#and sometimes i feel so wired i need everyone to leave so i can spread out

[enemy-to-the-state]

.

[weird-fishes-i-reckon]

Is your power out? Here’s what you need to know about the restoration process:

Yes, your power being out is horrible, it’s dangerous especially if you are chronically ill, or live on well and septic and therefore don’t have access to water. Believe me, the scouting and linemen crews working on restoring your electricity know that. Most of us get into this field because we’ve been in a similar situation.

This is the daily process for your linemen and scouting crews: they wake up well before the sun even thinks of rising, they go to their designated operations center, they get debriefed on safety, and are then assigned tickets. Tickets are reports for power outages along the power grid. They are required to start with the ticket that has the most customers out, and then work their way down. Scouts finish at sundown, linemen keep working through the night if they can safely do so. They meet back up with their team, debrief, and then sleep and repeat.

This is the construction of your power grid system: you have transmission lines (those big pylons) that go to a substation. Each substation steps down the voltage and splits the electricity into circuits.

Each circuit leaves the substation as a backbone that covers a certain location. If the substation is the brain, then the backbone is exactly that. Each backbone has taps - which are like ribs - and they spread out, sometimes with taps of their own. The secondary wire will run from a transformer on the pole to your house. Each house is serviced by one secondary, whether it’s overhead or underground.

Yesterday I had a ticket with 1,107 customers affected. It was a problem with the backbone and because of that, everyone downstream didn’t have power. It’s almost like being paralyzed at a certain vertebrae. We fixed the backbone, but there were still people who had their power out because a tree fell on a tap or secondary. That adds time to the getting your power on. If we started with the tickets that only have one customer out, we could fix your pole or your wire, but the power might not come back on.

The people who are scouting are not allowed to and not able to tell you when your power will return. They figure out what caused the outage and then create a list of what the line crew needs to fix it. They can put in the notes if it’s urgent, like if your elderly mother is on a breathing apparatus or something, but that’s not a guarantee that you will be seen quickly.

Please keep your dogs leashed or behind a fence that will hold them back. If someone needs to be in your backyard, bring your dog inside. One of our guys got bit hard on the leg yesterday. That’s one less person able to work, the power will now take longer to come back on.

Yelling at the crews will not make them work faster.

In extra heavily affected areas, sometimes entire swaths of power infrastructure are completely obliterated. They will need to be entirely rebuilt from the ground up. This will take Even More time than usual to get power restored.

Electricity is dangerous. Your standard American outlet has 120 volts of electricity. Your standard neighborhood power line has 15 kilovolts (15000 volts) of electricity, backbones can have 25 kilovolts. Don’t. Touch. The. Wire. Always assume the wire is live (has electricity running through it). I have seen a squirrel instantly grilled because it was grounded while touching a live wire. Just don’t fucking do it.

If you’re walking in an area with power line damage and your feet feel hot or tingly all of a sudden, you’re not tripping, you’re feeling electrical currents. Back away.

Transmission lines run anywhere above 39 kilovolts. It can go up to 765 kilovolts. If transmission goes down, it will affect the whole substation and the people served by that substation. If you see dangling transmission wire or you see it on the ground or in the water (god forbid) stay FAR AWAY. DONT GET CLOSE. Report it IMMEDIATELY.

The crew has two jobs: restore the power, and come home at the end of the day. The second one is the most important. Our job alone is extremely dangerous, if we assess a situation or environment to be too dangerous to do our work, we will have to wait until the situation has improved. Active flooding is one of those situations.

If you are in an area that has experienced a lot of rain or flooding, your power might go out a lot during the next few months, even after it’s restored. Trees with shallow root systems like pines and water oaks will loose a lot of grip with the ground because of how disturbed the soil gets. You should stay aware of falling trees if you’re in an area with an abundance of trees that have shallow roots.

Please stay safe, please stay aware.

[saviorellie]

this will do.

pairing : ellie williams x reader

pov : third person , she/her pronouns

word count : 1,282 words

warning(s) : just fluff!!! college!ellie au!!! pinning!!!

notes : I’M ALIVE. yearly rebrand for the new hyperfixation. i need ellie williams desperately. that’s all!

masterlist

“y/n,” was the first word ellie spoke into the phone. “what’s up?”

her backpack was slipping off her shoulder. she just let it fall.

