from Hana, who had a thick file on her desk with your photo pinned to it. “So, I understand you’re interested in our little Puppy,” Hana began, staring Bakugo down but in the least confrontational way.

“Yes,” Bakugo cleared his throat, words almost getting stuck with his nerves. “I’ve been able to spend some time with her, and I have regular contact with Red Riot and TetsuTetsu who she’s friends with – I feel like the benefits outweigh anything else...” Bakugo’s voice trailed off as she noted Hana thumbing through your file, red eye straining to see whatever was in there he could before he realized it was being presented to him. He took it, admiring the adorable photo of you on the front of the folder, before he thumbed it open and was stopped in his tracks.

Bakugo could hear Hana speaking but his ears flooded with white noise, her voice sounded faraway as he eyed the photos that appeared to be dated from your initial rescue.

So many of the photos documented your face and body, sunken cheeks, deep, dark circles and matted hair, blood dried and flaking on your skin and in your hair and fur. Tail matted and bloodied, nothing like the plush little cloud that followed you now. He thumbed through more photos as the bruises and lacerations across your body worsened, evidence of your malnutrition and abuse painted on your body and in your eyes.

Your eyes.

They looked so empty, so far away, compared to the glistening little jewels he could get lost in now. The way the light shimmered from within you through them, compared to the photos he was looking at, astounded him. A small scribble in red ink, in the margin of your first physical check-up stopped his heart.

Bait hybrid.

He could see the wounds across your body transform to fit the picture now the closer he examined them. How so many of them showcased the outline of different sized jaws, deep-set wounds from teeth that tore into you. Bruises that bled out into the shape of hands. In a few of the photos you had bruises consistent with being bound by the wrists and ankles, even a close-up of a deep burn around your throat where a rope would have once been. He read over the extensive notes, one of which being a transcription from a recording:

2:03 A.M. Entered the suspect villa through the front and rear entrances, encountered hostile human guards as well as trained fighting hybrids – all wolves – taken down alive and handed over to the OPS Team.

2:07 A.M. Descended into the basement area and found a hybrid chained to a wall with a rope tightly pulled around the neck. Appears to be a puppy hybrid, unmoving, possibly deceased?

2:09 A.M. Confirmed puppy hybrid alive. Signs of serious abuse, suspect bait hybrid within a larger hybrid fighting ring, released the puppy hybrid from the bindings, examined and took photos for records.  

2:13 A.M. Puppy hybrid attacked one of the OPS Team, confirmed attempted head touch, possible sensitive area as demeanor has changed once the area is avoided.

2:34 A.M. Have confirmed residence cleared of all human and hybrid residents. All humans detained by OPS Team for arrest and conviction, all aggressive wolf hybrids detained by OPS Team for evaluation by hybrid specialists to assess for rehabilitation. Puppy hybrid sent with the Musutafu Rehabilitation Rep for assessment and consideration for foster program.

Bakugo had continued to read through your file, through the different times you were adopted and sent back – your interviews upon re-arrival regarding what happened in the homes was a topic you avoided speaking on. There were notes that you always ended up biting someone in the household but would never delve into the details of what triggered the event. Bakugo read in the interviews with the adopters that the incidents all happened when they would go to pet you, they had mentioned being able to have physical contact with you before, so they weren’t sure what had changed when it came to petting your head.

When Bakugo finally shut the file, he found Hana’s kind eyes regarding him carefully. He swallowed hard, the lump of anxiety lodged in his throat after seeing and reading the details of your past, it was all weighing heavily on him. You didn’t act like someone should after having gone through so much. He’s surprised even in your earlier interviews with Hana no notes were made mentioning any anger – why weren’t you raging at everything those bastards did to you? It almost appeared like you simply accepted it.  

Accepted that life was filled with things like that.

“As you can see, Mr. Bakugo, our little puppy has been run through quite the gamut,” Hana started, accepting the file back from Bakugo’s shaking hand. “Her temperament is quite agreeable given the circumstances, but she does have habits that have caused issues in her previous homes,” Hana paused to regard Bakugo some more and continued. “Given what I have read regarding your situation and the needs for your foster pair based off what the Director has observed I agree with her assessment that you would be a good fit for our puppy – even more so with your ties to two others who would greatly help her transition back into a home. I would only ask that you give me weekly updates on her progress as she encounters new things in your home, that she still meets with me on a monthly basis until it is decided it is no longer needed, and I would appreciate you setting up some visits with Red Riot for her to spend time with TetsuTetsu – those two were thick as thieves when they were both homed here.”

Bakugo only nodded along, agreeing to any and every caveat needed to move the process forward with you. For someone so independent, so brash and unforgiving of himself and others, who prided himself on only needing to rely on himself, his instincts when it came to you were screaming at him to protect you. To show you a life beyond the scope of what you’ve been subjected to. To be the last home you would ever have, ever need, ever want. Something about your looks initially caught his eye – how precious, and tiny, you looked curled up in Kirishima’s arms, how easily he could imagine holding you the very same way. Something in him was inexplicably pulling him to you, and he only hoped you enjoyed talking with him enough to consider coming home with him.

Bakugo left the facility with high hopes, but an equally heavy heart.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Three weeks had passed. Three long, insufferable weeks but Bakugo busied himself with all the required classes on hybrid rehabilitation and ownership; he even went to all his own therapies and treatments without so much as a grumble. Today was one of the days he was returning to the hybrid center to see you, under the guise of attending the center’s bi-annual adoption introduction event as a Pro Hero endorsement liaison – an event where the community members interested in adopting a hybrid can come and meet those up for adoption in a friendly and open environment, not unlike a picnic or  field day.

He was dressed up in his hero gear, gauntlets heavy against his chest as he stood with his arms crossed. He was already briefed by the center Director, who stated that while you weren’t officially up for adoption at this time you would be attending the event in the interest of giving him more time with you in an informal setting, and as a test of your social abilities with strangers. Presently, Bakugo had been here since the first hour of the event set-up. He has seen a variety of citizens and Pro Heros alike come through and spend time alongside the adoptable hybrids, eating, chatting, playing games and listening to different informative chats with the staff as they set up spread out around the park on the center grounds they currently set up on. He hadn’t yet caught a glimpse of you but there’s no certainty you were brought down with the rest of the adoptable hybrids first thing this morning. The day was about halfway through as he waited impatiently, Bakugo assessed by the Sun’s position, red eyes scanning the area around him cautiously – he didn’t anticipate any trouble but given that the Director asked him to be here on an official capacity first, he knew there had to be a reason.

Bakugo began to walk around, his arms now at his sides, though still buzzing with ready energy. His demeanor relaxed, although you couldn’t tell from his features with his mouth set in a hard line and his eyes narrowed and sharp. He took in the sight of happy hybrids interacting with people unafraid of what the interaction would bring, could see how their eyes sparkled and crinkled with laughter as they ran around. His heart was filling up with such a light feeling seeing how happy everyone was to interact, and his hopes only lifted at the thought of at least one of the hybrids here finding a good match, and forever home. He wondered how it felt for them, to still have such hope and trust in others after what they each had gone through. He was staring fondly at some hybrids and humans playing a game of hacky sack when the back of his neck prickled with an odd feeling. His eyes darted around swiftly, taking in everyone as he tried to identify the cause of this uneasy feeling, his damaged hearing causing everything that he was once zoned in on to become muffled white noise – the high-pitched ringing becoming worse as the panic rose in his chest. The edges of Bakugo’s vision blurred as he tried to take in steady gulps of air, spinning around to see more of the area around him. That’s when he caught it – caught sight of you.  

Or rather, you while stood in an uncomfortable lean away from a man who deemed it appropriate to hover so closely over you. Bakugo’s blood boiled as his palms popped and sizzled, his quirk threatening to activate, but he simply clenched his fists and stalked over to where you were, and for such a large and imposing man Bakugo certainly didn’t lack stealth as he quietly approached you both.

“You really are something special, a delectable little cutie,” this absolute piece of trash extra had the nerve to learn in and smell the hair on your head. “You know you're exactly what I’ve been looking for! The shelters and breeders in my area just don’t have any cute female hybrid companions,” the whiney tone of the off-putting man caused Bakugo’s anger to flare but he wanted to see where this was going and where you’d take it before he made a move he’d regret. “Society has moved into acceptance of human-hybrid relationships, but they just don’t offer any that are cute enough to fuc-! Aughgk!” Bakugo’s hand wrapped around the man and cut off his sentence with a gurgled choke the same moment you had turned on the man and sunk your canines into his forearm. The man’s hands came up to scramble and tried to pull Bakugo’s grip off his throat but to no avail, his arm where your teeth were still buried wiggled weakly to get you to let go.  

“Release, Puppy,” Bakugo’s voice wasn’t harsh as it was directed toward you, but his tone left no room for disobedience and you let go, flattening yourself against the nearest tree to where you were stood. “Y’know, it’s people like you that make things harder for hybrids, scum like you make things unsafe for those who’ve already been through enough,” Bakugo’s anger was boiling to the surface, but it wasn’t a moment after he tightened his grip on the guys throat that security for the event came and gently touched the Pro’s shoulder, stating they would handle it from there. Bakugo relented only when he saw you still standing frozen in place, hiding against the tree a few feet away from the scene. Bakugo gave the pathetic man one last toothy, evil grin which caused the man to cower before he turned to you, kneeling on one knee to not look so imposing in all his Pro gear.  

“Hey Puppy,” to anyone who knew Bakugo, they wouldn’t recognize the man who softened just as he did. Kneeled in front of you with a breeze-soft tone, cooing and holding his hand out for you to take; even when he rescued women and children he was as hard as ever, a regular criticism he was met with from the tabloids, and his own agency.  “You were ready to fight, huh pup?” Bakugo’s voice held a humorous lilt, and your ears perked toward him as your eyes finally met his. “You did a real good job there, Puppy, didn’t need my help at all huh?” Your ears twitched like they wanted to flatten against your head, given your crestfallen expression, but they didn’t budge – cute little fluffy triangles Bakugo desperately found himself wanting to reach for if he didn’t already know your past triggers.

“M’sorry,” you mumbled out, slowly taking the hand Bakugo still had extended and when his fingers closed around yours, he pulled you gently to him. “I didn’t mean to bite,” your voice was small, and you began to shake in his arms, and he only pulled you closer, tucking your head beneath his chin and wrapping his arms tightly around you until the shaking subsided.  

“It’s okay Puppy,” Bakugo assured you, “it’s okay to bite someone when they’re trying to hurt you. Standing up for yourself is okay.” Bakugo could feel you relax completely in his arms as he finally looked around him, seeing the Director, Hana and a couple other staff standing back from the two of you by about ten feet.

“I was told not to bite though,” you mumbled again, sighing as you rested your head against Bakugo’s arms.

“Listen to me Puppy,” Bakugo argued, “biting someone is okay when you have a reason – like defending yourself or someone else.”

“Have a reason...” you murmured more to yourself, but Bakugo caught it, just giving you a reassuring pat on your shoulder before standing with you in his arms, your nose nuzzling against the column of Bakugo’s throat sending an involuntary shiver down his spine as the cold touch ignited something within him.

“Mr. Bakugo, can you and our little Puppy come with me? The police who arrested the man want statements,” The Director spoke softly as she watched you, remaining silent as she lead you both back into the building.

“You up for that, Puppy?” Bakugo watched as you gave a small nod, still nosing at his throat and taking in small, rapid breaths. “What’cha doing there, hm?” Bakugo raised his eyebrows as he heard you whisper, ‘smell different’, and just continued with whatever it was you were doing rubbing against him, and he had to admit a certain comfort came from your cold nose against his warm skin. No more than an hour had passed with you and Bakugo giving your individual statements, he was waiting on a lounge sofa situated in one of the common rooms while you were in a closed office with the officers. Bakugo’s anxiety was back in full force with his leg bouncing a mile a minute, his heart beating furiously against his chest wall and his palms were sweaty and ready to set off, the acrid smell of blackened sugar giving hint to the quirk activation. Bakugo hadn’t realized he was disassociating until he felt a light pressure on his lap. His eyes refocused and brought him back to reality when he noticed you were sitting on his lap, straddling his legs as you laid your body against his, your arms wrapped tightly around him as far as you could go. “What’cha doin’, Puppy?” Bakugo grumbled, heart still hammering in his chest.

“TetsuTetsu used to hug me tight tight tight when I would have a bad dream,” you stated simply, “and you smelled like you needed to be hugged tight tight tight, too.” You just laid your head against his chest over his heart and Bakugo soon found his heartrate slowing down, even though he was certain you were too light to apply what he knew to be deep pressure therapy, his cheeks burned with a cherry tinge and his heart swelled at the sight. Though you lacked enough weight to successfully do what you were trying to do, your proximity to him calmed him all the same.

“S’good, Puppy,” Bakugo mumbled out softly and you beamed up at him as you tilted your head against his chest to meet his gaze, your fluffy tail thumping away happily behind you. “Did such a good job f’me.” Without thinking Bakugo had reached up of his own accord, and rough palm went soft against the silky top of your head, ears splitting away where his hand patted the crown of your head.

