#I’m literally watching everything burn and crumble around me

[corpsecoochie]

⬆️ I am perpetually in this state now and learning to be cool with having to live my life NEARLY EXPLOSIVELY LOSING IT at all times, but being so so chill instead. Very cool. So cash money. 😎

[this-lovely-universe]

WATCH IT ALL CRUMBLE

Chapter 1: As It Burns

In which, Lovely makes everyone suffer

Finley felt sick. Generally sick.

No, this couldn’t be happening. She refused.

Another goddamn quest. It had been 2 weeks. 2! This didn’t feel real.

The worse part (well, there were several worse parts but we’r not going to focus on that) was that Finley wasn’t involved.

Normally, Finley would be glad to not have to be on a quest. She had been on her own quest for the past 10 years, but, the other girls were, including a 13 year old.

She wasn’t all that upset that a 13 year old was going instead, she could care less, she was mad that a 13 year old was going on a quest in general.

Dorothea is a literal child. Finley was certain that girl could kick ass, but she knew just how badly it could affect her.

She didn’t want her experiencing that. Especially with seem so final as the prophecy they just got.

As all these thoughts ran through Finley’s head, she started to tune back in on the moment.

All four of them were emotional, as anyone would be.

She turned around at the sound of crying.

“Ah-”

The scene she saw was not pretty.

Dorothea was sobbing, and Brook and Anastasia looked to be getting angry as they cried.

They continued walking, leaving both Her and Dorothea in the dust.

“You’re joking, right?” Brook asked.

“Why would I be joking?”

“Jesus Christ…” Finley muttered. Dorothea looked at her with wide eyes.

Poor kid.

“I wouldn’t suggest following me in there.” She warned, looking at the Chaos cabin.

“Wha- no!”

“Thea, please. Just, wait.” The talking turned more into yelling.

“But-”

“No buts. This isn’t going to end well.”

Dorothea looked upset, but didn’t object. “Fine.” She continued walking to her cabin.

Finley sighed, before going in.

“Are you really saying I shouldn’t do this?!” Anastasia yelled.

“I’m saying you’re young.” Brook shot back.

“Yeah, no shit, sherlock. We’re all young!”

“uh-” Finley started, but was met with a monsterous glare from both of them.

Fuck- jeez

“You think I want to go on this?” Anastasia asked bitterly. “There is no way in hell I want too, and I would rather pluck my eyes out with a toothpick and eat it then let Thea go. But I don’t get a choice.”

“I know that, I’m trying to help you.”

“Help? How? Cause there is no soluation! We are stuck in this situation!”

“WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME TRYING TO HELP YOU?!” It got more heated.

“BECAUSE WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?! ONE OF US IS GOING TO DIE! WE CAN’T DO ANYTHING!” Anastasia yelled, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You could die. Don’t you understand?!”

Finley felt tears of her own roll down her cheeks.

“Yes! I have things to live for now! I know damn well what I’d lose!”

“Really? Cause you don’t act like you do!”

“Neither do you!”

“Let’s just-”

They both shhed Finley, not even turning to look at her.

“I’m fine.” Anastasia told her.

“Bullshit. None of us are fine. We haven’t been fine in a while.” Brook stated.

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to let me help!”

“I don’t need your help!” Anastasia turned away.

“Stop making it harder for yourself-”

“I’m not. I don’t need help.”

Brook sighed. “You do. You’re just being stubborn at this point.”

“I’m not!”

Brook just gave her a look.

“Stop that.”

“Stop being stubborn.”

“You can’t do anything! You can’t fix it!” She snapped.

“I’m just trying to offer support-”

“That was not what you were doing 5 minutes ago.”

“What is your problem?!”

“My problem?! what’s my problem?! My problem is everything! Two people I care aboout might die!”

“You might die.”

“I don’t care! I would rather you two be okay.”

“Well, you should! You were just telling me that I didn’t act like I had something to live for and now you’re acting like this!”

“Because it matters when it’s you!”

“It matters when it���s you too!” Brook yelled.

“No, it doesn’t.” Anastasia said with enough certainty it broke Finley’s heart.

“Yes it does! Why wouldn’t it?!”

“Because your more important!”

“Anastasia, who on earth told you that?” Finley asked, finally having the courage to speak.

“No one needed too.”

“Annie…”

“Don’t. I don’t need anymore pity.”

“I am not more important than you.”

“Yes you are!”

“Please don’t lie to me.”

“We’re not lying!” Finley cried.

“I’m not stupid!”

“You’re acting like it.” Brook told her.

She went to say something else, but Anastasia cut he off.

“Sorry that I don’t want to pretend that it’s not happening.”

“It’s not happening, Anastasia!”

“You can both get out if you’re going to lie to my face.”

They both fell silent in shook.

“Anastasia-” Brook stated.

“I mean it.” She said harshly.

“You’re being childish-” Brook tried once more.

“Get. out.”

“Fine.” Brook stormed out.

Anastasia stared at Finley.

“I hope you know that we weren’t lying.” She walked out the cabin.

She felt tears roll down her cheeks once more.

She headed towards her cabin, she wanted nothing more than to pass out in her bed.

She spotted Dorothea sitting on the steps.

“What happened? Are you alright?” She stood up and ran over to her. FInley could tell she had been crying.

Finley quickly wiped her tears. A part of her wanted to pretend everything was a-ok, but she wasn’t the one that had to deal with the aftermath of that.

“It was… explosive, to say the least.”

Dorothea frowned. “Explosive?”

“Annie kicked us out.”

“Oh gods…” Dorothea wiped her tears.

Finley tok a shaky breath, trying to figure out what to say.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

She looked down at the ground for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“I guess.” Dorothea sighed. “No ones really okay after everything that’s happened today.”

“Good point.” She chuckled weakly, trying not to cry more.

She could see Dorothea shaking. She wanted to tell her it would be okay, but it wouldn’t. She knew it wouldn’t. It wasn’t okay. Nothing about this was okay.

She wrapped her into a hug. She felt her start to cry into her.

“I’m scared.” She sobbed.

“I know… You have every right to be.”

“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want watch anyone die. I dont want to die!”

Finley felt her lip quiver. Gods, this was hard to watch all of them go through.

“I wish I could take this away from you.”

“I do too.”

OOC:

only took a few days to write this, which is the quickest I've ever written a first chapter.

Anyways will cook an open starter after this cause why not have more angst?

Yall have anyone in particular you want for the open starter???

@arisdaughter / @letsbelikethewindtogether @childofthewargod @dianedantedominic @kaiaalwayswins @theorphicforest

@that-girl-cupid @delilah-isnt-dead-yett @daonedaonlyskh @hispanic-child-of-hermes

@aria-pane @wine-cooper @i-am-persephones-daughter @unhinged-waterlilly

@seed-of-the-pomegranate @istglevi-gotmesimping

@if-chaos-was-a-boy @ariathemortal @i-was-never-sane @gaygirldoodles @superbstarlightsheep

If you want to be added, removed or if I forgot to tag you, let me know :)

[yootaesowlwrites]

Heartbreak - Lee Taemin

A/N: To the anon that requested this. I am not good with headcanon's, so this has become a fic.

W/C: 1.4K

Note: Blank blogs will be blocked. I don’t trust y’all, so make sure you have your age in your bio/desc or something on your blog. Minors DNI.

Warnings: Angst, break up, make up, exes to friends.

Age Warning: None for this work.

You never thought the day would come when you would run into your ex-boyfriend, Taemin, again, and never in your wildest dreams did you think you would find him on your doorstep with a sheepish smile on his lips and an apologetic look in his eyes.

“Taemin… what are you doing here?” You breathe out in shock. Your hand gripped the wooden door tightly, you could feel your hand starting to cramp up, the last memory of him that you had was of him walking out the door and leaving you behind with a broken heart about five years ago.

You clutch the knife in your hand as you slowly put your fork down on the table, you can feel your heart pinching in pain as you stare at Taemin, on the outside you look emotionless, but on the inside, you are falling apart.

“This, what we have,” He says. “It’s not working, we have been fighting for weeks about literally anything and everything, and we can’t even find a middle ground,” You had been fighting for weeks when you had tried to talk to him, but your conversations would always end in a fight, you weren’t sure what had happened, but you were tired of it as well. However, you still wanted to fight for what you had with him, you still wanted to work things out with him, but it seemed like he had given up.

“I’ve tried talking to you, Taemin,” You say. You watch him stand from his chair but keep your eyes straight ahead. “But you keep blowing up on me, you don’t want to tell me why, don’t you think I’m tired of that also?” You tried to remain calm and keep your voice even as you spoke. “You keep pushing me away when I try to break through to you,” You put the knife down on the table and slowly lift your gaze to look at his face. “What’s going on? Is something bothering you at work?” You watch his jaw clench. “Let me guess, I wouldn’t understand?” You stand from your chair, walk around the table, and approach him. “I’ve heard it over and over the past few weeks.”

“Well, I don’t think I’m wrong,” He says. You stop in front of him and your gaze hardens. “You wouldn’t understand what’s happening, or going on, so why should I bother trying to explain it to you?”

“Because I’m your partner!” You say a bit too loudly. You clear your throat and glance at the plate on the table, that was still untouched by him. “I can try to understand, or make me understand, Taemin,” You lift your gaze to meet his, but he does everything to avoid meeting your eyes. “Even if I don’t understand, it would be better for you to let it out, instead of keeping it all inside.”

“Why should I bother?!” He says loudly, making you flinch and take a step back from him. “I would be wasting my breath, and my time!” You could feel your eyes burning as tears began to form in them, his words were harsh and cutting you like a knife. “You will never understand, so it’s best we end things now before either of us gets hurt even more.”

“Taemin…” You whisper, and reach out for him, only for him to pull his arm away and take a step back. You feel your tears spill down your cheeks at that movement, it felt like a knife had been jabbed into your heart. He turns around and makes his way towards the door, you watch him pull it open and look back at you.

“I’ll come for my things later, or throw them out,” He says before he walks out the door and shuts it. As it shuts, your knees buckle, and you crumble to the floor, Is this really it? Was this really the end between you both?

You hadn’t heard from him for two weeks before you had boxed up his things and sent them to his company before letting the landlord know that you would be moving out by the end of the week. You weren’t ever expecting to see Taemin in front of you again, especially not willingly.

“Can I come in?” He asks, he almost looks uncertain about what he is asking. “Only if it’s just for a minute,” You step aside and he slowly enters your apartment. “Thank you,” You close the door once he is inside and turn towards him.

“Do you want to sit down?” You ask. He shakes his head, and you watch as he begins to fiddle with his fingers. “Okay, then maybe you can explain what you’re doing here and how you found me?”

“Well, I had asked around,” He says. “We have some mutual friends,” You nod your head. He takes in a deep breath. “And for why I’m here… well, I would like to apologise for five years ago,” You feel a pinch in your heart. “I had no right to be like that towards you, treat you like that…”

“Taemin,” You begin, only for him to lift his hand and stop you from saying more.

“I was going through things, and feelings and emotions that I couldn’t explain or even understand, but that’s no excuse for my behaviour,” He says. “And I needed to come and apologise for that, for treating you like that all those years ago,” You nod your head, waiting for him to continue. “I know I’m five years too late, but I’m truly sorry for my words and my behaviour towards you.”

“Well…” You quietly say. “I appreciate you apologising to me for that, I am also sorry for what was said during that time,” He shakes his head and lifts his hands.

“No, no, you don’t need to apologise, you tried your hardest to get me to open up to you, but I was just being foolish,” He says and lowers his hands. “And I hope that we can become friends again, I would completely understand if you wouldn’t want that,” You softly smile at him.

“You do know that it would take a while for both of us to be able to trust one another completely again and that it will be hard work, right?” You ask. He nods his head. “Then we can give it a shot,” You knew that it would take you a while to trust him fully again, but hopefully one day you could have a beautiful friendship with him again. “Would you like to come over for a movie sometime?”

“I would like that, but can we make it at my place?” He asks. “I recently got two cats and I don’t want to leave them alone for too long during the evenings,” You nod your head.

“You should have started with your cats, I would have immediately agreed to be friends with you again,” You jokingly say. He chuckles and gives an apologetic look. “Just let me know the day and the time, and I’ll see if I can be there.”

“I will do that,” He says. “Can you give me your number, so we can arrange this?” You nod your head and walk past him towards the couch where you had your phone on charge, you unplug it and turn towards him, handing your phone to him. “Thank you,” You watch as he enters his number before you hear a buzz coming from his pocket. “I just sent a message to my phone, so I can save your number,” He hands your phone back to you and you lock it. “Thank you for your time, Y/n.”

“Thank you for coming all the way here to apologise,” You say. “It means a lot to me,” He nods his head, giving you a small smile. “Send me a picture of your cats, okay?” He laughs and nods his head as he begins making his way towards the door.

“I will, I’ll take one ASAP when I get home to send to you,” He says. You walk behind him towards the door. “Take care, Y/n,” He opens the door and steps outside.

“You too, Taemin,” You say. He walks down the hallway towards the elevator, and you watch him until he steps into the elevator before giving him a wave, he returns the wave, a bigger smile now on his lips, and it seems like a mountain had been lifted from his shoulders. It felt the same for you, like a mountain that had weighed you down for five years had finally been lifted.

[denim-devil]

Another

Sam Winchester x Male reader

WARNINGS - FLUFF, Drunkness, Flirting (lowkey), Sexual tension, Kissing, Raw, Anal, Alley way sex…JUST DIRTY LIKE SAMMY-

You and Sam go festive drinking…but it takes an unexpected turn

A/N - I’m so slow with these things JESUS- sorry, enjoy! (This isn’t proof read because I literally don’t have the time- sorry)

-::-__ __-::-__ __-::-__ __-::-__ __-::-__ __-::-__ __-::-

You crumble into the bar, laughing at Sam’s corny Christmas joke. You lean backwards as you take a swig of your drink, allowing the burn to settle deep in your throat, warming you up slightly.

“Okay…Oka- I hav…one”

Your sentences are slurred and short, eyes growing fuzzy around the corners as you giggle at your own stupid festive joke, smirking as you watch Sam try his hardest to compose himself.

“Okay…so W-What do yo- get if you…you cross Santa with a duc-duck?”

You watch as Sam’s lips pick up at the corners turning into a toothy smile, his playful chuckle and squinty eyes causing your heart to ache…you loved him.

He shrugs his shoulders. You smirk, trying to keep back your laughter…it wasn’t funny, it was cheesy but you were drunk, everything was funny.

“A-A christ..m-mas Quacker!”

Silence falls over you for a few seconds before Sam rests his head on the bar, his body twitching whilst he laughs, tears threatening to escape his eyes. He pushes you playfully, shaking his head.

“I-I had too�� you whisper, chuckling to yourself as you drink the last of your drink.

You feel a poke on your shoulder. You look up to see the barmaid with her hands on her hips and a raised eyebrow…she taps her watch which you could easily say you lost track of time…which you did.

“Time to go gentlemen!” She exclaims, presumably to get off her shift, you don’t blame her so you hop of your bar stool, dragging Sam off of his causing him to spill his drink on his shirt.

He stumbles into you, lips pecking your cheek as he wraps an arm around you. “Yo…your hot”

You giggle but don’t think much of it.

—::— —::— —::—

[00:03AM]

You pull Sam up off of the wet road, hearing his giddy chuckles sounding out into the alley way you were approaching.

Everything was dark, but the street lights helped you find your footing along with Sam as you rest him against the cold brick wall.

Looking up into his eyes you shudder…they were dark, enticing, a small glint of lust took your breath away quite literally as your hands rake against the front of his body.

“Sammy…” you whisper slightly slurring his nickname you use so fondly, fingers twiddling the buttons on his damp shirt you gulp.

“Y-Yeah?” He questions, his large, warm hands settling on your waist to keep you up right infront of him.

You were sure there was something more…then this. You Sam were close, closer then most friends should be. You chuckle as you stand on your tip toes, lips brushing against his own.

Everything was happening so quickly but the both you had no strength to hold back, your drunkenness taking over as you latch onto his own set, tongues already sliding against one another like your body’s.

You taste the remanence of the whiskey he had been sipping on, his teeth clashing against yours as you switch positions. You were now underneath his body, back pressed against the cold wall.

“Hmphhh”

You slip away to catch your breathe, hearing the rustling you watch as Sammy gives it his all to try and slip out of his trousers successfully, but you don’t laugh, instead you help him, watching him slip out of both his boxers and pants.

You stare, seconds pass by as you watch inches of his glory stand proud, the head red and eager just like Sammy himself.

You panic slightly, he looks to big…way to big to fit, but you could make this work right? If you wanted it to bad you needed…you wanted to.

“God S-Samm- you been h-hidin this from me?” You slur, a single hand wrapping around the flesh, it was warm and heavy in your hand as you decided to move slightly, tugging at it.

His head drops backwards, moans of your name falling from his lips as you do what you can.

“D…” he pauses, trying his best to form his sentence. You pull away, letting him slip from your hand, rocking your body into his.

“Do…y-youu- wan…god; you want this” he whispers against your head, lips kissing at your scalp, nose resting there. You nod, once again slipping away from the warmth to rest your front against the brick, sticking your ass out.

“S-Sammy…I’ve w-wanted…shi; Please”

He stumbles into your body, his half naked form resting against yours, hands snaking into the band of your pants, pushing them down along with your boxers, the eagerness clearly taking over him.

He was aching so he wasted no time in pushing slowly into your awaiting body. You shriek in pain, holding onto his needy hands as he continues to push past your contracting muscle.

A guttural groan echos throughout the small alley way, feeling his balls settle into the pert of your ass only encourages to push back onto him, arching your back even more allowing Sam to rest his whole body weight on you.

“So…So fuckving tight-“

The night was endless…or that it what it seemed like, you were sure Dean was worried out of his mind but you were safe…Atleast in the arms of his baby brother.

[nemeseos-noctua]

Here's the other: How'd they react to their S/O who cherishes their gift given by their beloved so much, that one day the gift was destroyed by a hilichurl and they went so livid they practically fought the creatures to death and threw them to a lake somewhere, and sulked the whole how they don't deserve them anymore cuz of how careless they were. For Razor, Albedo and Xiao 👉👈

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: razor, albedo, xiao (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: not proofread, mc is referenced as an alchemist/adventurer in albedo’s, one swear word in xiao’s

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: im EMBARRASSED at how long this is and how MEANINGLESS THE WRITING IS IM SO SORRY 

he made you a paw-shaped clay sculpture!

it was cute and small, fitting right into the palm of your hands

to others—it may look like some worn-down toy, but to you, it was a good luck charm from the ever-cute razor

but perhaps, it wasn’t quite the clay-shape that you held close to your heart... no, it was the strenuous effort razor put into sculpting the paw

you remember it vividly. how the boy would dig his hands into mud and sit under the burning sun, carving the dirt with his bare fingers as he hid the gift from your sight

so when a good-for-nothing hilichurl decides razor’s paw-shape charm was a nice pebble for hot potato... boy were you livid

Patting the ground beside you, [e/c] eyes widened upon the feeling of nothing but grass.

What...? Peering over, you stared blankly at the empty space, comical arrows pointing at the now-gone charm you had received from Razor. Just where was it? You swore it was right beside you...

And as if Barbatos were laughing at you, the wind blew, burning your eyes as the sight of mitachurls and hilichurls danced around the fire in the distance, tossing what looked like a rock into the air.

Ah. 

You blinked.

That was the charm Razor made.

first of all... how did the hilichurl get it? the charm was literally right beside you!

agh, whatever.

you’ll just retrieve it. easy, right?

no.

first of all, your power would literally turn the lush grass into a desolate canyon (not really). second of all, you’d probably end up destroying the paw in your rampage

hah...

—if the hilichurl didn’t destroy it first

Materializing your weapon, you couldn’t help but hope that the paw had miraculously survived the impact of a hilichurl throwing it against the floor.

Hah, what were you thinking? Of course it didn’t... physics just didn’t allow it.

But you know what physics did allow? Why, beating these enemies to a pulp, of course!

once you floored the hilichurls, you quickly scrambled as to look for signs of the paw anywhere

berating yourself as to how utterly foolish you were for letting it go and leaving it unguarded in the first place, you stared in defeat at the sight of crumbled clay and hardened dirt in the grass of the hilichurl camp

why? why were you so careless? seriously, how did this happen? if you had just kept it in your backpack like a regular person, razor’s hard-earned hours and craft would still be as grand as ever-

“[y/n]?”

Blinking, you hadn’t realized you had been sulking in the midst of this hilichurl camp. [E/C] eyes lifted up, widening once they had landed on none other than Razor, his crimson eyes like the agates that littered Dragonspine, his hair as grey as stormclouds.

“Ah... Razor...” You smiled in exasperation, staring at anywhere but said boy. How could you face him after watching his clay paw get destroyed by some measly hilichurls?

“Are you okay?” He asked, glancing around at the scene before him. The grass wilted, the camp that he remembered being obnoxiously loud and disturbing was silent and empty.

“Yeah, no biggie,” Waving off his concern, you began to walk away, your heart sinking with each step.

First, you let his gift get destroyed. Second, you walk away from him.

You were such a terrible partn—

“[Y/N]?” Razor’s voice cut through the air, a tension you had created solely on the thoughts of your own mind. Gripping your wrist with a tender touch, you didn’t fail to notice the way his eyes drooped down ever so slightly.

“Did I... make lupical mad?”

Gulping, you quickly waved your hands in front of your face, eyes widened as you tried to carefully explain the series of events that had just led down to this very moment.

“I—well, you see, your uh, paw-clay-thingy... I was careless and I—“

“Break it while hunting?” Razor answered, tilting his head as his hold merely stayed still, not wavering for a second, as if you were a boar in his hands.

“Ah...” 

Razor was much better at observation than you had thought.

“It’s okay. I make more for lupical,” Razor nodded, already beginning to pace over to a pond as he dipped his gloved hands into the water, wafting around for dirt as you rushed up behind him.

“Wait! But I was careless... you don’t need to make ano—“

“It’s for lupical. Lupical close, I give lupical gift that never break.”

Everlasting—that was what he wanted to make.

And a part of you couldn’t help but agree.

albedo, in all of his alchemy prowess, made you an artificial flower

how? don’t ask him. he’ll spew some lengthy thesis and paragraph about the fundamentals, the research, the prototype, the testing, the—

ahem, anyways!

you had never intended to bring it outside. but one day, you had left your camp under the supervision of barbatos (wow go barbatos) and ventured off to fetch some materials

and when you came back? you were met with the sight of hilichurls and slimes raving around your tent

what the—

“I...I’m hallucinating,” You deadpanned, slapping your wrist at the sight of pyro slimes and masked hilichurls dancing around your tent, the inside of your humble abode moving around as if it were possessed.

And the cherry on top? A pyro abyss mage emerged, the flower floating besides it. But oh boy, it was no flower anymore... it was a flaming flower.

At that moment, you were left to ponder. Maybe, just maybe, you kinned a whopperflower at that point. Because oh boy did your temper and sanity explode on those little enemies, the way your blade sunk into their forms—

you were already planning your apology to albedo. he trusted you and loved you enough to make an artificial flower for you... and yet, it so pitifully crumbled at your touch

okay, not quite your touch. but it crumbled at the ugly pyro abyss mage’s touch

so, as any good s/o would do, you sulked while rebuilding your camp. it’s okay. as long as albedo didn’t know his creation was charred, all would be well. besides! he was quite a busy man! chances were low that he’d discover!

busy, he was, observant, he is

perhaps, you should’ve known

“Ah... hi Albedo,” You winced, opening your tent to smile at the alchemist who merely stared at you.

“You were gone for a while. Is everything okay?” He noted, remembering your absence from visiting his own camp at Dragonspine. As an alchemist, he knew what it was like being holed up in a camp. But for two weeks? Even he needed breaks.

“Well, you see... I was out... gathering materials! Yes!” You gave him a weak thumbs-up, wailing internally once his piercing azure eyes trailed around your camp, noting that nothing looked new. 

 “You don’t need to lie to me, [Y/N]. Is something the matter?”

“I’m sorry!” You cut off, clapping your hands together in a prayer-like position, guilt welling up in the pit of your stomach.

“...Why?”

“Your flower—I left it unsupervised and it was set aflame and I’m so so so sor—“

“Don’t be.”

Mouth dropping, you stared up at the male, an amused expression painting his face like the canvases he dedicated to you.

“At least you were not hurt while it was set aflame. Come, I’ll show you how to make some more,” Opening your tent for you all the way, Albedo held a hand out to you, eyes flickering in mirth.

“And next time, don’t try to run away from your problems.”

“You cheeky littl—“ A blush of both embarrassment and fluster formed on your face, shocked at his sudden remark.

he made you an adepti amulet

enhanced with super-cool-adepti-no-mortal-can-have power, xiao had informed you that all you needed to do was hold up the amulet and it’d scare any kind of enemies away!

cool, right? too bad you left it unattended while fighting the irritable anemo cube! now it’s at the bottom of the sea <3

how did this happen, exactly? well... you see... when wind picks up and becomes strong... light-weight objects will fly up into the air!

and sometimes, those light weight objects will fall into the sea, and sometimes, those objects would be gifts from your adeptus boyfriend who was waiting for you back at wangshu inn—

ahem. anyways. you beat the crap out of the anemo cube (aka, beth. aka, tornado cube. aka, cube waifu)

I should just... not go back to Wangshu Inn today. Haha... I’ll go ask Katheryne for a commission... You nodded, stuffing the turquoise shards of wind into your pockets, your bags filled with mora and enhancement ores being thrown off the side of the cliff.

—Along with the adepti amulet Xiao had made for you.

Seriously... you still had to wonder just how that happened! One second, you were avoiding getting sucked up by the vent of the anemo cube... and the next, your bag was traveling the world!

Can’t have shit in Teyva—

Trekking back to Mondstadt in defeat, you were innocently oblivious to the worry of the Yaksha back in Liyue.

are they okay? do they need help? did they go to dragonspine? all these questions spun around xiao’s head as he watched the moon rise, his mask dissipating into the wind

you told him you’d return tonight... yet you hadn’t. and a part of him had wished you hadn’t left liyue, so he had at least some control over whatever dangers dared to attack you

but, he knew you were strong. why else would he love you, anyway? he does not find appeal in being the savior 24/7

so, he waits. atop the balcony of wangshu inn, across the stars and moon, he prays to his archon, wishing—no, hoping you arrive safely

And—you did. You arrived back at Wangshu Inn.

... Three weeks later.

“You’re late. Very late,” Xiao’s voice blared in your ears, a blessing and a curse all at the same time. You didn’t know how to tell him the amulet was thrown off a cliff—but at the same time, you really wanted to run your fingers through his hair.

“Haha... sorry about that,” You laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of your head as Xiao merely grumbled, appearing before you with a piercing stare.

“Where were you? You did not even send me a letter.”

“I’m sorry... it’s just... eh... well...” You looked away, your heart churning against your ribs as Xiao extended his index finger out, tilting your chin to face him.

“What?” He asked, his tone harsh yet soft, longing yet logical.

“I uh... kind of... lost your adepti amulet... I’m sorry.”

He blinked.

“You waited three weeks to tell me that?” He asked in disbelief, almost in disappointment. Seriously, he was an adeptus! A Yaksha, at that! He could’ve just made another one for you... But nooo... you decided to wait three weeks in the land of the free (America?) and then worry him to death.

“Mortals...” Xiao muttered under his breath, crossing his arms with a huff as he turned his head away, the wind picking up.

“Hey, wait! Aren’t you going to say anything? Like a disappointed lecture or something?”

“No.”

Disappearing, you facepalmed, already pulling out some sweetflowers and milk to whip up some almond tofu.

Damn that adeptus. Who was he to tug your heartstrings like that?

You sighed, sitting beside a cooking pot as lingering yellow eyes watched your form, their irises softening at the sight.