“can i come in?” she asked quietly. there was movement on the other end of the line.

“of course, y/n. you don’t need to ask.”

she didn’t respond.

“i’ll be out in a minute, okay? just got out of the shower- ‘m changing.”

she opened the door to her friend’s dorm room with the spare key ellie had gotten just for her. her space was warm and comforting and smelled of her, smokey and like home. but the tears came anyway.

ellie could feel it because she knows her. and has or ever a decade. but she didn’t expect to find her like this.

on a normal day, she would’ve had her backpack zipped open on the couch, her notebooks and laptop and ridiculous assortment of pens and highlighters and pencils spread out across the table. she would’ve pulled the blinds up and ridiculed ellie for failing to let light into her small apartment. she would’ve been rifling though her bare cabinets, trying and failing to find food to cook her an actual meal so she isn’t just living off of noodles and apple juice and weed. she would’ve glanced up at her best friend with gentle eyes and graced her with an even gentler hug.

but today, in the solitude and darkness of ellie’s apartment, she was sitting folded into herself on the couch.

it was easy for ellie to approach her, it was easy to crouch down and sit on the coffee table in front of her. if was difficult, however, to realize that she was avoiding eye contact. she knew. she was crying.

and there was just silence. ellie waited, watching her form shake while her heart sunk deeper into her chest with every passing second.

then finally, finally, she called out for her.

“ellie…” she whispered, and she was moving.

the couch cushions shifted as she sat next to her, pulling her in. as ellie tucked her head under her chin, her throat swelled with fear; she rarely saw this side of her and wanted nothing more than to take her pain away.

she was the composed one. she saw everything in her life in a positive light, taking things as they were and accepting whatever happened to her. she was compassionate and a great listener and an even better friend. the range of her emotions was about as diverse as one could imagine, but she was so talented in hiding her stresses that at times, even ellie didn’t notice until it built up so high that it just poured out.

here she was, the girl-ellie’s girl-that was always taking care of her and everyone else before herself. her work and her high expectations for herself had reduced to a bleak, discouraged figure in her friend’s embrace.

“angel,” ellie muttered, because she was still crying and her heart felt heavy and sometimes the line between best friend and more blurred and she forgot her place. she didn’t need a lover right now. she needed her best friend.

“i just… i just want to give up. i’m so tired,” she slurred long after ellie had lost track of time. once the tears had ceased and the shaking had subsided.

ellie just closed her eyes, searching for her hand in the dark. it made her so sad that the stress of college and work and bills and just living affected her hard-wired, determined, passionate self. she wanted to take it away and make if feel better. because that’s what she always did for her.

“it’ll be okay. you’ll, we’ll, figure it out. you always do.”

she nodded, just slightly, against her chest.

“i know,” she said. but the defeated sound would not leave her.

ellie didn’t really think through what she was doing as her hand brushed through her hair, brushing it back from her face. she was just exhausted. she needed comfort and ellie was going to give it as best she could.

“you gotta let me take care of you,” she sighed. “you can sleep here, if you want.”

she grunted out a noise of disapproval.

“no,” she muttered, but the softness in her voice betrayed her.

“you’re so stubborn,” ellie shot back and she laughed, just a little. and that was enough.

ellie swiveled on her heel when she heard her shuffling into the kitchen, smiling a bit at her disheveled appearance. it was harder than normal to ignore that she was in love with her on days like this.

she came right over and leaned into her side. naturally, her arm circled ellie’s waist and ellie’s arm rested on top of her shoulders as she peered into the pot she was stirring on the stove.

“what is going on?” she scoffed, because she was making actual food.

what was going on was that she has been serious earlier. about taking care of her.

after she’d fallen asleep earlier, ellie situated her on the couch and piled blankets on top of her because she was freezing all the time. although she didn’t want to chance being gone when she woke up, she didn’t have any food in her apartment and the protective side of her, reserved only for the girl sleeping on her couch, told her that was a problem. weighing her options, she went to the convenience store a couple streets over and grabbed the ingredients her favorite soup called for.

she pulled away from her best friend and hoisted herself up onto the counter next to the stove, leaning her head back on the wooden cabinet. ellie could tell she was thinking, so she left her alone. that is, until she noticed she was watching her.

“what?” she asked gently.

she just stared at her for a second. her beautiful, kind best friend. her auburn hair was falling out her bun and into her face and she had to resist the urge to push it back.