Snap!

A soft, almost indiscernible sound was heard, but even Bakugo picked it up as he zeroed in on you in his lap. Your body had frozen in its place, you weren’t even breathing as he took in the sight of you.  

A small, broken rubber band was lying on the lounge sofa just beside you both, your breathing going from zero to a hundred as you began to take in panicked gulps of air. Bakugo looked up and saw one of your ears, normally cute little sharp triangles above your head, but now one was lying flopped against your head, folded over although he could see irritation and fur loss where the rubber band had been, presumably for a very long time. You went to scramble out of his lap, but Bakugo grabbed you and anchored you down against him, you were panicking and even tried to bite his forearms where you could reach but your little fangs couldn’t penetrate his Pro Hero costume, the gear made for battle and hits much stronger than your little bite force quotient*.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorryI’msorrym’sorrysorry,” your eyes were glazed over, far-away and deep in a memory as you shook in his arms, fighting to get out of his grip with an admirable strength even though it didn’t compare to the little force he was exerting to keep you in place. Bakugo could see the Director and Hana, who had still been standing nearby dealing with the police officers from earlier, frozen and watching the scene, Hana was stopped by the Director before she had a chance to intervene – the Director watched on with an intent gaze. Bakugo held you with one arm, holding you against him as he used his other hand to reach up and head toward the ear still standing up tall – you snapped and bit onto the guard that usually seated itself beneath his gauntlets, fangs trying hard to tear flesh enough to get him to release you, you shook your head gently but it didn’t do much to stop Bakugo as he touched your other ear and soon heard a similar snap with the small plastic ring, now broken, falling to the floor. You were growling now, not releasing his wrist guard as you glared at him, but he could see it in your eyes: fear.

“Puppy,” Bakugo warned, tone deep and steady. “Release.” You gave an indignant snort through your nose, the gentle puff of air hitting Bakugo’s face as he held you in front of him, a quirk to the corner of his lips giving away his amusement at your fight. His eyes soon narrowed, sharp and deadly, and soon you found yourself slowly unlocking your jaw as he pulled his arm away from you. With all the fight drained out of you at his command, Bakugo watched as your eyes began to well up with tears, which clumped your lashes and fell down your cheeks in fat streaks, your nose moistening as you sniffled and relaxed against the iron grip still holding you in place against him. Bakugo released his grip on you, and you just fell forward against him, sniffling and letting the tears fall unhindered. Bakugo’s arms wrapped around you loosely as he brought both his hands up around the back of your head, fingers normally clenched in fists or pointed at villains and firing off deadly explosions now gently rubbing the soft fur of your ears as he got a closer look at what irritation he caught sight of earlier and what he saw made his stomach turn. “Why did you have rubber bands on your ears, Pup?” His tone was so marshmallow-y soft it melted away what remained of your fight or flight and left you just feeling surrounded in the best of ways. Made you feel like you hadn’t felt quite enough before...  

Safe.

“They said floppy ears were for filthy, cheap mutts, and they had spent too much money on me,” your voice got small as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, tiny fang drawing a pinprick of blood. “They sent me to go get them cropped because Master would pull my ears too hard whenever he saw them, but I didn’t wanna go-” a choked sob cut off your sentence, but you drew in a breath as Bakugo carded his fingers through your hair, occasionally reaching back up to gently rub your ears between his fingers. “I didn’t wanna go again because the first time they put me to sleep I woke up hurting so bad, so instead I went to the market and took rubber bands from the flower bouquets and wrapped my ears with bandages to look like I went... the other hybrids who got their ears cropped were in so much pain I didn’t wanna be in any more pain, I’m sorry I bit you I didn’t mean to I-” your rambling cut off as Bakugo pulled you tightly against his chest, face smushed against hard muscle as he just applied all-over pressure and soon you found yourself relaxing in his lap.

“Nothing about you is filthy, or cheap, or wrong.” Bakugo stated simply.

You didn’t anticipate the reaction you had when you heard those words, but the second they left the blonde’s mouth you were sobbing against his chest, fisting his hero costume and shaking as he simply let you sit with all you were feeling. Bakugo had continued to look up and check in with the Director and Hana; Hana, who Bakugo noted, was recording the pair with her phone – probably for records and research purposes. Bakugo didn’t mind one bit if it helped you in the end to be understood more. The Director was watching the whole scene unfold, taken back by the days' events already and hardly expecting what came of it – but she knew it more certainly than she did the weeks before when Bakugo first mentioned his interest in you.

You two were meant for each other.

*Bite force quotient (BFQ) is a numerical value commonly used to represent the bite force of an animal, while also taking factors like the animal's size into account.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

Rusty | Chapter 10 | S.R

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Chapter Summary - Luke has a heart to heart with Emily. Spencer takes you on a little trip where you both come to an understanding before he takes a serious step on the road to his recovery.

Pairing - Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - strangers to friends to lovers | angst | smut minors DNI

Warnings - mentions of sexual assault and use the term “rape”, tears, dissociation, blood, self harm, making out, swearing, detailed therapy, medication. WC - 6.6k

Chapter 10 - Back in the Saddle Again

“Tell me everything you know.” Luke spoke in hushed tones into his cell phone as he hid over the back of the San Antonio Police Department.

Over the swell of people coming and going, phones ringing off their hooks and keyboards clacking, he heard Phil sigh.

“I don’t really know much at all, Alvez.” Phil’s tone was laced with his frustration. “She stole a car in New York after her escape, it was found abandoned down your neck of the woods, just outside of Richmond. But from there…man I don’t know. I can only assume she must have gotten her hands on another vehicle but there weren’t any reported stolen within a fifty mile radius. 

“If she’s smart she would have headed for Mexico. But if she did that’ll make finding her that much harder. We know she had money after her first escape, we found the empty safe at mom’s house. She must have known I was close when I apprehended her and stashed it somewhere, so we have to assume she has it again. There have been no sightings of her for the last few days and you know as well as I do that without sightings, there’s nothing I can do.” 

“I wish I could help.” Luke pushed the fingers of his free hand against his temple. “But with the whole network thing we’re swamped. Not to mention we’re short on the ground. I want to be kept in the loop though. If you hear anything…”

“Of course, of course.” Phil agreed. “Knowing how she operates she’s probably worked her magic on some poor, unexpected sap who’s taken pity on her. Her face is plastered everywhere up and down the country. Someone has to recognise her.” 

“If she’s in some small Mexican town, hell if she’s in some small American town, those kinds of things don’t reach everyone.” Luke continued kneading his temple aggressively. “I hate this, I hate feeling so powerless.” 

“We’ll get her Alvez. It might not be today or tomorrow, hell it might not even be this year. But we will get her.” Phil sounded determined and it was one of the things Luke admired most about his old partner.

Even after all he’d been through with Daniel Cullen, even after his rehabilitation had almost destroyed his spirit entirely, he was one determined son of a bitch. 

“Keep me posted.” Luke replied before hanging up the phone.

He turned away from the corner wall he’d been staring at, ready to rejoin the team but a set of hauntingly intense dark eyes full of irritation were staring back at him.

She had her arms folded over her chest, her greying hair tied back into a ponytail which made her features appear more stern.

“So it’s true, you are working your own cases?” Emily clucked, tilting her head at him.

“Does Garcia ever keep her mouth shut?” Luke scoffed. “It’s just an old case from back in my FTF days, I’m sorry.” 

Emily softened slightly, dropping her arms to her sides with a huffed out breath. She quipped her head to the left.

“Walk with me.” She said before she was already leaving.

Luke quickly followed, falling into step with her. He walked with her until they reached the doors of the precinct. She shoved it open and the two stepped outside into the blistering, humid Texan heat. 

She stopped on the pavement a few feet away from the door and once again folded her arms across her chest. 

“Is this affecting your ability to be an effective member of this team?” She asked him outright.

“No.” He shook his head, jaw set. “Just some unfinished business is all.” 

“She got under your skin?” She narrowed her eyes on him, profiling him. 

“They all do.” Luke’s jaw tensed. “But yeah, I supposed she did more than most. She had everyone falling at her feet, treating her with kid gloves. Everyone seemed to forget the fact she murdered a guy. We got close to her, I’m sure we did, right before I got the call from Hotch to help out the BAU. 

“We got a tip that she’d been seen in this tiny little town of Magnolia Springs, Alabama. A guy reported he’d seen a person matching her description coming and going from his neighbours house. Someone musta tipped her off because when we arrived she was gone and the woman whose house she was supposedly staying in wasn’t talking. 

“I felt her, Emily, she was close, so close. But she slipped out of my reach. And then I joined the BAU and I wasn’t able to be there when Phil finally caught up to her. I wanted to be the one to arrest her, I don’t know why. She got to me and I have no idea why, but the thought of her escaping again is eating me up inside. And now we’re here, in Texas of all places and I…I just…” He trailed off, a lump forming in his throat. 

He coughed to try and dislodge it, rubbed his hand up and down his neck. Emily once again let her arms fall from their folded position and her shoulders slumped a little. 

“We’re right on his doorstep. Practically in his backyard.” She smiled despondently. 

She didn’t need to say his name, saying his name in fact might make matters worse. But she knew Luke understood who she meant. In truth, as soon as she’d gotten the call to come out here she had thought of Spencer. And if she was thinking about him, Luke most definitely was. 

“Yeah,” he croaked. “I wish it wasn’t still this…hard, you know? Two years and I still feel like it was yesterday you were telling us he left.” 

“You never got closure.” Emily shrugged, sucking in a breath. “It’s hard to move on without it. It's like a book with its end pages missing. You just keep flicking through it and hoping they will appear. There was no end for you and him, not a fleshed out one anyway. One day it was and the next it simply wasn’t.” 

“I know the rest of the team didn’t see his medical reports from Milburn but as Unit Chief, I imagine you had to?” He straightened his back. 

They’d never talked about it, there was no reason to. It wouldn’t have undone what Spencer had to endure and so they just didn’t talk about it. Maybe it was to protect Spencer’s autonomy, or maybe it was to protect themselves from it. 

Emily closed her eyes for a few seconds and nodded her head stiffly.

“Yeah, I had to read them. Unfortunately it’s part of the job. Why did you read them?” 

“He wouldn’t talk to me.” Luke shook his head. “He wouldn’t talk to me and I knew I was missing something. I had to know. Although I wish I didn’t.” 

“Palatal petechiae, indicative of forced oral sex.” Emily’s eyes welled with unshed tears as she said it out loud. “It’s a form of rape.”

Luke visibly crumbled as she spoke the word, the one word he’d tried to keep out of his head for all these years. 

But that’s what it was. Spencer had been raped, probably repeatedly. And Luke had turned his back on him. 

He slumped against the wall to keep himself balanced, the weight of Emily’s words crashing into him and forcing all the air from his lungs. 

His head was pounding. He felt his stomach turn violently. 

“I broke up with him. He was struggling through an immense amount of trauma, a trauma I knew he suffered and I still broke up with him. What kind of a person does that?” His voice cracked. 

“He didn’t want your help, Luke. He didn’t want anyone’s help. You know Reid as well as I do, probably better, and you know he was never going to admit what happened to him. He’s too proud. He’s a protector, he’s spent his entire adult life in that role. He speaks for the people who can’t speak for themselves. But when something like that happens to him, he feels he has no one to speak for him.” 

“I would have.” Luke swallowed. “I would have done anything for him.” 

“I’m sure deep down he knows that.” Emily took a step closer and gripped Luke’s shoulder tightly. He needed grounding. “But he is one of the most stubborn people I have ever met and if he thinks he can get through this on his own, that’s what he’ll do. We need to let him figure this out however he sees fit.” 

“I thought he’d come back.” A tear escaped his eye and he was quick to bat it away. “I thought he’d take some time but that he’d come back. I deluded myself into thinking that one day he’d just show up and we could pick up where we left off. I still love him, Em. I still love him with every goddamn beat of my heart.”

Emily’s fingers coiled into his shoulder blade, kneading his tense muscle in her hand. 

“We’re really short on the ground and this case is a matter of urgency.” She spoke but Luke’s eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “But once we’re wrapped up here, whenever that might be, I think you owe yourself a vacation day. Bandera is only forty something miles from here. And I hear it’s lovely this time of year.” 

Luke’s lip quivered in understanding and he melted into her touch.

“You’re sure?” 

“I mean you’ll have to clear it with Rossi as he’s your Unit Chief but I can’t foresee it being an issue. And if I remember rightly, it’s Reid’s birthday soon, Garcia is already working on overnighting a bunch of gifts out here. It would be good if someone could give them to him.” She smiled sadly, letting go of his shoulder and taking a step backwards. 

Luke closed his eyes briefly to stem any more tears, nodding his head in thanks at his old boss and feeling a swell of emotion in that moment. 

Emily was surprised to say the least when Luke suddenly engulfed her in a tight embrace. Her arms hovered at her sides for a few seconds, while she comprehended what was happening. 

In all the years she’d know Luke Alvez, she didn’t think he’d ever hugged her before. 