— constellations! 💫

[zachsreaderinserts]

sleepy boys inc x gn!teen! reader headcannons

trying something new! i like bbs and all, but i wanted to write for other youtubers! lemme know if yall wanna see more content like this lol.

this takes place in a minecraft au!!! also, mentions of bad parenting/abusive parents

wc: 2,319

okay the sleepy boys

chaos incarnated, all of them. you can’t deny it

so, when tommy invites a friend from a local village, at first, everyone else is skeptical. since when has tommy made a friend who didn’t hate him within 20 minutes from all the screaming and insults he spewed?

unlike his friends, phil is more excited than anything. though he isn’t tommy’s dad, he feels like it sometimes, so he really wants to meet this new person who has caught the youngest’s attention

techno is very much not on board. he has a hard time trusting people at first glance and having been friends with tommy for the longest, he knows that tommy readily jumps the gun and attempts to befriend literally anything just because he can

and wilbur? indifferent for the most part. yes, he feels the need to make sure tommy is protected and cared for, but he also recognizes that this situation is out of his hands. the best he can do is hope that their friend isn’t an absolute asshole

so, it’s saturday. all three men are sitting on the couch in phil’s cottage, talking amongst themselves as they wait for tommy to come back. techno makes a joke about murdering them, which leads to phil scolding him about his violent tendencies

“you haven’t even met them yet, techno, what the fuck.”

wilbur is simply adding fuel to the fire, making little remarks here and there and watching the whole thing escalate to phil lecturing the piglin hybrid.

because of this, not one of them had noticed that tommy returned, with his newest friend. they both stopped at the sight of phil in dad mode, tommy considering just turning around and taking his friend as far away as physically possible

too late, since techno’s sixth sense made him whip around and stare at the newcomer. this made phil stop lecturing and wilbur quit giggling long enough for tommy to introduce his friend

after saying their name, the friend lifted their hand shyly, face burning from slight embarrassment. their other hand was latched onto tommy’s, feeling intimidated.

can you blame them? the fucking blood god looks like they wanna skewer them and cook them over a campfire.

tommy took notice of their shyness and cleared his throat, “we were planning on going to the carnival in their village if you three assholes feel like tagging along.”

like there was any way they were gonna let tommy and his friend go out without chaperones.

tommy turned back to his friend, “give me a second, i’m gonna go grab my sword just in case.” and proceeded to run up the stairs and towards the guest bedroom in phil’s house that he claimed.

the millisecond he was out of earshot, techno grabbed his friend by the front of the shirt.

“what are your intentions with tommy?”

the friend blinked once, twice, then bit back a smile. “you’re asking that as if i’m about to date that motherfucker.”

this time, it was wilbur who bit back a grin of his own. who would’ve expected the originally shy kid to have replied like that????

techno’s brain short circuited and his grip on their shirt loosened slightly. did.... did this kid just brush off his question???

“can you put me down? you’re gonna stretch my shirt.”

techno’s brain blinked back into focus and he gripped the kid’s shirt harder, shoving them against the nearest wall. “i asked a question, kid.”

“you know, tommy told me something like this would happen. i’m glad i came prepared.” and then, tommy’s friend sucked in a deep breath. techno leaned back, expecting the worst...

“MWISTER TECHNWOBWADE, PWEASE PUT MWE DOWN BEFWORE I SCWEAM”

oh god, this was far worse than anything he thought of.

he dropped the teen out of disgust more than anything, reeling backwards. if there was one thing that haunted his dreams, it was uwu-speak.

phil started howling of laughter, clutching his stomach and hunching over. originally he was going to stop techno from threatening a literal child but this outcome was so much better than anything he was anticipating

wilbur was no better, already tearing up from how hard he was snickering. he started choking on his own spit at one point, smacking his arm against the couch.

tommy was so fucking confused when he came back down the stairs, seeing the mayhem that was, for once, not caused by him. he glanced at his friend, who had the world’s biggest shiteating grin.

yeah, they were gonna fit in just fine.

and they did! phil took them under his wing (both physically and metaphorically) and allowed them to come visit his home whenever they wished. and whenever they did, phil was the first to ask how they’ve been and what they were up to

to phil’s surprise, the kid was overall calm in their choice of activities. things like playing soccer or drawing or figuring out how to learn instruments in their free time. it seemed like they were desperate to get their hands on anything and everything just to learn

he found it funny, though, when their chaotic side shone through. they easily were on tommy’s level when they got into that headspace and it was so hilarious to him.

his favorite memory of the kid was when they walked into the house and marched right up to where techno was reading idly in the corner. planting their hands on their hips, they spoke.

“if you were to fuck a clone of yourself, would it be masturbation or would you be considered gay?”

phil, who was washing the dishes six feet away from them, just about crumbled into a ball on the floor from how hard he was laughing and sobbing.

of all questions, that was the one that came out.

but he had no idea that the chaos was a coping mechanism. he just thought they were naturally like that in their free time.

he soon found out the truth when they came home with tommy, who was cursing up a fit, visibly angry. his friend was slumped over, as if trying to hide themselves from the world

when phil asked what had happened, tommy exploded.

“their fucking dad took all their money from their savings! said he needed it more than them and when they asked for it back, he called them a fucking disappointment! that fucking bitch--”

phil can count very few times when he felt true anger and he can confirm that when tommy had told him what had gone down, he saw red.

but he knew better than to outwardly show it. judging by how hunched over and defeated the kid was, what they needed was a stable support system

so he walked over and shut tommy up with a hand on his shoulder, “why don’t we take the rest of the night to build up that game room you wanted in the basement. i’m sure if we knock it out before techno and wil are supposed to be back, we can all play something like monopoly.”

seeing where phil was headed, tommy nodded and brushed away his anger. he knew that what his friend needed was a serious cheering up. tommy ran towards his guest bedroom, claiming that he was going to find his blocks.

phil crouched in front of the teen, tilting their head up to look him in the eyes. “you’re not a disappointment. you’re an amazing person with a chaotic joke machine going 120 kilos over the speed limit in your head and you are talented. your dad doesn’t know shit about what you’re capable of doing.”

oh boy, the kid’s crying. those are tears, full on tears.

that night was one of the best nights of their life, however. they enjoyed the entire three hour long game of monopoly where they watched the light leave everyone’s eyes. it was funny when wilbur lunged across the table when he landed on a railroad, out for phil’s blood.

speaking of wilbur, he enjoyed every minute in the kid’s presence. they often asked creative and random questions and went along with the abstract jokes he made, the two of them laughing heartily the entire time.

when the kid first mentioned wanting to learn how to play the guitar, he practically burst through the wall of the room next door, breathing heavily and exaggeratedly.

“did someone say guitar”

yeah, he’s feral. that’s canon.

they proceeded to spend the entire day in phil’s garden, each of them equipped with a guitar. despite their outwardly smooth brain and stupid demeanor, the teen was a fast learner and could play the most basic chords by the time the sun was setting.

wilbur’s favorite moment was the first night they met, when they went to the carnival. there was the game where you shoot the water and fill up the balloons and the kid was going head to head against techno and tommy.

it was when techno won that the teen turned to techno with murder in their eyes and spoke in a deadpan tone of voice,

“you’re lucky you won this time, you gentrified mayo monkey.”

wilbur’s jaw dropped, as did techno and phil’s. tommy was already in hysterics, smacking his hand against the counter that held the guns.

needless to say, wilbur found his favorite, not-quite sibling in a heartbeat.

techno was the last to come around with the child. can you blame him? every time he tried to threaten them or had beaten them at something, they would respond in a cryptic threat--

“i’m going to pee your pants if you don’t let me win”

or just brushed him off. without a second thought.

“anyways, i was murdering a chicken the other day, and the fucker had the audacity to ribbit at me.”

to say he was confused was an understatement. he was terrified of the fact that a literal child held so much power and disinterest in things like their own life. so for the first few months, he avoided them.

but he had seen past that when it was around midnight on a weekday. tommy was hanging out with tubbo and ranboo in their village miles away from the area. wilbur was out drinking with schlatt, niki, and fundy, and phil was already asleep.

techno wasn’t too far behind, sitting in front of the fireplace and staring out of the window that showed the front yard. it was only then when he saw the flash of a familiar face and looked closer as the teen walked up to the house quietly. their head was down and they carried a small bag with them.

techno opened the front door with a long creak as they reached the porch steps. it was only when they jumped and looked up in surprise that techno had noticed a deep bruise on their left cheek in the moonlight.

despite the fact that he kept away from them, techno was very protective and territorial of tommy, phil, and wilbur. and since they were attached to the teen, he became protective of them as well.

so all the voices in his head went quiet for a second. before exploding into a mixture of screams and threats, all leading back to protecting the child in front of him.

without thinking, he reached forward and cupped their face for a better view of the bruise. at the warm and soft touch, tears slipped down the kid’s cheeks and they sniffed pathetically.

the voices quickly took a 180, all screaming to take care of them. make them feel better. so, techno led the kid inside and let them spend the night in his room, with them falling asleep on the bed and him falling asleep on the rocking chair in his room.

phil did not hesitate to officially declare himself as the teen’s official father, saying that their biological father was a “little bitch”

now somewhat living with the teen, techno found an appreciation for their quieter moments, when they were reading or simply daydreaming. it was cute, in his eyes. but he also grew to enjoy when they were absolutely feral, especially toward tommy.

his favorite moment with them was when they had gifted tommy a music disc for his birthday. it was sweet and sentimental and tommy just about burst into tears when he saw it.

all of the sappiness quickly vanished when tommy put it into a jukebox.

“FUCK THIS PUSSY, BOY, FUCK. FUCK IT RIGHT, BOY--”

tommy had let out the most terrified scream and it practically engrained itself into techno’s brain. it was the first time he ever laughed at something the teen had done and the teen felt proud of themselves.

and finally, tommy. he was already happy to call himself a friend of the teen’s. they were like peas in a pod, working together.

tommy came to them when his insecurity felt heavy and they came to him whenever their dad’s words got to them. they had a nice system of dependency on one another and neither of them would trade it for the world.

tommy’s favorite moment of being friends with them was during their first birthday living in phil’s house. it was a birthday befitting their personality, with brightly color streamers hung and confetti all over the floor. he knew that they enjoyed it severely and once the cake was cut, the kid turned to phil.

“phil, where’s the big tiddy strippers i requested?”

tommy was GONE

he all but choked on his slice of cake and walked away, shaking his head while trying to stifle his giggles. but when he heard phil’s scream of “WHAT”, he just lost it.

all in all, his friend had made a fine part of the sleepy boys. they were a happy face in an otherwise somewhat bleak and dangerous world. and all four men appreciated it.

[darkmulti]

I see your request is open for hc yay!

Can i request A!JKxO!Reader where jK has a huge dick and reader is a virgin and also his mate. So JK marries her and forcefully deflowered her and forcing orgasms out of her (bleeding/blood play while deflowering her is up to you). She found out JK’s obsessions of forcing orgasms out of hers until she passed out every night. JK also has a breeding and breastfeeding kink so he wanna knock her up just so he can breastfeed on her. He locked her up, all the time he spends with her is used to breed her while forcing as many orgasms out of her. Ok thats too long of an ask, sorry.. 🥺 thanks! 💜

-> I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH SHAUSHSHS

⚠️: NON CON, mention of blood, breeding kink, breast feeding kink, multiple orgasm, dacryphilia kink, angst, death, murder, slapping, somnophilia kink, rough sex

Pairing: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega!Virgin!reader

-> sorry for any mistakes

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Your breed and Jungkook’s breed are not on good terms

The reason why is because your breed have better senses and are a lot stronger

Jungkook’s breed is the second strongest and let me tell you, they don’t like second place

Since they outdo your breed in numbers, they travel around in large packs and kill wolves your kind

If they eliminate all of you, they’ll be on top

Your parents raised you to stay away from them

They’re just trying to keep you safe because you’re their only child

They allowed you to explore the forest, but you couldn’t go too far

They still needed to be able to smell you out

You’re parents also told you howl if you felt like you were in danger

And you can only explore during the day time

Once it’s night, you must stay close to your parents so they can protect you

One day, you were sitting close to edge of a cliff

This was your favourite spot because it gave the perfect view of the sun setting

10 minutes later, you decided to go back to your pack only to be horrified by the scene

Your pack… everyone was dead

Blood everywhere

Bite marks all over their body

You walked into the crime scene more and saw your parents dead on the ground, next to each other

You immediately burst out into tears, not believing what you’re seeing

“Mom! Mom, please! Wake up!” You nudged her but it was too late

You sat down in between your parents and grieved the whole night

Why couldn’t they kill you too?

You were about to close your eyes but, caught an unfamiliar scent

Your natural instincts kicked in and you got up

You started looking around but that’s when something attacked you from behind

You fall to the ground and knock out after they give you one hard blow to the head

The next morning, you woke up in a bed

You frantically looked around, trying to put the pieces together, but that’s when he popped out of no where

His scent didn’t fail to reach you and once you inhaled it, you remembered all the traumatizing events of last night

Your heart rate increased and you immediately started to panic

“Where’s my mom?! Where am I?! Take me home!”

You started to freak out

“My mom told me to stay away from monsters like you! Leave me alone!”

You let out a piercing howl and made a run for it

However, Jungkook was faster and much, much stronger

He got a hold of your wrist and dragged you back to the room

He quickly pulled out his phone and shoved it in your face

You were squirming around at first but once you heard a familiar cry, you stopped

Jungkook was showing you live footage of wolves your breed, tied up god knows where and howling for help

Your heart crumbled into a million pieces

“W-why are you doing this to us?” You choked on your sobs while watching your breed beg for mercy

“Marry me, and I’ll let them go.”

You looked at him, appalled

“Marry? I won’t marry you. After you killed my family, you want to get married?!”

You pushed him away from you and slapped him

Jungkook poked his cheek with his tongue and quickly dialed a number

“Kill them all.”

You look up wide eyed and shouted “No!”

“You don’t wanna marry me so, now I have to kill them.”

“Wait! No! I’ll marry you! Please set them free!”

Jungkook smirked in victory and told his buddies to stop

“Wedding is tomorrow. Everything is planned, all you have to do is get all dolled up for me and say “I do.”

He left your room as you sat down on the edge of the bed, wiping your tears away

The next day was the worst day of your life

They woke you up early so, they could start getting you ready for the wedding

Once you said “I do” at the alter and signed the paper, Jungkook lips turned into a evil grin

After sealing your marriage with your first kiss, Jungkook drove you both back to your new house

Once you got inside you turned around and faced him

“I did what you asked. I got married to you and now, I’m your mate. You got what you wanted. Now show me live footage that you’re letting the wolves go.”

“You’re so cute, y’know? You really fell for it. The footage wasn’t live. Those wolves have been dead for a while. I could show you the footage of me killing them, if you’d like.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach

“What do you mean? It wasn’t real?!”

“You’re so naive, little one.”

You look at him, dumbfounded

“Why did you kill all of them? Why did you kill my pack? I just don’t understand. Why did you kill all of them just to marry me in the end?”

“Lower your voice, I don’t like being talked to in that way.”

“Go fuck yourself!” You yelled and turned around to leave

He pulled you back and carried you downstairs to the basement while you kept thrashing and yelling

“Let me go, you sick bastard! I don’t want to be near you. Your scent is disgusting!”

You made the worst mistake of your life that night

That was the first time you made him angry

He tried controlling himself but, after you insulted his scent, he wasn’t going to go easy on you

One hard slap after another shut you up pretty quickly

Now, you were terrified of him

Your cheeks were warm and stinging as hot tears glided down

All you could think was “why?”

Why was this happening to you?

Why was only your breed being targeted?

Why did he kill all those wolves?

It mentally tore you apart

You couldn’t wrap your head around anything going on

Before you could fight back, Jungkook got on top of you and pulled your dress down

“W-what’re you doing?!” You quickly grab your dress and struggled to keep it up

“No! No, please! I’m not ready! Please, I’m not ready! I hate you!”

You began to panic, so naturally you howled

“Please! I want my first to be someone I love! Please, don’t do this to me! I’ve never done anything bad in my life! You can kill me if you’d like!”

Crying and fighting wasn’t enough to stop Jungkook

He pushed his whole length in and started fucking you hard without letting you adjust

You frantically cover your breast and private part with your hands but he flipped you around and took you from behind

You felt disgusting and worthless

Your blood was streaming down your thigh and it covered his cock

Jungkook grabbed your ripped wedding dress and wiped up all the blood so, you’ll never forget this day

He threw it in front of you to make you feel even more bad about yourself

You looked away from the dress and focused on your breathing

The speed he was going at was unbearable therefore, it was quite hard to catch your breath

You started to cry for help, calling for anyone who was brave enough to save you

Jungkook’s size wasn’t easy to adjust to

It felt like you were being ripped apart

Especially because it was your first time

“P-please! S-slower! I can’t-”

Your voice cracked in between your sobs

You felt his cock grow inside of you and his tip began rubbing against your cervix

The pain was too much to handle so, you started to cry harder

“No! Too much! I can’t take it!” You wailed, trying to move away from him

He pulled you right back and went as deep as he possibly could

You came around him and thought it was over

Little did you know, it was just the beginning

Hours later, you were under him sobbing hysterically

You were filled with his cum to the point where it was leaking out of you

There was literally a puddle of cum in between your legs

You had bruises all over your arms and body because of his tight grip

And his strong scent made your head spin

You were a helpless, mess

Hickeys covered your neck, collarbone and jawline

Your lips were swollen from all the rough kisses

Your clit was burning from overstimulation

Your cheek was red and bruised

But, Jungkook didn’t plan on stopping

You felt like you were going to pass out when suddenly ripples of forced pleasure pushed through your body

You held your breath and tried fighting off the feeling but it was impossible

You started to cry more, not being able to handle the fierce orgasm

You sobbed uncontrollably, not know what was happening to your body

Before you could open your eyes again, you passed out

Jungkook hovered over you again and fucked you 10x harder after watching you spasm around him

He didn’t care that you were unconscious

You looked so hot in that moment, he couldn’t resist

This continued on for the rest of the year until he purposely impregnated you

If his offspring had a mix of his genes and a mix of your genes, it’d definitely be one of the strongest wolves to ever live

You were crying so hard, telling him to stop because you weren’t on anything

After you found out you were pregnant, he blamed it on you

“You have one fucking job and it was to take your pill.”

“I ran out of pills and I told you that night! I told you to stop. Jungkook, I tried my best to warn you but you didn’t listen-”

He pushed you back on the bed and forced another orgasm out of you, not caring about your pregnancy

You couldn’t fight him off so, you stayed still and hoped for the best

You didn’t want to stress out because it would be bad for your baby

Although you were pregnant, Jungkook demanded sex

Even when you were 8 months pregnant, he still fucked you as hard as he could

You were in so much pain but handled it for your child

The next month, you gave birth

You were obviously new to the mom life and it was quite difficult to adjust

Usually, women have to wait 4-6 weeks before engaging in sexual intercourse

The doctor explained it to both you and Jungkook, so it’s not like he doesn’t know

After you breast feed your newborn son, you tuck him into bed and go to your shared bedroom

You were still in a lot of pain and really wanted some rest

Jungkook was out hunting and when he came home, he was a bit intoxicated

You smelt the alcohol the moment he stepped in the house

He stumbled his way upstairs and slammed the door shut, scaring your newborn

Your son started to cry so you quickly got up to put him back to sleep but Jungkook didn’t allow you

“See what you’ve done? You wouldn’t have to deal with this shit if you had just taken your pill.”

You ignored him and went to your son’s room to put him back to sleep

Jungkook followed you to his room and pulled you out before you could pick up your son

“Did you listen to what I said? I’m fed up with this attitude of yours.”

“Let’s not fight in front of him. We’ll talk in the room.”

You escaped his grip and put your son back to sleep

When you enter your room, you see Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed with his belt in hand 

Your heart dropped to your stomach

“N-not today. It hasn’t even been 24 hours yet.”

He scoffed, “do you really think I give a shit?”

He raised his voice a little and you gestured him to keep it down

“Don’t yell, he’s sleeping.”

“This is my house, I can talk however I’d like.”

There was no winning against him, especially if he’s intoxicated

You thought you could hold him off for the night until he’s sober again, but you were completely wrong

You were going to your side of the bed when he whipped his belt below your butt

He pulled you by the hair onto the bed and pulled down your night shorts

“I can’t, Jungkook! It hasn’t been 4 weeks! No!”

Jungkook always gets what he wants

His body weight kept you down as his cock plunged deep inside your cunt

You haven’t healed properly, so the pain was intolerable

You covered your mouth with your hand and sobbed

You still needed to be quiet but it hurts so bad

You pushed your face into your pillow and attempted to let out quiet whimpers

“It hurts! Please, slower!” You whispered

Jungkook purposely went faster and the skin slapping was so loud, you were afraid it’d wake up the baby

You were gasping for air, trying to get his body weight off of you so you could breathe normally

An hour after, you had another orgasm

You clutched onto the bedsheets and tried your hardest to remain silent

Jungkook came inside you again and collapsed on top of you, making you groan

He grabbed your right breast and began sucking as hard as he could until milk squirted onto his tongue

You tried squirming around to get him off, but the more resistant you are the more aggressive he gets

In the end, you passed out like always

You kept your distance from him and gave all your attention to your son

He hated that your attention wasn’t on him 24/7

So, he gave your son to his parents for a full month and kept you locked up in the basement

For that whole month, he fucke you senselessly

You were having orgasms every night; you couldn’t do it anymore

He’d bite down on your nipples and manhandle you all sorts of ways

You were exhausted but your son’s life was always on the line

Jungkook could easily hurt him

He doesn’t really care about your son

(I mean, he does but he acts like he doesn’t so he can use it against you.)

Jungkook only looks at your son as your weakness

He’ll make you have three orgasms in a row and if you tell him to stop or slow down, he mentions your son and it immediately shuts you up

He loved having so much power over you

He could literally fuck you for the rest of your life

You didn’t understand why this was happening to you, but there was nothing that you could do about it

There’s no one that could help you and even if there was, Jungkook will always one step ahead

No one dares to mess with him

I know this has lots of mistakes. I’m so sorry😭

[emiewritesthings]

doctor, doctor - jay halstead

jay halstead x fem!reader

summary: in which y/n takes it into her own hands to look after a sick jay 

a/n: i’m not gonna lie i think this is one of my fav things i’ve ever written, i would really appreciate some feedback and p.s the beginning of it is based on that scene from brooklyn 99 :)

masterlist

“okay, it’s 10 o’clock, meaning halstead is officially an hour late to work,” y/n announced as she appeared from the break room with a mug of poorly made coffee. looking around, she had immediately distracted everyone in the room with her playful smile. “okay let’s do this, theories!” she encouraged, taking a sip with excitement, but immediately regretting it as s he spat it back in the mug and abandoned it on adam’s desk as she leant against it.

“uh, he forgot to set his alarm?” antonio suggested, willing to play along with the little game that y/n had created. however clearly his answer didn’t suffice as y/n scrunched up her nose and shook her head in disappointment.

“you are a detective in a unit that just last week rescued 5 people kidnapped and used as chess pieces in a human sized version of the game and the best you could come up with is he forgot to set his alarm? pfft, disappointing, dawson. who’s willing to take this seriously?” she scoffed, brushing his idea off with a simple roll of the eyes as the group laughed at her ridiculousness. 

“maybe he has been murdered by a gang looking for revenge.” adam piped up, earning a sudden and rather forceful slap on the back as y/n cheered. her eyes looking over at antonio as she gestured towards the less experienced detective.

“yes, that’s what i’m talking about. bit dark, ruzek, but better than dawson’s,” y/n hummed, adam clearly pleased with the praise he had received by the pretty detective. “any one else wanna shot?” she offered it out into the room, suddenly the sound of rolling wheels on the chair had everyone turn to face al who was munching on a ham sandwich.

“he walked into the middle of a drug ring, slept with the kingpins daughter and is now having limbs removed, one by the hour.” suddenly an eery silence fell in the bullpen as al suddenly disappeared back to his desk and everyone was left with an image that she was sure was burned on the inside of everyones mind.

“uh, okay, someone might want to arrange a psych check for olinsky asap,” y/n mumbled, pointing in the direction where he had once been and looking around as if checking that she hadn’t been the only one to hear al’s suggestion. “anyways, all of you are wrong. clearly he has joined a motorbike gang and now makes his money on the road striking off names on the government’s hit list.” 

just as the room erupted into discussion about how idiotic this conversation was, as well as their ideas, the sound of footsteps caught y/n’s attention as she arrived at her desk. however as he reached the floor, the reason for his absence was clear.

“woah, you look like death.” adam chuckled, it immediately being silenced as jay sent a deadly glare his way. with his skin paler than normal with undertones of green, a layer of sweat draped over his forehead. jay flashed as smile at y/n as he passed, reaching his desk and collapsing on his chair with a wince. 

as everyone went back to what they were doing, y/n found herself straying her eyes away from her computer screen for longer and longer periods of time until she found herself by his side with a sickly sweet grin, pun intended. 

“i don’t wanna hear it, y/l/n.” jay mumbled, massaging his temples with his fingers hoping it would somehow sooth his pounding skull. whilst usually he had every minute of his day just to hear the woman chat away about whatever crossed her mind, he had found himself in quite the state since last night, leaving him restless and irritable.

“believe it or not, i just wanted to make sure you were alright,” y/n’s entire demeanour crumbled as she melted at the soft features of his face that came with being so vulnerable. but from the look in jay’s eyes, it was clear he didn’t 100% believe her excuse. “and to ask what the hell you think you are doing here? you are sick jay, you need to rest.” 

it was very rare that jay found himself ill. in the years that y/n had been working by the man’s side, she could count on one hand the times she had seen him with so much as a cough. in fact she had called him captain immune system for a period of time when she realised he was pretty much indestructible. y/n couldn’t deny the concern bubbling in her gut seeing him so weak.

“i’m fine,” with her eyes slitted in a look that practically shouted ‘bullshit’, jay continued. “i promise, it’s just a little cold. nothing serious, i think i’ll survive.” he joked dryly, finding it incredibly hard to look away from y/n for her eyes were filled with a warmth that he knew was an expression usually saved for those she cared deeply about. 

“yeah well, you need to take care of yourself, jay, i’m being serious. chicago can cope if you just have one day off, get your energy back.” 

y/n was reminded of the times she had the exact same words spoken to her by the exact person that didn’t seem to want to take them onboard. every time she had so much as a sniffle he would be straight over with some soup that his mother used to swear by and the name of a box set that he would put on for the two of them to watch as he sat stroking her hair in order to try and convince her body to rest. neither of them had anyone else to take care of them, so had taken it upon themselves to be that person for the other. 

“now, i’m gonna go tell voight that i’m taking you home before you infect this whole office.” before he could object, she had already ran (not literally but jay was impressed by her speed walking) to her boss’ office. knocking on the door, with a sweet smile and a sea of words running off her tongue so quickly that voight had to agree just to shut her up, y/n returned by his side. “come on, germ face, your carriage awaits.” 

“you know i love it when you talk dirty to me, y/l/n.” winking at her, y/n giggled as she supported him back down the stairs and out of the station. the two chatted away, y/n explaining how she thought al was secretly a sociopath and jay filing her in on the newest instalment of his apartment block drama until they pulled up in front of jay’s apartment building. 

as they walked through the door, jay’s arm resting around y/n’s shoulders as he struggled to find strength, they managed to reach the sofa before y/n’s body gave up. both of them letting out large breathes before looking at each other and falling into laughter. 

“you hungry, i could try making your mom’s soup?” y/n asked, as she pushed herself up to look down at the man. her hair falling down around her face and tickling jay’s skin. “i’m sure it won’t be as good as her’s but i’m willing to give it a try.” 

the way she was sat with the large window gleaming light behind her, y/n almost looked like an angel. her eyes and smile were wide, with her beauty wrapping its hands around jay’s neck squeezing until his head felt light and he nearly reached up to touch her porcelain skin. but jay had noticed the sensation way before he was blocked up with a cold.