“thank you.”

ellie’s head tilted to the side.

“for what?” she moved a little closer and the girl beside her shrugged.

“i don’t know. it’s just…” she looked down at her lap, shifting on the granite countertop. “I’m still exhausted and overwhelmed and sad, but i know that you’ll be there so… i don’t know. it’s okay.”

she opened her arms lazily in ellie’s direction, the corners of her lips lifting in the slightest manner. so ellie hugged her. and her heart hurt.

then she pulled away, that dangerous thought invading her mind, the idea that the emotion in her eyes when she looked at her was how it felt for her to be in love with her best friend. the idea that she should risk it all and press a kiss to her cheek or forehead and gauge her reaction.

so instead, ellie stirred her soup and sat with her in comfortable silence.

“i love you,” she whispered, playing with the rings on her fingers.

ellie felt her breath hitch. she had said i love you to her before. but this felt different. she just didn’t know if it felt different for her too.

“i… i love you too.” she reached for her hand, running her thumb over the back of it. the silence returned, but ellie was no longer comfortable.

ellie didn’t know if what she felt would ever become reality- being more with her. but she did know that she was never going to stop caring for her and releasing her stress and doing little things to make her smile up at her with the glow she only held in her apartment.

but for now, this is plenty. this is enough. this will do.

[thismaydestroyme]

Making out with h after the show to calm him down

author's note: i’m so sorry it took me forever to write this. i literally just saw this. i hope you like it.

word count: 1658

All day Harry has been too jolly. He’s happy the majority of the time, but today is a whole different level of happiness. You were worried after the first night of Chicago that Harry would be sad or feel disparaged after everyone in the pit were holding signs that said, “Justice for TBSL.” Harry knew all of his fans including you would want him to sing that song. However, you were wrong because he woke up feeling happy and jazzy.

**

You’re in Harry’s backstage room preparing for his show tonight. He’s set to be on stage in 15 minutes. Harry demanded you should be in his room with him before he goes on stage because he told you it helps him with his anxiety. Of course you couldn’t say no to him. He’s Harry fuckin’ Styles for christ sake.

“I have a surprise for youuuu.” Harry said all smirky. You’re on his lap with your legs around him so you too can be face to face.

“A surprise for mommy? I should’ve known. You were a bit cherry today.” You said giving him a quick peck on his lips. He shakes his head because he disapproves how quick the kiss was. You raised your eyebrows to signify he needs to stop his mini fit. Harry leans over to have his forehead on yours. You shake your head a little bit, not enough to detach his forehead from yours.

“You’re being a tease.” He whispered. Harry loves having this moment with you before he has to go on stage. He loves performing. The stage is where he feels he can truly connect with his fans and interact with them. Deep down you feel that’s the only reason why he makes music. Sometimes it’s for him but overall it’s for them. It's for them to interpret their own feelings and emotions. Harry is just there to guide them. Harry is their vacuum.

“How am I being teased? You just told me you have a surprise for me, but you’re not telling me.” You said nudging his head back so he can look at you. Harry opens his eyes and just stares at you. He gives you a toothy grin.

“It’s a surprise baby.”

**

Harry is prancing around the stage with a rainbow boa around his neck. He looks like a goddess. A fan threw Harry a sunglasses which reminded you of Elton John because how could you not think of Elton when you see glasses like that. Harry puts the sunglasses on and the stadium started to loose their fucking shit. Harry grins at the fans reaction. You knew that would boost Harry fuckin’ ego. Fucker.

Harry took the boa off his neck and gave it to a fan which they all started fighting for.

“Relax. Relax. There’s more where that came from.” Harry said to the microphone and that made everyone scream. You brought your hands to your ears. You regretted not taking the headphone Harry told you to wear. You thought you could handle it, but these Chicago shows are on a whole different level. These Chicago fans are menace.

The band starts to play and that prompts you to bring your hands down from your ears. You know that sound from anywhere because that’s one of your favorite songs off this album. You didn’t believe it because Harry was serious about not playing this song on tour.

“Don't blame me for falling. I was just a little boy.” Harry looked in your direction and gave you a wink and went back to serenading the crowd. You feel the entire stadium shake beneath your feet. Was this Harry's surprise? To sing “To be so lonely?” You stepped forward to have a better fucking look at your man who’s still wearing that bedazzled sunglasses. Harry is swaying his hips back and forth giving the people what they wanted and giving them a front row ticket to “Horntown Harry.”