When he started shaking against her, sobbing into her shoulder, she wrapped him in her arms, and held him. 

She gave him a few minutes, allowed him a brief window in which he could let himself feel the weight of everything he’d been bottling up for two years. 

Emily Prentiss was the FBI Section Chief, but that was the secondary facet of her personality. Above all else, Emily was a friend. And a damn good one at that. 

***

You heard him coming before you saw him, noting his gait was faster than you’d grown accustomed to. He didn’t sound as though he was limping too much this morning, at least he was starting to heal.

You had your back to him and kept it that way, hoping if you didn’t engage him he may well leave you alone. 

But you had no such luck.

“What the hell are you doing?” The irritation in his voice was ripe. 

You swallowed thickly before tugging lightly on Rusty’s rein to turn her about to face him. You commanded the flaxen mare to trot closer to where Spencer stood glaring at you on the other side of the enclosure. 

“I mean, I think it’s pretty clear what I’m doing.” You huffed as you got closer. “I'm riding my horse.” 

“You’ve had two lessons. Do you know how dangerous it is to ride without supervision?” He spat, unlocking the gate and stepping inside the fenced area. “Get down.” 

“No.” You scoffed. “I’m fine. You said it yourself, I’m a natural.” 

“For the love of god, you are going to be the death of me.” He shook his head, rubbing his brow beneath his stetson. 

“I’ll feed you to Rusty when that happens.” You smirked sarcastically. 

“We need to talk.” He exhaled, not at all sounding like that was something he wanted to do.

“I’m good.” You shook your head. 

“It wasn’t a question. We need to talk.” He glanced around the area and only really registered for the first time all four of the horses were grazing in the field. “Why are my horses out here?”

“So I could clean the stable.” You shrugged, patting Rusty’s neck. “I refilled their troughs, got them fresh water. Even cleaned out the cattle barn.” 

Spencer’s brows pinched as he looked up at you. 

“It’s eight am, how long have you been up?” 

“Never went to sleep.” You shrugged again. 

The look you gave him told him it was his fault you hadn’t slept. In truth he hadn’t either. 

He came around from his dissociation still on his bathroom floor as though he hadn’t moved but clearly at some point he must have because he had the razor in his hands. 

He was bleeding from a self-inflicted wound on his stomach, just left of his belly button. Once again he’d patched himself up with the use of butterfly stitches and stuck a large gauze pad over the wound.

After that he couldn’t sleep, just sat up staring at the wall thinking about where his life went so drastically wrong. 

Three times now he’d dissociated in startlingly quick succession. Three times he’d come to with unintentional cuts on his body. He was starting to scare himself if truth be told. Perhaps he needed to consider seeking out his old therapist and getting a higher dosage of his medication.

“Can we…take a ride or something?” He spoke again, voice cracking. 

“Should you be riding?” You frowned at him. 

“My leg is feeling something akin to normal again. It's the least pain I’ve been in anyway. The doctor told me I could ride again when I felt ready. And there’s somewhere I’d like to show you.” 

“Fine,” you huffed out a breath so he knew you weren’t thrilled by the idea. 

“Super, just let me grab Willow’s saddle. Oh, could you maybe help get Frank and Wilbur back to the stable?” He asked with a cocked eyebrow.

“You’re taking Willow?” Your brows furrowed.

“Yeah?” He returned your expression.

“And I’m taking Rusty.” 

“Again, yeah?” 

“Have you forgotten that they hate each other?” You glared at him.

“It’s a long trek to where I want to take you and Willow is the only one strong enough and determined enough to make it there and back. Frank or Wilbur would not be able to handle it.” He shrugged.

“Can Rusty handle it?” You looked down at the mare between your legs who was eyeing Spencer warily. 

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.” He chuckled, but there was a nervousness to his tone.

Soon though he was meandering over towards Wilbur, ready to take him back down to the stable. And without another word you turned Rusty around again and went about helping him.

***

Medina Lake wasn’t just a trek away as Spencer had put it. It was located nearly twenty miles south of Bandera, on the other side of Lakehills. It was a crescent shaped reservoir on the Medina River, eighteen miles wide at its broadest point and contained by the Medina Dam at the lakes south end. 

Spencer told you all about it as you rode together, giving Willow and Rusty enough space so as they wouldn’t cause another incident like the one that had broken Spencer’s arm. 

Apparently at the time of its construction, it was the largest concrete dam in the country, and fourth largest in the world. He told you that the dam was listed on the National Register of Historic Places. 

As you barely spoke in reply, Spencer continued. He went on to tell you that Medina Lake had been stocked with species of fish intended to improve the reservoir for recreational fishing. He listed largemouth bass, white bass, hybrid striped bass, catfish and carp among the species found in the lake.

But he didn’t stop there. 

He continued to fill the dead air between you by telling you about the state of the lake. According to Spencer as part of the 2010 to 2013 Southern United States drought, the lake water levels dropped below five percent capacity. As a result he told you many cracks, oil drums and a Jeep are visible due to the low water level. 

He continued with telling you that thanks to some showers in the summer of 2013 the lake levels had risen to five point two percent. But many businesses had been closed, many residents left and Lakehills had been somewhat of a ghost town ever since. 

He still carried on, despite your obvious lack of interest. Going on to tell you with an almost excited flurry, that due to heavy rainfall in the region, as of May 2015 the levels rose to forty six percent. And again due to more heavy rain, by May 2016 the lake was at one hundred percent capacity. He went to continue but by this point you held up a silencing hand. 

“I can’t, Spencer. Please? Please just stop talking for five minutes?” 

He’d huffed but yet he didn’t speak again for the rest of the journey. 

He took you all the way down to Bandera County Medina Lake Park. He paid the twenty dollar fee for you both to enter. He led you and Rusty down to a quiet alcove away from the flood of tourists. 

He found some hitching posts where you tied up your steeds, keeping enough distance between them so they couldn’t bother one another. 

Spencer couldn’t deny that his thigh was causing him aggravation by this point and his knee ached dully. You could tell by the grimace on his face that he was struggling but didn’t say anything. 

As much as you hated to admit it, the place was stunning. It combined the natural beauty of the Texas Hill Country with a picturesque watery wonderland. People in the distance were on the lake swimming, riding jet-skis and other boats. Some people on land had BBQ’s, picnics and the like. 

Spencer led you down towards the lakes edge, still ensuring to have a clear view of your two mares at the top of the bank. He found a secluded spot, away from other lake goers so the two of you could be alone. 

You took a seat on the ground, stretching your legs out in front of you and groaning a little at the chafing in your thighs from the long ride. The water was clear and the sun above caused it to sparkle. In this heat it looked positively intoxicating. 

Spencer removed his denim shirt, his black t-shirt underneath marked with sweat stains under the pits and around the collar. He lowered his stetson over his eyes to keep the sun out of them. 

Neither of you spoke for some time. Far off you could hear the sounds of other people splashing in the lake, laughing and having fun. Behind you could make out Rusty snuffling around in the grass. 

If you focused in front of you, you could easily believe that you and Spencer were the only two people in the world. Perhaps that was why he brought you here in the first place. 

After long stretches of uncomfortable silence, Spencer huffed from beside you and forced himself to speak. 

“We need to talk about last night.” He saw your back straighten at his words but you didn’t even so much as look at him. “I promise you, it had nothing to do with you. I don’t even have the words to describe what it was like for me getting to be with you like that, getting to make you feel like that. But, uh, after I…completed, my thoughts went into overdrive and I panicked. 

“I don’t know how to explain it other than that I’m not well. Mentally I am extremely sick. I told you last night that I need to test my boundaries, and I guess I pushed them a little farther than I was ready for. I really am sorry, Y/N. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt you.” 

The sincerity in his voice caused you to turn your head to the side and look at him. His eyes were full of uncertainty, fear and mild terror. You could see he had a heavy weight upon him and that talking about this wasn’t easy for him.

“Am I just some kind of experiment to you, Spencer? I don’t mind helping you get over whatever it is that happened to you, but if all I am to you is a test subject, please let me know before I get in over my head here.” You hated how sorry for yourself you sounded.

“You are so much more to me than that.” He frowned, shocked you would even suggest that. “But I suppose in a way, this is experimental to me. I have no idea how I’m going to react to any given situation of intimacy until I’m right in the middle of it. But please believe me when I say I would not be able to have even considered this kind of relationship with anyone else. Because of you, I’ve managed to actually maintain an erection long enough to orgasm, twice. That hasn’t happened to me in nearly four years.” His cheeks flushed in candour. 

“If it offers you any kind of comfort, last night was the first time I’ve been with a man in almost two years. And it’s the first time I have ever come by someone else's hand other than my own.” Your own cheeks reddened at your confession.

“Oh,” Spencer’s voice shot up several octaves. “Oh.” 

“To be perfectly honest with you Spencer, had the opportunity presented itself, I would have jumped you that first night we met. And I can’t pretend that I don’t want more out of this, but I am not going to push you if you’re not ready. I think if we are going to continue whatever this is, we just have to take things slowly. Like at a snail's pace.” You tucked your hair behind your ears, feeling perspiration gathering on your brow. 

“Agreed,” he nodded. “I do want to move past this. I want to be able to give you every part of myself. It's just going to take some time.” He smiled meekly. 

“I got nothing but time.” You smiled back. 

Spencer chuckled a little, shuffling closer to you in the dirt. You felt your breath hitch as he got nearer. 

“Would kissing you be entirely out of the question right now?” He rolled his lip between his teeth in his scepticism. 

“Not entirely out of the question, no.” You shook your head. 

The easiest thing to do would be to put space between you and Spencer, draw a line in the sand and remain strictly as friends. But you never did make a habit of travelling the path of least resistance. 

He leaned closer, removing his stetson and dropping it down next to him. And then his hand moved to cup your cheek, fingers brushing lightly across your skin. He pressed his lips to yours cautiously at first but within a second or two he got carried away.

His tongue brushed along your bottom lip and you opened your mouth for him to gain entrance. His hand weaved into your hair, fingers burying in your locks. You kissed him back with as much passion as he showed you. 

You brought your own hands to his face, holding him close. With his grip in your hair he tugged you a little, trying to convey that he needed you nearer. 

Keeping your lips attached you shuffled so you were straddling him, knees resting either side of his thighs. The fingers peeking out from his cast brushed along your back, under the hem of your shirt. You moved your own hands to his shoulders to keep yourself balanced. 

It wasn’t long before you lowered yourself into his lap and your hips undulated against his crotch. He moaned into your mouth and gripped your hair tighter as you felt a stirring in his pants. 

He started moving backwards, bringing you with him until you were laying on top of him. But when your full weight was flush against him, he suddenly pulled away from your lips and growled in pain. 

“What’s wrong?” You panted, sitting back a little as his face contorted. 

“Fuck,” he groaned. “I’m sorry…I did something dumb.” 

Frowning, you rolled off of him and knelt next to him while he cautiously rolled up the hem of his t-shirt to reveal the large band aid across the left side of his stomach. 

“You dissociated again?” You whimpered. 

“Yeah.” He nodded, rolling his shirt back down and sitting up. “And please don’t blame yourself. None of this is your fault.” 

“I noticed last night you had a bandage on your thigh. Was that…?”

“Self-inflicted? Yes.” He rubbed one eye. “I’ve never hurt myself like that outside of those dissociative states. My brain is extremely fucked in many, many ways but I am not suicidal or anything like that.”

“Do you ever remember anything from those states?” You found yourself asking. 

“It’s hazy.” He sighed. “And I’m not sure what’s real and what isn’t. I can recall messy pieces sometimes, but it’s not clear. It’s like I’m watching myself, like an out of body experience. I’m completely disconnected from my own mind, my own body. Its fucking terrifying. And I don’t know how to stop it.” 

“You said you’d been to therapy before?” You asked softly.

“Twice.” He nodded. “Once back in DC, and once again when I moved here. Before you say anything, I am aware I need to go back. I guess I at least get to tell her the good news that my dick seems to be working again. Now we’ve just gotta focus on stopping me from having a panic attack, crying or dissociating after I come.” 

You glared at him and the candid nature in which he spoke. His lip quirked at the corner and then surprisingly he started to laugh. You just stared at him dumbfounded.

“You’ve got to laugh, it’s so absurd.” He chuckled, probably the most you’d heard him laugh before. “I’m a fucking basket case, it’s okay to laugh. If I don’t laugh I’ll…”

“Dissociate?” You quipped back. 

“Exactly.” He laughed harder, amused tears pricking the corners of his eyes. “Oh god I’m a mess.” 

His laugh was infectious and you found yourself joining in despite yourself. It really wasn’t at all funny but sometimes you had to laugh in the face of extreme adversity or you would crumble. 

The two of you sat by the lakes edge laughing until you were crying, crying until you couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t until the laughter subsided that you realised Spencer was holding your hand. 

It grew quiet again and he simply stared at you, clutching your hand in his own. You reached forward tentatively with your other hand, waiting for his okay in the form of a nod before you touched him. 