“yeah, uh, that sounds nice.” jay agreed with a minimal amount of sass, but y/n didn’t seem to notice as she moved off the cushions and towards the kitchen. she had pretty much memorised the recipe when jay had finally given it to her on her birthday after offering to pay for it multiple times. whizzing around the kitchen, she was too busy to notice the tired eyes admiring her from afar. 

jay wished his mom was alive to see the woman that she would have loved. all the times he had brought girls back to his family when he was younger didn’t add up to an ounce of the beauty and power that y/n held in her middle finger. the way she bit back at his wit, but also had the ability to spot when he was upset from the other side of the city. she was everything her mother wanted in a daughter in law, everything she wanted for her little boy. 

“okay, give me your honest opinion. i can take it i promise.” y/n sudden appeared with a tray that held a large bowl of the semi-thick orange liquid, a glass of water and a couple pills. approaching jay, she carefully helped him up from where he laid and placed it onto his lap. “actually that was a complete lie, do not tell me the truth. i may just cry.” 

“why thank you, nurse y/l/n.” he teased.

“it’s doctor actually.” she quipped back.

jay chuckled lowly, as he grabbed the spoon and took a large spoonful to his mouth. feeling the slight sting of his tongue at the heat, it was only when the flavours hit that he was suddenly transported to an earlier time in his life. a simpler time. only this time there was y/n by his side. 

“the verdict?” she prompted, taking a seat besides him, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

“not sure whether i want to tell you, don’t think you’ll fit in this room if your ego grows any bigger.” y/n grinned as she leaned over to press a kiss against his shoulder. jay closed his eyes at the contact, feeling the ache in his body freeze for a moment as it registered the tingling sensation. “all jokes aside, it really is good.” 

“i’m glad, your mother was a smart woman.” she nodded, leaning forward to turn tv on. jay continued to spoon the soup into his mouth, as y/n chose a show that they both had started together and had refused to watch another minute without the other. y/n leaned back making herself comfortable, having already texted voight telling him that she would most likely need the entire day off, and getting the go ahead, she had no plans other than being by jay’s side for the next however many hours. 

it was sometime in the early evening and the tv continued to emit light, but neither jay nor y/n was paying any attention to the drama. jay, with his head on y/n lap, was leaning into her touch as her short, thin fingers ran through the dark strands that sprouted from his scalp. his body wrapped in a blanket that y/n had grabbed from his room, he felt completely at peace. 

“you know what, i think you are more bearable when you are at death’s door.” y/n joked quietly, as the forest green eyes were exposed back to her own. jay groaned in annoyance, realising that there was no sweet y/n without the sharped tongue y/n. a trait he adored, but at his own expense. 

“and to think i was starting to think you had gone soft on me, y/l/n.” he hummed, wishing he could forever have her giggle on repeat wherever he went, for the sound made goosebumps run down his neck and down his arms, like some kind of magic that only y/n possessed. 

“as much as i love you, i can’t risk my bad ass reputation for you.” 

although jay was sure it was just part of her banter, the moment the ‘i love you’ fell off her tongue, he found himself wide awake, unable to push past the feeling in his gut as it looped over again and again in his mind. y/n could see the conflict in his face, as he glanced up at her with something she had never noticed before. 

“you mean it?” he asked. 

“mean what?” confused, her fingers fell from his hair, making jay regret ever opening his mouth.

“do you really, you know, love me?” he knew he had committed too far to try and retreat. maybe he could blame it on the fact he couldn’t think straight, although she was like a lie detector that wouldn’t let such a bogus excuse pass. y/n blinked down at him, watching as he sat up to look at her with a hunger that needed to be addressed. swallowing the lump in her throat, y/n nodded.

“of course, you are one of my best friends, jay.” it was true, but it wasn’t the full truth, both of them knew that.

“i didn’t realise we had started lying to one another,” jay’s eyes were soft, as he reached to place his hand against her cheek, smiling as she slowly leaned into it. closing her eyes, she tried to find what direction she was looking for, but didn’t dare take the first step. without even thinking, jay jutted forward and captured her lips before they could form a single syllable. 

gently, but passionately, jay and y/n moved their lips against the others. the feeling was ever-growing as the kiss deepened and deepened until they had no choice to pull back, deprived of their ability to breath. as jay’s eyes came back into view, y/n, for the first time in her life, had lost the ability to form a sentence. 

“we just...” she began but it ran off quickly. jay chuckled.

“we did.”

the two sat in silence, examining the other one’s face until y/n found herself moving forward until she was sat in his lap, legs wrapped around his waist as she pressed her lips against his. just like before their bodies and minds were set ablaze with desire and what had remained unspoken for what felt like forever. jay had nearly completely forgotten about the illness that had put him in the care of the woman that he craved more than anything else the world had to offer. 

as their lips parted ways, suddenly the air had thinned and everything felt... normal. jay’s lips were unable to break out of the large grin mould that y/n had put them in, which was soon mirrored by the young woman. a small giggle escaping her lips.

“if i get whatever it is you have, i expect the exact same treatment.” 

“only for you, doctor y/l/n.”

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Six)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) heated make out, oral (female and male receiving), swallowing, unprotected sex, multiple positions, overstimulation, multiple orgasms

Notes: here’s ch6! Sorry it’s a little shorter than other chapters…:( But I hope you enjoy nonetheless. It’s finally here;) Hope you guys like this chapter. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @monvieesdaebak @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @getmemyfries @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope @lecavivien @fancycollectormoon

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

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“I just feel like you aren’t into it…into me.” Hana looks down at her hands in her lap. “I want you to be, of course—actually, let’s forget this.” She looks up at Taehyung, her thin lips set into a firm line. “Your birthday is tomorrow, I want you to have a good time.”

“Hana…” Taehyung looks at her, his confused expression only growing. “I do—”

“I said let’s forget it.” Her strained smile only concerns him. “I’ll be bringing along a few girlfriends, that’s fine right?”

“Uh,” Taehyung tries looking into her empty eyes but fails, “Sure. Yeah, that’s fine.”

Taehyung bites down on his bottom lip as he recalls some of his last days before the island…that memory is over 6 months old. There’s no way Hana waited for him…at least, at this point he hopes not. But he realizes how right she was…she could feel that he wasn’t 100% into it—into her. The guys were right too. The sad part is…he knew too. But Jimin was right, it’s because he felt lonely and like he’s just getting older and he needs someone. But now…

Images of you, the last 6 months, the time you two have spent together is racing through his mind, flashing pictures of your smiling face. He internally crumbles. Your face is so pretty, he thinks. Your face when you laugh, when you smile, when you cry. Every expression you have ever made and have yet to make is beautiful art to him.

Taehyung notices the sun setting through his window and he knows the time has come. He hopes he can control himself…he’s a respectful man but no person has drove him as insane as you do. How will he handle touching you again? How will he handle his lips exploring your lips? Tasting you? An entire minute? Lord have mercy on his soul. Not because a minute is a long time but because a minute is just not enough.

~

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck?” you mumble under your breath as you stare at yourself in your bathroom mirror. You…you look at yourself in disbelief because what the hell are you wearing? What’s with this outfit? Your ass cheeks are literally hanging out of these shorts and your cleavage is just stupid out there. You’re wearing red matching bra and panties and for what? What are you expecting? It’s just some kissing! You groan out loud and walk inside your closet, ready to choose another outfit. You slip on some different shorts—ones that cover your ass and a long t shirt. You keep the racy red panties and bra though.

You go back to the mirror and stare at yourself. Taehyung said he wants to kiss you. He said it and you wish, you so badly wish you could have had the courage to tell him you also want to kiss him. But you don’t know if that’s a good idea. If you guys continue to cross the line…what will that mean?

Suddenly there’s knocking on your bedroom door, your head whips in the direction and you sigh. He’s here. It must be night, you’ve been in your bathroom for who knows how long! You take one last look in the mirror, nod your head and turn your body towards the door.

You reach your bedroom door and sigh out again, are you ready to face him?

“I know you’re standing there…” You hear Taehyung on the other side of the door, you can’t help but crack a small smile. “Come on, I’ll be downstairs.”

Then you hear his footsteps get further and further away as you lightly bang your head on the door. Why are you freaking out? This was your idea! Finally, you open the door and see no sign of Taehyung so you walk into the hallway and make your way downstairs.

You find Taehyung sitting on the living room sofa, he’s staring straight ahead, licking his drying lips. Once he feels your presence he’s turning his head to face you, his eyes narrowing.

“You’re here.” He says with his deep voice, “Shall we?” he gestures to the spot next to him on the couch.

You nod and walk to the other side of the couch, sitting down next to him. You leave a little space between your bodies and Taehyung smirks at you.

“You’ll have to get closer if you want to kiss me.” He says lowly, “Since you want to.”

“Right…” you whisper, scooting closer to him.

Taehyung looks at you for a moment and his eyes soften.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks quietly. “We can—”

“I’m sure.”

Taehyung exhales deeply and nods his head, licking his lips repeatedly again.

“Okay. The timer is on the table—”

“I’ll set it for a minute and 10 seconds.”

“Why 10 seconds?”

“So we have time to…” You pause, biting your lip. “…To get into it.”

Taehyung raises his brows and his mouth forms an ‘o’ then he is nodding his head.

“Okay, makes sense.”

“I’ll start it now…”

Taehyung inches a little closer to you, his knees touching yours and you gasp when you feel his hand squeeze your thigh.

“Relax.” Taehyung leans into you, his mouth at your ear. “Relax for me.”

You can’t help the gulp that pushes down your throat, you can’t help the absolute shiver you feel that shoots down your spine.

“Okay…” you agree, “3…2…1” and you’re pressing the start button on the timer and setting it in your lap. You look up at Taehyung expectantly only to find his gaze directly on your lips. Taehyung thinks your lips look as soft as they usually do and he’s desperate to get a feel of them. He brings the hand that was on your thigh to your jaw, he cups his large hand around it and you swallow hard. He guides your face closer to his as he watches your eyelids become half lidded. He leans further into you until you feel his puffy lips covering your own with a soft, slow kiss. His kiss is tender and controlled, he moves against you slowly. Fuck, this feels amazing.

You feel yourself melting into a puddle as his lips move against your lips, they’re so soft and taste so sweet. You finally respond to his sweet smooches with your added pressure. You kiss him back harder, but not too hard. You kiss him back with passion. He moves his hands from your face to your hair, he tugs on it as he deepens the kiss and you moan into his mouth as you wrap your hands around his neck. You can’t help but sigh between his parted lips and pull back, away from him.

“Is-Is everything okay?” he asks, concerned. His brows are pulled together and he’s slightly panting. You don’t answer him though, you only admire his face. He’s got flushed cheeks, swollen lips and blown out pupils. He looks so fucking good.

“y/n? The timer hasn’t gone off yet?” he tries to stay composed but you can tell he’s panicking.

“Huh? Oh right.” You try leaning back in but Taehyung stops you with his hands on your shoulders.

“y/n, we can stop this if you aren’t comfort—”

“I don’t want to stop, Tae.” You blurt out quickly. “I want to keep going.” You flutter your eyelashes at him, “Please.” His eyes widen.

Taehyung’s hands grip at your waist and leans in again, kissing you once more. His lips find yours in desperation this time, he moves his lips against yours messily yet perfectly. His hands slide down just a bit until they’re gripping your hips, he gives them a squeeze and you squeal. So he squeezes your hips again until you’re whimpering in his mouth. He takes advantage of your parted lips, taking this opportunity to lick past them and feel your tongue with his. He presses his mouth against yours harder as your hands run down his broad chest.

You begin exploring his front side, your hands gliding from his chest to his stomach. He groans when you slide your hands down with added pressure to his lower stomach, he feels himself tense as he continues to kiss you. His tongue swirls against yours as your kissing becomes more heated and more sloppy. He wants to explore your front too, god, he wants to feel your tits in his hands so bad. So he slides his hands up until he’s groping you, your breasts being squeezed passionately by his large hands. You groan when his thumb finds your nipple through the material of your shirt and thin bra, he’s rubbing it over and over and you roll your eyes back.

You want to touch him more, you want to feel him so fucking bad and you’re about to, you swear you’re about to but the god damn timer goes off. The loud, obnoxious beeping ringing loud and clear in your ears. You and Taehyung get stopped immediately, backing away from one another. Your lips leaving a small string of saliva connecting you two. You hurry to wipe your mouth and scramble to find the timer and stop it.

“Uh…” Taehyung’s breathing is beyond uneven. “I don’t know if that counts because we stopped.”

“Right…Then we should continue.” You give him a shy smile and he smirks over at you.

“Only if you want to.”

“I do.” You say, completely intoxicated. You reach up to caress his cheek and Taehyung goes soft all of the sudden, he’s leaning into your touch and he sighs out in satisfaction.

“Kiss me Taehyung.” You quietly command.

“My pleasure.” He hurries to capture your lips with his, his mouth moving quickly over yours, his tongue practically begging for entrance. He wastes no time fighting his way into your mouth and you let him, you part your lips and slip your tongue between his. He groans as his fingers find their way into your hair and he’s tugging on it making you moan between kisses. He tugs your head to the side, giving him access to your neck. His lips leave yours to leave wet kisses down your jaw and your throat, you immediately sigh out in pleasure arching you back and pushing your chest into his. Good, he thinks. You’re as affected as he is.

Taehyung takes you by the shoulders and lays your body down on the couch as he climbs on top of you, caging you in with his arms on either side of your head. He stares down at you with his intense gaze and you shudder. You’re really letting this happen…but before you can get too into your head Taehyung’s hand is at your lower stomach, riding your shirt up.

“This has to come off.” He states darkly, “Now.” You nod your head slowly and he’s raising the shirt higher and higher, until he’s lifting it off your body. This leaves you in some shorts and your red, lacey bralette. Taehyung skims yours body, his eyes trailing from the tops of your breasts until they’re focused on your shorts.

“These off too.” He plays with the material of your shorts. “Want to see what panties you’re wearing.”

You start to turn red but you agree, you lift your ass up as Taehyung begins dragging the shorts down your legs, revealing your matching red panties.

“Thought so.” Taehyung smirks, “You wore a matching set. Why? Did you know this was going to happen? Such a bad fucking girl.”

You breathe out heavily, wondering what to say but you decide to stay quiet. Not trusting your voice at this point.

“Speak.” Taehyung commands and you feel the chills run across your entire body.

“I didn’t know…” you lie, “I just put these on…”

“We don’t lie, y/n. When it comes to me and you, we always tell the truth okay baby?” You can hear his teasing tone, it’s light and playful and it goes straight to your lady bits.

“Okay…” you agree softly, “I want…”

“What is it that you want?”

“Your clothes off.”

Taehyung quirks a brow at you with an amused smile. “Oh?” He licks his lips and nods his head. He slowly begins taking his shirt off, revealing his tanned, broad chest. Your hands immediately go up to touch him, dragging your little fingers down until they’re at his shorts.

“These too, please.”

“Only because you have such good manners.” Taehyung gets off you to take his shorts off, leaving him in black briefs. You can see his bulge…fuck, he looks huge. Bigger than you remember when you two skinny dipped. He finds his way back between your legs, hovering above you.

“I believe you asked me to kiss you.” He says, leaning down. He nips at your neck, until his lips find their way back to yours. He’s kissing you much rougher now, his tongue dancing intensely with yours. His hips grind into you as he kisses you, you can feel his member rubbing against your clit so heavenly. You can’t help but whimper every time his bulge grinds into you, the feeling so euphoric.

“Taehyung…” you moan his name. You moan his fucking name. He is on the verge of going feral now, his hips moving into you faster and harder.

“I want to ….”

“You want to what baby?” he breathes out harshly, his lips now on your neck again, sucking bruise after bruise, painting art on your skin with blues and purples.

“Can I…” you sigh out heavily, “Please can I suck your cock? …Please…”

Taehyung drops his head in the crook of your neck and releases a long, unsteady breath.

“You realize if I let you suck on my cock, I’m going to end up fucking your mouth?”

“Please…” you whine, imagining his dick between your lips. “You can fuck my mouth.”

Taehyung chuckles, his hot breaths hitting your sensitive skin.

“Right here? You’re okay with them watching?” he asks, clearly amused.

“Show them who this mouth belongs to, Taehyung.”

Belongs to? Suddenly, Taehyung’s world stops. He wants your mouth to belong to him, of course. But does it? Is this just dirty talk? Or do you mean it? He sits back on his hinges, and cards his fingers through his messy hair.

“I want you, Taehyung.” You say smoothly, “Need you.”

Need him? Now he is beginning to spiral even further…you don’t need him. You just want what he can do for you…

“You don’t.” he says quietly, his voice low and his breaths uneven.

“I do.” You say, sitting up to caress his face.

Taehyung’s eyes dart all around the room, his breathing become even rougher. He hates misunderstandings, miscommunication, etc.

“I can’t do this.” He whispers and your eyes go wide in panic.

“W-What do you—”

“—Not until you tell me how you feel.” He says quickly, “I need to know how you feel about me.”

Your eyes widen even more before you’re slowly closing them.

“How I feel about you?” you repeat.

“Yes.”

“I don’t kn—”

“Don’t give me some bullshit, y/n. Either you like me or you don’t.” he stares down at you, his gaze as dark and intense as the day you met him. Taehyung leans down again, until his mouth is at your ear.

“I think you do.” He whispers. “But I need to hear it from you.” He leans away from you again, his expression serious.

“Taehyung…” you begin, “You’re my friend—”

“—Don’t. Do you feel the same way about me that I feel about you?” he finally asks but bluntly.

“You like me, Taehyung?” you ask quietly, the shock evident in your voice.

“How was it not so obvious? I’ve said this before the night we skinny dipped, but your ability to be so naïve…seriously baffles me.” He sighs out.

“Taehyung…” you whisper his name, “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You think having feelings for me means that’s it? That it’s the end? Baby, it would only be the beginning.” Taehyung leans down again as he caresses your face. “I know you’re scared. I know you have trauma that you’re still getting through. I know your ex fucked you up. But I’m not him. I’m Taehyung. I’m…fuck, I don’t know. y/n, please just open your heart to me.” Taehyung looks at you with so much compassion that it physically hurts.

“I know,” your voice shakes, “I know you aren’t him, Tae.” You take his hand in yours, “I do like you.” You finally admit, shutting your eyes.

“Look at me.” Taehyung commands, “Look at me babe.”

You slowly open your eyes again, gazing into his dark ones and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer.

“I’m only looking at you.” You say as you reach up and kiss him. You kiss him on the lips, long and hard. He smirks into the kiss as his tongue pushes past your lips and you welcome him with your own.

His hands explore your body again, he’s gripping on to your ass as his pulls you closer into his crotch, his hands then travel up your breasts and he’s unclasping your bra, throwing it to the side.

“God, I have waited to see these perfect tits again.” He groans, leaning down until he’s got your left nipple in his mouth, he’s licking it and sucking it making you moan loudly for him.

One of his hands is at your other breast fondling it while his other hand travels down until he’s feeling you over your panties.

“These panties are fucking soaked.” He mumbles, “Good girl.”

You whine when his fingers slide your underwear to the side and his fingers slip between your folds. He slides them around until he’s swirling two fingers over your bundle of nerves, making moan after moan leave your parted lips.

“You like being watched don’t you?” he teases, “Like for others to watch me get you off?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” You pant, “I love it.”

“Good.” Taehyung stops what he’s doing, causing you to groan in frustration.

“Why did you stop?”

“Because you said I could fuck your mouth. So, get ready babe.” He smirks down at you and guides you to sit up.

“Get on your knees for me.” He says as he stands from the couch. You follow his lead and stand up too then immediately drop to your knees in front of him.

“I want to see how good you are at sucking dick.” He smiles down at you, “See how well you can take this fat cock down your throat. Think you can handle it?”

“Yes, Taehyung.” You answer almost obediently, your big doe eyes staring up at him and he feels his heart soar.

“Good.” He pats your head, his fingers playing in your hair. “Good.”

Your eyes travels from his to his obvious erection through his briefs. You reach up for the band of his underwear and start pulling them down, freeing his cock, it bounces off his lower abdomen and the tip is leaking precum. You gulp at the sight. He’s huge. His dick is so long in length, but also so fucking thick.

“You can start easy, baby. Don’t got to shove the whole thing down your throat….yet.” Taehyung chuckles under his breath. “Why don’t you start by licking it?” he suggests and you nod your head.

You reach up to grab it, Taehyung tenses when he feels your small, warm hand wrap itself around his length. You look up at him again with your big, submissive eyes and he licks his lips. “Go on babe.” He quietly urges. “Show me how much you want to suck my cock.”

You lean forward, getting impossibly close as you smear his cum all over the tip of his dick. He groans at the feeling of your hand. You hover you hot mouth over the head and bring your tongue to it, licking him repeatedly, swirling your tongue all around the tip. Taehyung rolls his head back, groaning in satisfaction.

“That’s it baby. Now try taking me in your pretty little mouth.” He watches you with heavy lids.

You then wrap your lips around his cock, and he moans out loud, the feeling of how wet and hot your mouth feels has him losing composure. Not to mention it’s been a while. You begin taking his dick in your mouth inch by inch until he is feeling the back of your throat and you start a slow pace of bobbing your head up and down. He moans out again, you’re fucking sucking him so heavenly. Your tongue, your spit, your lips, your throat. It’s all perfect.

Then your hands join in, they begin pumping him while you suck on his head a little more harshly, he whimpers at the added contact—yes, whimpers. You’re going faster now. And he’s getting closer, you can tell with how his body tenses.

“You’re taking my cock in your mouth so well.” He pants out, “So fucking well.”

You then let his cock slip out of your mouth and you open your mouth wide and stick your tongue out, slapping his cock on it. He could come at the sight alone.

“Going to fuck your mouth now, is that okay?” he warns while taking your hair in his hands.

“Going to come all down your perfect throat, right?”

You nod frantically at the idea, “Please Taehyung, I want all your cum.” You beg for him, still pumping him member in your hand.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He takes his cock into his hand and thrusts it past your lips. You immediately choke on this length, it hits the back of your throat so roughly. Taehyung stares down at you with his sly smile and it only grows as he watches you take his cock. You’re a fucking vision, he thinks. Your wild hair, your exposed tits. You’re fucking drooling and moaning, sending all the vibrations straight to his dick causing him to moan as well. He begins pulling out of your mouth only to slam back in and he starts his pace between your lips. He’s thrusting into your mouth, he’s got a strong grip on your hair and he’s groaning at all the sensations. Your hands find his balls and you begin massaging them lightly making him fuck your mouth faster.

“I’m—I’m going to come.” He warns between bated breaths. “Going to be my best girl and swallow it for me?”

You only moan in response, your eyes on his eyes. He throws his head back in pleasure as he fucks your mouth faster.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re so fucking hot.” He pants.

You continue to massage his balls and he goes so unbelievably tense, he stills his hips and spills his seed down your abused throat. You quickly swallow it all, moaning as you do so.

“You’re so beautiful y/n.” Taehyung compliments you, completely out of breath. “Only I get to see you like this, okay?” he pulls back from your mouth, raising his briefs over his cock again. He helps you to your feet, and pulls you into his chest.

“So fucking gorgeous.”

“I need you, Taehyung.” You release a few short breaths, “Need you so bad.”

~

You get thrown on to the unbelievably soft mattress in your room, the soft sheets caressing your naked top half. Your breasts bounce as you land and Taehyung looks down at you, amused.

“What?” You ask, becoming shy.

“Nothing. Just really love your tits.” He groans out as you go to cover your chest. “Oh there’s no hiding from me, babe.” He smiles.

“These are mine.” You playfully say and Taehyung quirks a brow at you.

“You share now.” He says, leaning down and capturing your lips with his in a short but heated kiss. “Okay?”

“O—Okay.” You breathe out, “Whatever you say.”

“Now you’re learning.” He teases.

You gaze into Taehyung’s eyes and you feel yourself going weak, you really are a fool for this man. He has this power over you that you can barely describe.

“Tae…” You rub your thighs together and he smirks, leaning down to lick a strip up your throat, the cool air hitting that wet spot sending chills across your body.

“Hm?” he hums, his mouth hot on your neck as he places kisses.

“Need you.”

“My girl is so needy.”

“Your girl?”

Taehyung lifts his head from your neck and stares down at you, his sly smile growing much softer as he gazes at you.

“You’re mine now, you get that right?” he asks quietly. “I want you. I…like you so much…fuck, like so much.” He sighs out. “You and me are going to make it out of here and I will still want you. You understand?” he leans down until his nose is brushing yours. “I want to make this work.”

You’re left speechless. Taehyung feels this strongly about you? You blink up at him with wide eyes and he smiles at you.

“I really, really fucking like you.” He whispers against your lips. “Tell me you understand…tell me you feel the same…” he quietly begs, his voice soft.

“I understand.” Your hushed voice making it past your lips as you lean up to kiss him. “I really like you too…” you caress his face with your hand and he pulls away from you.

“Do you want me?” Taehyung asks and you laugh.

“Baby I fucking need you.” And you’re pulling him down again, his lips crashing into yours. You kiss him over and over until your lips are so pink and swollen.

“What do you…what do you need from me? I want you to tell me.” Taehyung commands breathlessly.

“You.” You whine and he lightly spanks the side of your hip.

“Not uh.” He shakes his finger at you. “What do you want specifically? I want you to say it.”

You squirm beneath him, feeling shy all of the sudden at his request but you find his eyes and open your mouth to speak.

“Your fingers. Your mouth. Your cock.” You whisper, rubbing your thighs together.

“Louder.”

“Your fingers. Your mouth. Your cock.” You say just a bit louder and he smirks.

“Louder.”

“I want your fingers! Your mouth! I want your fucking cock!” you cry out and he looks at you with a look of pride.

“Good.” He says while playing with the band of your panties. “Let’s take these off, shall we?”

You nod your head frantically, you reek of desperation and Taehyung couldn’t be more pleased.

His fingers dance around the waist band of your underwear, smirking down at you and letting a harsh breath leave his mouth.

“I never got to taste you. I bet you taste so fucking good.” His fingers slide underneath your panties when his eyes widen once he feels your heat. “fuck, you are soaked baby girl.”

“You did this to me…” you admit as you flutter your eyelashes at him.

“y/n…” he whimpers, the sound so fucking sexy to your ears. Your mind is so hazy, so full of lust.

“All mine… say it.” Taehyung dips his fingers between your damp folds and you moan out in pleasure.

“All yours.” You repeat. “I’m all yours.”

“Yes.” He pecks your lips over and over. You slip your hand inside his briefs and he groans at the contact. “Say it again. That you’re all mine.” He continues to rub your clit over and over. Your hand starts stroking his hardening cock and you smile into his kisses.

“I’m all yours, Taehyung.”

Taehyung’s cock is so pretty, so long, so thick. You love the way it feels as he thrusts himself in your hand. You want it inside you. Your breathing picks up and you sound so fucking breathless as you speak.

“All yours.” You say again and he continues to move his hips into your hand, getting himself off. His head drops down into the crook of your neck and he smiles against your skin.

“You make me feel so good.” He admits between rough breaths, “I need you y/n. I could honestly come in your hand but would much rather come in you.” Then he’s jerking his head up.

“Wait do we have condoms?” Taehyung asks and you smirk.

“In the nightstand drawer. But they supplied me with birth control…I’ve been taking it because of my period…so we don’t need to use—”

“You’re saying I can fuck this pussy raw?” he growls, “Saying I can fill you up with my cum?”

His lips are back on your lips and he’s kissing you with more depth and more passion now, your arousal wetting you as he works you up. You throw your legs around his middle, wrapping them tightly as he immediately pushes his painfully hard member against your core.

“Off. Take them off.” You demand between harsh breaths. And without another second passing, Taehyung is rushing to take his briefs off. And before you even realize it he is back on you, between your legs.

“These have to come off too.” He smirks, dancing his fingers up your thighs until he reaches your panties. He gently begins pulling them down, slipping them off one leg at a time. Then his eyes go completely dark. The darkest you have ever seen them. They’re fixated on your pussy and you begin to squirm under his gaze. He’s got his hands holding your legs down and then suddenly he is throwing your legs over his shoulders. He finally makes eye contact with you with hooded eyes.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He licks his lips. “I can see it.”

You know you turn red, red as your fucking underwear. You want to feel embarrassed, you really do but you only find yourself staring up at him with a smile.