You arrogant son of a bitch.

**

After Harry kissed his fans goodbye he ran backstage full speed. You decide to meet him back in his room. You got there first, surprisingly because you’re wearing your Doc boots and you’re starting to feel blisters starting to form. At this point you’re practically waddling. Harry burst in the room finding you in front of his makeup vanity.

“Baby.” Harry said out of breath.

You push yourself off from the vanity and walk towards him. “Mmmh was that my surprise baby?” You said finally in reach where you can push back his loose curls that came undone during his performance.

“Yeah. Did you like it mommy?” He whispered, pushing his face against your hand.

“Mommy liked it very much. So did your fans.” You said grabbing his chins so he can look directly in your eyes. You look down and you see he’s getting a hard on. “Is my baby horny?” You grip his chin harder. He let out a groan and nodded his head. “Baby, I need words.”

“Yes mommy. I need you.” He said and you could tell he’s entering his subspace. You rather him not slip into that headspace because you guys will be leaving this venue in twenty minutes and when Harry enters that space. He hits fucking hard. “Well baby. I think you should lock that door so I can take care of you. Don’t you agree?” You pout rubbing the small area of his chin.

“Yes.”

“Yes to whom?”

“Yes mommy.” Harry whimpered.

“That’s my good boy. Go lock the door.” Harry bolted from your gasp so he could lock the door. You turn around to walk to the small couch that’s across from the door. You spread your legs open. Harry looks at you and you notice that he licked his lips.

“Don’t be shy. Come sit on mommy’s lap.” You pat your hand on your thigh. Harry immediately walks over to you. He spreads his legs so he his legs are on either side of you. You place your hands on his waist rubbing small circles with your thumbs.

“Have I been good?” Harry whispered looking at you with his green doe eyes. You lick your lip and let out a sigh. You love seeing Harry like this. Knowing that you’re the only one who gets to see him in this way. He’s your own personal fucktoy.

“Oh baby, you've been so good to me. You’ve been so good that I believe you deserve a treat.” You said. Harry perked up and you could see all the excitement in his eyes.

“Really?”

“Yes really,” You giggled. It’s like his own version of Christmas day. Being able to pick his own toys out. “What would you like, baby?” You said leaning forward to plant a kiss on his neck. Harry lets out a soft moan. Harry leans his head back so you can have more room to assault his neck. You made sure you left some marks on his neck. You realize Harry didn’t say anything so you stopped.

“Mommy. Why did you stop?” Harry whined.

“Because you didn’t answer my question baby.” You gave him a smirk still rubbing on his waist.

“Ummm…” Harry is trying to think of something. You can see wheels turning in his head, and you couldn’t help but to get excited.

“I want you to use your vibrator on me like you did last week. I came so hard just by the vibrator on my balls. Can we do that again?” Harry said all excitedly.

You couldn’t help but smile at your pretty boy. “Of course we can, darling. But can you give mommy a kiss?” You pouted. Harry grabs the back of your hair and pushes you forwards. You both moan out loving the taste of each other’s mouths. You feel his tongue trancing the bottom of your lip waiting for you to let him in. When you let him in he consumes your mouth. All you could taste from was his minty gum he was chewing before he got on stage. Harry starts to grind on you so you remove your hands from his waist so you can grope that ass he’s been flauting the entire night. The kiss got so heated and you too couldn’t get enough from each other.

Harry’s hands are now on your back and he unclasped your bra. He went under your bra wires so he could squeeze that voluptuous double D’s you took pride in,

“Mommy I nee-”

“We leave in five mintuies.” Jeff shouted while he was banging on the door. Harry got scared and hid his face between your neck. You toss your head back and annoyed how Jeff basically cock blcoked you. You remember Harry is still in his subspace so you remove your hands from his ass and bring it to his back so you gently rub his back.

“It’s okay baby. It was Jeff.” You whispered, still staring at the tile on the ceiling.

You feel something wet on your neck and before you could even question it you hear Harry sniffling. “Baby are you okay? Talk to me.” You try forcing Harry to look at you but he wouldn’t budge so you went back to soothing him, rubbing his back up and down. You both were silent hoping Harry would come back to you.