You gently wiped his tears from his cheeks and he hummed at your feather light caress. For a few minutes you stayed like this until you were ripped apart by the sound of content neighing from behind you. 

You sprung apart as though burned and you both looked up towards your horses who had managed to manoeuvre themselves closer together. 

It was hard to say who was more surprised by the sight of Willow amicably nuzzling her face against Rusty’s.  

“Are they…?” 

“Making friends.” Spencer nodded with a smile. 

“Well I’ll be damned.” You smiled too.

“That horse of yours has some kind of magic about her.” Spencer sighed wistfully, leaning closer to you again. “Just like you.” 

And when he kissed you again, you were certain that it was him and not you who was magic. 

***

Doctor Camilla Ortega was a local therapist who specialised in anxiety, depression, trauma and PTSD. Her practice was in Pipe Creek but she had clinic hours out of the Essential Mental Wellness centre right in Bandera town once a week. 

Spencer didn’t know if he was fortunate or not that she happened to be able to fit him in the very next day. 

It had been some year and a half since he last sat in her office and was overcome with anxiety just being here. He ran his fingers over his cast, back and forth, back and forth, trying to remain tethered long enough to be able to speak.

She was probably less than ten years Spencer’s senior, with sharp green eyes and a discerning stare. She had a resting bitch face if Spencer had ever seen one, but she was surprisingly soft spoken and had a contrasting calmness about her. 

“It’s good to see you again, Spencer. Although I can only assume the reason you’ve come to see me again means that you’re not doing so well?” She narrowed her eyes on him.

“Not exactly, no.” He admitted. 

He didn’t want to open up about this but he also didn’t want to have to be visiting her every week. The quicker he got this out, the less time he might have to spend on her couch. 

“I met someone.” He blurted out, eyes trained just above her head so he didn’t have to look at her. “I met someone and she’s incredible but I can’t…I still can’t take that next step.” 

Doctor Ortega was silent for a beat or two, mulling over his words briefly. 

“Have you initiated any form of intimacy thus far?” She jumped right in. 

“I, uh, I still can’t let her touch me and we haven’t had intercourse. But we kissed and, uh, I touched her. And I have gotten…erect. Twice. And uh, I also reached completion twice.” His cheeks and neck flushed red. God how he hated talking about this. 

“Without penile stimulation?” 

His face scrunched up and he nodded reluctantly. 

“And how did you feel after?” She prodded. 

“Well, uh, the first time I ran away and locked myself in the bathroom. The second time I ran away and locked myself in the bathroom, cried and vomited and then dissociated.” He forced the words out rapidly. “Typical stuff.” 

Ortega sucked in a breath and he heard her scrawling some notes down. 

“You hadn’t had a dissociative break in a while last time I saw you, isn’t that correct?” 

“Yes. But I’ve had three as of late.” He spoke but then continued. “It’s not her fault. I just…I can’t allow myself to enjoy being aroused without hearing their voices.” 

He didn’t need to divulge anymore than that, she knew who he meant. 

“Does she know what you suffered in prison? Have you spoken to her about it?” Doctor Ortega asked gently.

“No,” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I can’t tell her. She wouldn’t look at me the same.”

“How do you think she would look at you if she knew?” 

Spencer’s eyes flit to the doctor, his brows pinched together tightly. 

“Like I’m broken.” He said as though it was obvious. “Like I’m dirty.” 

Doctor Ortega put her pen down and laced her fingers together, sitting further forward in her chair. 

“Spencer, that is not how other people look at you. That is how you view yourself. Unfortunately it is a common sentiment in rape survivors to feel this way, like they are of no good to anyone, unworthy of affection. I think you would be surprised how she would react if you were just honest with her.” Doctor Ortega’s eyes were piercing into him. 

“I’m not telling her and that is the end of it.” He shook his head. “I just want to know how to move past this. It’s been nearly four years and I don’t feel any closer to getting over what happened to me now than I did then.” 

“Spencer, that’s not true.” She offered him a soft smile. “Eighteen months ago when I last saw you, you couldn’t even go on a date with someone. But now you’ve not only met someone but you have opened yourself up to intimacy again, even if it isn’t going as you planned. I for one am proud of how far you’ve come, I think you should be too.” 

“Proud?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I should be proud that I can’t come without being so overwhelmed with guilt that my brain has to divorce itself just to cope? I should be proud that I managed to bring her to orgasm before I had a complete mental breakdown which ended in me cutting myself? I should be goddamn proud that I can’t have sex with a wonderful, beautiful woman because I am so utterly broken that I can stop hearing the voices, seeing the faces of my rapists? Proud? Are you fucking kidding me!” He was on his feet, he didn’t remember standing up. 

The rage bubble was expanding, filling, moving higher up to his chest. His vision blurred and he wobbled on his feet. 

Here we fucking go, was his last coherent thought before the world around him became shrouded in darkness.

***

He blinked several times, sitting up with a start. His heart was racing and his breathing was heavy. He glanced around the nondescript room through hazy eyes, trying to work out where he was.

He detected movement in the corner of his vision, a body edging closer until they were right in front of him, dropping to a crouch so their eyelines could meet. Doctor Ortega smiled sadly at Spencer as she held his gaze. 

“Are you okay?” She spoke softly and then something was being placed in his hand. 

He looked down to see the plastic cup of water he now held and quickly tossed it back.

“How long was I out?” He croaked despite the hydration.

“Only about ten minutes.” She pushed herself to stand but came and sat next to him on the couch. “Do you remember anything?” 

“No.” He shook his head. 

“You wanted to hurt yourself. You asked me several times to give you something sharp.” Ortega’s voice was a little strained. Spencer shook his head. “And you were yelling that you weren’t whole.” 

“Makes sense.” He grumbled. “I found a note you had me write myself, for my guided self talk.” And then he spoke verbatim. “I was sexually assaulted, but I am not a victim. I was coerced but I am not weak. I am in control of my own body, of my own mind. I will not let them win, I will not let them ruin my life. I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I am a good person. I am a strong person. I will move past this. I won't let them break me. I am still worthy of love and affection. I am still whole. I am still whole.”

“But you don’t believe a word of it.” She stated.

“No.” He agreed. “How the fuck can I still be whole when they took such a large piece of me?” 

He looked at her pleadingly as though she had all the answers. As if there was one thing she could say which would be the key to his recovery. Of course there was no such thing and he knew that. But he needed something, anything. 

“They only took from you what you let them take. What those men did to you was traumatic but you are the one in control of your own reactions to that trauma. You have let them take up this space in your brain for the last four years and every time you let them win, they grow and grow. The only way you are ever going to get over what happened to you is by persevering and I know that’s not the answer you’re looking for, but it's the truth. 

“I know you don’t see it but you have taken huge strides since the last time I saw you. You may keep experiencing this guilt during intimate moments but it will not last forever. I think you need to continue doing what you’re doing, putting yourself in scary situations and seeing how you react to them. Next time your experience will probably be much the same, and no doubt the time after that too. 

“But eventually, and I can promise you this, eventually you will be able to push yourself further without repercussions. You will find one day you are able to give yourself over completely to this woman and what happened to you will be the furthest thing from your mind. The reason you are still struggling so much after all this time is because you couldn’t put yourself back out there. And although this seems terrifying, I can assure it is the first step towards healing. And I’m proud of you whether you like it or not.” 

Spencer was crying by the time she finished speaking and he was nodding his head slowly in understanding. Perhaps she was right, perhaps now he was allowing himself to get close to someone he would eventually be able to move past this. 

It might get a hell of a lot harder before it gets any better, but if he didn’t keep pushing through he would be at square one forever. Like anything in life worth having, it was going to be difficult, but for the first time he believed it might actually be possible. 

“Th-thank you.” He sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I think I needed to hear that.” 

“I do believe you can get better, Spencer and I don’t think you need my help to do that. I’ve given you all the tools, you have to be willing to put in the work now.” She pushed herself up and made her way across to her desk. “That being said, I would like to up your dosage of paroxetine just a little. And I want you to make a concerted effort to remember your grounding exercises when you feel a dissociative episode coming on.” 

“I’ll try.” He nodded in agreement. 

A few minutes later he was leaving with a new prescription, sore eyes and a new perspective on his situation. 

He found you in the driver’s seat of your car, thumbing through a book he recognised from his own collection. You closed it when the door opened and smiled softly at him. 

“How did it go?” You asked as he slid into the passenger’s seat. 

Spencer didn’t reply. He was too exhausted to speak. Instead he leaned across the central console and smashed his lips against yours. You gasped in surprise and he edged his tongue into your mouth. 

The kiss only lasted a minute or so but it was more charged than any kiss you’d ever shared before. When he pulled back, you were looking at him in shock.

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” You chuckled a little. 

“A thank you, I guess.” He shrugged. “It might not seem like it but I am making progress. And I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Your eyes welled at his sentiment and without thinking about it you reached over and grabbed his hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

And it wasn’t lost on either of you that for the first time, he didn’t flinch at your unexpected touch. 

@kalulakunundrum @voledart @katrina0-0 @bakugouswh0r3 @prettyboyandthefangirl @zooni92802 @marvellover1819 @babyspiderling

[clinicalmastery]

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[pjisskullourful]

𝘕𝘌𝘞 𝘈𝘕𝘎𝘓𝘌

📐 Damiano × reader

NSFW 🔥 sexy smutty explicit adult bonding time

° Damiano David/female reader insert

° you & your boyfriend are adjusting to life since you sustained a spinal cord injury, finding how to stay connected [based early 2021]

wordcount:: 8,469

° commissioned by the bloody wonder that is jace 💋 (@punk-gremlin) thankyou for your trust, your honesty [commissions get to be my prioritea, secure the next one here!]

° [ITA:] amore: love - principessa: princess

You couldn’t get comfortable, you couldn’t relax. You were finally in bed, the location you had been thinking about literally all day. During your intensive physical therapy session, imagining this bed and being in it with your boyfriend had been the only thing to keep you sane. It was the light at the end of the tunnel.

But it wasn’t a simple reward, as it had been in your mind. In the aftermath of your freak car accident, nothing really was simple anymore.

In the weeks since being discharged from the rehabilitation centre, you had been faced with a life full of adjustments. The spinal cord injury dictated that you come at almost everything from a new angle. It was your reality, but your perspective had changed.

You were affected from your belly button down. There was slight movement in your legs and so this was the area that your physical therapy sessions focused on. The goal was to get you walking again.

And your legs felt this effort long after the session’s conclusion. The muscles were so sore, painkillers had only taken the edge off of the hurting. It always felt like it took so much to recover from the exertion of a session, keeping you from fully relaxing and thinking about anything else.

Your boyfriend was trying to help with this. Damiano was adjusting, almost as much as you were. His typical schedule had been disrupted and moved around so radically as he endeavoured to be by your side as often as possible (which was easier now that you were out of hospital, no longer kept apart by the rigid restrictions that the pandemic had made necessary).

He wanted to hear, and find a solution for, your every complaint. Right now that meant massaging your legs, using the methods he had been taught to relieve the spasming you were plagued by. It wasn’t the same as when he used to give you massages, he wasn’t as sure of himself. He was still learning the spots where you felt far too much, as opposed to the areas where you felt nothing at all.

He kept pausing, he would ease his hands off and look up at you, checking the look on your face. And you would smile and nod your head each time, because it was helping. It was gradual but you could feel the tension fading out.

“That’s great.” You encouraged when the uncertainty interrupted him again, little lines of worry appearing. “Could you keep going?”

“Of course, I just didn’t want to…”

You had heard the end of this sentence enough times in the past six months to know what he was thinking. You reached your hand out to rest on top of his. “I know. But you won’t break me, I promise that’s not gonna happen. It helps when you touch me, it really, really helps.”

This earned you a smile from him, some of the concern leaving his expression. He turned his wrist so that he could hold your hand. Then he began leaning closer to you and you saw him becoming more sure of himself. The way he was looking at you set you into reminiscing, reminding you of the days before you were injured.

He kissed you, soft at first and instantly followed by a pause where he lingered, mouths close but not touching as he attempted to assess your mood from your current demeanour. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you showed him by pushing your lips against his, with far less restraint than him.

He responded as you craved, his lips beginning to work with yours. He placed his other hand to your cheek, enticing you in closer. As both of his lips caressed your bottom lip, you found yourself noticing the discomfort in your legs far less.

You tilted your head, following him into this deeper kiss. It was so indulgent and you enjoyed having this as your primary focus. You didn’t have to think through your next moves, it all came so naturally. You wrapped an arm around the back of his neck, needing him to stay this close.

When he dragged his tongue along the line where your lips met, you allowed your mouth to open. As his tongue ventured into your mouth, his fingers stroked so tenderly across your cheek. This prompted a heat to come into your body, so decadent. Your thoughts travelled away from your legs, going to different locations of your body.

He drew his tongue along the roof of your mouth before gently parting from the kiss. You were pleased when he didn’t put any substantial distance between the two of you. You kept your eyes shut, finding the peaceful simplicity in listening to him catch his breath.