“So fucking beautiful.” He says, his eyes focused on your cunt, you can feel your wetness drip down your thigh. God, what does he do to you?

“Taehyung please…” your words come out broken between harsh breaths.

“Please what baby?” he says before placing a kiss on the skin of your inner thigh.

“Please,” You screw your eyes shut, gripping the sheets beneath you. “Touch me.”

His mouth places wet kisses on your inner thigh, he glides his lips closer and closer to where you need him most. He hasn’t even touched you where you need him yet but you are already moaning. His name pushing past your lips in desperation.

Taehyung raises his head to watch you, your eyes are barely open but you can see him give you the deadliest smirk of your life. In a blur his head is dipping down again and you groan out when you feel him lick from your core to your aching clit. It’s almost overwhelming. His tongue is warm and slippery and you cry out again when his mouth finds your most sensitive spot and he sucks on it. Hard.

“Taehyung!” You scream out, your heels digging into his back. He slips his tongue into you and his thumb begins rubbing harsh circles on your bundle of nerves. He pulls your hips closer to him to get a better angle and he fucking finds it. His tongue is circling and licking at your clit while he slips two fingers into your heat, thrusting them inside until you are squirming.

You whine and whimper, your lips permanently parted as harsh breaths push past. His mouth feels so good and his fingers are deadly. Within a few minutes you are throwing your head back, crying out in pleasure as your high overtakes your body. You push your thighs together, probably squishing Taehyung’s head between your legs as you ride it out. His tongue never stops, even as you are coming down from your orgasm. His eyes are on yours and you see the evil glint. He keeps fucking going. You start to move around uncomfortably as the oversensitivity hits, you crease your brows and beg Taehyung to stop. But he doesn’t. He only comes up for air for a minute to say,

“You can take it baby.” Then he dives back in, attacking your most sensitive spot. After a few more uncomfortable seconds, the pleasure starts to come again. You are on the verge of fucking tears, the pain turned pleasure just turning you on more. It doesn’t take a lot to get you on the brink of your next orgasm, no, not really. Your hands are in Taehyung’s hair, pulling at it and when you hear him grunt in response you decide that’s all it takes for you. You scream out his name as you are coming all over his offensive tongue. You are so fucking out of breath as you come down from possibly the best orgasm of your life. Your hands fall to your sides because you are fucking dead.

Taehyung gently lowers your legs to the bed, his body still between them, sitting back on his heels. You open your eyes to get a look at him and you can’t believe it but you feel yourself getting turned on again—his hair is disheveled as fuck, his eye lids heavy, and his face glistening with your juices.

“Such a good girl.” He breathes out, his voice husky and low. He looks the hottest you have ever seen him. You glance down to see how painfully hard his cocks looks, and it does. It looks upset, like you should be touching it. Like it should be inside you.

“Come here.” You whine. And he does, he leans over your body with his, laying on top of you without putting any weight on your body. You reach up to smooth his hair down, even though he looks cute with it sticking out in random places.

“That was amazing.” You admit, your breathing still heavy.

“It’s not over.” His voice is strained, almost like he is in pain. And he probably is.

You reach below him and take his cock into your small hand. He hisses at the contact, his eyes slamming shut.

“Fuck.” He whimpers into your neck. “Fuuuuck.” He repeats slowly as you start stroking him. You take his cock and begin slipping it between your folds, sliding it up and down. It hurts you a bit but you take it. It’s all worth it when you hear Taehyung release the sexiest most drawn out moan you have ever heard. His head is in the crook of your neck and he bites down into the skin and starts moving his hips—almost hesitantly.

“Wanna fuck you…” he whispers.

His cock is getting coated in your wetness so it’s easy to start pumping him with your hand. Taehyung whines. A higher pitch than you are used to with him and it goes straight to your fucking greedy ass vagina and you are turned on all over again.

“Then fuck me.” You say in his ear.

Taehyung lifts his head up and looks down at you with his intense gaze that fucking kills you.

“Are you sure?” his hand comes up to cup your cheek and you feel yourself grow even more soft for him.

“I’m more than sure.” You say gently, then you let your eyes fall to his cock in your hand and you feel the heat creep up your neck. “I need you so bad baby”

And then there is a switch. Taehyung goes from looking at you tenderly to looking at you like you are his fucking meal. He licks his lips and bites down on his bottom lip.

“Then fucking have me.” He growls, taking his cock into his own hand, and gliding it down to your core. And then it happens, he slides into you one delicious inch at a time. You both moan out in pleasure. Like, finally. After all this time, after all these months of built up tension you finally have his cock inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Taehyung grunts as you clench your walls around him. He slowly eases his cock out of you, just leaving the tip in before he slams his hips into you. You yelp out as he does that same motion a couple more times. He’s fucking you fast and deep, the sensation causing you to scream out his name and other incoherent words. His cock brushes against your G spot as he goes deeper and deeper. It has you crying out, your whines and moans filling the room. He goes faster, his hips thrusting into you at a brutal pace now.

“Get on all 4’s, I want your ass up.” He commands. you scramble to get on your hands and knees, listening to his demand. Fuck.

“Do you like it rough baby?” He moans out, slipping his cock back inside you.

“Yes.” You say under your breath.

Smack. He hand meets your ass.

“Didn’t hear you, speak up.” He grunts, starting his brutal pace again.

“Yes!” you scream out, this position has him hitting your sensitive spots in a different delicious angle. He fucks you like this for several minutes, your bodies slamming against one another, the sound of his skin slapping yours filling your ears.

“Good. Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.” He continues to fuck you as he pulls you up, your back meeting his chest. He holds you up by wrapping his fingers around your throat, squeezing lightly. He places a kiss on your shoulder. “Fucking made for me.”

You moan out, his words pushing you closer to the edge a-fucking-gain.

“You feel even better Taehyung.” You say between moans.

This earns you his fingers on your clit. He reaches around and begins rubbing his fingers quickly that your knees buckle. The added pressure of his fingers has your orgasm coming soon and you cry out warning him that you’re close.

“On your back, wanna see you when you come.” He demands, but there is a softness in his voice, it makes you melt.

His cock momentarily leaves your heat as you lay on your back, looking into his eyes as he hovers over you. Taehyung takes your legs and wraps them around his middle and quickly slips his cock inside you once again. He pace is slower than before, he falls forward, his head meeting the crook of your neck. He’s whispering sweet words in your ear as his fingers find your clit again and you are falling apart.

“You’re so perfect,” he whispers, his voice muffled by your hair.

He begins to thrust into you harder, really fucking hard. His balls slapping against your ass, makes the most delicious noises and you feel his cock reach deep within you, pulling you into your next orgasm, his fingers still never giving up.

“I’m gonna come!” You cry out, your walls squeezing him.

“Baby wait for me, I’m close.” He pants,

“I can’t I can’t” You scream, your eyes screwing shut as your orgasm approaches you.

“You will fucking wait for me baby” It’s a demand. He isn’t asking, he’s telling.

“Be a good girl and,” he thrusts harder and faster, so fucking fast. Your body is being shook with every thrust. “And wait. Can you do that for me?” He continues his assault on your clit.

“Yes, yes.” You cry out, tears pricking your eyes. You want to come so bad, that it physically hurts. But you try to hold it off, you try so fucking hard but he’s fucking you into the next existence.

Taehyung rolls his hips into yours, and you meet him half way. You buck your hips into him as well because you are fucking desperate. You notice his thrusts are less precise, becoming just a bit sloppy. Thank fucking sweet baby Jesus. He’s close.

“Fuck...I like you so much…” He moves into you with desperation, his words falling into your ear as he whispers to you. His hips slapping into you quickly and sloppily.

“Me too, fuck. Me too.” And that’s it. His hips buck into you harshly, stilling. He groans out loudly, coming inside you. “Come.” He demands. His fingers pressing harder onto your clit. And you do. You come so fucking hard. You squeeze him, milking him dry. You whine out, tears leaving your eyes as you slam them shut in pleasure.

“Good girl.”

Then the room is silent besides the pants coming from the two of you. You hum when you feel him slip out of you, he leans back and sits on his heels watching the cum drip out of you. Then he reaches his hand forward and stuffs his fingers inside of your pussy and you yelp out.

“You’re keeping my cum inside you.” His dark eyes staying solely on your heat.

“Yes.” You moan out, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Taehyung’s fingers leave your center and the next thing you feel is his fingers pushing past your lips and him telling you to lick him clean. You are still shaking from your orgasm but you listen. You open your eyes and stare deeply into his while sucking on his fingers. They taste like you, taste like him. Fucking delicious.

Closing your eyes, you even out your breathing. You feel Taehyung get off the bed and the sounds of his footsteps tell you he’s walking to the bathroom. Your eyes stay shut. You just had the best sex of your life with someone…someone like Taehyung. If that isn’t the most magical feeling ever, you don’t know what is. After a few seconds you feel the bed dip, and a warm, damp towelette is being used to clean you up. You open one eye to look at the view.

Taehyung sits on his knees next to you, spreading your legs apart as he wipes your inner thighs. Then very carefully he begins cleaning the real mess. You bite your lip from the sensation, you are incredibly sensitive and you wince. Taehyung’s eyes shoot up to observe you.

“Almost done baby” he whispers, his hand squeezing your knee.

When he’s finished he throws the dirty towel in the hamper and focuses his attention back on you again.

“You should go pee.” He suggests softly, his hand rubbing your knee.

“Can’t move.” You close your eyes again when you hear him chuckle. “Will you come lay with me?” you ask, your eyes still closed.

You feel him shift around until he’s at your side, slipping an arm under your head.

You’re silent for a few moments, just enjoying one another’s presence. He swings his other arm around your waist and pulls you closer.

“y/n, I need to know if you really understand.” Taehyung sighs out. “This wasn’t just sex to me,” he begins. “This was way more than that. Fuck, it felt amazing. How do you feel?”

“Best sex of my life.” You whisper truthfully and Taehyung can’t help but chuckle.

“We were made for each other.” He whispers back. “soulmates, remember?”

And suddenly your heart sinks. This company forced this to happen, didn’t it? This company forced your friendship on him now this? This company—

“Would it be crazy to say I’m falling in love with you?” Taehyung asks quietly. He hears you suck in a sharp breath and he starts to panic. You don’t know what to say.

“Taehyung.” You whisper his name so fucking softly that he closes his eyes in understanding.

“I’ll wait until you’re ready.” He says, pulling you closer into his chest. “Let’s just enjoy our time together, okay? I’m sure we will be out of here soon and then we have the challenges of the real world. So for now, let’s enjoy our little bubble.”

You still don’t know to respond…your heart is still feeling heavy but somehow his ideas sound good.

“Okay.” You yawn out, agreeing with him. You snuggle closer to his chest, inhaling him. You feel your body grow so tired, sleep trying to make its way with you. You feel Taehyung drawing circles on the skin of your back with his fingers and it soothes you beyond belief.

“Y/n?” Taehyung whispers your name but you’re silent. You’ve fallen asleep.

“Fuck.” He says with gritted teeth, “I really am falling in love with you.”

[the-scandalorian]

Tempered Glass: Chapter 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, pining, Din in suspenders, fluff Summary: Din takes a job with his old crew, and you and the kid wait for him on Arvala-7. Notes: Sorry this took me forever!

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

After you left the atmosphere of Tatooine and jumped into hyperspace, Din swiveled his chair around to face you in the copilot’s seat.

“I should take a job. Everything we made went to Peli, and I don’t like being low on credits. There’s a crew I used to run with...I can reach out to them...” he hesitated then added, “but you and the kid can’t come with me.”

“What do you mean I can’t come with you?”

He sighed, shoulders dropping. “I mean, I don’t trust them enough for you and the kid to come.”

“If you don’t trust them, wouldn’t it be better to have backup?”

“I just—,” he looked away, “I don’t want them to know either of you exist.”

“If you don’t trust them, should you be taking a job with them?”

“We don’t have a lot of options.”

“I could get work somewhere. We could go somewhere safe enough for a few weeks. There are some places where I have contacts, and non-bounty hunting work is usually less conspicuous.”

“I don’t think we should stay anywhere that long right now.”

“But—”

“I’ll feel better if you and the kid are safe together.”

“I—”

When he bowed his head in a silent appeal, your determination crumbled.

“Ugh, fine.”

He sighed in relief, reaching out to rest his hand on your knee briefly. His touch was reassuring.

“But, just so you know, this is only going to work once, so don’t think that my staying back with the kid is going to be a regular thing.”

He removed his hand and turned back around to face the viewport.

“I am taking your silence as tacit agreement,” you said to the back of his helmet.

He chose to ignore that, fiddling with the controls instead.

***

Now that you’d both admitted you wanted to stay together, abandoning the pretense of strategy and convenience all together, things were a little off between you and Din. Neither of you were used to being vulnerable, so conversations were slightly stunted again. You found yourself being overly polite, and Din was doing the same.

That first night back on the Crest, he offered you his bunk.

“I’m not taking your bed. You need it to take off your helmet.”

Besides the unshakable lingering chill of the hull, sleeping there wasn’t that bad. You usually slept with every sweater you owned on and that kept you warm enough.

“Use it when I’m not. You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor.”

“Sure, thanks,” you agreed, knowing you’d never take him up on that. You didn’t want to be on a different sleep schedule than he and the kid.

You did try to nap with the kid in Din’s bunk the next day because there wasn’t all that much to do in hyperspace. As soon as you lay down, though, you knew it was a mistake. First of all, it was crazy uncomfortable (somehow not better than the literal floor and the close walls made it slightly claustrophobic), and second—and far more importantly—it smelled overwhelmingly like Din. It smelled like his pine-y soap and beskar and blaster residue and leather and whatever else made up his infuriatingly good scent. It conjured images of crackling fires and golden skin and warm embraces and taut muscles.

Shit.

There was no chance you were going to be able to fall sleep when all you could think about was him.

The kid, on the other hand, was snoozing contentedly beside you. When you’d fully given up on napping, you edged your way out the bunk carefully, doing your best not to wake him.

Din was sitting in the hull on a long crate against the wall, cleaning his blaster, the pieces spread out next to him. Usually, when you were in the hull at the same time, you’d find a place across from him. Instead, you purposefully sat next to him, drawing your knees up to your chest and leaning against the wall.

You decided you were going to push through this awkward phase and make things not weird right there, right then. And you were going to do that the best way you knew how.

He tilted his helmet toward you momentarily then refocused on the blaster in his hand.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” he said, running a rag along the barrel.

“How does one develop a catchphrase? Does it happen organically or is there an iterative brainstorming process?”

Din paused, sighing dramatically, set his blaster and the rag down next to him, and pushed himself back until he was also leaning against the metal wall. His helmet clunked slightly as he relaxed it back. “This is the way is not a catchphrase. It’s a tenet of the Creed.”

“And ‘I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold’ is also a tenet of the Creed?”

He lolled his helmet to the side, looking down at you. “Okay, fine, that one isn’t,” he conceded.

“So you admit it—you have at least one catchphrase that you regularly use on bounties.” You smirked up at him.

Without missing a beat, Din fixed you with that unreadable visor and quipped: “I’ve been told I have a sexy voice. I’m just giving the people what they want.”

Your jaw dropped, a shocked laugh echoing through the hull. You had planned on teasing him and had not expected him to turn it around on you so smoothly.

“Uh... I was sort of hoping we’d stick to our unspoken agreement to not bring up the stupid things I said when I was drunk.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, definitely not.”

You looked back up. “Alright, well then in the name of fairness, we’re going to have to get you really drunk the next time the opportunity presents itself, so we can see what embarrassing things you say.”

He paused for a moment, considering, then said, “Does that mean you’ll carry me home?”

You cracked a smile, nodding vigorously. “Of course. That would only be fair.”

A warm laugh rasped through the modulator. You crossed your ankles in front of you, letting your knee rest against the cold beskar on this thigh.

“I feel skeptical of that promise.” He dropped a gloved hand to your knee.

“Okay, okay I can’t promise to carry you home, but I can promise to tie your shoe if needed.”

“My boots don’t have laces.” He lifted a foot off the ground to show you.

You shrugged playfully: “Well, that’s not my fault.”

“This doesn’t sound like a very good deal for me. I tied your shoe and carried you home.”

“To be fair, both were against my will.”

“But necessary.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I can’t carry you, and I can’t tie your shoe... so I’ll...,” you bit your lip as you fished around for something else to offer, “...hold your hand? And not let anyone tickle you.”

He huffed and rubbed his thumb over your knee: “I’m not ticklish.”

You pursed your lips. “Right, sure, of course not. My mistake.”

He harrumphed. “Can I ask you something now?”

“I’ll allow it,” you intoned seriously.

“Where are you actually from?”

“Naboo. Most of my back story was true—I just left out the one major detail.”

“Your favorite color?” he deadpanned.

You laughed. “Yes, exactly. What about you? Where are you from?”

“Aq Vetina.”

You waited, hoping he’d elaborate.

“When my parents died there, I was rescued by the Mandalorians and raised in the Fighting Corps.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. “That sounds like a tough life for a child.”

“It was all I knew,” he explained, shifting slightly.

“Still, that can’t have been easy. It makes sense that you couldn’t leave the kid.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, solemnly. There was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago.

“Less serious question,” you replied, changing the subject to something lighter.

“Okay.” He relaxed a little.

“Why don’t you ever use a straw to drink with your helmet on?”

“These are the things you think about?” he laughed. His laugh was usually a quiet, muffled sound through the modulator, but it was getting easier to pick up on it. “There’s a seal on the helmet, otherwise the filters wouldn’t work,” he tapped the release on the side of his head. “So a straw isn’t a possibility, unfortunately.”

“Mmm,” you responded, “that is disappointing.”

He gripped your thigh lightly, turning toward you. “I, uh, heard back about the job... while you were asleep. It’s a go.”

“Ah... great. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t hear back.”

“I know. It will be fine.”

“Okay... So, any ideas for where the kid and I should stay?”

To your surprise, Din explained that he had a trusted friend on Arvala-7. When you agreed to the plan, he disappeared to the cockpit to set the nav—a two-day trip.

***

That same evening, you discovered a new favorite activity on the Crest. Before bed, the kid was being particularly fussy, so you pulled out your data pad and downloaded the first children’s book you could find. It worked liked a charm.

From then on, it became a daily routine: you’d read to him until his eyelids drooped before his nap and before bedtime. Regardless of his mood, listening to you read seemed to soothe him. You’d pull him into your lap and settle onto your stack of blankets against the wall. He’d watch your face, enraptured, as you relayed story after story to him. His favorite—the story that elicited the most chirps and grabby motions and ear wiggles—centered on a family of frogs. You revisited that one at least once a day, sometimes more if he was grouchy.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his hyperfixation on that particular story given his appetite for frogs.

At this rate, your digital library was going to be largely children’s books. You didn’t mind.

You noticed that Din would find something to do in the hull while you read. The first couple times, he sat and cleaned one of his many weapons or sewed a hole in his flight suit. Very quickly, he stopped bothering with an ostensible task and would just sit and listen.

When you were still 15 hours out from Arvala-7, Din was seated on his usual crate in the hull, the one next to the weapons cabinet, as you finished the final page of a particularly thrilling story about a snail. The kid was snoring softly in your arms, so you clicked off your datapad, and got up to settle him in his hammock for his mid-day nap.

“You’re good with him.” Din was leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I guess,” you shrugged, snapping the door to Din’s bunk shut and turning back to him. “I just think about what I liked as a kid. I loved when my parents would read to me.”

He nodded, helmet trained on the floor between his boots.

“I’m sorry—” you started, realizing how that must have sounded to Din.

He looked up and cut you off. “Don’t be. It’s nice for him to have some normal kid experiences.”

“You know what he’d really love?”

“What?”

“If you read to him.”

He dipped his helmet slightly in acknowledgement, rolling his shoulders back at the same time like he was uncomfortable agreeing with that.

Several hours later, you pulled Din down next to you in your normal pre-bedtime story time spot. He had the kid in his arms. You switched on your datapad and toggled through the catalog of books you’d downloaded, all of which had colorful covers and silly, whimsical titles, until you found the frog book.

“Here,” you offered, passing it over to him.

You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, listening to Din’s serious, even voice narrate the heartwarming hijinks of a family of frogs. The kid cooed and babbled along.

To your (and the kid’s) utter delight, Din’s rendition slowly evolved into a full-on dramatic reading, complete with sound effects and slightly different voices for each character, as he leaned into whatever prompted the most enthusiastic responses from the kid. You kept your eyes closed and said nothing, worried that if you drew attention to this new development, he’d get self-conscious and stop. You couldn’t help from smiling a little though.

When the story came to its conclusion, you opened your eyes. Din was scrolling through the library of options, browsing for the next book. “What do you think? Which one next?” You looked at him, but he wasn’t asking you. The kid let out a string of gibberish, pointing with a teeny finger. Din read out the titles of several options, selecting the one that triggered the most animated trill.

As Din began the story, he shifted until his body was flush with yours. The places where his beskar made contact with you were cold, even through the fabric of your clothes, but you didn’t mind.

By the time Din finished the second book, the kid was displaying the telltale signs—drooping ears and unfocused eyes—that bedtime had arrived.

Din handed you the datapad and stood to tuck the kid into bed.

As he shut the door to his bunk, you said, “I think you just put me out of a job.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he was pleased.

***

As you got more comfortable around each other, Din took to walking around without his armor—beside his helmet—on. Most of the time, he’d even leave his gloves off. He wore either a flight suit that zipped up the middle or a black shirt and pants...with suspenders. The first few times, it was jarring to see him like that, without his armor. He looked wrong. It was like seeing a turtle without its shell... but if turtles were sexy.

The first time he emerged from his bunk with the suspenders hanging loosely by his sides, you stopped dead, mouth hanging open. He tilted his helmet sharply at you: “What?”

“You sometimes wear suspenders under your armor?”

“...Yes?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you and the goofy grin that spread across your face.

“What?” he prompted again, shoulders pulling up toward his neck.

“I just really wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed.

“What were you expecting?” The playful note in his voice left you flustered. He took a step closer, much more relaxed now that he was the one doing the teasing. He was getting too good at flipping things on you.

Instead of answering—because you were not about to address the fact that you had absolutely thought about what he wore under his armor—you strode up to him and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. He stood uncomfortably still, arms hanging awkwardly by his sides.

“What are you doing?” He looked down at his shirt then back up at you.

“I just want to get the full picture.” You looked him up and down.

“Thought about this a lot, have you?” He quirked his helmet down at you suggestively. It was only the second time you’d gotten that particular flavor of head tilt, and you...didn’t hate it. It made your neck feel hot. You disregarded the intense desire to grab him by the suspenders and jerk him toward you.

Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him, enjoying this new bold flirtation. Without looking away from his visor, you hooked a finger through one of the suspenders and pulled it out a couple inches, letting it snap back against him.

“Ow.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that it obviously hadn’t hurt, but for dramatic effect, he rubbed the spot on his chest where it hit him.

“You’ll survive,” you assured him, patting his shoulder and brushing past him to climb the ladder to the cockpit. When you sat down in the pilot’s seat and kicked your feet up to rest on the console, you still had a smile on your face.

***

A few hours later, you were seated in the copilot seat with the child held tightly in your lap as the Razor Crest descended through the atmosphere of Arvala-7. On the way, Din shared how he’d met this friend—he had helped Din when he was originally tracking down the child months ago.

However, when you asked what his friend’s name was, Din said he didn’t know. Honestly, you weren’t even that surprised. Just exasperated.

Din told you the details of when he tracked down the child, including the assassin droid he'd crossed paths with. He explained how he’d teamed up with IG-11, but in the end, he had to destroy the droid to protect the kid. The anger in his voice was raw when he described watching IG-11 point his blaster at the child.

As the dusty, cracked surface of the planet came into view, you asked, “Is that what caused your thing with droids?”

“What thing?”

“Din.”

He was silent for a long moment.

“Droids destroyed my home planet, killed my parents. They’re the reason I was a foundling as a child.”

His words washed over you, and your heart dropped. You leaned forward in your seat to put a hand on his shoulder. He stayed perfectly still, helmet trained on the controls in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded stiffly and reached up to squeeze your hand briefly.

“We’re about to land.”

You took that as a cue to drop the subject for now.

***

You and Din, the kid in his arms, approached a small collection of low structures. You swept your eyes across the uniform landscape—all was dry and sienna and flat. The Ugnaught’s homestead was the only sign of habitation in sight. The buildings were brown and domed, and windmills creaked slowly in the warm breeze. Three blurrgs in a large corral watched you balefully.

“Mandalorian!” the Ugnaught greeted, emerging from the door of his low home.

“Ugnaught,” Din replied with a nod.

“I did not think I would see you here again. What business brings you back to Arvala-7?”

“I was hoping that my friends could stay with you for a couple nights—I’ll pay you for the lodging.”

Of course he'd refer to me and a literal infant as his "friends."

You introduced yourself, offering your hand.

The Ugnaught bowed his head slightly as he clasped your hand: “It is nice to make your acquaintance. I am Kuill.”

At least Din knows his name now.

Kuill turned back to Din. “The child remains in your care,” he observed.

“Yes,” said Din, offering no explanation. He set the child down on the ground, and he toddled his way slowly over to Kuill.

Kuill scooped up the baby, and he chirruped happily, reaching toward his whiskery mustache.

“It hasn’t grown much.”

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast.”

You shot Din a skeptical look. He’d never shared this particular theory of his with you.

“I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly,” mused Kuill.

You raised your eyebrows at the frankness of his statement. He is not ugly.

“Your friends are welcome to stay with me. No payment will be necessary. I have spoken.” Kuill turned and headed back inside without so much as a backward glance.

“I insist,” Din said to his back.

Kuill disappeared into his home.

Din turned to you: “He does that. Just ends a conversation like that.”

“I understand why the two of you get along so well. Men of few words.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Din nodded, reinforcing your point inadvertently.

You and Din stepped closer to each other at the same time. For the first time, you let the concern you were feeling color your features.

“I’ll be back in three days, if not sooner.”

He was padding his timeline in response to the worry that was etched across your face. You knew Din could defend himself—that wasn’t your fear. It was that, whether he liked to admit it or not, he occasionally let trust blind him. The irony of that wasn’t lost on you, considering how long it had taken for him to trust you. This was the trademark paradox of Din. He was loath to fully let people in, but he had a tendency to take people at face value and assume they would keep their word—because he always kept his word. He had a surprisingly generous worldview for someone with such a violent profession and brutal past.

Din reached down to grab something small that was tucked in his belt—the metal ball from one of the controls in the cockpit that the kid loved to play with. He occasionally pretended to be irritated whenever he wanted to play with it, but you knew he found it endearing.

He handed it to you. “He’ll want that.”

You smiled and nodded, looking at the sphere in your palm. Din raised a hand to your chin and tilted your face back up to his.

Do we... hug? He doesn’t seem like a hugger.

So instead, you offered, “Be careful, okay?”

“I will,” he promised. He stayed there for a moment longer, looking at you and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. Before you could decide if you should also try to hug him, he turned abruptly to walk back to the Crest.

You stayed and watched him as he walked the distance back to the ship and disappeared up the ramp. You stayed and watched as the Razor Crest rumbled to life and took off. You stayed and watched as it ascended through the atmosphere and vanished from view.

***

It was a relief to be off the ship for a few days—even if Arvala-7 wasn’t exactly your ideal planet. It would be a treat to eat real food, instead of shelf-stable ration packs, and to have more than the limited space of the ship to move around in... not to mention an actual bed.

Kuill was a kind and welcoming host. He offered you his spare room, where you placed your things, and you sat down for tea together in his small kitchen.

“How did you come to be in the company of the Mandalorian and the child?”

“I guess he has a soft spot for people who are wanted by the Empire?” you chuckled, and Kuill nodded somberly. “Now, we’re just helping each other out.” You weren’t really sure how else to explain it.

Kuill didn’t press you anymore than that, nodding sagely. Instead, while you sipped your tea with the kid on your lap, he told you about his background—decades of indentured servitude to the Empire before he worked off his debt and bought his freedom—in the solemn, frugal way that was clearly characteristic of the Ugnaught. You understood why Din trusted him: he was forthright, calm, wise.