After a couple of minutes Harry moves his face from your neck and stares at you. You noticed that his eyes are red and there’s some streaks of tears on his face. “Are you okay bubs? What’s wrong?” You whispered, having your hand on his cheeks soothing his heated face.

“I just miss you. We can’t play anymore.” He sniffled rubbing his achy eyes with his hand.

“Honey, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. Never. We can always play. We can play some more when we get back to our hotel.” You said still soothing his face.

“Promise?” Harry whispered.

“I promise.”

[likeyourfatherinhell]

have the oddest sense of attachment to Sevastopol Station. it’s this irreparable husk of empty promises and broken dreams. it orbits a distant gas giant like a cheap imitation of the earth orbiting the sun, this yawning maze of metallic halls and disused facilities, industrial, impersonal, humming and whirring and cold. its only inhabitants are scattered handfuls of betrayed, exhausted people long since abandoned by whatever convinced them to come here, ultimately stranded in deep space. 

long before the alien infestation, Sevastopol is a dysfunctional hive of misery. its sparse population just keeps thinning - every person left behind as more of their colleagues jump ship is spread even thinner in their absence than they were before. there’s barely enough personnel left to keep up with minimum station maintenance. this ghoulish behemoth thing worth billions of dollars is kept hanging in the sky by a skeleton of a skeleton crew. tired, lonely people overworked and cornered on a floating ghost town rife with poverty, crime, and corruption, left with no real structure to rely on and no chance of things improving. 

the Josiah Sigg Apartments, where we’re to assume the Sevastopol residents all live (save for the few rich executives who pass thru on business once in a blue moon)? some of those units have 16 bunks to a room. no privacy. no real home to live in. even accounting for how small the station population is, most of them probably can’t afford the luxury of living quarters with fewer beds crammed into them. there’s plenty of empty apartments, no real reason for these people to be piled in so close together, save for the greed of those who collect their rent. no room to breathe, no sun, no trees, no life. 

it’s miles on miles of identical fucking hallways and rooms that all look exactly the same. it’s white on white on grey on white on hydraulics hissing as the doors open to an exact mirror image of everything on the other side. it’s telling a busted-up glorified excuse for an animatronic about your day just to kid yourself into feeling like you have someone to talk to. it’s inescapably inhuman. it’s crunchy voice boxes and exposed live wires, it’s canned corporate announcements and dingy gunmetal grey and artificial lights and rubber fingers gripping everybody trapped on it like a vice. it’s hostile. it’s a chokehold. that’s Sevastopol Station.

but this breeding ground for cabin fever means so much to me. in the strangest way, it feels like home. in my head, this bleak dead zone is where i go to when i need comforting. this is where i go when i close my eyes for a moment and i need to de-stress. standing by one of the windows, looking out at KG-348 for a moment while on my way to clock in for the day. sitting by a workbench while someone i don’t know all that well complains about their shift, just letting them vent. holed up in the corner of some storage room off to the side, eating lunch and enjoying the peace and quiet. sometimes the faulty lighting looks pretty. what does it matter what the food tastes like if it’s cheap and it’s filling? it’ll get me through the day. there’s too much to do and not enough time to do it. not enough people to help.

the few people we have are hurting. they’re scared, they’re angry, and they don’t know what to do. nobody wanted this. Sevastopol was gonna be some huge trade center, booming and bustling and thriving with room for growth out in all directions, everyone was told. there’s nothing to do now but leave, or choke on the choices you made that lead you here and try to make it work. try to make it worth something. try and be of some use to each other, maybe try and make it hurt a little less. if you can. just hold on for dear life and wait and see if things get better, or if they finally decide to put the place out of its misery. and i think about it, and i feel safer. i don’t know why.

it’s something about working retail thru the pandemic that made this fictional ailing space station dig so far down into my rib cage. the hopelessness, the broken promises by leadership, the constant hemorrhaging staff, the flimsy camaraderie you share with the other people who work with you who don’t want to be there and know that you don’t want to be there, and you don’t really know each other and don’t want to but you all know every single one of you is not okay. we keep working longer hours and going longer stretches without days off and the managers keep promising they’ll hire more people and that things will get better right around the next bend, and another one quits and another one gets transferred and the next one promises more of the same. i walk in every few months and realize i don't know anyone anymore, again. the last wave of new people are gone just when i learn all their names. the next wave is always smaller than the last and somehow they never stay as long. the people that own the company are making so much money but somehow the place feels like it's dying, and it's taking us with it.