“I know what you meant when you said that thing about me touching you being helpful. But, you know me, my brain took that to a dirty place.” He said with a little chuckle.

You were smiling as you opened your eyes. “Oh yeah, do you wanna give me more details about this dirty place?”

“It wasn’t anything especially clever, you could probably already guess it for yourself…” He said, and you watched as his uncertainties came creeping back in. He lowered his eyes from your face, so different from the man who used to proudly share with you every innuendo as soon as it came into his head.

Your accident had caused a drastic remodelling of your sex life. Most days you tried to avoid thinking about it because it had gotten much more complicated, and you sensed that he was following your lead.

You hadn’t successfully gone through with the act yet. There had been a handful of attempts since you had gotten home because you still desired him, a lot. But you hadn’t been able to translate cravings into truly enjoying.

The most common outcome was you becoming frustrated. The memories that got you so turned on, also haunted you. The reminder of how different everything was upset you. You would compare your current performance to the past, unable to make the thoughts stop until you were totally out of the moment, feeling so separate from him and wanting to cry.

On your first morning back at home, you had awoken to the feeling of his hard dick against you. He had told you to ignore it, writing it off as a case of morning wood. But you had kissed him and wiggled your way closer to him, replying that finally feeling his body in bed with you again had prompted some thoughts.

Using your hands, you had gotten him off. You had hardly kissed him during this because you had been so entranced by watching him, feeling the intimacy that way. It had felt like a very sexy triumph when you had seen that thick cum shooting out of his tip. Both of you had laughed when he joked about making this your home-cum-ing.

The atmosphere had been fast to change when he offered to return the favour. He had begun in the way he often did in the past - at your clitoris. It used to be the ideal spot to stimulate you from, but you hadn’t felt anything. His skilled fingers had failed to create any sensations in you.

He had kept trying, but as more time passed you had only moved further away from feeling aroused. It was an alienating experience, because you knew how it should feel. But there had been nothing.

He hadn’t gotten discouraged. He had been more than ready to explore and try different things, different paths to your orgasm. But the moment had been well and truly over for you, you were dejected, overwhelmed by how different everything had become.

He had backed off instantly, holding your hand and telling you how much he loved you. It had been a sour note to start your first full day back at home.

You felt like he had been holding back since then. You supposed his goal was to avoid pressuring you. It had been up to you to bring it up - you hated how uncomfortable everything around the topic of sex had become. But you thought things wouldn’t improve if you kept avoiding it.

You gave his hand a squeeze. “I wanna hear it, regardless.”

“I was gonna offer to see where else my touch could really help. Because you know how much I love to be helpful.” He said, a shy kind of smile pulling at one of his cheeks.

You didn’t hesitate to kiss him, seeing how his smile developed as a result. “I love that idea.” You tightened your arm around him, trying to get him to come closer. “Get over here.”

He didn’t immediately move. “But, your legs. I’m happy to keep massaging, if you need…”

“No, no, they’re definitely starting to calm down and the painkillers will take care of the rest.” You said. “I wanna feel that helpful touch somewhere else now.”

“Okay, princess.” He said, letting you fully distract him from this earlier task.

Now he put both of his hands to your cheeks, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned in again. You were pleased when this kiss was followed by another-and-another, the two of you falling into a heated rhythm. You held both of your arms around him, dedicating all of your energy to this embrace.

He tentatively started to lean his body weight into you and his tongue tasted at your lips some more. You moved your hand up to the back of his head, his floppy hair gliding between your fingers. You held him here, a silent request for more as your tongue extended to meet his.

You relocated one of your arms, wrapping it around his torso, just beneath his armpits. This was another attempt to bring him closer. His body was warming your skin, and inside you were heating up all the more, an exciting fire brought into you.

To keep from upsetting yourself with reminders of what was different - you centred all of the pleasure around him. You knew how to get him off in a way that would attract absolutely no attention to your new limitations.

And that was the path you planned to take. Your hope was to gain a contact high off of his orgasm. He never held back from expressing when he was enjoying himself, so you would be able to easily track the build up of his pleasure. You could get so wrapped up in his every reaction that you would be satisfied by seeing him reach the climax, not needing to try for your own. You couldn’t fail at something if you didn’t make an attempt.

You thought it was a good idea that you were eager to get properly started on. As you massaged your tongue against the roof of his mouth, he trailed his hand down your face, going to the side of your neck instead. Using just his fingertips, he rubbed up-and-down, prompting trembles through you as he successfully triggered some sensitivities.

You tightened your arm around him, rewarded with the feeling of his firm chest pressed on yours. Your bodies were starting to get so connected and the closeness brought a kind of clarity to your thoughts, keeping you present.

But you couldn’t help noticing the area where he was still separate from you. There was a greater proximity you could have been enjoying, but you sensed that he was holding back. All that you wanted to do was get lost in his lust and the fun that could be drawn from his body, like old times.

But it seemed more work was required to get him on the same page as you.

“You’re not close enough.” You said.

He paused and looked down, surveying the distance between the two of you, probably trying to plan his next move. “I’m not? I’m just trying not-...”

“Come sit in my lap, amore.” You invited. “Get properly close.” He didn’t make any immediate moves. “You can sit here, it’s not going to hurt me. Please, I can take the weight of your body, you know I can.”

He readjusted, but he kissed you before taking up a new position. This helped you to feel a little better, helped to keep you hoping that this encounter would reach the desired result.

You adopted a more serious expression before he could begin to straddle you. “Actually…” This succeeded in getting him to stop instantly. “I don’t know if you can…” He waited, his brow furrowing in concern. “Not while you’re still wearing so many clothes.”

He chuckled, quickly putting his hands down to the bottom of his shirt. “You had me fooled.”

You nodded, grinning. “Yep, I got you good.”

“Well what about you and all the clothes you’re still wearing?” He asked.

“Oh.” You looked down at the pyjamas you were dressed in, they were decorated with various Pokémon. It was hardly a seductive look, but you weren’t sure you knew how to do that anymore.

You could take the top off without issue, almost as fast as him. But the pants slowed you down, there was a lot more involved in the process. He helped you straight away.

Before he could start to take your underwear down, you redirected his attention by tugging on his sweatpants. He pushed them lower, and once they were around his thighs you grabbed for his underwear. You aimed to keep your pussy covered, it would help keep things moving smoothly.

He got completely naked before you and your hands quickly got to exploring across his tattooed body, so many good ideas filling your brain. You put one of your hands up to his cheek, using this to draw him in so that you could resume kissing him. He moved into your embrace, his mouth opening instantly.

He gave you the improved position straight away, keeping his lips on yours as he began to straddle you. Your back was pushed to the padded headboard and you savoured all of the things this new closeness provided to you. Concentrating on the way his skin felt on yours kept you from following unhelpful trains of thought.

You pushed your tongue over his lower lip, gliding into his mouth. At the same time he brought his hand down, covering one of your breasts with it. His other arm went around your middle and you held him tight in your arms.

He sat on the tops of your thighs, his hips pressed to yours. Your heartbeat was picking up speed and you were taking note of all of his little reactions. You loved to be in this intense moment, just going with your instincts of what would feel good. With him you could be content, facing nothing that challenged your capabilities.

As you dragged your tongue back-and-forth along his row of teeth, his fingers savoured your bare breast. He traced the natural curve with a touch so light, the teasing was enough to bring a shiver from you. He drew a line across the surface, until he could get to the nipple, which was firm as it awaited his touch. He kept this light as his fingertips followed the ring of your areola. It was barely more than a whisper against your skin but you fixated so entirely on the motion. Your body was aching for more in a way that would truly threaten your patience - but it was the best kind of ache you had felt all day.

“Princess…” He purred, only adding to that need in you. “I love you.”

You licked your lips as you started to move your hands down his back. “I love you too.”

He gave your nipple a gentle squeeze between his thumb and index finger, his eyes sparkling as he watched for your reaction. He was steadily introducing tingles into your system. The good kind - the kind that were fun, like the larger scale of a fizzy drink’s bubbles filling your mouth. It helped you to feel different in your body.

He increased the pressure and more desire pooled in you. Your response was to get your hands down onto his ass, grabbing both cheeks. You used your hold to guide him forward, even closer to you. As you felt more of his body on yours, you identified what you had been hoping for: his erection.

He smiled before covering your mouth with more kisses. You didn’t let go of his ass, instead using this to encourage him to begin grinding on you. You couldn’t start the motion with your own hips, but luckily it didn’t take him much to figure out how you wanted things to progress.

He moved slowly, rocking himself forward then back and you loved to feel his body dragging against yours. You craved that feeling of being so close that you lost track of where he ended and you began.

He pulled on your nipple, then released it altogether. He transferred his fingers to your other nipple and you whined when he instantly gave this a firm pinch.

He kept rolling his hips into you, his rhythm felt so good and you could feel that he was properly dedicated to it. His faster and shallower breaths told you that he was feeling the promise.

And you wanted to get him further. Your hand went from his butt to the front of his body, roaming downward. He kept kissing you, only parting from your lips when you wrapped your fingers around his dick.

You assumed this was just to catch his breath as he continued to rock his hips. You started to stroke your hand up-and-down his length, it was already so hard in your hand. His eyelids fluttered but remained shut as you found a maintainable motion, treating his shaft with consistency.

Before you could find the right rhythm, he was interrupting you by grabbing at your wrist with both hands. His eyes had opened and now he was staring you down.

“Slow down a bit, alright?” He said gently, the movements of his hips now so slight that you hardly noticed them.

“Oh, okay.” You said, moving your hand away. “Sorry, I didn’t-”

“No, you don’t have to apologise.” He quickly told you. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t want you to get distracted by doing all of that.”

“I can use my mouth.” You offered.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I was thinking that we would concentrate on you.” He said.

You put your hands to his cheeks, pulling him closer because you wanted to distract him as quickly as possible. “But I have all of these ideas…” You kissed him firmly. “There’s so much I wanna do for you.” You dragged your fingernails down his back, trying to find the right way to recentre his lust. “Amore, you take such good care of me…” He kissed you back each time, but there was something about the look on his face. “It’s truly amazing, and I wanna give you a proper and filthy thank you.” You took the opportunity to kiss him more, maybe there was a secret quota you could reach. “Don’t you want that?”

He leaned back, looking at you with that serious expression on his face. “It’s not necessary, you have thanked me properly, plenty of times.”

“Well then I will say it more simply: I wanna get you off.” You told him.

This didn’t make him move back in. “And I feel the same way, but for you…”

You were trying to not worry, that would make it more difficult for you to find solutions. And maybe there was a chance that you could keep this going in the right direction. “Okay. You’re already hard, we should make use of that.”

“Or we could make use of that package that came when you were still in the hospital.” He said and you knew exactly what he was referring to.

You dropped your eyes, you could remember the sleepless night spent on the internet that had led to the purchase. Your mind had been far too active, an overwhelming mess. And taking action to buy something physical had helped you feel less ineffectual.

This was a very personal part of your recovery. You had been terrified of the embarrassment that would surely come from discussing it with any of your doctors. You hadn’t known how to bring it up to Damiano. The visiting hours at the hospital had been so limited, finding the right time to talk about it had felt impossible.

You had devoured articles posted online. You read about the experiences of similarly injured women. So many of them had enthusiastically recommended the same device, convincing you to buy it.

But you hadn’t taken the jack rabbit out of its box yet. After the unsuccessful attempts at having sex, you had been feeling like your pleasure was a fruitless chase. In your more defeated moments, you had felt ashamed of spending so much money on such a non-essential item.

“Do you remember what you said when you were letting me know it would arrive?” He asked, his voice so tender. “You said you would talk to me about it when you were ready, then you sent me a shit-ton of links of stuff for me to read, and you said we would talk about that later, too.”

“So have you just been waiting for me to bring it up, or something?” You asked, trying to keep any bitterness out of your voice.

“No. I have been waiting for the chance to tell you that I read all of them and I get it- well, as much as I can. I understand that sex is going to be really different for you, for us now.” He said, he subtly held one of his hands out to you, leaving the physical contact up to you. “And that doesn’t bother me. I am willing to try out as many new things as you want. I want to learn how to make you feel good, princess.”

You continued to avoid his eyes. “What if all our exploring leads to absolutely nothing?”

“Won’t you feel better for trying?” He asked.

“I don’t know.” The apprehension and doubts had you speaking at a lower volume than before.

You put your hand in his. “It seems like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Because I have. But I didn’t want to pressure you into a conversation you weren’t ready for. But sex kind of just came up tonight and those thoughts were waiting for me. I want to try, principessa.” He said, giving your hand a squeeze. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured to orgasm, like that’s the only thing I’m waiting for and I will be disappointed if it doesn’t happen.

“It’s not like that in my head, my goal is to make you feel good and feel close to you.” He said and you were gradually lifting your eyes back up to his face. “Even if we don’t find that magical thing that makes you come, and instead we just discover something that makes you feel really fuckin’ good- so happy, so warm inside, so floaty in your head. That would be as satisfying for me as you getting me off. And I only say that because I mean it.”