“What can I help you with while I’m here?” you asked, already anxious to find something to occupy your time.

“You are my guest. You do not need to do any work.”

“I would be happy to,” you insisted. “I would rather be busy. I can help with cleaning or repairs—whatever you need. My formal training was in programming, but I’ve picked up general skills along the way.”

Kuill nodded and said, “Come.”

He turned and walked out of his house. You set down your tea on the table and followed him, the child tucked in the crook of your elbow, happily clutching the silver ball. Kuill stopped in front of the workstation that was a short distance from his doorway. Tools and wiring and various speeder parts were arranged on and around a long workbench and a collection of smaller tables and shelves. The circular backdrop of the workbench was the repurposed window of a TIE fighter.

An assassin droid was laid across the tabletop.

“Is this the droid that Mando shot?”

“I believe so, yes. It was left behind, in the Mandalorian’s wake of destruction. I found it lying where it fell—devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remains of its neural harness. Reconstruction will be quite difficult.”

“What are your plans for it?”

“To convert it from an assassin droid to something more useful: a protocol and nurse droid.”

You nodded. “Handy.”

“I will have to reconstruct the neural harness, and then it will have to relearn every function from scratch. It will be a blank slate on which to program something nurturing instead of destructive. You may help me restore him if you would like.”

“Of course.”

The two of you got to work.

***

That night, when you lay down to sleep, you tossed and turned. The child was snuggled in a makeshift crib next to your bed. You found yourself sitting up periodically to check on him. Every time you checked on him, he was sleeping soundly.

Eventually, you slipped out of your bed, tiptoed quietly through the house, and walked out into the cold, clear night. You walked aimlessly for a while, circling the corral of blurrgs. They were asleep, eyes shut tight, standing in a close clump. Then you turned to head out across the open plain and watch the stars through the thin veil of clouds that dusted the sky.

You were starting to regret that you hadn’t pushed harder to go with Din. He was with a whole team of people who sounded untrustworthy at best, malicious at worst. You couldn’t help but think of all the things you should have said to him before he left. You hadn’t even hugged him.

It was freaking you out a little just how attached you were to a man who you’d known for a couple months.

You walked until the chill of the night air became too much, then turned back.

In the morning, you sat at Kuill’s kitchen table again, feeding the child. Kuill moved around the small food prep area, pulling together breakfast and making tea.

You followed Kuill as he went about his daily jobs, caring for the blurrgs, doing routine maintenance, and continuing the work on IG-11.

You were sweating in the sun, hands covered in grease, concentrating on refitting a damaged arm joint when Kuill’s calm voice brought you out of your train of thought.

“It is curious that the Mandalorian elected to keep the child.”

You looked up at him. “He secretly has a soft heart,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“Yes, that much is clear, but he is also set in his beliefs, and this choice went against the Guild Code. What is curious is that such a small being could inspire a change of heart in such a rigid person.”

You considered his words.

“I... think he was just waiting to find a greater purpose than hunting, to find someone to love, you know? It comes naturally to him, but I don’t think he’d ever had the chance.”

Kuill hummed thoughtfully. “Is that not what we are all doing—looking for a greater purpose?”

“I guess?” You shrugged.

“And have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead.

“Have you found the greater purpose you were looking for?”

You considered for a moment then said, “Well... I found a purpose a long time ago, when I joined the Alliance, and since then, I’ve been too busy trying to escape the wrath of the Empire to really think about what’s next in the larger sense... Staying alive has been the main priority.”

Kuill hummed again, glancing over at the kid. “You weren’t looking for something greater, but it appears to have found you.”

“I...,” you started. You watched the child, who was siting on the hard ground admiring the silver ball clutched in his hand. “I’m not sure.”

“I have spoken,” said Kuill, bowing his head, and he lapsed back into silence.

You watched the kid as he dropped the ball and staggered to his feet, squealing excitedly as he chased a lizard that darted past him. You wondered where Din was at this exact moment, and your heart squeezed in a familiar way.

***

The second night was much like the first. You walked outside for some time, thinking of all the awful things that could be happening to Din.

What if they turn on him?

What if another hunter finds him?

What if he doesn’t come back?

It wasn't a crazy thought. You were used to people not coming back.

Until that moment, you hadn't considered that you'd be the sole guardian of the kid if Din didn't return. For a split second, you felt the crushing weight of responsibility for the life and safety and happiness of the tiny green child that Din must feel at all times.

Eventually you fell into a fitful sleep, waking early, and the day dawned bright and cold. As the sun climbed, the chill rapidly dissipated, making way for a dry heat that seemed to be the only weather condition on Arvala-7.

You spent the morning helping Kuill continue the repairs on IG-11. You did your best to not count the hours that slipped by. He’d said it could take three days, so there was no reason to be concerned yet.

But... did he mean he would return ON the third day? Or the fourth day?

And for that matter... did the day he left count as day one? Or was yesterday day one?

Did he mean seventy-two hours from the time he left? Or that he’d be back at the start of the third day?

How did I not clarify this before he left??

That evening, you were in deep in discussion about artificial intelligence when Kuill said, “I believe your Mandalorian has returned to you.” He pointed behind you, and you whipped around to see the Crest touching down in a cloud of dust in the distance.

“Will you—?” you asked, turning back to Kuill.

“I will watch the child.” He seemed vaguely amused by your enthusiasm.

You sprang to your feet and walked as fast as you could toward the Crest. You briefly considered running, but that felt dramatic. He’d only been gone a couple days.

Why did he land so fucking far away?

You’d made it about half the distance when the ramp of the Crest finally began to lower with a hiss. Your resolve snapped, and you started to jog. Din descended the ramp, and you were so relieved to see him that you weren’t even embarrassed anymore that you were literally running to him.

Din cocked his head—a curious head tilt—when he saw you sprinting at him across the dusty ground. He paused at the bottom of the ramp.

“Are you—?” he started to say as you crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He barely budged upon impact.

His shoulders relaxed immediately, and he pulled you tight against him.

Well, if he wasn’t a hugger before, he is now.

“I’m okay,” he reassured you.

“Good,” you said into the fabric bunched around his neck.

After a moment, you released him and stepped back, the steadying weight of his hands remaining on your arms. He looked like he was in one piece, but the slight heaviness in his shoulders told you that the job had taken a toll on him.

“I, uh, missed you too,” he said, a little awkwardly.

You smiled at him and took his gloved hand in yours to walk back towards Kuill’s home. You felt slightly giddy that you were casually holding the Mandalorian’s hand. He seemed taken by it too, his helmet tilted down to where your fingers were intertwined.

“The kid?” he asked, looking up to your face.

“He’s good. Misses you, I think. Ate several frogs. And one lizard. The usual. He is disgusting,” you laughed.

Din made a sound that you would almost swear was a snort. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed fondly.

Kuill was waiting outside his home, the child in his arms. When you and Din were close, Kuill set him down, and the baby tottered over to wrap his tiny arms around Din’s calf.

You watched as Din bent stiffly, slowly to pick up the kid.

“You’re hurt,” you realized.

“I'm fine,” he said.

You felt sure that wasn’t true, but you let it be for the moment.

“Thank you,” Din addressed Kuill. He reached into the pouch of his belt for credits.

“I will not accept payment,” Kuill insisted, shaking his head. “In fact, your friend here helped me make great progress on my current project.” Kuill raised his eyebrows at you.

“Very well,” Din acquiesced.

You gathered your things and said your thank yous and goodbyes, returning to the Crest, which—with a jolt—you realized was already starting to feel like home.

***

Chapter 8

***

Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme @beskarhearts @bookloverfilmoholic @elinedjarin @eury-dice3 @dincrypt @dunderr @honey-hi @jagi-yaaa @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @mbpokemonrulez @red-leaders @speakerforthedead0 @tuskens-mando @spideysimpossiblegirl @theflightytemptressadventure @ubri812 @zoemariefit

If you want to be added or removed, let me know!

[ibis-gt]

hello i have written an au based on @unicornofgt 's fantastic gtms series! please go read that if you haven't yet, it's a real fun ride.

2500 words, warnings for swearing, brief gore and violence.

~~~~~

Cam woke up. It was still dark out, though, so he decided he’d try and go back to sleep before his alarm clock went off. He went to roll over and pull the covers up, and realized there were no covers because he wasn’t in bed, or even lying down. He was on his feet and he could feel his arm was outstretched, hand curled into a fist as though he’d just thrown a punch. Then he became aware of a little voice screaming in his head. Or, maybe right in front of his head? It sounded frustrated and scared.

“Why can’t I move? Why isn’t anything working!? Oh, shit, it’s getting up, left left go LEFT goddamn it!”

Left? Cam knew which way was left. Should he go left? He sidled that way slowly, unsure of what else to do. He still couldn’t see, it was too dark out, and he didn’t know who the voice belonged to or what it was talking about.

Suddenly, something slammed hard into his right shoulder, spinning him around, and he heard the voice scream in panic. There was the screech of something sharp scrabbling against metal. Whatever had hit him was hanging on, trying to drag him to the ground. He widened his stance and leaned away from it, trying to counterbalance to keep on his feet. The voice cried out again.

“Shit, shake it off, c’mon! Watch out for the tail - hand up! Now!” Cam threw his free hand out in front of himself and felt something slam into it - the tail, he supposed.

“There! Good! Now pull it off!” He got a grip on the tail and tugged as hard as he could. The weight against his right side lessened, and finally with one last metallic screech came free as he tossed it away.

“Oh, god, what the hell? Did we switch to voice controls mid-battle and no one told me? I hate this army. Ok, fine. Forward!”

Army? Battle? Voice controls? Cam’s head was spinning, his adrenaline was pumping, and he still couldn’t see. Following the voice had to be his best option. If they were in a fight, it was his only chance of getting out alive. He made himself march forward, but he was still hesitant. It was one thing to grab for things you couldn’t see, but walking when you couldn’t tell what was in front of you was nerve-wracking. There could be a big pit or something right in front of him, and he’d never know.

“Forward, c’mon, I need to get to it before it gets up! Move!”

Well, the voice would tell him if he was going to step in something, wouldn’t it? It seemed like its survival depended on him defeating whatever that thing that had hit him was. He moved forward with more confidence, picking up the pace and breaking into a jog.

“Slow down, we’re right on top of it! Stomp!”

Cam skidded to a halt and lifted his foot. He hesitated for one moment - what if he missed? - and the voice came back.

“LIttle to the right… there you go. Down! Hard!”

He brought his foot down. Something crunched and splattered underneath it. Cam felt bile rise in his throat as he realized he had no idea what - or who - he’d just stomped on. What if that was another person’s head? He’d assumed whoever it was had been trying to kill him, but he didn’t know. What if they just wanted to subdue him? Why were they fighting?

“Give it another one, just in case,” the voice said. Cam recoiled in horror and took several steps back, and the voice called out in confusion. “What? What’s going on?”

To hell with this. Now that Cam had a moment to think, he could feel something around his head. It wasn’t dark out, there was something covering his eyes. He tried to put a hand on his face and hit some smooth, flat surface. The voice whimpered.

Cam reached up with both hands and felt around his head. Some kind of helmet thing, it felt like. He got a grip on the sides and pulled. It resisted at first, like it was tethered in place, but he gave it a twist and yanked, and whatever had been holding it snapped. He pulled his head free and gasped in fresh air. Fresh-ish air. Better than the stale stuff stuck in the helmet, at least.

He turned the helmet over in his hands, giving it a curious once-over, and stared at the front plate. There was a window that showed a little cockpit, complete with a little chair surrounded by controls. Sitting in the chair was the tiniest man Cam had ever seen. He was probably just about the size of Cam’s thumb. He looked absolutely terrified.

The little man screamed. It startled Cam enough that he screamed too, starting and tossing the helmet in the air. He fumbled for it, knocking it from hand to hand for a moment, before narrowly catching it before it hit the ground.

“Oh, shit, shit, shit, I’m sorry,” Cam said, and turned it back around to see the little man. He’d gone limp and pale, eyes closed, mouth hanging open a little. Must’ve fainted.

“This is so bizarre,” he murmured. “I mean, I had a tiny man controlling me?” He looked up, finally taking note of his surroundings. He was standing in a burned out, desolate city, buildings smoking and crumbling, cars strewn about the street like discarded toys. As Cam looked around, he came to a horrifying realization. The man in the helmet wasn’t tiny. Cam was huge. He dwarfed the nearest buildings. He could track his footsteps by the crater-like prints left in the street.

“O… kay. Okay. I don’t remember being this tall.” Cam laughed nervously, unsure of what to do. Then he caught sight of what he’d been fighting.

Whatever its head had looked like, it was impossible to tell. Cam’s boot had smashed it into gory chunks. Its body was leonine, four legs and paws with razor sharp claws, but with a long, thick, almost lizard-like tail that ended in spikes. A thagomizer, Cam thought. The word came to him unbidden, and he didn’t know how he knew it. He realized suddenly that he didn’t know a lot of things. His name was Cam. Was that his first name or his last name? Did he have another name, too? He couldn’t remember. How old was he? Where was he from? How had he gotten here? Where was here? The questions were piling up, and he had no answers for any of them. His hands still clutching the helmet began to shake. There was no time to freak out, though, he had to keep his cool. If there was one monster, there could be more of them. As if on cue, a chorus of growls kicked up some distance away. Cam tucked the helmet under one arm and started to sprint. He’d get out of the city, find someplace quiet, wake up the little man, and get some answers.

~~~

Luther stirred, eyes slowly blinking open. Somehow he’d fallen asleep in his pilot chair, and he was stiff and sore as hell. He sat up, stretching, and then everything flooded back to him. Oh god. His mech. FM-609. It wasn’t a mech at all, it was a person, and they had taken him off and looked at him. Had they known all along? Had they just been following orders til they suddenly decided not to? What the hell was going on?

Looking out of the windshield, Luther could see that the helmet was sitting upright on the ground. He was surrounded by the dusty, rocky plains, no living soul in sight. Maybe he’d been left behind? The helmet had no power on its own, so he couldn’t call back to the base for help. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to. He couldn’t just stay here, either, that was a death sentence for sure. Luther slowly eased himself out of the chair and down to the ground. It was early evening, the sun just starting to set, dusk settling over everything. He took a few shaky steps forward, then found his legs and started to sprint.

“Whoa!” A voice thundered behind him. Luther gasped, adrenaline kicking in, spurring him to run faster. A shadow fell over him, and he had only a moment to choke out a shuddering sob before fingers longer than he was tall wrapped around him, lifting him high up into the air. Luther kicked and struggled, tears spilling down his cheeks, as he was turned to face the giant who’d been inside of his mech. The sheer scale of the man took Luther’s breath away. He was sitting down, legs crossed, still wearing the mech suit. Those intense eyes bored into him, neon blue and literally glowing, like headlights in the growing dark.

“Hey, hey, hey,” the man said. He seemed to be trying to keep his voice low and soothing, but it wasn’t doing much to calm Luther down. “You’re okay, I’m not going to hurt you, I just have some questions.”

“I - I’m sorry,” Luther choked, “I didn’t - I didn’t know - I didn’t know you were in there.”

“You didn’t know,” the man echoed, his voice flat.

“And that, that doesn’t excuse it, I’m not - I just, I - ,” Luther broke off, his sobs distorting his voice too much to be understood.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” the man tried. “That’s okay. Here - maybe this is better.”

Luther shrieked as the hand opened, letting him slip free, but instead of plummeting to the ground so far below, he fell harmlessly into the man’s waiting palm. He scrambled backwards, trying to get away, but only bumped up against the man’s curled fingers. Luther froze, chest heaving, mind racing, trying to think of what to do next.

“Okay,” the man said again. “Let’s start over. What’s your name?”

“L-luther,” Luther breathed. “Luther Algers.”

“Luther. Hi, Luther, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Cam.”

“Cam…?” Luther prompted. Cam frowned.

“Um… just Cam, I think.”

“Is that… is that short for anything?”

Cam shrugged. “Just Cam. I don’t remember anything else. That’s, uh, that’s actually what I wanted to ask you about. I don’t remember anything before I woke up in this suit of armor. Actually…” Cam’s face screwed up with the effort of remembering. “I remember a voice. I think it was yours, it sounds about the same. Just bits of it, though, always talking about a fight. You were using me to fight those monsters, right?”

“I’m sorry,” Luther whimpered. He shrank further back, hopelessly aware that it did him no good. Cam surrounded him on all sides. If he wanted Luther dead, all he would have to do was squeeze…

“No, it’s okay,” Cam sighed. “I’m not mad. Well, I’m not mad at you. I assume someone put you in that suit, right? And they didn’t tell you there was a person inside it.”

“No, they didn’t. I mean, yes, they gave me the mech, but no, they never said… you know. They told me you were a robot designed to fight nemeans.”

“Nemeans?”

“That’s what we call those lion-looking monsters, the thing we killed today,” Luther explained. “You were really good at it.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I always kind of wondered, you know… if the mechs were robots built to a schematic, why did they all look sort of different? Different builds, I mean. Like people. But if they were constructs, wouldn’t it be easier to build them all the same, so you don’t have to get specialized parts to repair them?” He sighed. “I guess I know why now. But I don’t know how… Have you always been giant?”

“Not as far as I can tell,” Cam said. “I mean, like I said, I don’t remember anything before. But when I woke up in the city it all looked wrong. Like a scale model instead of a real place. I guess that means I’m used to being your height?”

“Or that there’s secretly a giant civilization built to your scale that humanity has somehow never discovered, and then the government found it and covered it up, and used its citizens as military weapons,” Luther supplied helpfully.

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, then simultaneously burst out laughing. The absurdity of the situation was just too much for them.

“Yeah, I bet it’s that,” Cam said, wiping a tear from one eye. “Whoo. Okay. You’re a card, Luther, you know that?”

Luther smiled despite himself. “I try.” He’d relaxed considerably over the course of their conversation. He took a moment to look Cam over. Long, dark hair spilled over his shoulders. A thick beard and moustache covered the lower half of his face. His features were all impressive - huge, pointed nose, thick eyebrows, strong cheekbones, strong jaw, softened a little by fat. He was quite handsome, when Luther really looked at him. Those eyes, though - those glowing eyes. Those were unsettling.

Luther’s expression sobered, and he sat up a little. “What do we do now?”

Cam sighed and leaned back. “Well… we can’t go back to the military, they’d probably throw me right back in a suit and lock you up for exposing their secrets. We’ve got to be on their radar at least, since we just up and disappeared. I’d like to get this armor off me as soon as possible, because it��s really heavy and uncomfortable. And then… how much do you know about this area?”

Luther looked around, getting his bearings a little more. “A bit. There should be some groups of rogues around here - bandits, thieves, outcasts, the like. We could try to join up with them. They’d have food, at least, and they’d probably welcome the kind of protection you could give.” He looked back up at Cam. “I mean, if you want to. I’d understand if you never want to fight again. This has got to be horrible for you… Oh god, I’ve been so focused on myself I didn’t even realize…” Luther got unsteadily to his feet, finding it difficult to stand on the soft, uneven surface of Cam’s hand. He took a few steps towards Cam’s thumb and all but fell on it, wrapping his arms around it in the facsimile of a hug.

“Are you okay?” Luther asked, looking up at Cam with real concern on his tiny face.

Cam stared down at him. All he’d thought about up until now was how to guarantee his own survival. He’d bottled up any feelings he had about being used as a weapon, he didn’t have time to break down, he needed to get to safety and figure out what was going on. But now, in this moment of calm, with this person caring so genuinely for him, it all spilled out. Tears welled up in Cam’s eyes and spilled down his cheeks. A huge, choking sob rose in his throat.

“No,” he quavered, hands beginning to shake. “I’m not.”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Princess | JJ Maybank

Warnings; jealousy, mentions of drugs, and use of drugs.

Find my masterlist here

She was rising through the ranks on figure eight, and soon, she would overtake the one, the only, Sarah Cameron. It was infuriating, no one had heard of this prissy girl in a while, and here she was, already beginning to replace the blonde.

“Uh.” Sarah groaned, noticing how even her brother was flocking over you, even Topper had returned to the dark side after his helpful stunt.

“What’s wrong Cameron?” JJ asked her, following her eyeline, and carrying his gaze along it, until he found the centre of her irritable - a group of kooks, her own.

“The princess is back in town.” She groaned, noticing how you walked through your entourage, oblivious to any of the pogues that resided on this side of the island. It was as though you didn’t hold a grudge against their species, but that was her thing, you were just trying to copy her actions.

Hell, for all she knew, you’d hook up with a southsider too, and attend the parties at the boneyard as though you were one of their own.

She knew her attitude towards you was petty, but she just couldn’t help it. You now had everything that she had lost, she was even stared down by her dad and step mother, both of whom were mildly disappointed in the side that she had taken within the whole ordeal.

“I thought that was you.” JJ noticed how her mood had turned sour, and he was aware that it was his duty to cheer her up. If John B returned with their drinks, and saw that his girlfriend was displeased, he would be the one to take the blame as it was his company that was keeping her from boredom.

“That girl.” She pointed you out, JJ’s eyes scanning every dip and curve, each mark and mole, upon your body, memorising every inch of- “is the kook. Used to have the mantle of princess before I did. Don’t dirty your hands with her Maybank, she’s a spoilt brat, and whatever she wants, she gets.”

“A kook? Not my type.” He assured her, the whole form of your beautiful being crumbling in his eyes, all because of what you essentially were. A golden finger, in the dirt of his home.

🏹

The Cameron’s house was large, but you smiled, knowing that you lived in one with a bigger foundation, and more floors. Material items were value on the island, it gave way to status.

“Hi Mr Cameron.” You greeted him, with a pristine smile that would knock him dead. Rafe was beside you, content with your obliviousness to the things that he had done.

His father had told him to find a rich, pretty thing. They were the least suspecting ones, too occupied with spending cash and dolling themselves up. It is what he himself had done, after he had worked his way up to kook status, but the wife he now had, well she was as devious and power hungry as him. They fit perfectly.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve heard a lot about you, not only from my son but practically the whole island. Is it good to be back?” He shook your hand, noticing the small smile slip onto his son’s face.

“It’s great, nowhere is quite like home.” The hierarchy on Outer Banks was its most predominant feature, no where else quite had an order that lacked most of itself in the same way.

“I need to talk to Rafe here for a moment, would you mind waiting here?” He expectedly asked, and once more, you could only plaster on a false expression, and happily nod.

“Not at all.” Was your reply, and as soon as they had disappeared, you were left awaiting for their return. You plucked at the skin around your nails, and tapped your foot, trying to reduce the enveloping silence that made you feel small and anxious.

Another person entered the room, making you slowly spin to greet them. It was Sarah, and a look of worry crossed over her face, it was quite amusing. The Sarah Cameron, was concerned for you.

“Rafe isn’t a good guy.” She spoke slowly, thinking that you were interested in her older sibling. It made you quirk your eyebrow in surprise, you had never expected her to talk about her family to you, or at all in general. “You can do a lot better.”

“Don’t worry Sarah, I don’t want him, nor do I want to be the so called ‘princess’ of this wealthy establishment. I hate figure eight, it sucks. It’s boring, it’s just parties here, and parties there, but they’re all sophisticated and you have to dress nicely. Sure, the luxury is great, the expectations of washing your hair every day, wearing perfume that literally burns my eyes, and having to dress so- ugh, it’s just gross. You can take the throne back if you want, it’s not too comfortable, it squeezes me in all th wrong places.”

Your paragraph of speech left Sarah in shock, you had been faking it all along. The laughs were all pretend, the smiles were all forced, and she no doubt had one thing left on my mind. “Then why, out of all the kooks, are you hanging it with my brother?”

Nonchantly you shrugged, a sparkle flaring in your eyes. “He thinks he’s gonna get laid, and so until he realises that he isn’t, and he can’t touch this hot bod, then I get free weed.”

“Well played y/l/n, well played.” Nobody had used Rafe and had to give nothing in return, yet you had found the perfect trick.

“He also thinks I’m a virgin, sooooo, my contract is going to last a while, I suppose.” She almost laughed at that, she wondered how you had given him that impression in the first place. Before you had moved, she had seen you makeout and consentually grope countless guys, leading them to dark corners and your empty car.

It wasn’t something that she had ever admit, but for the first time in her life, she thought that you’d make the perfect friend. You sounded just like a pogue, but instead you were living the ‘high life’, and rolling in the cash and smokes that were thrown your way, with no charge.

🏹

JJ on instinct, creased his face up at the sight of Sarah leaving John B and the others at the boneyard, only to walk over to an intruder. She had told him that she didn’t like her, however her stride and smile supposed otherwise.

“Who’s that?” John B leant over his friend’s shoulder, watching his girlfriend interact with a stranger.

“The kook princess.” JJ informed him, spitting the name out of his mouth, glaring at the kook that had the nerve to once again, walk onto his side of his island. And not only that, but to invite herself to the party.

“She got a name?” John B asked, and that was when JJ realised, that he didn’t know it. Before you had moved, you kept to your side of the island, but the times were changing, with relationships and friendships between pogues and kooks beginning. All you wanted was to be accepted, and if they didn’t like the fact that you were born a kook, then that was most definitely their problem.

“Hey, I’m so glad that you could make it.” Sarah greeted you, you shyly smiled, still not familiar with her being so polite to you. You’d notice her cast you the stink eye on more than one occasion, and how she would speak about you at school in the time prior to your move away.

“I still don’t understand why you invited me.” You honestly said, uncertain by her intentions. If she had other motivations, then you could deal with them, she wouldn’t be the first one to try and challenge you for your position. And either way, you didn’t want it, it were only a weight on your shoulders, but some kooks wanted you to remain their royalty, and so by their reputation, you did.

You pulled a blunt from your shorts pocket, and lit it, inhaling slowly and awaiting an answer from the relaxant. It calmed you, and made the thoughts of being the only kook here, excluding Sarah, go away.

“I want you to meet my friends.” She spoke, and you nodded, more entertained by the smoke that rolled out of your mouth than her intentions. Her hand grabbed your own, and she began to drag you through the sea of people, until she reached a small fire pit, where four people were sat.

You already knew of them, John B being the one on your side of the island the most. It of course was because of Sarah, and her successful attempts to seduce him, and sneak him into her room.

“This is y/n.” She told them, and you didn’t notice the way JJ focused on the weed that hung from the clasp of your fingers. He was surprised by the consumption you had of it, and watched intently as you went in for another puff.

You weren’t just a kook, you were a stoner. Perhaps the two of you had something in common after all, maybe you weren’t this spoilt brat entirely.

🏹

“Pass me the goddamn lighter J!” You beckoned at the blonde, who held the red automatic match out of your reach. On instinct, you crossed your arms, and poured, causing the boy to laugh.

“Don’t do that, you look like a spoiled kook.” His words only earnt himself a glare, and so he reached down, plucked your blunt between his fingers, and lit it. He took a puff before placing it between your own lips. “Technically we just kissed.”

“Geez, I really am spoilt.” You rolled your eyes, as the pair of you stood out of the chateau, where it was the two of you alone. Everyone else was inside, watching a movie, and they didn’t want to get high off the fumes, instead they’d rather remember the ‘cinematic details’, as Pope put it.

“It was a joke Princess.” He rubbed your head, messing up your hair, but he knew that you didn’t care. Appearances weren’t your most entailed feature, you only dressed up to the nines to please your parents. But here, with him and the rest of your friends, you could be yourself. You weren’t a kook or a pogue, instead you were just y/n.

“You need to stop going on about kissing me Maybank, otherwise I might think that it’s something you actually want to do.” You smirked, noticing how his cheeks reddened slightly, and the normally confident male gulped.

“Well...” before he could say more, you lightly pushed him, but he soon grabbed you, and the blunt out of your mouth. “Maybe I do.”

“Maybe I want you to as well.” You flirted with him, eyes darting between where he was licking his lips, and the blunt that was gently held in the pads of his fingertips. “Tell you what, if I gift you with a kiss, I get my property back.”

“Princess you gotta stop that, you can’t call me your property, I’m a person too babes.” You groaned at that, he knew full well what you were speaking about, but he had to be a tease in every conversation that the pair of you had.