overworked and trapped and tired and sick and scared of getting sicker. walking to work over crumbling bridges and broken sidewalks littered with medical masks, and walking home past all the empty buildings of places that went out-of-business. the public works department doesnt have the money to make bridge repairs so they just block them off and leave the gaping holes. nobody has the funds or faith in the economy to try opening new businesses in the dozens of empty buildings. the town is poor and empty and getting poorer and emptier, and the people left behind make their lives smaller and smaller to make more room for work. endless hours on days on weeks on months on years of doing shit that doesn't matter for people that don't care, and watching nothing get better.

crawling thru a ventilation shaft to get home because there's not enough maintenance staff to finish repairs on a gas pipeline so the flooring in a huge section of the hall is just gone. walking past a food court's worth of empty, shuttered restaurants to get a packet of reheated mush from a vending machine. two people in your department managed to nab new assignments off-station, so now you're doing the work of six people with no change in pay. no one goes to the doctor because the medical staff can be counted on one hand. no new businesses open, but every other week another one closes. the stress is spread less and less evenly as the station gets quieter and quieter. no one trusts the Marshals. no one feels safe.

and this game was made years before anyone could’ve known this would happen but the parallels are still there. theres something cathartic in Sevastopol. i feel like a piece of my heart is in it, or maybe a piece of it is in me. i just kind of hold it, and i’m glad that it’s there.

[tripleaxelrose]

One-Shot #4: Japan

Original Prompt: I got a few about them flirting at The Ice, and it sort of turned into... this. Note that the end is kinda dirty. In the name of full disclosure.

She cannot outrun the jetlag, so she stops trying.

They skate at night, the shows smallish, in municipal gyms, in front of crowds that are furtive, fervent, masked, clapping in unnerving precision, always on the beat. Then they change their clothes. Then dinner, usually somewhere near the arena so they can walk, nothing fancy. Sushi. Sometimes they go with the rest of the cast, nosing through the cases at all-night 7-Elevens for onigiri (her favorite) and instant noodles (his, which he makes with hot water from the hotel coffee machine). 

Then they have sex. Then they sleep. 

Well, she doesn’t. He can sleep anywhere, in cars, sitting up, at any hour of the day, for stretches so long that she occasionally will watch him, heart pounding, just to make sure he is still breathing. She requires silence, blackout curtains, a bone-dry room, the air conditioning on the lowest setting, eye mask, earplugs.  

The tours book two hotel rooms for them as a courtesy but they’ve only used one for months. She stares at the ceiling in the dark, ponders sliding out of bed and into this other, mysterious room. The one that is allegedly hers. Locking it up like a tomb, spreading herself across the king-size mattress like a starfish. But she did not exactly pay attention at check-in, is not sure she was given a key to this other room. She leaves those details to him. And he is asleep, of course, having rolled off her and closed his eyes for longer than four seconds.

She pulls out her phone. It’s morning in California. Her friends posting their TGIF selfies, everyone leaving for the weekend. She’s exhausted, wired. She wants… sunlight. Breakfast.

She feels the mattress shift next to her. His knuckles brush her shoulder.

“You awake?”

“Yup.” 

“Did you fall asleep at all?”

“Nope.”

“You anywhere close to being tired?” 

“Nope.”

“Looking at your phone doesn’t help, you know.” 

“Really? I had no idea, considering that you’ve only mentioned it four thousand times.” 

She can hear him thinking, arranging the pieces of his next move in his head. It annoys her. 

“OK, let’s go.” 

He snaps on the lamp on his side of the bed, kicks the covers off both of them. She gives a yelp at the loss of warmth, watches as he rummages on the floor beside the bed for his boxers. 

“Come on,” he says, waving her out of bed. “We’re going out.” 

“We are?”

“There’s no point in lying awake in here. Plus, being on opposite schedules sucks. Get dressed.” 

He yanks a t-shirt over his head, picks up a balled up pair of leggings from a chair and tosses them at her. 

*

They’re in a taxi twenty minutes later, both of them hastily dressed, him determined, hair somewhat askew, searching for things on his phone. She gazes out the window at the blur of city lights. 