“I know.” You said. You leaned forward, sighing as you rested your head on his bare shoulder. “I’m just scared that this is going to be another thing that I can’t do all of a sudden, and then what does that mean for us, Damiano?”

He placed an arm around you, running his hand up-and-down your back. “It means that we adapt and try different things. There’s nothing wrong with different, it’s like people always say: variety is the spice of life. And you know how much I love cooking with spices.”

You gave a quick chuckle. “Yes, me and my tastebuds are very aware of that.”

He kissed you on the forehead. “Look, we don’t have to keep talking about this and if the mood has just gone, that’s alright. We…”

You sat up so you could look into his eyes, resting your palm on his chest. “The mood hasn’t gone. I want- of course I want you like that. Are you kidding, you’re so sexy and these days you have your hands on me like all of the time. But I’m just scared.”

“Nothing is gonna be too difficult for me to want to try.” He said. “We can go as slowly as you need to and we’ve got the safe word if you just need everything to stop.”

You had begun to nod your head, before making the conscious decision. “Can you please turn the light off? I think it will help me get out of my head and just concentrate on feeling.”

“Of course.” He said, but his next action was to put his hands up on your face. “Before I do that, I just want to have a good look at my gorgeous girlfriend.”

You relaxed a little, returning his smile as he moved in to kiss you. Feeling his lips on yours kept you from thinking up new concerns to dwell on. You weren’t totally confident but there was a definite lowering of your focus.

“I love you, principessa.” He told you, making you smile again.

“I love you too.” You said.

“I’ve got you. We’re in this together.” He said, a deep look into your eyes drove home how serious he was.

Then he moved, shifting his focus and mood at the same time. “Alright, before I turn the light off: do you want me to get the new toy, or should we save that for a different night?”

“It’s gotta be used sooner or later, right? How about you grab it?” You asked, hints of enthusiasm coming into your tone. “And the lube- can you get that, as well?”

“I was already planning on it.” He said with a wink.

He stood up and set about collecting these items. You began to slowly readjust, getting yourself to a more suitable position. You leaned your body weight back and gathered up handfuls of the sheet. You worked your way down, pushing with your ass and moving your legs the small amount they were willing to go.

You got yourself to the point where you could lay flat on your back, your head rested on your pillow. The effort made you a little short on breath, but you didn’t settle yet - you still had to get your panties off. You were tugging them off of your hips when he cast the room into shadows by switching the bedside lamp off.

His gentle voice accompanied the action of him sitting down on the mattress again. “Can I help?” He knew how stubborn you could get about wanting to complete a task without assistance (it was a trait you had before the accident).

But that wasn’t a behaviour you were about to indulge. “Yes, please.”

You hadn’t been able to get the garment any lower than your thighs because the material kept getting trapped between your body and the bed. Then you wouldn’t be able to properly move the part of your body causing this issue.

He could quickly manoeuvre your limbs as he needed, pulling the panties down then getting your feet free one by one.

Then he laid down, getting close enough that you could feel his body heat on you again. Your attention went to his fingers, rather than the toy. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, a prelude to his next kiss.

You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer as a flurry of kisses began. You kept up with him, wanting to show him just how much your lustful mood continued. He laid partially on top of you and you adored the compression, being so grounded beneath him. Feeling so much of his body on yours was shifting your perspective, encouraging you to shed even more of those doubts.

“How do you wanna start?” He asked. “Do you want my fingers, or the toy?”

You swallowed, pushing down any trepidation so that you could prioritise your trust of him. “Can we try the toy?”

“Of course, anything you want, principessa.” He said. His lips collided with yours before he shifted, only some of his body moving off of yours. “I was thinking that we would work up to the vibrations. Does that sound good?”

“Mm-hmm.” You nodded your head even though there was no guarantee of him seeing this, you were just a big shadow in the room.

You caught the sweet scent of artificial strawberry before you started to hear the sounds of lubricant being applied to the phallic toy. You kept both of your arms around him as you steadily caught your breath.

One of his hands had moved down, going in between where your legs were lying apart. You were much more aware of his other hand when it started to caress up-and-down your side. This coincided with how he leaned in closer again. You initiated the first kiss, which he quickly responded to, letting you feel more of his body and you secured your arms tighter around him.

“I love feeling this body under me, my gorgeous princess.” He said. “And having you home, back in this bed, in my arms- it’s the best thing.”

You smiled before returning your mouth to his, reciprocating his feelings this way. Your tongue teased at his lips as you pushed one of your hands into his hair, securing some strands between your fingers. His hand glided in another upward motion, this time going to your breast, cupping it.

You felt a keen heat spreading under your skin and you eased your tongue into his mouth. He rewarded this by setting his fingers onto your nipple again. Your whimper was muffled by his lips and you lost track of any restrictions in the dark, only feeling potential.

Your heart instantly picked up speed when you felt the tapered tip of the toy starting to press into you. You gripped his hair tighter as your chest expanded. He rolled your nipple under his thumb, giving you so much arousal to concentrate on.

“Is that alright?” He asked in a whisper.

“Mmn, feels good.” You said, taking notice of how much desire was pooling in your pussy - it was unignorable now.

You captured his lips with yours, letting your need to have consistent and full breaths slip way down on your list of priorities. He rushed to follow one kiss with another.

He gently began to pump the toy, holding its base steady as he worked it a little deeper each time. Your inner-walls easily parted to allow this action. As he kept going, beginning into an unhurried tempo, you noticed how the effects were reaching further through your body. You could feel a tightening at your core, the anticipation of more stimulation to come held you in a firm grip.

You pushed your chest flush to his, savouring every part of his body that you could feel. The way that the blood was pumping so fast in your system was giving you a giddy rush. And he only encouraged this further, his fingers closing around your nipple for another pinch.

Wet sounds were accompanying every move he made with the toy, a perverted soundtrack to go with your soaring excitement. Your body was dominated by a radiating heat as he got the entire length of the sex toy pushed inside of you.

The rabbit-style vibrator had an external option, two silicone ‘ears’ that were intended to work on your clit. But he wasn’t about to repeat history. He was adapting to the fact that you had lost an incredible amount of sensation in the clitoris, instead keeping his focus to what could be achieved through penetration only.

You didn’t feel as if there was anything that you were missing out on - his consistent and deep strokes had you riding higher.

He adjusted his angle and you started to believe that perfect peak could be possible for you. He had driven the dildo’s rounded head directly into your g-spot, immediately adding so much fuel to the fire inside of you. So many sensitivities roared to life, almost overwhelming as they rushed you.

Your mouth left his as your head rolled back, gasping in a quick breath. Your heart was pounding as he kept the toy in motion, pulling it back then connecting with your g-spot repeatedly. He relocated his mouth down to your neck and you kept holding him so tight.

“Fuck.” The word struggled to get free from your throat.

“Is that still feeling good?” He asked, and the teasing in his voice made you smile. It told you that he wasn’t presently worrying about somehow breaking you. He was purely invested in your pleasure, and not held back by any uncertainties.

“Yes. But I would actually call it amazing.” You said. “So much better than just really good. God, so much better.”

“Amazing?” He repeated.

“Yes, amazing.” You said, vehemently nodding your head. “Please don’t stop.”

“Oh, I won’t, princess.” He said before you felt his lips crushing against yours - disappearing before you had any chance to respond. “I’m so happy that it’s feeling amazing already, that’s so fuckin’ great. It’s exactly what I wanted.” You relaxed your hand in his hair, switching to pushing your fingertips across his scalp. “But- and feel free to shut this train of thought down, I wonder if amazing could be improved upon, because I haven’t even turned this thing on yet. What would happen if I turned it on? Or maybe I shouldn’t do that at all…”

Your first reaction was to laugh and you simply let it out. Your elevated endorphins saw the noise coming out louder than what would be typical. You couldn’t help it, you genuinely didn’t know how you would cope with more. You were already being dazzled by more than you had hoped for. Could you be affected even deeper?

Your laughter died down as you realised that you wanted to find out. You were intrigued by the idea of trying the absolute most. You weren’t overwhelmed yet and you wanted to know what it took to get there.

“Do it. Turn it on.” You said, surprised by the steadiness you heard in your voice.

He paused, stilling the toy inside of you. “Are you… you really want to do that, princess? ‘Cause I won’t judge you if you decide not to, I was just playing around.”

You reached down, securing your fingers around his wrist so that you could keep him from backing off any further. You definitely weren’t ready to stop feeling the dildo inside of you. “I wanna. Let’s see if this is the magical thing that makes me come.”

“You can stop or change your mind and we’ll turn off the vibrations straight away. At any time.” He said with a new softness in his tone, no longer teasing.

You thought this switch may have come from you surprising him. Potentially you were going further than he had been expecting. You liked the idea that you had surprised him, it felt good to believe that was the case. It gave you a nice sense of power.

“I got it.” You affirmed.

He adjusted his hold on the toy and you were pleased that this didn’t lead to it slipping from its deep spot. His finger found the button and the vibrations commenced. You wanted to confirm with him that amazing could be improved on, but you were too overcome to form words.

The sensitivities that you had already been feeling were immediately magnified. The steady pulsations had your inner-walls clenching. You briefly lamented that you didn’t feel able to start pumping your hips - it would have been nice to put the excited energy filling you to use. You just felt how it ruled you, running wild through so much of your body.

You let out another laugh, shorter this time. But it was just as euphoric with you accepting that you had to surrender. There was no settling amongst all of this intensity. You didn’t know how you would be able to regain your control, but you were fine without it.

“Is that giving you some magic, principessa?” He asked, sounding like he already had the answer and he was happy with it.

“Fuck yes.” You said, holding onto him with one arm while you gripped the bedsheets with your other hand.

He began to move the toy, tapping into the motion that had earlier gotten such great results. Your cunt kept clenching, ensuring there wasn’t a single inch that didn’t feel the pulsing massage.

The next noise that you made was a very loud moan. There were no thoughts in your head as you accepted the way your system was being completely overloaded. It was pure ecstasy, seeming like it wouldn’t end.

“Ah, ah- amore.” The sob ripped its way free from deep in your chest as the edge daunted you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Everything seemed to be falling into place, poised and ready for your ruin. “I think I’m gun- ah!”

“Yes, yes, yes, let it go.” He coached, relentlessly working the toy into you. “Let it all go.”

The orgasm was so powerful that it felt like it launched you out of your body. You so quickly and so thoroughly transcended - your consciousness only knew pure pleasure.

You gasped for air as you steadily returned to your body. You found a profound relief radiating out from the very core of your being.

He had turned the vibrations off, no longer pumping it inside your cunt. Now his hands were still as he cradled you in his arms. He whispered your name, somehow making it sound like a great compliment.

Your mind was absolutely blown, leaving you still unable to fully believe how great you felt. It was too good to be true, more than you had dared to hope for.

“Oh my God.” You said, feeling more grateful than you had the words to express. You started to babble, words rushing out with no pause for consideration. “I didn’t think that- I didn’t- oh my God. That was crazy, so crazy and I had no idea it was gonna hap- yeah, I had read all that stuff online, but it’s just words ‘til it actually happens for you. And it did happen and it was so… I think that’s the best orgasm of my whole entire life. I would have been happy with even the smallest, but that was just so…

“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” You asked.

“It doesn’t matter, we did it, that’s the important thing.” He said, giving you an affectionate squeeze. “I’m so happy we tried.”

“You’re happy?” You repeated. “I’m happy, but like an insane level of happy.” He chuckled, just enjoying your giddy outburst. “I don’t think I’ve felt this happy since… I feel like myself. So much of that fear is just-... I feel like me- like I’m still me.”

He kissed you on the forehead. “‘Cause you are still yourself. You have been this whole time.” You readjusted yourself, tilting your head back so you could try to pick out the features of his face. “I never stopped seeing you. You have been getting through this like only you can.”

If not for the endorphins still keeping you so elevated, you may have found a way to make a self-deprecating joke out of his statement. But you felt no urge to disagree with him, not even in a joking fashion.

You moved your hands up to his cheeks. “Thank you. I didn’t know that I could still feel so good. Thank you. I love you, I-” You silenced yourself by kissing him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He responded, giving you another kiss.

“I’m so happy we did this.” You said, starting to twirl some of his hair around your finger. “Not just ‘cause I got off, I also just feel so close to you. I guess I had put a wall up around all of that.”

“Thank you for taking it down. I like being close to you.” He said.

“Do you wanna get closer?” You asked.

“I thought I already was… what do you mean?” He asked.

The first part of your response was to kiss him, sliding your tongue against his lips this time. “Get a condom and get on top of me, amore.”

He moved, an instant kind of perking up in his body without actually sitting up and going for the item. “Are you sure- really- do you- are you feeling up to that?”

“Uh-huh. My sexy, amazing boyfriend, I love feeling so connected to you and I wanna keep it going.” You said. “I don’t know if coming twice is actually a possibility for me- once was a fuckin’ miracle. But I wanna feel you, I just want you so much. And maybe I’ll regret it tomorrow when I’m exhausted at therapy, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.”