“Shut your mouth pogue.” Your words weren’t what shut him up, instead you grasped the fabric of his baggy, sleeveless shirt, and pulled his mouth to your own, your tongue instantly prying its way towards his own, breaking through the seal of his lips.

Distracted, he dropped the blunt, and cupped both sides of your face. He was in heaven, finally he had given into the kook, and vice versa. He was glad to have learnt your name, and everything that you had to offer.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

[jeongvision]

bandaids

synopsis. in the midst of finals season, where routine takes over your lifestyle, you find solace in the voice of your most important person that always seem to know when you’re at your breaking point.

pairing. boyfriend! kim doyoung ✗ student! fem! reader

genre. fluff, angst, slice of life, hurt/comfort, college au, non idol au, established relationship au

word count. 1.8k words

warnings. cursing, mentions of anxiety, depictions of a mental breakdown

song. bandaids by keshi

author’s note. after looking at my calendar, it has come to my attention that it’s that time of the year: finals season. i just want to let all of you know that you are doing a great job. you made it this far and i’m proud of you. i promise you, you will get through this. hopefully this could give comfort in the midst of your studies. love you all.

friends of flowers fragile silence stand beside you stop your crying

If there is one thing that all college students could agree on, it’s that finals seasons are the absolute worst thing to ever go through in college. You’re constantly spending every night at the library with your eyes glued onto your textbooks, your brain rushing to keep up in retaining all the pertinent information needed for your exams. You’re devoting hours onto your laptop with your fingers typing away on your keyboard, internet tabs and pages cluttering your screen as you rush to reach the minimum page count required for your courses.

So many times you have declined all your friends’ requests for study dates or a simple get-together because you just don’t have the luxury to. As much as you’d love to take a break from your studies, you feel like you’re running out of time. It has gotten to the point where your boyfriend has to remind you every now and then to take breaks as he gets concerned for your well-being. And just when you thought you were done with one exam or assignment, you look back on your planner only to find out that there’s more to complete. It’s like your pile just doesn’t seem to lessen with each passing day, your mentality on the brink of collapse.

Just where is the end to all of this?

You are currently perched over your desk, packets of case studies splayed out on top of your corrections textbook. Your laptop screen shines bright at the corner, documents filled with infinitesimal texts and numbers. To your right lies your essential oil diffuser, planted right on your nightstand with fumes of aroma wafting through the air. You took your best friend’s suggestion in purchasing an aromatherapy diffuser to help relieve some stress you’ve accumulated from your studies. Lavender should help out, she said. But to your dismay, you don’t feel a single ounce of it lifting from your shoulders. Forcing your brain to believe its effective properties only puts your head more into a strain.

That’s when you felt a sharp pain rip through your skull. ‘Great,’ you groaned to yourself, ‘another fucking headache.’ You dropped your pen on your notebook and rubbed your fatigued eyes, the pressure from your fingertips massaging away. “God, I can’t wait for this semester to be over with already.”

Crossing your arms, you found your phone lying in the middle of your bed. You forgot that you left it on ‘do not disturb’, finally realizing why you didn’t hear your phone ring in the past few hours. You grabbed your phone off your bed. 2:58 am, it reads. Unlocking your phone, you skimmed through your notifications, your fingers swiftly responding to certain messages cluttered up in your phone until you reached to this one particular conversation:

hey babe (sent by doie <3, 11:01pm)

hope you’re eating your meals and drinking water (sent by doie <3, 11:01pm)

just want to let you know that i’m proud of you (sent by doie <3, 11:02pm)

always am and always will (sent by doie <3, 11:02pm)

love you (sent by doie <3, 11:02pm)

You could feel a smile blooming on your lips. It has been a while since you’ve seen Doyoung, let alone hear his voice. Is it too late to call him? ‘He might be sleeping,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Should I?’ Biting your lip, you mustered up the courage and decided to call him. Placing your phone against your ear, you awaited his call. The sound reverberates through your eardrums, the anticipation of having your call picked up diminishing with each passing ring. And just when you were about to give up, the tune stops short on its last ring.

“Hello?” a deep voice croaks.

You softly smile at the sound of his voice. “Hey,” you whispered. “Did I… wake you up?”

“No, no.” You hear him shuffling on his end, to what you could assume to be from his movements in his bed sheets. “Not at all, baby.” You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, touched over the fact he’s easing your guilt of awakening him from his much-needed slumber. “What’s wrong? You need something?”

You shrugged your shoulders, a habit you’ve developed when talking on the phone with someone. “No, not really.” You run your fingers through your hair before rubbing the nape of your neck. “I just missed you, that’s all.”

He lets out a tired chuckle. “I missed you, too.”

You hum a little, “How are your finals?”

He scoffs. “Shit.”

“Not surprised,” you giggled. “You only have one more left, right?”

“Yeah. Chem 4. After that, I’m ready to sleep for a whole week straight.”

“Can I join you in your sleeping session?”

“You most certainly can.”

You both shared a laugh, your mind finally distracted from the strenuous documents that resided on top of your desk. “I call dibs on being the small spoon.”

He chortles. “You’re funny.”

“Hey! It’s only fair.”

“That’s what you said when you ate my share of fries the other week.”

His voice was much livelier than before, fully awakened from his rest now. You missed the jolly feeling you’d get when you talked to him. All those days and nights spent by his side where nothing else mattered in the world except for your boyfriend, whispering loving affirmations to you just like always. You really did miss him, and you can’t wait for this semester to be over to spend quality time with him again.

“Hey, y/n?” he called out.

“Hm?”

“You know that all I ever ask of you is to be honest with me?”

Your smile drops. You know where this is going, and frankly, you’re not sure if you’re ready to have this conversation again. Time after time, he would start a conversation with that question followed by his ongoing concerns wrapped in his mind. Sometimes he would ask for your second opinion, but most of the time they were diverted to you, his forever lover. And you knew this time, this is going to be about you.

Your free hand fiddled with the ends of your finger as you chew on your lip again, your eyes peering down to your lap.

“... yes,” you murmured.

You could hear your heart beating through your ears, the silence deafening the space that encompassed you around. Neither one of you uttered a sound to the other, too afraid to whisper through the thick tension planted in the air. Outside your dorm, there are muffled footsteps fading in and out by your door, most likely from your dorm neighbors coming back from another one of their library sessions. He lets out a soft sigh on his end, not one filled with annoyance, but filled with worry, his attention all focused onto you.

“... are you okay?”

And just like that, you felt the dam inside you crumble to ashes. The mask that you’ve held from the past few weeks is finally dissolving, the facade released from its shackles. Weeks of putting up a front, telling yourself that everything is okay, is now coming to end. ‘I’m fine,’ you would say to yourself. ‘This is nothing, I can handle this myself.’

Oh but darling, there’s only so much you could take in. Not everyone is perfect, and not everyone is indestructible. May we all be human, for we laugh, cry, smile, frown, scream, shout, cheer.

Tears burned through your eyelids, blurring your line of vision as you tried to hold yourself together. You shakily let out a sigh. “.... no,” your voice cracks. Another deep sigh, and you felt a tear drip down your cheek. “I’m… I’m tired, Doyoung.” More tears cascade down your cheeks, bringing your sleeves up to wipe them away with each drop. “I’m exhausted, Doyoung. I’m tired.. of all of this. I’m—”

With the phone still pressed against your ear, you sobbed into the night, finally pouring all your boxed-in emotions out to your lover. You cried out your frustrations, your anger, your desolace. Long have your soul been used to routine that you forgot what warmth felt like. To be cared for, watched for, and loved for.

Your sleeves soaked up all your tears, your eyelids certainly swollen from the sudden rush. You take even breaths, calming yourself down from your breakdown. Throughout your cries, never once did Doyoung strayed away from you, ears firmly pressed against his ear. He took in all, every last drop to mitigate the cold shell you’ve developed over time. He said nothing, only offering his presence as a sort of comfort to you for the time being. Once silence took over, all your tears spent, that’s when he spoke up.

“You did well, y/n.”

You breathing hitches for a moment, heart skipping a beat from his words.

“I’m so, so proud of you, y/n. You made it this far into the semester and for that, I’m proud of you.”

And alas, your smile returns. Minuscule it may be, but it’s more than what you could ask for. The feeling of having your shoulders lifted from your burdens made you feel like you could fly again, soar up in the clouds. Your best friend certainly knows how to cheer you up the most.

“Sorry about all of that,” you chuckled.

“Don’t be sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, I am. You literally just heard me have a breakdown and cry with snots all over the place—”

“I don’t give a damn about all of that, y/n.” There’s a slight shuffle on his end. “I love you for you, and that’s never going to change. I will love you at your lowest, and I will love you at your highest. Even when you feel like there’s no hope left in this world, I will bring you back to earth and hold you and remind you that you are hope.”

Just when you thought you had no more tears left in your system, you could feel the waterworks starting again. You bite down on your lower lip, desperately holding it in as love overcomes you.

“You did well, y/n. Only two more finals to go and you’re finally free.”

You wipe away the stray tear that befallen on your cheek. “Thank you, Doyoung. Really.”

“Now go out there and kick some ass for me, alright? Show those professors who’s the boss around here.”

You giggled. With your two fingers on your temple, you did an informal salute. “Yes, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

Let this be a reminder to you, to all, that there will always be one person that will love you at your lowest, and will always be there to help pick you back up.

i’m afraid that bandaids are no good for heartache not okay, so tell me when your world is falling down

[keilemlucent]

i am your salvation

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~13k

For years, Keigo had trained his body, fucking perfected it’s abilities. Every part of him was honed and forcibly designed to be the winged-hero, Hawks. But, now? He was the defunct number two, ‘Hawks’ and at home— reality? He was the comically broken Keigo Takami who struggled to do basic physical therapy.

Only you know him like that.

warnings: manga spoilers, suicidal ideation, abuse, ANGST with a capital A, just sad :^(((

this piece is hellish, enjoy ;^))) beta’ed by the lovely @keiqos, bless u

----------------------

Keigo was fucked.

He was so beyond fucked.

He was dead.

Basically.

He was half-alive in a hospital bed. An IV drip in each arm, pumping him full of god knows what. He didn’t care to ask. All he knew was that he fucked up.

He’d gotten sloppy.

Stupid.

Pompous. 

And now his wings were fried off his back.

(By fucking Dabi no less.)

 The first conversation he’d had with his doctor upon waking at the HPSC hospital was one where he legitimately contemplated suicide for the first time in a long while.

  “Hawks... There’s no good way to say this. There just isn’t,” The doctor began, looking through Keigo’s chart, sighing deeply. There was something so grave about the way he moved through the sterile hospital room.

The doctor handed him a handheld mirror. 

Hawks slowly raised it up with weakened arms, knowing what he’d see. 

A gruesome burn tore down the left side of his face. It puckered the skin around his eye, narrowing his field of vision (thank god he still had any vision at all). The soft flesh around his eye was so angry and blistered, pockets of puss gathering beneath the surface of his skin.

But what was worse than the scar, so much fucking worse, was the absence.

The complete absence of his wings.

No stubs, no nubs. Just nothing. 

His back ached against the hospital bed as he handed the mirror back to the doctor.

The doctor sighed again. He spoke to Hawks like he didn’t think the hero already knew what he was going to say, “Your wings are gone. Fully. The scans we’ve taken show that the... well, roots of them in your flesh are still present, they’re encased in scar tissue. Even the sections that the feathers grow from are cauterized. In our professional opinion, we don’t think that they’ll ever grow again.”

His heart fell in his chest. 

It fell so deep.

So far.

He didn’t let himself cry.

Instead, he contemplated how hard it would be to overdose on morphine they were undoubtedly dosing him with. 

The doctor continued as Keigo stared sightlessly at his lap, “As established, the muscles that control the roots of your wings are still intact, yes. But, they’re heavily damaged in a way that will affect your everyday life. Even without your wings, the recovery to stabilize your injuries is going to be strenuous.”

Who fucking cared.

Hawks had spent the vast majority of his life training to be a hero and now the very thing that made him the best was literally burned from him. It felt unholy. It felt awful.

Fire wasn’t cleansing, it was putrid. Desecrated was his body as well as his mind.

  He didn’t listen to much else of what the doctor said. He let himself go blank, wishing tears would fall. 

 ...

 That was yesterday.

Today, he was allowed visitors. His PA came, informing him that the Commission was putting him on extended, indefinite (thankfully, somewhat paid) leave in exchange for media appearances. They also informed him that half of the top ten were dead after the war with the PLF. Ryuku, Miruko, Edgeshot, Kamuiwoods, Crust, all lost. And countless others, too. Even some students. It seemed that there was no clear winner of the fight that took so many and changed so much.

One of the most hard-hitting pieces of news was that Endeavor was in a coma, on life support, with a brain injury that would most likely kill him. At best, he’d be a vegetable. 

Keigo felt nothing but hollow as he laid in his hospital bed. He was half machine, based on all of the tubes and monitors that he was hooked up to. He felt truly mechanical and falsely alive. Truly, he was used up. He wanted to die. He was sure of it. 

Keigo wanted to ask his PA to smother him.

He didn’t.

 The next person to visit him was you. His PA had informed him that they were legally obligated to see him first, otherwise, you would’ve been clawing his door down.

You.

Keigo didn’t want you to see him like this. All the reasons you had fallen for him were gone. There was no confidence, no lip, no charm, no drive, no stunning scarlet wings— nothing. He even had the bonus deterrent of a nasty scar covering half his face. He was so sure that you’d take one look at him and turn right out the door. 

Leave him for good. 

Maybe spit on him for good measure.

The old muscles of his wings twitched as you walked through the door. It burned like an old hell. 

You’d clearly been crying, face and eyes puffy. 

But you were strong for him.

You pulled a chair up next to his bed wordlessly. You sat, laying your head on his antiseptic smelling sheets and mattress. Your eyes went half-lidded, just barely looking up at Keigo’s terrified expression. You reached out, grabbing one of Keigo’s clammy hands. You squeezed it.

“I’m here, Kei’,” Your voice was so quiet. “It’s alright. I love you. I’ve got you.”

It made him break.

The machines that he was reliant on screamed as he desperately grabbed at you, dragging you up with the little strength he had. You pushed him down, moving to half kneel on his bed. You didn’t make Keigo work for your touch. 

You cradled his head to your chest as his scarred hands fisted your sweater. He screamed into your sternum. Keigo wailed and cried with everything he had. He was losing himself, raging for far more than just his current injury.

 He bawled for every single time he couldn’t in his hero training, forced to be broken by the demands of the Commission. He sobbed for every casualty and death that was on his hands, righteous or otherwise. And, selfishly, he cried for himself. He let tears fall in mourning for the version of himself that died by Dabi’s hand. 

He let himself shatter in your arms for the burning muscles and scars of his back, the ache of his face, and the emptiness and vulnerability that his lack of wings graced him with.

You more than let him; you encouraged it.

You stroked his hair, matted with sweat and grease. You whispered soft adorations, validations and love into his ears. He can hear your tears too, but it didn’t stop you.

“I love you, Keigo.”

“I’m here.”

“You’re safe.” 

“I’m not leaving.”

“I’ve got you, Kei’.”

“No one else will hurt you. I won’t let them.”

 You were far too late on the last one. But, you were quirkless. Powerless to stop the destruction that ravaged his body and now, his mind. 

Additionally, Keigo was relieved you didn’t say that ‘everything will be okay’. 

He knew it wouldn’t be.

You let him crumble against you for hours. 

Finally, he was spent, falling back in his bed, and letting you slump back into your chair. You took the liberty of finding a warm towel to wipe his face down with.

The rest of visiting hours, you laid your head on his mattress, holding his hand as he drifted in and out of sleep. Nurses came and poked and prodded him. They didn’t bother making conversation with either of you. 

They understood, to some degree. 

You were both together in mourning. 

A nurse came by later, night had fallen, telling you visiting hours were over. 

Keigo audibly whined.

You shook your head, running a thumb over Keigo’s knuckles.

“It’s alright,” You soothed both him and the nurse. “I’m not leaving.”

The nurse didn’t fight you, merely exited the room.

Keigo watched, awed. You retrieved a decently sized duffle bag and pillow that you’d brought (he hadn’t noticed). You set up a blanket and the pillow on a couch in the corner as a makeshift bed.

“Y-you’re staying?” Keigo asked, voice raw. 

You, somehow, smiled. So gentle and precious, nodding, “As long as you’d like me to. I told you, I’m here.”

Keigo relied on you for comfort in the past, sure. But not like this. Not like you were his anchor, tethering him to his existence now that his pride and preen were plucked from him. You were his salvation in that hospital room. You were the ground that he desperately and necessarily needed to learn to walk on.

 You both fell asleep quickly, dreaming of better things outside of your waking nightmare.

 ---------------------------

 Keigo was discharged two weeks later.

It is thoroughly confirmed that, unless by some medical miracle, his wings were truly toast. Gone for good.

The Commission brought in at least a dozen folks with spectacular healing quirks. Truly, the best the country had. Turns out, the Commission was clawing for hope too, in the wake of everything.

The efforts were in vain, of course.

Nothing stuck. 

The scar tissue wouldn’t shrink. The damage was too severe. The cauterization was so intense, it altered him. Forever.

 You stayed with him the whole time.

You went home, just a bit, maybe an hour a day. You showered then, changed clothes. 

You’d come back and do what you had been the whole time.

Just being there.

 You didn’t make him idly chat or make him watch shitty, hospital cable. You let him ruminate, stew, and simmer. You let him be crushed.

You were smart enough, empathetic enough to know that nothing you could do or say would lift him right now. 

He just needed you there.

And so, you were. 

 After being discharged with several prescriptions, orders to limit activity to allow for his other injuries (and concussion) to heal, the two of you went home. 

 Your first task was Keigo getting properly washed. 

At first, Keigo resisted.

“N-no, I’m fine, I’ll take one tomorrow,” Truthfully, he wouldn’t probably, not without your help. He just didn’t want you to see him so intimately in this state.

You shook your head, speaking as you brought several plush towels into the bathroom. You turned to Keigo who had wrapped his arms around his frail-looking form, looking at the floor.

You brought him into your arms, rubbing at his neck, not wanting to aggravate the injuries on his back, “I know you don’t want to, but it’ll feel good. Let me take care of you, please.”

You spoke so earnestly, it made Keigo fall apart. He hated being so helpless. 

He nodded against you.

You sat him on the toilet seat while you ran a bath in Keigo’s spectacular tub. You poured in epsom salts and some lavender bubble bath, filling the room with a familiar, herbal scent.

You helped him strip, mindful to not linger on any part of his body. Carefully, you lowered Keigo into the water. He could help but be surprised by the strength in your body to do so. Perhaps foolishly, he had never taken you as physically strong. After stripping yourself, you got in as well, across from him, so you wouldn’t see his scars. You were perhaps a bit too considerate.

The water burned his wounds, yet calmed his muscles. It was a different sensation than the ones he’d had for the past weeks. He welcomed it.

Keigo sagged in the bathwater, looking somewhat relaxed for the first time in so long. You knelt in the water and suds, lathering up his hair and body. So carefully did you wash away the sweat, smells, and lingerings of the hospital and the war that preceded it. You went through his hair with your own conditioner, figuring that the familiar smell might help keep him calm. Keigo didn’t say anything, just let you do as you needed. You carefully untangled any and all knots from his tresses, rinsing him down.

You dried him off, putting a few scented body oils on his dry patches of skin, parched from his time in the hospital. You still didn’t look at his back.

He felt ashamed and thoroughly disgusted. He smushed his face into your shoulder, gripping onto your like if he wasn’t, he’d die.

You find him fucking repulsive, right?

 “Kei’,” Your voice quiet still, “You okay?— Wait, don’t answer that.”

You chuckle at yourself. Keigo would’ve laughed too if he could. 

Keigo dressed himself, a semi-self sufficient act that made him feel better. Though, you picked out the clothes. Some of your own, soft, old garments that Keigo had seen you in a hundred times. 

It was only before he put on a shirt that you gave his back the quickest once-over, “You can put your shirt on now, Kei’. I just wanted to make sure it looked okay. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Even that much sight and contact of the old roots of his wings made him feel so ashamed. It burned the corpse of his ego like the hot fire that crisped his wings. 

Despite those nasty feelings, the simple act of wearing your shirt made him feel better. It felt so good, so good, to be surrounded by you instead of the sterility of the hospital. 

 You had been kind enough to leave the hospital for a bit longer than normal the day prior to go shopping. You bought Keigo a large, fluffy, ivory blanket. You even washed it, so it smelled like home (and you) too.  

After you helped him to the wide couch, custom made to accommodate Keigo’s now torched wings. It was a small burn (ha) to his psyche, but he tried to let it go as you got him comfortable.

You gave him your special pillow. The one Keigo loved to steal and take naps with. You covered him in the new blanket.

“Is that okay?” You asked, tucking him in. Keigo would normally be embarrassed by something childish like that, but he couldn’t make himself care. It felt so good to be comforted. 

 So softly, he replied, “You made it feel like home already.”

You let a sad smile drift to your face, massaging Keigo’s scalp as he sobbed into his new blanket. 

He was so glad to be surrounded by you, no matter how rotten he felt. 

 -------------------

 The first week home was the hardest. Sleeping was painful, even next to you. Eating was a fucking labor as he had no appetite. Nothing interested him in the slightest other than staring at walls and pretending he would wake up from this nightmare soon.

An at-home physical therapist was brought in. He had to retrain the muscles in his back to relax, now that they weren’t carrying the weight of his wings. The constant tension in his back would cause long term damage (not like he wasn’t already riddled with chronic injury), least of all tension headaches. 

Your job let you work from home. Thank god.

...

Keigo hated his exercises. They hurt so bad.

For years, Keigo had trained his body, fucking perfected its abilities. Every part of him was honed and forcibly designed to be the winged-hero, Hawks. But, now? He was the defunct number two, ‘Hawks’ and at home— reality? He was the comically broken Keigo Takami who struggled to do basic physical therapy. 

Only you knew him like that.

 Keigo’s fists slammed against the floor as he strained with his PT exercises, the therapist themselves long gone for the day. You worked from your laptop on the couch. You weren’t supposed to aid him with his exercises unless necessary, as the therapist had instructed.

“Do you want me to help you?” You asked, almost coaxingly. 

Keigo beat his fists once more, crying out almost like a petulant child, (he hated himself for it oh my god—), “I don’t want to fucking do this! I can’t do this!”

And Keigo sobbed into the floor with abandon.

You moved from the couch to haul him into your arms, pressing his face into your neck. You said nothing, you just let him scream and die against you.

“I can’t do this!” 

“I hate this!”

“Make this fucking stop!”

“Just make this all fucking stop!”

“JUST FUCKING KILL ME ALREADY!”

This got you to speak, not shushing him, but just trying to soothe—

“IF YOU REALLY FUCKING LOVE ME, THEN YOU’LL SLIT MY THROAT IN MY SLEEP AND LET THIS FUCKING NIGHTMARE BE OVER!—”

 You froze. 

He didn’t.

Keigo kept begging you to kill him. 

Incessantly so.

He didn’t know what to do.

This was a tantrum, maybe. More like a breakdown. It felt dramatic. But, his thoughts were real. He’d be happy to die, especially by your hand. Then you wouldn’t have to take care of him and he wouldn’t be able to feel as awful as he did. 

You kept holding him, squeezing him harder and harder still. 

Finally, Keigo tuckered himself out and sagged against you. 

 You reached up to the side table, grabbing your own glass of water, and offering it to him. You still hadn’t spoken.

Part of him thought to apologize, crack a joke even. But he couldn’t make himself do either. Instead, his shaking hands grabbed the glass. You didn’t fully let it go, just guided it to his lips where it dribbles down his chin. 

Keigo sputtered a sob.

He couldn’t stand being so weak.

 “Love,” You spoke so softly as he sipped. “I will never hurt you like that. I won’t let anyone else, either.”

Keigo suddenly started fucking laughing, for the first time in so fucking long, ripping the cup fully from your hands and throwing it across the room. It shattered in a wild display of raining glass and water. He hadn’t laughed in what felt like months. He let it loose, grabbing your face and directing it right at you, breath curling over your cheeks.

He knew it was cruel, to take it out on you. He hated himself for it even as he was doing it.

“How the fuck do you think you’ll protect me?” Keigo cackled into your face, horror beginning to overtake your features. He didn’t care. It felt good— “You’re just some stupid, weak, quirkless civilian— how the fuck do you think someone as powerless as you can protect me when I can’t even protect me—!”

 He kept laughing, but he was crying. He couldn’t tell which was which. Keigo could only tell he was hysterical.

 This whole time, since he had woken up in the hospital, you had been nothing but the perfect partner. You had been so kind, asking for nothing in return.

And yet, he’d verbally strike you like this for no other reason than his own hurt.

How fucking cruel.

 You let Keigo go, unable to disguise the pain in your expression. You didn’t say anything back to him. As you left the room, you were covering your eyes with your arm. Keigo caught one of your sobs as you fled to the bathroom, almost slamming the door. 

 Keigo heard your muffled cries for hours until you fell asleep on the bathroom tile as his old burns and guilt ate him alive. 

 He tried his exercises again. 

 -------------------

 That night, Keigo was too deep in sleep to hear you enter your shared bedroom. Part of you didn’t want to sleep next to him. You thought about returning to the bathroom or moving to the couch. But, you couldn’t make yourself. 

Keigo’s words hurt so bad. 

Partially because they were cruel. They gnawed at your insecurities, the fears you were desperately suppressing for him. 

Partially because you hated the fact you couldn’t do more, despite already doing so much. 

Partially because you knew that Keigo would never say things like that to you if he wasn’t being eaten up on the inside. 

Partially because the love of your life asked you to snuff his life out. 

It all hurt. Stung. Ached. Burned. 

 There was a small detail that hurt in a different way.

He called you quirkless.

You weren’t quirkless.

Your quirk was so weak and so taxing, sure. It was basically unusable. For fucks sake, you never even bothered to tell Keigo directly as you never used it. He had access to citizen quirk records, and you figured he checked in the several years the two of you had been dating. Apparently not.

But, you did have a quirk.

You stood next to your bed, Keigo covered in the comforter and soft white blanket you’d gotten for him. You could see the peakings of his back. His skin was marred with burns, cuts and scars that looked unimaginably horrible. You’d been avoiding looking at it, for him. You’d seen how it made him cringe.

But now with Keigo sleeping so deeply? You took it all in.

You looked at the nearly black scarring where the roots of his wings were. The fanning out of puckered, red skin from the burns. His back, which once rippled with the muscles that controlled his crazily powerful wings, was now a charred plain. 

...

You had an awful, far-fetched, fucked up idea. 

You sat, sinking into the bed as you contemplated your idea.

You brought your hands to your face, concentrating on your fingertips. 

Small, tiny vines and green shoots left your fingers.

There’s absolutely no way that this will work.

But, you’d hate yourself if you didn’t try.

 Life reclaimed life, you supposed. 

You drummed up a half-assed plan. It was a weak, frail idea— it would need a lot of support. Even then, you didn’t want to give yourself false hope. You couldn’t give Keigo false hope. It would ruin him.

...

You’d have to fix your diet. Eat lots of nutrient-rich food. Take more vitamins too.

You slotted yourself next to Keigo who, in sensing your warmth, turned into you, pressing into your front. His head nuzzled into your chest, an arm wrapping around your waist. 

You heard him wince at the motion, flinching in his sleep.

You had to try. 

One of your hands went to his back, brushing down the comforter to reveal the particularly gnarly scars where Keigo had lost part of himself. You laid your hand flat on the fire-flayed skin, praying you don’t wake him. You concentrated, watching small greenery go from your fingers to his flesh, desperately trying to repair the damage that had been done. 

 ------------------------------------

 Keigo apologized to you the next morning. He clutched your chest and told you how sorry he was. He told you how he knows he’s acting out, he’s just so fucking sad—

You told him that he didn’t need to justify himself. Not to you. Though, you accepted his apology and asked him to not say those kinds of things to you again.

“I’m trying my best, and I know it's not enough sometimes... but it's all I’ve got,” You speak to him in your own small voice. One that portrayed a weakness that you hadn’t shown since Keigo had been injured.