“What if we get all the way out here and then I suddenly need to go to sleep?” 

“Well then, mission accomplished,” he says without looking up, the light of his phone screen revealing a wry smile. 

The driver leaves them under a stack of looping highway overpasses, but she can hear it as soon as she steps out of the car, and see it. Light. Voices. The air is warm. 

He starts to walk toward it. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“More or less the only place there is to go at this hour.” 

He takes her hand. 

*

By the time they make it to the canal, the streets are jammed with people. Teenagers in packs. Selfie-stick-toting tourists crowding the stone bridges. Uniformed nurses offering Covid tests. Hawkers selling glow sticks and light-up bracelets. 

The skyscrapers rise up on either side of the canal like the walls of a neon-clad canyon, the signs flickering so bright that the nighttime sky is a starless, hazy gray. 

By the time they have walked the mile from one end of the canal to the other, the light on their faces, she is slightly breathless, giddy with triumph at having acquired a pink feather boa and a foil pinwheel on a stick that she has stuck through the loop in her ponytail. She yanks him into the stalls by the arm, says that they simply have to stop, pries open her wallet to fish for yen, all of the coins mixed in with American quarters and nickels. 

She declares to him that she is famished, that she may never sleep again. He smiles, reaches back to spin the pinwheel behind her head, tells her that he definitely believes her. 

They follow the crowds away from the canal like they are floating down a stream, end up on a crowded street with just as many signs, just as bright but lower to the ground, some of them sculpted into enormous shapes. A giant crab with animated legs. A dragon curling around a turret advertising ramen. They stop, of course they stop, exchange yen for paper tickets, eat standing at the counter, hunched over their steaming bowls, watching the crowds pass. Two stalls down, they cannot resist the sign – an enormous 3-D octopus, its legs dangling over the sidewalk – or the takoyaki steaming on the grill below it. 

She holds the box, one golf-ball sized bite in each of eight slots, and fusses with chopsticks while he just reaches over and picks them out with his fingers. They eat while they walk, burn their mouths, get grease on everything. 

They turn into a covered arcade, flooded with light, noise, chatter, the beeps and bells of arcade games. 

She gasps. Freezes in her tracks. Then, a little clap of her hands. She looks at him, and he knows before she even says it.

“I’m going to play pachinko.” 

“OK,” he says.

“You look nervous.” 

“You look like you’re about to gamble away your entire life.” 

“Silly, I’m not going to do that. And you’ll stop me at some point, right?” She grabs his hand and pulls him into one of the parlors under the arcade. 

“Do you even know how to play?” He’s talking to her back now, watching the pinwheel bounce, as she makes her way down the row of clacking machines, inspects each one. There are players seated at some of them, silent, focused. 

“No, but you probably do,” she says, spinning around to face him as she reaches the end of the row. 

“Do you think I know because I’m Asian?” He cocks an eyebrow, gives her a sly look. Hovers in close and lands a soft kiss, too quick, on her lips. 

“I think you know how to play pachinko because you know everything,” she says sweetly, tilts her head to one side, loops an arm around his waist. The patrons nearest to them look up, shoot disapproving looks. “You do know how to play, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” 

“See?”

“Pick a machine,” he says, releasing her and pointing her toward the row of games behind her.

“Can you show me how to get all the little balls?” 

“Only if you say that fifty more times,” he says, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

*

She loses the equivalent of ten dollars in two minutes, the silver balls clicking over the pins and disappearing into the gutter at the bottom of the game console as computerized music plays, as the ring of flashing candy-colored lights around the machine’s edge reflect in her tired eyes.

Then, suddenly, she hits a jackpot. A scream from her, more clapping of hands. The machine blares all at once, the lights flashing all in unison. 

“How much did I win?” 

He watches the numbers flash, sitting in the seat next to her. “I think about four dollars.” 

She grips his arm. “OK, let’s cash out right now. I will never be able to repeat this lucky streak.” 

“You’re technically still down by six bucks, but…” 

 “Now. We have to go now.” 

She cashes in her balls – she tries hard to say it fifty times – for a rhinestone-encrusted tiara that she adds to her ensemble. They are almost, almost, back on the street, back to him drawing out his phone and calling them a car to take them back to the hotel, when he grabs her hand. 

“Hold on.” 

He pivots her out of the pachinko parlor and across the covered arcade to another room. She’s winding down, dragging her feet a bit, the nervous energy going out of her. 