“I want you too.” He said, rushing to give you another kiss.

Then he was sitting up, seemingly having decided there wasn’t any more time to waste. You heard one of the bedside drawers sliding open and you reached between your legs, securing your fingers around the base of the inactive toy. You had stopped feeling any reactions to it and you extracted it without fanfare. You placed the wet object aside, as far as you could reach your arm out, knowing he would get it back to its rightful spot.

It wasn’t long before he was back to lying down with you, he slid an arm beneath your body, immediately pulling you into an embrace. He kissed you deeply and you felt him starting to ease his body on top of you.

“I love you.” You whispered, voicing the dominant thought in your head, it was uninhibited by any insecurities.

“I love you too.” He said. “And we can stop whenever. You won’t disappoint me if you change your mind, so don’t even worry about that, okay?”

“Okay.” You said.

You didn’t hesitate to kiss him more as he settled into his position on top of you. There was so much of his body pressed to yours and you savoured all of it, simultaneously craving more. You regretted time not spent like this.

Your tongue glided into his mouth as you ran your hands up-and-down his back. He started to writhe against you, gentle movements that told you he was doing some savouring of his own.

One of his hands moved between your bodies, making some adjustments below your waistline, which you couldn’t fully keep track of.

But you felt when he got to his goal, the head of his cock easing your pussy open. He gave you time to adjust to this beginning of penetration, rather than aiming for depth at once.

His hand remained around his shaft as he resumed his writhing on you. You enjoyed having him use your body to make himself feel good and you started to drag your fingernails along his back, wanting to give him even more sensations to drive him wild.

He settled into something of a rhythm and you could notice the purposeful pumping of his hips. You recognised this as the start of his energy, not yet giving you everything that he had. The gradual increase of movement led to him slipping further into your cunt, your sensitive walls noticing how his tip kept stroking deeper.

“Is that o-...?”

You immediately interrupted him. “It’s so good, don’t you dare stop.”

He chuckled a little. “I won’t. I’ve missed being inside of you, you just feel so incredible.”

You kissed him as the reactions within you got bigger again. Your cunt walls were already fluttering as more of your body was feeling the effects of this desire. Your heart raced and you locked into the anticipation of things only getting better from here.

A smoothness had come into his movements now, he knew what to do. You encouraged this by taking your hands down to his ass again, a cheek in each hand as you guided him into you again-and-again. The conclusions of his thrusts gained more strength, giving you the feeling of little quakes at your core.

You wanted to take the energy further. You tensed your back and took a stab at lifting your ass. It took a lot of effort but you got your hips pushed into his, granting you the reward of feeling his dick deeper. He whined when you broke the kiss, needing a deep breath as you attempted another pump of your hips.

Instead of you matching his established rhythm, he slowed himself down for you. As you thrusted with each other, you felt hints of friction coming from the meeting of your hips. You hoped that this was creating something more substantial for him because it was very limited for you, a sensation you seemingly couldn’t fully recapture. The main thing that you were feeling was a burning in your muscles, an insistence that this effort not go too far.

“I’m sorry, I can’t go any faster.” You said.

“Sorry, what are you talkin’ about? You don’t have to- I was having a great time before you started thrusting me back.” He said over the noise of your heavy panting. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it.”

You didn’t stop, not yet. “But then it’s just you doing all of the work.”

“Work?” He repeated.

“Yeah, it’s like guilt or something that I’m not doing enough.” You said.

“Oh, principessa…” He sighed and he pulled back from you a little, pausing any current motion. “I’m gonna need you to shut up, because you are talking complete nonsense right now.” You slumped back to the mattress, silent. “There’s no work, let me take care of you. You just being here with me is all I need.”

He kept his hips elevated but he leaned down to kiss you. “No guilt, I only want you feeling good things, okay?” You nodded your head. “Feel good with me.”

“Okay.” You said in the second before his lips captured yours. “Yes, yes.”

Steadily he started to drive his hips down again, filling more of his length into you. You kept kissing him as you resettled yourself on the mattress, getting as comfortable as you could manage.

He moved as he needed, between your parted thighs he struck down, plunging deeper into you. The burning in your muscles quickly became less noticeable and important to you. Your blood rushed to different areas, taking your focus with it. He reclaimed his ideal rhythm, his thrusts coming in consistently, the speed making it so that you couldn’t get caught in any trains of thought.

You draped your arms around his neck, kissing him through the rising reactions. Your inner-walls were so responsive to the massaging of his cock, constantly fluttering with excitement and sporadically squeezing his shaft.

You were certain that he was no longer holding back and your body was rocked by the power. The end of each thrust landed perfectly, encouraging more shaking at your core. And before there was a chance for you to recover from its effects, another one was coming in to amaze you.

His speedy movements were getting you up to that sublime edge again. You could feel the build-up and you recognised what it was all leading to.

You couldn’t keep yourself from moaning, your mouth falling slack as you parted from him. “More magic.”

He was noisily gasping for air as his body remained so active on yours. “What?”

“I think- fuck, I could come again.” You admitted, those shakes at your core had become full-blown earthquakes.

“Really?”

You set your fingernails against his shoulders. “Yes, it’s- it feels like it, Damiano.”

“Me too.” He told you with a whimper. “I’ve been getting close, but holding it- trying to hold it back so I didn’t stop you from finishing.”

This brought a new wave of euphoria. “Let’s come together. Come with me, amore.”

“Yes.” His strained voice was almost drowned out by the terrific, continuous slapping sounds of his hips landing on yours. “Yes, yes.”

The tension gripped your entire body, holding you tight as you were reduced to nothing more than a collection of sensitivities. You squirmed as he jolted you higher towards the peak.

Then the relief rushed you, taking you beyond anything else. Your triumph was matched by the noises of his moans, making it clear that he was in a similar state. Everything became still as you were both consumed by your orgasms.

You gradually began to come back to reality to the feeling of him kissing all over your left cheek. This was the side that was closest to him now that he was lying next to you. One of his arms remained around you, resting beneath your body.

In the darkness, you smiled. This pleasure had been a revelation and its effects wore off little-by-little. It felt like your body was glowing, radiating relief in almost every pore.

“Holy fuck.” You gasped. “I can’t believe how amazing that was.”

“It was perfect for me, too.” He said, sounding just as content as you felt. “It was better than I had imagined, And if it wasn’t so clear: I did a lot of imagining.”

You grabbed his hand with yours. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

“Hey, no more sorries. It happened when you were ready for it, and that’s the only way I would want it to happen.” He said.

“I love you so much.” You said, feeling like three words weren’t enough to fully convey the big things inside you.

But he accepted it happily, replying with enthusiastic speed. “I love you too. Hey, please don’t tell your PT that I’m the reason you’re so exhausted in your session, because those guys could seriously beat me up if they thought I was impeding your recovery- a misuse of your energy or something.”

You chuckled. “Okay, I won't get you in trouble.” But you weren't certain that the therapist wouldn't notice the change in your mood because you were going to sleep feeling differently to how you had felt on any night before. There wasn't a hint of defeat in you, surely this would carry through to tomorrow, maybe further through your recovery.

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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[stormyoceans]

Sleepover ask -

PuenTalay headcanon, at Properly Old. Not forties, not fifties. But like... 70+.

😘 go!

DIDN'T EXACTLY PLAN TO CRY MY HEART OUT ON THIS FINE FRIDAY NIGHT BUT NO YEAH I CAN DO THAT SURE WHY NOT IT'S GOOD IT'S FINE IM FINE IM DEFINITELY NOT ALREADY TEARING UP OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT

basically this is the thing im sensitive about. so i took some of the headcanons i already had about this and tried to write them a little bit better, but i feel like they might be..both too specific and yet not specific enough at the same time ;;;;;;; still, i hope they can be at least an interesting read!!!!

SO HERE GOES NOTHING

it feels kinda silly to start with this but. they have matching pill organizers: blue for talay, pink for puen;

talay has diabetes and high blood pressure (too many sweets), puen has arthritis;

talay also has to go back wearing glasses because of presbyopia, while puen somehow still manages to have better eyesight than him;

don't ask me why, but i always loved the idea of puen eventually starting a garden in their yard (i blame the pink trumpet tree and the lotuses) and now not even his aching bones can keep him away from his veggies and his flowers;

when they were younger, puen was always the one getting up late and trying to keep talay in bed, but as they grew older their habits somehow switched: puen would usually wake up at dawn, and after staring at talay snugged closely against him and marveling at how their bodies still fit together perfectly after all those years (soft paunches and weary muscles and fine bones and all), he would throw on a dressing gown and slip into a pair of rubber boots to go putter around the garden;

talay would wake up some time later and slowly make breakfast before calling puen back inside to eat together;

when puen's arthritis gets bad, talay gently holds puen's hands in his own and rubs the thin, speckled, slightly gnarled skin with ointment, before pressing a kiss on top of them;

puen still loves to take baths, loves to sink in the hot water with all his creaking joints and let himself relax for a while. talay can't join him in the tub anymore, which is a pity, but he's always there to help puen out, to wrap a towel around him and pat him dry;

despite his worries, puen still has a full head of hair, but it's all gray now. talay has less gray hair but more lines on his face, especially around the eyes (puen loves them);

technically they're both retired, but puen still writes from time to time, especially children's books, and talay has learned he actually enjoys painting quite a lot (and even sold a couple of his works);

im fully convinced they would adopt a kid some time after the our skyy's events, but by now the kid would have grown up and started their own family, and while of course they're very close and puentalay are wonderful grandparents (or even great grandparents!!!!!!), not long after their kid went to college, puen started to brought in stray cats and never really stopped after that (talay did try to stop it the very first time, but it's hard to say no to puen, especially when he's holding a tiny kitten he just saved from the streets) [also no matter how many cats they had throughout the years, they all somehow fell in love with talay. talay always jokes that it's because puen is a cat himself];

one morning, talay gets out on the porch to call puen for breakfast and suddenly he can't speak. there’s a painful buzzing in his head and a strange sagging feeling on his face, and when he tries to call puen's name his mouth doesn't cooperate. somewhere in the distance, their new stray, a tabby who loves to follow puen around in the garden, is meowing almost desperately. the last thing talay remembers is puen's pale face and puen's arms wrapped around him;

talay's had a very mild stroke, but thankfully there was no damage. with some rehabilitation and some adjustments of his meds, he is back walking and talking and cooking and painting like before. puen gets stricter with their diet tho, and he insists they go for a walk every day. in the past, he had sometimes joked around pretending to feel sick or to forget about stuff just to tease talay. now, he doesn't find it funny anymore. they aren't able to talk about their fears, but they don't need to speak out loud to understand each other. some nights they just spend hours kissing, slow and purposeful and certain, focusing on what makes them alive: the cadence of their breaths, the tremble of their bellies, the clutch of their fingers;

they don't really talk much about the alternate universe anymore, not because they don't remember it or no longer think about the people they met there, but because they've built a life and a family in their own, and they like to believe that so did everyone on the other side too. sometimes tho, when it's late and they're lying in bed together, fingers entwined and foreheads touching, talay would asks "in our next life, do you think we’ll find each other again?”, and every single time puen would whisper fiercely, holding talay so tightly it almost hurt, "i found you across universes, i'll find you across lives too";

there was a time when they both thought they would spend the rest of their lives alone. then, they found each others

[anony-man]

Long in the making but a fun one nonetheless, here’s a drabble written from some convos with my pal @siberat… enjoy!!

Chubformers drabble #104!

Characters: Brawl (& Onslaught - IDW)

Word count: 1.6K

If there was one thing Brawl loved, it was taking it easy with a bit of engex to end the night.

Rehabilitation wasn’t exactly one of his New Year’s resolutions, but if it meant getting to recline in a comfy chair while he knocked back a few dozens cans of the cheap stuff, he would take it. Their rise and fall from the Decepticons had been messy enough as is, and he wasn’t about to let such a golden opportunity go to waste.

It was him and his engex cans against the world for the night, and in that moment, the world was a tipsy Combaticon leader.

Drinking a bit here and there was good for the soul, Brawl always said. Sure, he’d fattened up over the years, and yeah, his belly hung like a nice hefty dome that entered the room long before he ever got there (according to Vortex, at least), but he liked it. A big belly and an even bigger body meant snuggling up with his mates and watching some old scrap on a human television, or packing away pounds of fuel at a time on the off-chance that they got to go out to feast.

Onslaught had been making small comments here and there since they’d started drinking, but the tank didn’t exactly mind. He got to be quite the snooze fest when the booze hit him, after all, and he was far too busy rubbing the mesh of his belly full of beer when Onslaught finally opened his mouth and began to speak—really speak, that is.

“The Combaticons are struggling as it is,” his leader had said, his fingers tapping the can in his servos as his knee bounced. There was a sigh, then a gulp of engex, then, “I just don’t know how you do it Brawl.”

“Er…” Brawl paused, giving his helm a scratch. “Whatcha mean, boss?”

He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, that was for sure. Even so, years spent enduring just about everything by Onslaught’s side had taught him plenty about his leader. He could tell when the Con needed a bit of space, but he could also tell when he needed a bit of prodding.