He felt even guiltier. 

 But, the second week was better.

His exercises were getting easier. Eating came a little better too. You started cooking more, not getting as much takeout. Part of him missed the comfort of familiar street foods, but another part of him craved the home-cooked meals you made so much more. They helped him feel better too, packed with veggies and lean proteins. 

Keigo didn’t notice, he was far too out of it, but you were already looking more haggard. 

It came with using your quirk in general, let alone to the extent you were pushing it. It was a pitiful quirk and you’d never strained it half as far as you were then. 

It had a price. 

To heal others, even something as small as a paper cut would take from your own body.

And, you were dedicating at least thirty minutes a night to attempting to ‘heal’ (read: reconstruct) the tissue of Keigo’s back. You had to start so deep in his muscles; it hurt to push your quirk that far down. Within the first five minutes, that first night you tried, you were silently crying from exertion.

But, you didn’t relent.

Each day, it was a little easier.

Sure, you had bad nights where it was extra hard. You blamed it on not eating well enough, using up too much of yourself during the day. 

It was a shitty excuse, notably. Your quirk was weak and self-destructive, it was beyond your bodily capabilities. There was no way to tell if it was even working to heal Keigo’s body. It was a gamble. 

And your wager was your health and body.

Even eating optimally and taking a bevy of new vitamins each morning before Keigo awoke, you could tell your physical health was suffering. You were losing a bit of fat already. Dark circles were punched under your eyes from the exhaustion. You had developed the slightest shake when you moved.

And the worst part was, you knew that you’d only get weaker from here on out.

So, you upped your calorie intake. You kept careful track of the foods you ate, the same with Keigo’s. He didn’t seem to mind the delicious meals you now coveted crafting, no matter how tired you were. If he was eating better, it would probably help you too, right?

You could only hope, resting it all on a long shot. 

 --------------------------

 Week three was good, but hard. 

The HPSC commission forced Keigo to do a media appearance. He told them, bluntly, that he couldn’t fake it right now. Probably, forever. 

They told him to suck it up, get out there, and put some hope into their society that was being pulled apart at the seams.

Keigo refused to let you come. He didn’t want to think about how you’ll look at him when he’s all dressed in his hero uniform, wings absent from his back, forcing him to bear the two empty slots of his jacket. 

When he mentioned it, you offered to sew them up.

Keigo felt horrible, but he just gave a nod, handing you his jacket without looking at you. 

You stitched the slits shut for him. Keigo requested red thread for the stitching and you obliged him.

 (You made note that Keigo truly had no hope. You couldn’t tell him a thing about your quirk usage until you were positive that it would have results.) 

 The media appearance went okay. Not great, but okay. ‘Hawks’ was dead, and Keigo was not a performer like he was. Though he still went by his hero name, his real name only known by himself, the Commission, Dabi (may he rot in hell), and you. He coveted that you had the intimacy in knowing his identity, but it felt dirtier now that Dabi (Touya?) had that name in his throat as well.

 When Keigo came home from the media appearance, he was keyed up. He flitted around the apartment while you made dinner. There was an anxiousness in his movements.‘Hawks’ would’ve taken to the skies to fly off some of this fractious energy. Keigo just had to wait for food to be ready and pray that the feelings went away. 

Just before dinner, he decided to try exercises outside of the one his physical therapist assigned him. He was feeling energetic enough, right? Might as well pull out some of the easier moves from his hero training. 

Keigo moved to his now seldom-used at home gym. He picked up a dust-covered five-pound weight and proceeded to try and curl it. The moment Keigo brought it above his head, his back tensed and burned something fierce.

The weight fell from Keigo’s hand, half-thrown, luckily missing any and all of his toes and feet. 

He cried in frustration, stuck staring at himself in the wall of mirrors. 

Keigo truly thought he looked pitiful.

He was still wearing his hero uniform sans the jacket. He’d lost a lot of muscle mass with his more sedentary state. His hair was too long. He had gotten more pale, losing his few freckles. His eyes were bloodshot and his teeth curl over his lips in a snarl—

“Keigo?” You opened the door to the gym, eyes wide with shock, but your tone didn’t change. He just glowered at you from the mirrors. You spoke again, staring him down with an almost scarily neutral poker face. “Dinner’s ready. Would you like to eat? Otherwise, I can save it for you.”

Keigo didn’t reply. He went back to trying to pick up the weight, screaming each time and hating how his back burned so intensely.

You left without saying anything. 

 ---------------------------

 Week four was hard because you and Keigo’s relationship is beginning to suffer. Or, it had been, but it was reaching a fever pitch. 

Keigo’s lack of human contact, lack of physical activity, and general cabin fever were getting to him. He was lashing out more and you, kind as you were, were having trouble dealing with it.

Your own run downstate was eating you alive, literally. No matter how much you put into your body, you needed more to heal Keigo. You were up to two hours a night of working at Keigo’s tissue with your quirk. By the end of your ‘sessions’, you would simply pass out and fall into listless slumber. You were losing a lot of sleep each night, but you were determined to keep going. 

Your exhaustion, in general, was making you a bit more prickly towards Keigo’s increasing frequent outbursts.

It all came to a head on a Sunday night.

The two of you were curled up on the couch, half-cuddling and half-watching TV.

A notice for breaking news showed red on the screen.

Both of you tensed. Before Keigo’s injury, he’d be rushing to throw on his hero gear and fly to help. Now, he just sat next to you, stiff as a board with pin-pricked pupils.

A picture, pre-PLF injury Endeavor flashed on screen.

“The Hero Public Safety Commission has just made the press release the former number one hero, Endeavor, is no longer in comatose.”

You watched a real, happy smile, spread on Keigo’s face. For a moment, there was a sliver of hope—

“But, he still remains in critical condition. Due to injuries affecting his central nervous system, he is reported as being in a state of paralysis. As of now, his life still hangs in the balance, though he is lucid.”

Keigo stiffened again.

There was rage painting his face. 

And pain. 

You stiffened with him.

You did not have it in you that night to deal with one of Keigo’s explosive moments. 

“Endeavor has left us all with this message—”

The camera flashed to an old video of the old ‘number one hero’, healthy and strong with a fist raised in the air.

You braced for impact as Keigo stood, shoulders hunching over.

Endeavors voice washed over your living room,

“Go Plus Ultra!”

And Keigo, honest to god, shrieked.

He fell to his knees and beat the floor beneath him. He slammed his fists in the hardwood over, and over, and over again. You slipped to the ground with him, trying to grab at his fists.

“Keigo, you’re gonna hurt yourself—” You tried to tell him. You managed to capture one of his fists, urging it to stay down-

But, you looked up to see Keigo giving a feral look with a frenzied, white-hot sneer all for you. 

 And his free fist flew towards you. It connected hard and solidly to your jaw.

You hadn’t been expecting it. Keigo had never struck you before, not even close. For fucks sake, he had never even raised his voice at you before his injury.

So, how could you expect to brace yourself for it?

The force of Keigo’s blow knocked you back. You jolted, falling onto your side and turning your head to the side, away from Keigo.

You brought a hand up to cup and shield your face, your jaw and eye socket throbbing. 

All you could feel was shock.

And sadness.

And horror.

And anger.

And terror.

 Keigo snapped out of it.

The news report was still playing, but he couldn’t hear it.

There was only the rushing of blood in his ears.

His mouth turned bone dry.

He had watched you move with his strike, falling more to the ground, hiding yourself—

“Oh my g-god, (Y/N),” Keigo’s voice was slippery and warbling. “I-I d-didn’t—” 

“No,” You stood up, still holding and hiding your face from him. His heart was crumbling in his chest.

You looked at him with only fear and heartbreak.

Keigo scrambled up, trying to apologize, hold you, mend this before it got worse—

But you put the hand that wasn’t cupping your face out, just barely touching his chest. You refused to let him any closer. 

“H-hey Kei’?” Your voice sounded so, so shaky. It’s hardly there. You were holding back tears and it was so obvious. It made every part of Keigo burn with shame. “I can’t today. Maybe another day, I could deal with this, y-ya know? But not today, okay? Have a g-good night.”

You walked away before he could say anything else.

 You dashed off to the guest room, shutting and locking the door before falling against it and breaking. You cried and rocked yourself as you tried to self-soothe your shattered body and mind. 

The month prior had been so hard. The person you love was hurt so deeply, and though you were trying with everything you had to help, it didn’t seem like enough. You were getting verbally beat up semi-frequently and now Keigo had fucking hit you. 

You were scared. You were terrified that this would become the norm. That Keigo’s outbursts would continue to worsen, as they had been, and you would become a physical punching bag for him.

It especially hurt because you were trying so hard to help Keigo. 

You weren’t delusional enough to think you could really fix him, were you? 

The fact that you were secretly and silently trying to regenerate Keigo’s body with a quirk he didn’t even know you had struck you bluntly in your mind.

“I’m just so fucked up, aren’t I?” You laughed and sobbed to yourself at the same time, slamming your head backward on the door, relishes the pain that floods your skull. It was a reprieve from the bruises blooming across your cheekbone. 

You eventually managed to cry yourself to sleep, literally. You curled up in a ball on the floor next to the door, worn down to the bone.

 In the early morning, far before dawn, you pulled yourself into half-wakefulness. 

You were relentless and you were coming to hate yourself for it.

You needed to work on Keigo, no matter how you shitty felt.

You crept into the master bedroom, trying to be silent. You didn’t want to wake him. Only when you were fully in the room did you notice a soft lamp is still on despite it being early, early morning. 

Wide awake and upright, Keigo looked horrified to see you. He looked at you, shaking and half-sobbing into a pillow he clutched to his chest.

You both seemed shocked to see each other. 

You sniffled as you turned off the lamp, stripping down to just a t-shirt and panties before climbing into your side of the bed.

You refused to face him while he was awake. You got as comfortable as you could (which wasn’t much). 

There was half an hour of disgustingly awkward silence. It coated the room, bearing the two of you who refused to sleep. 

“I’m s-sorry,” Keigo had yet to move. He was frozen in place as you were turned away from him in the dark. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N).”

Silence.

Your mouth felt dry and your mind parched. 

“Keigo,” You spoke like a being empty. You truly felt like it too. “If you ever touch me like that again, I will do worse than just leave you.”

It was a threat.

You let yourself have it, in all of this. You deserved one low blow. 

Keigo slowly slid down into the covers, babbling apologies and beginning to cry again. 

“Stop, Kei’,” You finally turned towards him, cupping his face. He blinked at you, eyes wide and glassy. “I love you. Just stop. Apologizing doesn’t make something like this better. I can’t do this if you keep hurting me, you know that. Just be better.”

Keigo winced at that. He knew it was true, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful.

You fell asleep on each other that night. You let your headrest nestled up against Keigo’s chest. He breathed softly above you, arms wrapped securely around you, holding you tightly like he was afraid you’d leave. You wouldn’t. You made the decision to stay at the beginning of all this. Your threats would always be empty. 

Idly, you had an arm thrown over Keigo’s waist, snaking up the back of his shirt to press your fingertips against his scars. Your roots and greenery didn’t have to go as deep now, as far as you could tell.

But, it had been a month with no discernable progress, visual or otherwise. 

But, you held onto hope. 

Because you had to hold onto hope that Keigo would get better. 

All of him.

 -------------------------------

      The second month was... different. 

Keigo tried with his whole heart to earn back your trust.

You flinched at him for the first week or so. 

He hated himself so fucking much each time you did. But, he never blamed you. He couldn’t.

(Even as you twitched away from him in the daylight, you tirelessly worked on his scars in his sleep. You couldn’t give up, no matter how awful you felt). 

Keigo did his exercises several times a day. He made a few more media appearances but refused to be seen with Endeavor. He (and truthfully, the Commission) knew that he could not psychologically handle it.

You were rapidly getting weaker, but you didn’t care. You ate more, slept when you could, and pushed on. You were up to three hours of healing a night. Tears rolled down your cheeks the whole time.

You were clinging to the prayer that you could unburn Keigo’s back like it would save you from your personally made hell. 

This was despite the fact he was already crawling out of the pit himself. 

 Your existence was eased slightly as Keigo was starting to help out more. 

Keigo wasn’t anywhere near normal— normal Keigo was dead in a disintegrated building, miles from your shared home. But, he was getting better.

 His muscles felt better. He wasn’t sure how, but they did. His PT exercises must’ve been working. The outbursts he had thrown so often during the first month pittered out to maybe once or twice a week. They were calmer now. You were still his anchor, of course, that was undeniable. But, it was mostly crying and clutching and not screaming and breaking.

It was a welcome shift.

Most of the time, Keigo would pull you into his lap and wrap you in his embrace. Softly, he’d sway and rock the two of you, like he was trying to lull and calm not just himself, but you in tandem.

A lot of the time, this was true. 

Your flinching subsided and Keigo had no more close calls with any physical violence towards you. In a few high strung moments, he still snapped at you. He’d apologize, and do better. At least, you told yourself that. That’s how you saw it anyways. 

Keigo was thoroughly traumatized. His mind was an open nerve and that had consequences. You were so endlessly tired. What kind of wounds and trauma were you incurring?

You forced yourself not to think about it. 

 Part of you, during this month, wanted to simply pack a bag and leave without a trace. 

But, you stayed with Keigo. You stayed determined. 

(Or, you stayed out of spite. On your bad days, you really had trouble figuring it out.)

Your body looked like shit. You were endlessly glad Keigo still wasn’t in a position to be having any sort of sex because he probably would’ve noticed how fucked up your body was getting.

You shook constantly, always quaking like a leaf in a rainstorm. Your skin bruised with almost any contact beyond light touch. Your eyes, once vibrant and expressive, had sunk in. 

Your body, no matter the several thousand extra calories you forced yourself to eat a day, still ran through your fat reserves. It was leeching muscle from you. It made your joints feel raw. 

 It almost hurts that you noticed how Keigo is so pained, but he didn’t notice you falling apart.

 -----------------------

      The third month was when shit hit the fan.

It was near the end of the month. 

You were doing so badly. You stretched yourself far beyond your body's abilities. 

You felt particularly sick, but you needed to get groceries. Keigo couldn’t himself for a host of reasons, which made it your job. You kissed him on the cheek as you left for the market.

Meanwhile, Keigo’s physical therapist dropped by for a check-in appointment. 

Keigo did his exercises beautifully. He had to admit, his muscles didn’t ache in nearly the same way they used to. They only really hurt when the weather changed, like he was some old, arthritic man. 

“Wow!” His therapist gasped, watching him complete his exercises. “It’s looking great, Hawks. It looks like you’ve gained back a lot of strength.”

The small amount of praise made him beam as he sat up. 

“I just want to check the actual wounds around your back, if that’s alright? Just feel the scar tissue,” The therapist asked. Keigo bit his lip, slowly pulling off his tee-shirt. He didn’t like the idea of anyone’s hands being that close to the intimate roots of his dead wings. 

But, it was necessary.

Keigo faced his back to her.

All he got was an audible gasp as the therapist’s hands traced at his spine.

“The progress back here- Hawks this is insane,” The other was alight, pressing a thumb somewhere near the root. It hardly even hurt. “The scar tissue— it’s not gone, but it's a lot more tender than it should be. Like it's actually healing.”

“Is that why it doesn’t hurt so bad?” Keigo asked, letting a few slivers of joy light him up from the inside out. During his initial prognosis, multiple doctors had said that he was going to be on fire for years, not months. 

The therapist nodded, “Looks like it. Even the scarring on the surface looks pretty good. Must have some damn good genes to be healing like this.”

The two laughed, Keigo feeling more lighthearted than he had in months. 

 You, on the other hand, were greatly struggling. 

You were so, so fucking cold; yet another bi-product of your overextension. You were wrapped in an oversized cardigan on top of one of Keigo’s mock necks. You couldn’t stop trembling as you try to shop as quickly and effectively as possible. Anything to get you home as soon as possible. 

You had a great deal of difficulty doing this, though.

If you moved too fast, your vision blacked out. It had been like that for a while, a week or two. You’d lost track. You figured it was your iron, maybe blood pressure. 

It was an easy thing to hide at home, but much harder in public.

You reached for something high on a metal shelf, tossing it into your cart. You needed another item, on the bottom shelf. You dropped to your knees, your body aching and rolling.

Almost done.

So close. 

Then you can go home and rest.

You stood up too fast. Your vision went black ringed for a second. You stumble, trying to catch yourself as you lost sight. 

You felt weightless for a moment, spinning, Though your limbs felt weighed down, impossible to move. As your vision returned, its field wouldn’t move, pointed up at the ceiling of the crowded market. 

There were people speaking, shouting around you.

Alarmed.

Speaking to you?

You didn’t care.

You were so, so tired.

You let your eyes slip shut.

 ------------ 

 Keigo had been waiting for you for several hours longer than it took to go grocery shopping, sure. And, to have you gone from the apartment so long made him itch too. It had been eating him, making him pace around. You hadn’t been answering your phone either. He figured you had made a detour and let your phone die.

 When he received a call from the local civilian hospital about you, he feels his blood freeze in his veins. 

“You’re listed here as (Y/N)’s emergency contact as a partner, yes?” The nurse asked. “They collapsed at a local market. They’re stable, but we’d recommend coming to the hospital as soon as you’re able to.” 

Keigo nodded, head swimming.

You’re hurt.

You’re safe, but you’re hurt.

...

Keigo was whisked to the back of the hospital in a poor disguise. He gets recognized, given some extra security. The scar that marred his face was enough of a marker even if he didn’t have wings. He hardly cared. He couldn’t. 

Your door opened to a very dark room, soft beeps and hums filling it. 

He imagined that he must've been feeling close to how you felt, seeing him in such a similar position those few months ago.

The nurse enters ahead of him, clicking around on a tablet to pull up your chart.

Keigo could hardly pay attention. He felt like he was going to die, seeing you like that.

You had an IV, pushing fluids into your thinned arms. Your face was hollow looking, sockets sunken, especially with your eyes closed like they were. You had several blankets on you, piled over you. Yet, you were still visibly shivering.

The nurse whispered, “They’ve been asleep for a while now. A doctor will be in soon. Just sit tight.”

She left the room while Keigo pulled a chair up to your bed. 

The smell of the hospital burned his nose. It reminded him far too much of his own time. All that pain. 

The ache in his back flared, but he figured it was somatic.

 Keigo reached out as he sat, holding one of your frail-looking hands in both of his own (had you looked this purely death stricken this morning? Keigo couldn’t recall either way, and he hates himself for it).

Your eyes slowly opened.

 Keigo met your gaze, breath caught in both of your throats.

Neither of you got a chance to speak, not a moment of fucking comfort, before a doctor barged in, flipping through your chart with a bored look on his face.

“We finished up your testing. Lucky for you, no concussion or fractures from your fall,” The doctor nods. He doesn’t even seem to notice Keigo, or rather, Hawks. “The rest of your results aren’t looking so great though.”

Your hand stiffened violently in Keigo’s grip. Your face went from worn and exhausted to filled with terror and... guilt?

 You were fucked.

The doctors and nurses had mentioned to you that they were fairly certain that all of your symptoms came from quirk overuse. You started weakly crying at that, your nurses looking confused. You didn’t elaborate then. You knew, the moment you woke up in the hospital that you were going to have to confront your own damage to your body.

You were going to be forced to explain it.

To Keigo.

The doctor continued. 

“Low levels of nearly all essential vitamins and minerals. Particularly low iron, magnesium, and potassium. In general, your test results and physical state would lead me to think you’re suffering from malnutrition. But, your panel shows that your metabolic rate is actually going abnormally quickly in a way that could only be linked to-”

Wait for it.

“Quirk overuse-”

Keigo barked out a laugh, letting go of your hand, “I’m sorry, but what? They’re quirkless, it has to be something else.”

 You didn’t say anything. Your eyes, glassy and unfocused, are trained on your lap. You’re taking sharp, quick breaths.

You’re going to have to tell him everything.

 The doctor flips through your chart again, shaking his head and bringing it over for Keigo to look at, “I apologize if this seems out of turn, but they’re listed in the public files as having a quirk... It’s marked as a weak healing quirk, but all the same, any strength of quirk has overuse.”

Keigo is stone still.

There’s tension so thick in the air of the room that the doctor excuses himself. 

 Keigo, for months now, had been in a traumatized stupor. His normally sharpened senses, aided by his wings, were the key to so much of his cunning. Both his physical and mental states were affected, which had made him less observant.

It had caused him to disregard so much. 

 But now, in your stupid, acrid hospital room, he was quickly putting it together. 

His back burned again. 

 You felt frozen. You couldn’t force yourself to move. You couldn’t do anything other than look at your lap and roll in your head. Your body hurt so bad, your head hurt too, and so did your fucking heart.

 “Can I clarify? Because I think I have an idea of what’s going on.”  Keigo had physically moved away from you. He leaned back in his chair, staring down with a mix of expressions you couldn’t suss out. It made you feel even sicker.

You nodded.

“Breath, (Y/N),” Keigo reminded you. He watched you take a massive inhale, followed by tears beginning to gather. You still wouldn’t meet his eyes. 

 “Have you been... using your quirk on me? Without me knowing?” Keigo asked, trying to keep his voice firm, but truthfully, it wanted to waver and bend so badly. “Please be honest.”

You nod, breaking down to rub at your eyes. 

Keigo doesn’t stop the instinctual way he moved towards you, leaning over your bed and wrapping his arms around me.

With his cheek pressed to the top of your head, he broke the illusion:

“Please tell me what’s going on. Please.”

And so, you did.

It came out tearfully, you spilling and cracking as you did. You felt stupid and guilty and awful, but at least you were out of this fucked up lie. 

It all poured out of you. Your fear and your desperation were all laid out and Keigo was reading the cards.  

You explained that your quirk has always been weak in addition to taxing on the body. Hence, you had seldom, if ever, used it as an adult. You were effectively quirkless and you were okay with that. Keigo had never asked so you never told him. 

You tell him, voice shaking, what happened the night Keigo had pleaded with you to kill him.

“I-I, Kei’,” You push out, pressing your face into his shoulder. “I didn’t know what to do. You were so hurt and so sad and I had this stupid fucking idea that maybe, maybe I could use to my quirk to heal you.”

Keigo’s breath catches. He doesn’t say anything for a moment before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me? Ask me?”

“I didn’t know if it would work. I still don’t know if it does. It didn’t wanna... I didn’t want to get your hopes up. E-especially since it would’ve been coming from me.” You pressed harder into him like you’re scared of him disappearing. “You were already so crushed.”

Keigo didn’t know what to say. There was a swirl of emotions bubbling and writhing in his body and mind and he didn’t know what to say for the first time in a long time.

 So he didn’t say anything.

Keigo sat back in his chair, putting his elbows to his knees, using folded hands to rest his head on, parsing through his own feelings.

“K-Keigo?” You asked, wiping a tear away. As much as Keigo hated seeing you like this, he also recognized your state was by your hand. 

Right?

“Sweetheart, I love you—” Keigo stopped himself, sighing deep in his chest. “But, I can’t... I just need some time.”

 You nodded, tears coming back to drip down your face.

Keigo just watched with a neutral expression.

 -----------------

 Despite not being able to handle talking to you, Keigo was more than willing to help you out of the hospital. You were discharged with a prescribed diet and vitamins as well as a followup appointment in a few weeks. 

“And, most importantly,” The doctor made eye contact with you. “Don’t use that quirk of yours until further notice. Honestly, with it being so destructive, I can’t understand why you would in the first place.”

You burned with shame.

The night you came back from the hospital, Keigo took incredible care of you. He didn’t talk much during it, not to you anyways. He was nearly constantly speaking under his breath, all unintelligible. From his tone and myriad of expressions, you guessed he was verbally processing. 

Keigo gingerly gave you a bath, scrubbing away the smells and stickiness of the hospital. He managed to cook you one of the nutritious recipes you had shown him a few weeks ago. You sheepishly had to ask for another portion, explaining how your metabolism burned so quickly.

“Have...” Keigo finally spoke while making you another plate. “Have you always been eating this much?”

You nodded, sipping your water, “For a long time, yes.”

He hated himself for not noticing such obvious things. 

 Keigo kept carrying you from place to place, no matter how much his back hurt. He didn’t care. He couldn’t.

He laid you in bed at some point, sliding in next to you. He still hadn’t spoken much since you’d left the hospital. 

You had tried to babble apologies and beg for forgiveness, but selfishly, Keigo wasn’t listening. He was trapped in his own head. Even when you clung to him in the bath, he could hardly make himself hold you up from sliding too far into the water. 

It almost hurt to touch you.

 It was late when Keigo finally verbally, directly regarded you. 

“Why?” Keigo asked. You’re both turned away from each other. The bed had been vibrating with your harsh breathing and crying for an hour or so now. “Why did you do all this?”

You stop shaking, but only for a moment.

Your voice is so soft, weak, “Please don’t blame yourself. It was my choice.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Keigo could hear the anger in his voice. “Why. Did. You. Do. This?”

You’re silent for a moment. 

And then you’re sitting up, yelling.

“Because I didn’t know what else to fucking do!” You gripped your hair at the roots, pulling. “You asked me to fucking kill you, Keigo! You begged me to!”

Keigo sat up, staring you down. He felt so much anger and rage in him, it was bubbling up, “That doesn’t mean you had to hurt yourself like this for me!”

“I didn’t want to hurt myself! I wanted to help you! Using my quirk was all I could do!” You looked over at him, digging your nails into your exposed thighs. “What else was I supposed to do!”

“Exactly what I thought you were doing, helping me!” Keigo screamed back at you. “You were doing so good at it!”

“You wanna know why I could even help?!” You shouted. You grabbed Keigo’s shoulders and brought him inches away from your face. “Because, every night, I got to give myself just a shred of hope that you would get better. That maybe, maybe your wings would come back and you’d smile like you used to instead of yelling at me, and hitting me, and asking me, begging me, to slit your fucking throat!”

 You couldn’t stop crying. Your body was so run down, so depleted, but it still musters up the energy to drip tears like a flooded creek. You wanted to run and leave the bed, retreat to the bathroom where you can break down on the tile in peace, alone where Keigo wouldn’t have to watch. You’d done it enough prior to know he wouldn’t check on you.

 Keigo stared at you with wide eyes. 

He didn’t know what to say at first

He was feeling so much—

 Keigo didn’t know what to do or say.

So, he just twisted the knife, one could say.

 “You should’ve just left if you were really that miserable with me.” Keigo regretted it the moment it left his lips. You tense up, looking at him with a gaze he could only call broken.

 “No,” You grabbed your shoulders, rocking yourself. “No, Kei’, I couldn’t, I won’t—”

“Then stop complaining.” Keigo shrugged. God, this was awful, wasn’t it? Why wouldn’t he just shut up? “You’re the one who stayed and tortured yourself. That’s on you.”

“So you’d rather have that I... left?”

“Duh,” Keigo laughed, staring down your crying form. You’re so decrepit in your current state. He hated looking at you, purely because he knows he was at least a portion of what led to this. But, he’d never admit it. “Fuck, (Y/N), you didn’t have to kill me, and you didn’t have to kill yourself either.” 

 He’s splitting inside as he watches you break in front of him. Some fucked up, sadistic part of him relishes it. The other, muted, more sane part is screaming at him to stop fucking talking-

“You really got yourself hospitalized for overusing a quirk on me that I didn’t even know you had. You were so desperately trying to get me my wings back, all while acting soooo supportive of me trying to live without them?!” Keigo bellowed at you. You cowered, bent legs beginning to slide off the bed — “Do you realize how fucked up that is? That, behind closed doors, while I was fucking asleep, you were trying to fix me? Well, guess what, (Y/N), I’m broken beyond fucking repair, and no cute little shit you pull is going to fix me!”

Keigo shrieked his last words.

You fell off the bed, slamming onto the floor. A sickening crack filled the room as your head, basically unsupported, met the hardwood.

 “Stop it!” You were screaming yourself silly from the floor. Your head hurt so badly. Maybe you were bleeding. You didn’t care. “Stop it!”

You knew you couldn’t handle this.

You were raw. You couldn’t do this. You couldn’t confront any more than you had already that day. Your body hurt so badly and your mind hurt too. Everything Keigo said just rubbed salt in the wounds he helped to create.

“Keigo, just fucking stop it!”

Your vision spun. You thought that maybe you were hyperventilating. You couldn’t feel your hands, numbness beginning to pull at your extremities. 

“I’m fucking sorry!” You wailed. “What would do if you were in my position, Keigo?! Just watch me suffer and not do anything even if you could?!”

Keigo leaned over the bed, giving you the most empty look you’d ever seen him wear. 

“I would’ve just fucking left, (Y/N),” He spoke in a monotone, eyes like dead coals. “I would’ve just left.”

You stared up at him.

This horrible feeling had filled you from toes to top and you couldn’t escape it.

 Keigo didn’t say anything else as you panicked on the floor. He simply got up, left for the guest room, and slammed the door.

 Neither of you ever felt as awful as you did that night.

 --------------------

 Keigo didn’t sleep that night.

Neither did you.

 He figured (he hoped) you’d be gone by the morning. Maybe you would just pack your dusty suitcase and get the fuck out.

...

Truthfully, not a single fragment of Keigo wanted you to leave. No piece of him wanted you to go out of his life. God, if he really thought about it, the prospect of not being side-by-side in this world together threw him into bends of anxiety and pure grief. 

Truthfully, as Keigo silently, tearfully, examined your actions, he felt his anger ebb away.

He understood. 

Why you did what you did.

But it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt. 

Guilt was eating him, too. For all the horrible things he had said. The things he’d done that hurt you without regard for months now. The fact he never noticed you deteriorating. And all the nights you crept back into your shared room, for comfort and to keep trying to help him, though perhaps cruelly. 

 It was dawn when Keigo exited the guestroom. He figured that you were either gone or would be soon.

He was clearly mistaken.

Keigo stopped when he saw you at the kitchen table, head down, and resting on your folded arms. You were wearing a huge sweater, one of his, and a blanket around your shoulders.

Keigo had, incredibly selfishly, somewhat forgotten your physical state.

He ached.

 “I made coffee,” You said quietly. You looked up, meeting Keigo’s gaze with bloodshot, puffy eyes. “It’s still warm.”

“Why are you here?” Keigo asked, heart starting to beat too fast again. “Why haven’t you left-?”

“Do you really want me to leave?” You asked with an unfamiliar edge to your voice. It’s not anger or malice, but something different. You stand, bracing yourself on the table, wobbling. Keigo wanted nothing more than to scoop you into his arms and apologize. But, he doesn’t. 

 You looked at him with this edge of fierce determination, asking the penultimate question, the core of this all, “Keigo, do you want me to leave because of my actions, or do you want me to leave because you don’t think you deserve help?”

There was a poignant quiet over the apartment. 

The birds of the new day interrupted it from outside, chirping with the eos of dawn.

“I don’t think... I—” Keigo was speechless again, stuttering. “You shouldn’t have hurt yourself so bad.”

“That’s been established, I went too far. I should’ve told you, offered and asked, and go from there. It ultimately was a complete breach of boundaries and for that, I’m sorry. Fuck my good intentions, it was selfish.” You squeezed the edge of the table, eyes low. Your gaze turned up sharply to meet his, that edge of determination and fierceness in it that Keigo was unfamiliar with. “My question is, do you want me to leave?”

Keigo stared at his feet. His head was swimming, “You should leave.”

“I asked if you want me to,” You asked again. You were being more firm than you had ever been. You sounded unbreakable. It was that stubbornness that kept you there with him, right?

Keigo met your eyes with a sharp glare, “You should’ve left the night I asked you to kill me.”

You sighed, shaking visibly, but still keeping yourself so strong, “Please just answer me. Do you want me to leave? If we’re going to break up, let’s just call it that, and get it over with, okay Kei’?”

Oh, hearing you say ‘breakup’—

That broke Keigo. 

Having to truly think and reckon with a reality where you weren’t with him and you weren’t facing the horrors of the world together was purely the stuff of nightmares. 

The stupid little facade Keigo had so carefully crafted broke. The burns on his body started to ache anew, somatically. The scar over his eye twitched as tears were gathering anew. 

“N-no,” Keigo hugged himself, shaking his head. “N-no— I don’t want you to go—” 

You didn’t say anything, just watched him with a sad expression.

“Then I won’t.” You sat back down. “Keigo, I know that this is all fucked beyond belief. I know. But, I won’t leave. I really, really don’t want to. I won’t, not unless you want me to go.”

And Keigo was breaking for you again. 

He somehow stumbled next to your chair, managing to fall to his knees and rest his head on your cold, cold thigh. He pressed his nose into your flesh, trying to fucking absorb your smell like you could disappear any moment. 

“Why did you do it-” Keigo sobbed into your skin, nails biting in the flesh of your calves. It made you jerk in your seat. “WHY DID YOU HURT YOURSELF FOR ME!”

You didn’t have a good answer for him, so you didn’t reply. 

Keigo’s grip on the flesh of his leg started to break skin as he wailed into your leg.

You just looked down at him with this expression of pure remorse,  melancholy coloring your eyes.

You grabbed his clawed-hands, recalling the last time you tried a move like this with a twitch. You held his hands in your own, pulling him up, “You can’t do that, Keigo. You’re hurting me.”

“All I DO is hurt YOU!” Keigo crushed you into a tight hug, knocking the wind from you. You jolt forward into his death grip. 

 “It was my choice,” You remind him, so much weakness in your choice. “A very, very selfish one. If I was going to try to heal you, I should’ve asked.”

You started crying with him. 

You both were just torturing yourselves, truthfully. 

 At his core, Keigo was a fucked up man who was so thoroughly repressed and manipulated, it was hard to see his psychological shortcomings. They were all so meticulously hidden. 

But not then, not after losing his wings.

“I’m so fucked up,” Keigo kept crying into you as you had his hands locked together. “I hate myself for being this upset at you when you were trying to help me.”

“Love,” Your voice was so soft, releasing Keigo’s hands to pet his hair. “It wasn’t right for me to try and do what I did. You can’t help how you feel.”

“I could before I lost them!” Keigo muffled himself with your flesh.

Them being his wings, obviously. 

You hauled him upwards, forcing him to sit in your lap. Keigo had always had a bit of size on you, but in your shrunken state, it was even more pronounced. 

“Then you weren’t feeling,” You pressed your face to Keigo’s chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. He entangled himself with you, and you both just held each other for a long, long time.

 ------------------------

In the following six months, a many very important things happen.

Keigo got a place for you for two entire months, just so you two have some separation. After actually having a calm talk about your relationship dynamic since Keigo’s injury, it was comically apparent there were so many fucked up things that had happened and that you both needed a bit of time to collect yourselves.

It was a hard separation, but you still see each other at least half of the days of your time apart, and even a few that you snuck over for the night to stay over. Keigo was so, so thankful. Being wrapped in each other was a different experience, something actually healing. 

You both got therapists, next. A couples therapist too. 

Thank God. 

Keigo had oodles of trauma to sort through, and you had your own shit to deal with as well. Not to mention the whole ‘Keigo being a dick to you because he was hurt doesn’t justify it’ kinda broke your brain for a second. Also, Keigo having to process ‘he was capital A abusive to you after he got hurt, and your only stability being the hope in healing you is much more complicated than just them trying to ‘fix’ you’ was a case of note. 

It was weird, really. 

 When you moved back, fully, to Keigo’s (you weren’t sure if you could call it ‘your’ apartment anymore), it was nerve-wracking. It was under the understanding that you could move out if you needed to, that separation and an ending were just a corner away.

It made you feel more unstable than you had in months, but you kept up with it. 

Keigo noticed, much more observant than he had been. About two weeks into you returning to the apartment, he asked the question, “What if we moved?”

You had been quietly eating your breakfast, but this startled you, “Move? Why?”

“I mean,” Keigo sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. His gaze flickered to the living room, recalling the times he broke down and was so awful to you. It shifted to the bedroom door where you broke boundaries over and over. “A lot of bad stuff happened here. If we’re going to have a fresh start, might as well live somewhere new, right?”

You mused on it for a moment, then nodded, “Yeah, that would be good.”

The next few weeks were the most healthy and productive that you and Keigo ever had, pre- or post-injury. Apartment hunting turned into purchasing a two-floored, highrise, insanely nice condo across the city. Keigo suggested buying a house, but you refused. You both liked the views too much to live somewhere so close to the ground.

You packed your things, mutually. You both threw away plenty, bits and bobs that had been relatively unused for a long time. Lots of old memories were thrown out to make way for new ones. Though it was sad and there was plenty of grief in it, you actually had each other this time. 

When you found Keigo sobbing, clutching an old picture of him and Touya, one of the only of him from his childhood with the Commission, you held him and rocked him. You cried with him, not just settling for ‘dealing’ with him anymore. 

When you cleaned out the kitchen, you found the two dozen extra vitamins and extracts you had been taking while healing Keigo. You stared at him, idly, for ten minutes, somewhere far off in your head. Keigo came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you. Softly, he pulled you back from your mind. He helped you throw away each bottle, talking reverently to you so your gaze and mind would stay in that moment, and not those past and unsavory.  

You helped each other, or, were learning to.

 You and Keigo both had to agree that shopping for furniture was probably the most fun the two of you had in a while. With a facemask and a beanie on, Keigo appeared a lot less like his former self, allowing for the two of you to covertly search for new homewares without prying crowds.

The old apartment had originally been Keigo’s from his early years of being a hero. You simply moved in with him, adding yourself to his space. This time, you were making it together. 

 “What do you think of this one?” You turned to Keigo, next to you. Both of you laid on top of a fairly nice mattress, the store relatively empty aside from the employees and the two of you.

“I think it's good, it’s not too soft,” Keigo turned and smiled at you, speaking from behind his mask. 

You couldn’t help sitting up, tugging the cloth mask just a bit lower to drop a sweet kiss on the side of his mouth, “Get out the credit card then, babe.”

 The condo was sorted within a few weeks, full of furniture and slowly being decorated. 

You also had the opportunity to christen the mattress, if you will.

...

How long had it been since you and Keigo had laid together like this? 

Your bodies were sticky with sweat and cum, several rounds having passed throughout the night. Your new mattress was going to need a fresh change of sheets after this.

“Hey, angel, come over here,” Keigo tugged you closer to him, laying your head on his chest. You smiled softly, pressing closer. You missed it, truly, the warmth of his body and the feeling of his skin on your own like this.

“Alright, check-in,” Keigo pressed a kiss to your damp forehead. “You feeling okay?”

“I feel great,” You hummed, throwing a leg over his waist. “I can honestly keep going.”

“Should you?” Keigo raised an eyebrow and chuckled, nudging a knee between your legs. You flinched, knowing how sore you’d be in the morning already. 

Though your body had recovered somewhat, you weren’t fully back to where you were before Keigo’s injury. You didn’t mind, though. Keigo had taken to doting on you a bit more than he used to. 

You shrugged and Keigo just chuckled, bringing you ever-closer. 

“Are you okay?” You straddled Keigo’s hips, cocking your head to one side. 

Keigo was silent for a moment, stormy almost. He bit his lip, tracing hands and eyes over your figure, finally landing on your face. His softened hands cupped your jaw. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” His thumb rubbed over your lips. There’s something so melancholic about him. “I just missed you.”

You knew exactly what he meant by ‘miss’.

 It was a feeling beyond sex, but rather intimacy. Sure, Keigo had been balls deep in you for the first time in months and that was ecstasy you wouldn’t trade the world for. But, this feeling Keigo regarded was different.

It had been so long since the two of you had been so softened around each other.

Guards, after months of being raised high, had begun to fall.

  Thank God.

 Your eyes watered as you lowered your face to his, ghosting your lips over his, “I missed you too, Kei’. I missed you so, so much.”

 How many minutes of hell had your both endured? And how many were there still to go? Thoughts of fear and anguish constantly swirled within the two of you for so long. They certainly hadn’t stopped, but they were lessening. Therapy helped. Being in the new place with a fresh start did wonders for the two you. Keigo’s passion for cooking continued to grow and you had taken up a few new hobbies of your own. 

It was the mundane, you supposed, that was the stitching for broken relationships. The real healing of proverbial flesh and bone was intimacy, vulnerability, and love.

“Hey, Kei’,” You kissed him breathless, once, twice, three times. “I love you, you know? A lot.”

“Yeah?” Keigo giggled, something high and light that he wouldn’t have released a year ago. “I love you too. So much.”

 The night continued in tender fucking, the two of you visibly watching wounds begin to grow smaller and scar, no more fire, and no more forced stitchings. 

Salvation came from time and small things, you supposed, half-asleep and nestled neck to Keigo, feeling better than you had in a long time.  

---------------

     You supposed, some time later, that karma gave the two of you a small gift. In the eyes of all things, it must’ve been just a spec, but God, it was something. 

     ...

They had come back over a year and half from when you had tried to heal Keigo. 

The attempt wasn’t forgotten, no, but it certainly wasn’t at the forefront of your minds like it used to be. Except the one morning that Keigo got up before you, sleepily yawning his way to the bathroom.

You heard his sharp gasp, loud exclamations in your half asleep state.

“Babe?” Your voice hoarse with sleep, you spoke. “You okay?”

Keigo jumped onto the bed, straddling over you and the comforter. 

“(Y/N)!” Oh, his eyes were wet. Soft, gooey tears were streaming down his face as he shakily grabbed your wrists. He pressed them to the scars of his back.

Your eyes went wide as your hands brushed against small, soft feathers. 

“Keigo!” You shouted, sitting up, urging him to turn around so you could take a better look. 

Keigo trembled as he bared his back to you. 

Your breath caught as your hands trailed down his marred flesh.

The scars, old and worn now, had faded a great deal. The charred plain calmed with time, perhaps by your own touch and very much so by Keigo’s own cells and flesh.

But, in the center of his back, where the roots of his wings once were, was something growing anew.

Small, burgundy feathers were growing from spindly looking, down-covered bones and skin.

They were small, nothing like his old wings. More aged, with their darker color. The feathers felt softer as you ran your hands along the largest, no bigger than your hand from wrist to tip.

Keigo shuddered.

“Do... Do they feel like they used to?” You asked, transfixed.

Keigo shakily shook his head, “N-no, they feel less sensitive I think. They feel different.”

...

 As Keigo had healed and changed, so had his body.

His wings never grew to their own old size and power, not even close. They couldn’t support his own body weight, so Keigo never flew again. But, the feathers, wine-colored and almost bruised looking, could be sent to do small tasks, much like his old ones.  

At first, it seemed cruel. After so long and so much, his wings grew back but in such a decrepit form. For days, the two of you waited and waited to see what the final form of his regrowth would be. In the end, at their best, they stretched out to about the span of Keigo’s arms. The feathers weren’t symmetrical either, even at their peak regrowth. Some grew in fluffy and rounded, while others were jagged, sticking out awkwardly from the rest of his form. 

Over time, the inherent disappointment and despondence turned into appreciation.

Because they had come back, it just took time. 

...

With enough time, Keigo wore them proudly, no matter how oddly they stuck out from his marred skin. Keigo’s body was still too damaged to do hero work proper, but he still was kept around.

At the end of the day, the feathers colored like dried blood represented something far larger. If the completely destroyed number two hero could come back to even a fraction of his former, angelic glory, that was something, right?

It was like in the eyes of all things, you were both awarded a physical manifestation of healing. The gnarly wings that grew from Keigo’s body may have been off-putting to some, but to the two of you, it was a testament to it all.

It just took time. 

[comfortbucky]

𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵: 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭

gif credit: @buckysbarnes <3

summary: the reader was a pararescue along with sam and riley and was engaged to riley. what happens when she gets roped into the world of captain america? or when she meets bucky barnes? this chapter takes place during ca:ws and will closely follow the canon mcu timeline.

pairing: bucky x fem!reader

warnings: angst(?) i guess?? idk

A/N: OMGGGGGGG cannot believe chapter 1 is here but we made it folks!!! this is mainly to introduce the reader so... kind of slow but i hope y'all enjoy anyways!!! also speaking of slow...this story is literally going to be the SLOWEST OF BURNS so keep that in mind (like bucky is not in this chapter at all)

also pls give me feedback in the comments! i'm new to writing and would love to hear ur input hehe :)

if u would like to be added to the taglist, pls send me a message! :)

word count: 2k

series masterlist!

“Look who it is, the running man.” Sam looked up at Steve as he made his way to a table to organize pamphlets. Steve was about to reply when a voice shouted down the hall.

“Hey, Sam! Great session today!”

Sam and Steve turned their heads towards the voice approaching them.

“My only complaint is the snacks, you need better ones.” Y/N flashed a grin to Sam as she took a bite of a stale cookie, only to have the rest of it crumble in her hands.

“See!” Y/N said, her voice muffled as she tried to prevent crumbs from falling out of her mouth. “What good is it for me to come here only to end up with this?” She stretched her hands out to show Sam the remaining crumbs before tossing them out in a nearby trash can.

“Oh, I don’t know. The therapy? Healing?” Sam crossed his arms as Y/N let out a laugh and turned to introduce herself to the blonde man standing next to her.

“Hey- oh my god! You’re Captain America!”

Steve chuckled and extended his hand out for her to shake.

“Please, call me Steve.”

“Y/N.” Y/N shook his hand, eyes wide, and slowly turned to Sam.

“Are you friends with Captain America? When- How did I not know this?”

Sam smirked.

“I thought I was your only friend Samuel, I’m proud of you.”

Sam’s face immediately fell as Y/N and Steve shared a laugh.

“Well, I have errands to run, but it was an absolute honor to meet you Cap- Steve.” Y/N turned to smile at Steve. He returned the smile and watched as she walked away.

Y/N turned around and continued to walk backward as she yelled out to Sam.

“I’ll see you later Sam! Remember The Bachelor starts at 8 and please bring anything but those stale cookies!”

Sam and Steve chuckled as Y/N disappeared through the doors of the VA, signing off with a wave before turning the corner.

“Speaking of your session, caught the last few minutes, it’s pretty intense.” Steve leaned against the wall, as Sam started to organize the messy stack of pamphlets.

“Yeah, brother. We all got the same problems.” Sam continued to keep his eyes on the task in front of him as Steve watched.

“Guilt, regret.” Sam continued and looked up at Steve with a look in his eyes that Steve was familiar with. Loss.

“You lose someone?”

“My wingman, Riley. Flying a night mission. Standard PJ rescue op. Nothing me, him, and Y/N hadn’t done 1,000 times before. ‘Til an RPG knocked Riley’s dumbass out of the sky. Nothing we could do. It’s like we were up there just to watch.” Steve raised his eyebrows upon hearing Y/N mentioned.

“I’m sorry.”

“After that, I had a really hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know? Same thing for Y/N, maybe even worse. She was engaged to Riley, had the whole damn wedding planned out in a notebook. He was the last thing keeping her over there after everything she went through.”

Steve was taken aback to learn a little about Y/N’s backstory. He never would have suspected that a person who exuded confidence like her to have gone through such a tragedy. He could tell by the look in Sam’s eyes that there was probably more to her story, but couldn’t go further into it out of respect to her.

“But you’re happy now, back in the world? Both of you?”

Sam turned side to side to look at the empty hallway they stood in. “The number of people giving me orders is down to about zero.” He chuckled. “So, hell yeah. And I don’t want to speak for Y/N, but she’s made a lot of progress. I’m proud of her.” He paused as he looked at Steve. “Are you thinking about getting out?”

Steve stared at the ground.

“No.” He paused. “I don’t know.” He returned his eye contact with Sam. “To be honest, I don’t know what I would do with myself if I did.”

“Ultimate fighting?” Steve chuckled at Sam’s comment. “Just a great idea off the top of my head.” Sam smiled as he continued. “Seriously, you could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?”

Steve paused, hearing a question he hadn’t thought about in years.

“I don’t know.”

After their run, Sam and Y/N went back to Sam’s place to cool down. Sam made his way over to the fridge as Y/N unscrewed the cap of her water bottle.

“Do you want to order some pizza later? I heard about this new place near mine that we could try.” She said, before taking a sip of her water.

“We just ran 5 miles and you’re already thinking about pizza?”

“You’re not?”

Sam unscrewed the cap of his orange juice and was about to reply when there was a knocking coming from his porch door. Y/N and Sam gave each other both a puzzled look before Sam went to go see who had knocked. He opened the blinds to reveal a soot-covered Captain America and Black Widow. Sam slid the door open to greet them.

“Hey man.”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder before doing a double-take when she saw Steve Rogers, Captain America, and Black Widow. She made her way over as Steve started to explain the reason for his sudden arrival.

“I’m sorry about this. We need a place to lay low.” Steve looked at Sam and Y/N with desperation in his eyes.

“Everyone we know is trying to kill us,” Natasha said, her eyes darting between Sam and Y/N. Sam turned to look at Y/N and then back at the two Avengers out on his porch.

“Not everyone,” Sam replied back, letting Steve and Natasha follow Y/N into his home as he checked outside to make sure the pair hadn’t been followed.

As Steve and Natasha cleaned themselves up in Sam’s bathroom, Y/N and Sam started to prepare breakfast in the kitchen. Y/N stopped flipping the pancakes she had been cooking and turned to Sam.

“Do you ever miss being in the Air Force?”

Sam paused, letting his scrambled eggs simmer in the pan. He turned to face Y/N.

“Sometimes. I think the part I missed the most was being able to help people. That’s what led me to run these sessions. I’m still helping people, even if it’s in a different way.”

Y/N smiled at him before continuing to cook the pancakes in front of her. She had always seen Sam as an admirable man with a heart of gold. He cared so much for everyone around him, especially those closest to him. It was so special for her to see the relationship that had formed between him and Riley. Sam would always be looking out for Riley, from the first days of training to that last rescue op. Which is probably why he had beaten himself up so much when it went horribly wrong. But Sam, being the man he is, decided to channel his energy into helping other veterans with PTSD rather than letting his grief and regret control his life. Like Y/N had.

“You think they eat breakfast?” She shot a grin at Sam. He rolled his eyes.

“They’re people Y/N, of course, they eat breakfast.”

“They’re Avengers Sam, that’s a whole other level of being. Steve is literally a super-soldier.”

Sam paused.

“I can’t believe you’re actually making me seriously consider this.”

Sam walked over to his room to get the Avengers and Y/N overheard him talking to them.

“Y/N and I made breakfast,” he paused. “If you guys eat that… sort of thing.”

Y/N chuckled softly as Steve and Natasha took their first bites of their breakfast. Neither Steve or Natasha paid any mind, too hungry and tired to notice, as Sam shot a look at Y/N.

“So, the question is, who at S.H.I.E.L.D could launch a domestic missile strike?” Natasha said as she leaned against the kitchen table.

Sam and Y/N exchanged looks before looking back at Steve and Natasha.

It only took Steve a second to think before saying, “Pierce.”

“Who happens to be sitting on top of the most secure building in the world.” Natasha made her way over to Steve, who was sitting at Sam’s desk.

“But he’s not working alone. Zola’s algorithm was on the Lemurian Star.”

Natasha turned her head to face Steve.

“So was Jasper Sitwell.”

Steve turned his head to meet Natasha’s eyes and paused. Y/N and Sam watched at the Avengers intently, despite not knowing what it was they were going on about. They made brief eye contact and Y/N saw a look in Sam’s eyes she hadn’t seen since their time in the Air Force.

“So, the real question is, how do the two most wanted people in Washington kidnap a S.H.I.E.L.D. officer in broad daylight?”

As the words left Steve’s mouth, Sam had already put down his toast to grab a file and walk over to Steve. Y/N felt her stomach drop as she caught a glimpse of the folder in Sam’s hands. Sam gave her a reassuring look as he dropped the file onto the desk in front of Steve.

“The answer is, you don’t.”

“What’s this?” Steve gave Sam a puzzled look as he leaned forward to get a better look at the file presented to him.

“Call it a resume,” Sam stated, leaning against the kitchen table. Y/N took a spot next to Sam, turning to face him as Sam kept his gaze looking straight ahead.

“Are you sure about this?” She spoke softly, to avoid Steve and Natasha hearing her.

Sam turned to Y/N.

“I’m sure,” he returned his gaze to Steve and Natasha. “Plus, I think Riley would beat my ass if he found out I said no to helping out the Avengers.”

Y/N smiled at hearing Riley’s name. She knew Sam was right, Riley had fawned over the Avengers, especially Steve, wanting to always do good like them. He had always admired Steve’s bravery and desire to do the right thing, even if it went against what he was being told to do. The same attitude that got Riley killed.

“But I’m volunteering myself, not you.” Sam turned back to Y/N. “Only you know if you’re ready or not to get back out there. And it’s okay if you’re not.” Sam gave a comforting smile and Y/N gave one back in return.

Steve, still staring at the file in front of him, began to stand up as Natasha made her way over to the desk. She grabbed the folder off the table to examine the picture of Sam, Riley, and Y/N.

“Is this Bakhmala? The Khalid Khandil mission, that was you guys?” Natasha looked up from the picture and directed her attention to Sam and Y/N as they both nodded. “You didn’t say they were pararescues.” She said as she handed the picture over to Steve.

Steve looked up at Sam and Y/N after taking a quick glance at the photo. “Is this Riley?”

“Yeah,” Sam spoke softly as Y/N placed her hand on his shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

Natasha gave the picture one last look-over before glancing over at Sam and Y/N. “I heard they couldn’t bring in the choppers because of the RPGs.” Y/N frowned hearing “RPGs,” thinking back to the worst night of her life. “What’d you use? A stealth chute?”

“No,” Sam pushed himself from the kitchen table and grabbed the file from the desk in front of him. “These.” He gave the file to Steve as he retreated back to his spot next to Y/N.

Steve studied the file in his hands before looking up. “I thought you said you guys were pilots.”

Sam chucked. “I never said pilot.”

“Yeah, definitely not. I wouldn’t trust him to stick the landing” Y/N giggled as Sam playfully hit her shoulder.

“You’re never going to let me live that down are you?”

“Nope.”

Steve cleared his throat, drawing the attention of Y/N and Sam. He was still looking down at the file when he shook his head and looked up at Sam.

“I can’t ask you to do this, Sam. You got out for a good reason,” Steve shifted his gaze to Y/N. “You too, Y/N. Both of you have already sacrificed enough for the greater good.”

Sam quickly interjected. “Dude, Captain America needs my help. There’s no better reason to get back in.”

All eyes fell on Y/N to speak up. She looked to Sam and gave him a reassuring nod.

She took a deep breath and said, “Well, someone’s gotta keep an eye on Sam,” she smiled at Steve. “Besides, I’d do anything for Captain America.”

Steve smiled back and paused before saying, “Where can we get our hands on one of these things?”

Sam crossed his arms. “They’re at Fort Meade.”

“Behind three guarded gates and a 12-inch steel wall, I might add.” Y/N looked at Steve and Natasha only to find Natasha shrugging at Steve.

“Shouldn’t be a problem.” Steve smiled at Sam and Y/N, thankful to have them join the team. He and Natasha walked away from the group to plan their quick detour to obtain Sam and Y/N’s gear.

Sam turned to Y/N with a worried look in his eyes. “Are you sure about this? You don’t need to throw yourself back into combat just because I am.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at his comment. “Sam, I am capable of making decisions on my own.” She looked down as she began to fidget with her fingers. “Riley was my entire world; almost felt like my only reason for living at times.” She paused before looking up to meet Sam’s eyes. “I think I lost myself in loving him somewhere along the way. But this opportunity with Steve and Natasha, it might give me a chance to find myself again.” She smiled as Sam pulled her into a hug.

“Sounds like you’re ready to start running group sessions at the VA.” Sam chuckled as he and Y/N pulled back from their hug.

“Yeah, and they’d be better than yours with the snacks alone.”

“Hey now, watch it-” Sam was interrupted by Steve and Natasha reappearing in the living room.

“You guys ready to suit up? Nat figured out a way in.”

Y/N smiled at Sam before turning back to Steve.

“What the hell are we waiting for?”

chapter 2