Onslaught visibly searched for the words, his voice catching in his throat. Beside him, Brawl crushed his empty can in one servo and tossed it into the trash, then reached for another and popped the tab.

“It’s complicated,” his leader began, the words slipping through between the sound of Brawl’s servo scratching the mesh of his belly and the guzzle of engex. “You hold the team together so easily.”

The tank tilted his helm, his servo stilling, his guzzling paused. There was silence for a moment, but he risked the obvious statement in the air.

“You’re our leader, Ons,” he said. “‘course I’m gonna do what I can to help out and stuff.”

Onslaught gave little for him to go off of, having fallen back into silence. The mood almost broody, like one of Blast Off’s frequent bouts of grouchy avoidance. Given that half the time their team was either snuggled up to Brawl’s big, warm frame or rolling their optics at Onslaught’s commands, and that literally nothing had changed from that dynamic, the tank couldn’t exactly understand the issue.

He drank his beer, and Onslaught joined. He got to indulge in a nice, sloshy belly full of engex, and Onslaught got to sit and air his grievances to the one mech who was just enough of a presence to listen. Blast Off was great for the role, of course, but when the two weren’t even on speaking terms…

Brawl inspected his half-empty can before throwing his helm back and draining it in one go. A few satisfactory pats to the well of his belly followed crushing the can and tossing it into the bin, and Brawl only lasted a few seconds in contented silence before he was releasing a loud, deep rumble of a belch.

“Uuuuurrrup! Mmm.. ‘scuse me,” he said between the pats at his belly and a chuckle. “Better out than in, yeah? The gas and the bad stuff, I mean.”

He leaned forward for another can, grubby fingers clawing the air as he struggled to reach. Reclining back and slouching did little to help him, as the mass of his gut lay heavy in his lap, pinning him in place. To his relief, Onslaught merely shook his helm and chuckled in return.

“Let me save you the trouble,” he said, leaning forward with ease to search for a can that hadn’t been emptied already. By the looks of Brawl’s belly and the slur of his words, it likely wasn’t many. “I’d call it a night if I were you, but I know how you get.”

Brawl nodded his thanks, happy to go back to reclining and giving his belly the room to breathe. He was the epitome of comfortable, slouched in his seat and rubbing his free servo over the bloated mesh as he chugged away. The near-final can was accepted with gratitude, but the contents hardly lasted more than a minute before being chugged down.

“Can’t pass up the chance to kick back and relax,” he said, stifling another belch behind the lip of his can. “Oof… ‘scuse me again, heh.”

“Just be sure not to overdo it,” Onslaught warned between chuckles. “I need you all awake and alert come morning. We’ve got that progress report due, remember?”

“You got it boss,” Brawl said with a salute. His belly jiggled with the movement, earning a snicker from the both of them. “Don’t you worry, come morning you’ll hardly guess I was drinkin’ and chattin’.”

“If you insist,” Onslaught retorted, his smirk playful as he leaned in and gave Brawl’s belly a poke. “Can’t have my finest soldiers bloated on the job, now, can we?”

The chuckles from his leader persisted as his servo went from poking at the jiggly mesh of Brawl’s belly to openly petting it, and despite his intoxication, the poor tank couldn’t stop himself from feeling a little… surprised. Affection was far from unheard of between the Combaticon mates, but he could count on one servo the amount of times Onslaught had ever been openly affectionate with him.

The servo was soft and warm against his belly, and he could almost see Onslaught’s amusement morph into contemplation in real time. There wasn’t much chance to broach the subject, however, and as soon as Brawl had begun to comment on the way Onslaught seemed so enamored with his belly full of beer, his leader was yanking his servo away.

“Sorry,” he said, quick to look everywhere but at Brawl’s raised visor and confused frown. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

“No paint off my plating,” Brawl shrugged. “Tex and Swindle do it all the time—even Blast Off if I’m lucky. Kinda nice, right?”

It was like his very own water balloon—but in his belly. With a big frame and full tanks, who could resist? Onslaught, apparently.

“Well, yes,” Onslaught stammered, his servo rubbing nervously over the back of his mech. “I got carried away. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to, ah… ahem. Anyways, I—I believe I should be calling it a night.”

….right. Onslaught had come here to talk, not to snuggle up and drink with him all night long. He was still their leader, after all, and that barrier was snugly set in place.

Brawl tried to ignore his disappointment and instead reach out to offer his leader a firm pat on the shoulder. Onslaught accepted it without hesitation, and even returned the favor with his signature nod, signaling that their little spark-to-spark was over… if it could even be called that.

Progress, it was. Not everyone wanted to be as cozied up as he tended to be, even if he was feeling as tipsy like Onslaught so obviously looked—and acted.

“So…” he began, watching as Onslaught stood and steadied himself against the armrest. “Same time tomorrow night then, boss? I’ll have the engex chilled, just the way you like it.”

He had expected a bit of laughter, or a quick nod, same as always. Instead, Brawl merely received a shy shrug and the aversion of Onslaught’s gaze.

“Yeah,” his leader said, sounding distracted. He paused in heading off to his quarters to turn and reach for the last unopened can of the night, then passed it over to the tank. “I’ll keep you posted. Thanks for listening, Brawl… and for the drinks.”

“Yep,” Brawl nodded. “Anytime, Ons. You just say the word.”

Going by the flush of his cheeks and his rush to leave, Brawl could tell that things were probably going to get a lot less cozy between them moving forward. That was all right, though. He didn’t mind, not a bit. As long as there was engex flowing and his boss around to keep him company, he was as happy a Combaticon as they came.

He popped the tab of the last can of the evening and took a sip, his optics closing in bliss. There was nothing he savored more than a can or thirty of cheap engex to fill up his belly. He was kicking it back, taking it easy, and he loved it. The engex was cool against his tongue and warm in his tanks, and the cushions were oh so soft against his frame as he relaxed and rubbed away at the gurgle of his belly.

Maybe it wasn’t the same, now that he’d felt the tender touch of Onslaught’s servo against his mesh, but it would do. Tomorrow, perhaps, they could talk some more… over a couple of glasses of engex, of course.

[meltastic]

Reptile Rehab and Your Eyes Only/As Luck Would Have It for the WIP ask game :D

↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺ Reptile Rehab was an obamitsu au idea that never really made it past the outline stage, but I still love the concept and think its super cute, I might revisit it some day!! The alternate title was Itadakimasu!

▷ the premise is that Obanai has a youtube channel/social media presence where he rehabilitates a ton of different reptiles and adopts them out. He always gives them super cutesy names, he's almost never fully on camera, it's just mostly his hands. whenever he does show his face, his mouth is bandaged/covered (because of the facial scars ofc.) he has a niche but dedicated following! his fans are obsessed with his asmr-like voice :)

◁ || Mitsuri is a mukbanger with a huge following. she started the channel at the suggestion of her therapist, to help get over her disordered relationship with food. she never eats in public because she's self-conscious of how much she eats-- and neither does iguro because that would require him showing his whole face. all of their off-camera meals are very lonely...

◁ unbeknownst to each other, they are each other's biggest fans. they eventually end up collabing for one of mitsuri's mukbangs, but iguro doesnt eat anything and just stares at her with heart eyes the whole time.

i wanted it to culminate in them both helping each other eat in pubic together for the first time! on their first date :,)

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹

And oohh I'm so glad you asked about the second one, because that's a one-shot WIP I've had mostly-written out since like, January, with that title picked and everything, and then I'm perusing the uzen tag and what do i see but TITLE TAKEN!! And the fact that it's your fic (i think), just makes that way way funnier omg. That other working title, I don't know where I got it from. It doesn't have anything to do with the themes of the story, so, I've no clue..

Anyhow, it was like a small idol au concept. wherein Tengen is Zenitsu's producer/manager, the wives are Tengen's former starlets-turned makeup/choreo/costuming team, and Zenitsu is a fucking mess (naturally).

ıılıılıılıılı ♬♬ Zen basically cannot perform until he passes out from crippling stage fright. Then he performs while unconscious and he's flawless onstage. But his eyes are always closed during his sets, of course. And his fanbase, while rabid with speculation, never get to see his gorgeous sad wet baby cow eyes. Only Tengen does :)

♬ It basically culminates in like, a very fluffy somno smut scene full of praise kink and post-show aftercare. Tengen basically worshipping his little star... damn now I really wanna revisit and finish writing this thing... anyways here's a very rough snippet under the cut >:3

[hopeswriting]

Hi I saw your post on Skull and tv series about famous people and I raise you: The public have that sort of relationship to Skull's career as with many of the "acclaimed geniuses" usually the artsy ones aka. everyone knows him but nobody thinks they "understand his true depth", "he was very bright and loud but in private really he was actually sooo mysterious and it was impossible to tell what actually went on in his head when he spoke so much but rarely anything of substance about himself", "he was everyone's friend, but I always wondered if he returned the feeling, he always acted that way around everyone after all" etc. Someone is quoted talking about how he'd always laugh things off to hide what he really meant. It goes on.

BUT here is the KICKER: Skull isn't. He has his own depth of course, but all of this post-mortem rose tinted "mystery" is that he was young and fearless and cheerful and genuinely a bit dumb and hypocritical and very bad at elaborating on the things he said. And best part: now he will never live it down around the arcobaleno and this time it's not even him who was talking himself up in ridiculous ways. (Actually it'd be kinda funny too if it made some canon character actually believe it and look at him differently)

hi nonny, thank you for the ask! [post referenced]

nooo not the unseen depth zerfghfgc!!!! not the MYSTERIOUSNESS!!!! 😭🤣😭🤣😭🤣 and yeah you bet he ISNT nor was he EVER any of that lmfao, nonny i'm losing it over this.

but okay, now let ME raise you this: 1) i know it in my bones tsuna is the one to buy into all of that bullshit, no questions asked. yes, hyper intuition tsuna, the last one who should buy into it and know better, i know, but no, listen. i KNOW he watches that documentary or whatever and goes "omg, i can't believe i misunderstood skull this whole time. i need to apologize to him right now and do better, and also i should stand up for him from now on and help the others realize they've got it all wrong about him too".

and then no one can stop him or make him change his mind. least of all reborn, who's the one trying the hardest to stop him and change his mind. for a yet undetermined reason, but i just know he canNOT stand that new development, it just makes him soo mad.

wait, no, i just figured out why he'd hate everything about this. it's because he knows skull, thank you very much. he's among the few who got through the obnoxious ordeal of bearing his bullshit long enough to know him, and to even become begrudgingly glad he did and fond of him but we're not going to talk about that, but now? he's just supposed to stand there and be told he's only ever seen the surface of skull? that he--he, of all people--couldn't tell he was just seeing the surface of him? over decades of knowing each other? he's just supposed to let people not recognize and acknowledge the arduous and praiseworthy achievement that is him having gotten past skull's terrible first impressions until they became close for what it is?

he's just about foaming at the mouth, and tsuna does not give a single shit about it because, as everyone knows, reborn is skull's number one hater. and then tsuna's undeterred work to, like, rehabilitate skull's image or something, actually WORKS because if hyper intuition tsuna says so then??? surely there's some truth to it at the very least???? and it works even more because skull does NOTHING to clear up the misunderstanding.

which brings us to point 2) shameless little gremlin that he is to his core, skull absolutely finds this the funniest thing and takes FULL advantage of it. like suddenly tsuna & co (the 10th gen/varia/shimon/etc) start to actually pay attention to him whenever he's around, trying to see """through him""", and skull makes sure to always be all like "oooh look at me not talking much à la hibari, i'm sooo mysterious and definitely thinking some deep thoughts and not trying really hard to not burst out laughing". or like, the arco are their usual rough but playful selves with him, and instead of snapping at them with no heat behind it either in a well-rehearsed routine the way he'd usually do, instead he's all like "oooh look at me and my fake laugh à la yamamoto. am i really laughing this off because i don't mind or am i just doing it to hide how it actually hurt me? there's sooo much unseen depth inside me".

and they buy it. go all like "oh shit??? maybe--????". and the arco are losing their shit because 3) okay look. consider this: the arco are the ones miserable over this, and skull is the one not letting them live down the new-found appreciation everyone else but them suddenly has of him. because like, the arco's reaction to this can only go one of two ways: either they find it just as funny as skull and help him pull off the whole "yeah this is actually the real me, you just didn't care to notice it before" act, OR. they just absolutely canNOT stand it. they're so mad about it. they're sooo mad about it. they did NOT unexpectedly survive through a curse alongside skull, only to hear they somehow missed everything about him that would have made him more bearable lmao. especially from people among whom most of them have never spent more than an hour with him. have never even TALKED to him even once. their blood pressure is through the roof while skull is living his best life and does not give a single shit about it. also becomes best friends with tsuna in the process of this whole thing because i say so.

anyway. i couldn't stop laughing while answering this nonny, i love it so much. and idk if you remember this @cloudspark @ravensilversea @juudaimes-true-form, but here's the hilarious sequel of the netflix's skull series au ezrsfgvhfd