Here, they face a long row of claw machines, lit from the inside and sheltering pile after pile of pastel-hued stuffed animals. There are only a few people here, kids mostly, gesticulating and shouting as the claws dip down and come back up empty, only to open their jaws and drop nothing into the prize chute. 

She has never seen so many of these claw machines in one place, wonders if she is so tired that she’s hallucinating. She thinks back to the bowling alley in her hometown, the one sad claw machine by the shoe exchange desk where no one ever won anything and where the prizes – keychains and other cheap plastic trinkets – were imprisoned in little clear plastic eggs that collected dust. This was a whole other story. Her eyes scan the prizes and she can feel herself getting giddy again as she sizes them up – unicorns, baby chicks, Pokemon, Hello Kitty. All of them as long as her forearm. 

“Pick one,” he says. His face is serious but she knows he’s kidding, trying it out on her. His cocky-boyfriend-winning-stuff-at-carnivals face.

“You know these things are a scam,” she says, adjusting the tiara with one hand. 

“Of course,” he says. “But I have a technique.” 

“Shocking,” she sighs, continuing down the row of machines.

She stops when she sees it, and she knows, pressing her hands against the glass. He laughs when he realizes what’s in the machine. He probably could have chosen it for her – he knows her that well at this point. 

Teddy bears. Wearing teddy-bear-sized knit sweaters. The sweaters have pink hearts on them. “Japan made these bears just for you,” he says. “I’m surprised the sweaters don’t have your name stitched on them.” 

“That would be so cute!” she says, giving an excited little hop that sends the pinwheel in her hair spinning in a slow circle.

She insists on trying the machine first, though. Another rummage through her wallet for change, another minute of picking out and then tossing back all the wrong currency before she finds the right one. 

He stands behind her as the machine splutters to life, and she can feel his proximity, wants to lean backward, just a few inches, rest her head against his chest. But being here makes her feel cautious and unmoored and she doesn’t do it. She had maybe hoped it would be easier here, away from home, in a place where they were less likely to be noticed, more likely to be seen as just another foreign couple. She maybe thought it would be romantic, to be anonymous, darting around town with him. She wants to disappear with him, to exist outside the time and space of their lives. But they have been surrounded by their cast mates and the shows feel like work and she has not been sleeping. Touching him in public feels strange here, too, and though no one has said a thing to them, it makes her feel like she’s doing something wrong. 

Watching the crane arm move forward, hover over the bears, she realizes that she is tired of being so cautious. Rehearsing the rules with him. No obvious social media stuff. Be careful around cameras. Say no to fans who ask for photos – this one especially pains her. And no PDAs. 

But then what’s the point? She wants to ask him this but isn’t sure she wants the answer. Lives in fear of him shrugging his shoulders and asking her the same question back. 

She hits another button and the spidery arms of the crane separate, creating a gasping space that’s roughly the size of her head. The crane plunges down and she is sure, she is so sure, for an instant, that she has it. The bear is hers. And then the arm pulls up and it is empty. Her shoulders fall. She can do nothing but stare. She wonders if she is about to collapse.    

“Here,” he says. 

He has yen ready. He took all of the American change out of his wallet before they even left for the airport. Of course he did. She knows he is the rational one in their relationship, the one who is planning against concrete timelines, focusing on what is realistic. And she is… she is tired. 

He puts more money in the machine and edges closer to her, placing his hands over hers on the buttons. 

“Ready?”

She nods and one of the pinwheel’s points scrapes against his cheek. He repositions with one hand so that it’s out of his way, presses his chin against her temple. He presses a button and the crane arm moves again.  

She feels him breathing, feels him settle into that place that he goes to sometimes where he is there and not there. After all the years of competitions, he goes there so easily, like flipping a switch. It is muscle memory, like everything else. A thing that they all learn, train themselves into, but he is so good at it. Not just getting into this place but staying there. 

Her attempts through the years are hit or miss. She will get there, feel like everything around her is vibrating, barely notice the ice under her blades, she feels weightless, the jumps easy, inevitable. And then something will distract her and she tumbles out of it – a face in the stands that reminds her of someone, she forgot to turn off the TV before she left home, a thread of a thought about him that she cannot find the beginning or the end of but that leaves her with a lurch of panic.

He tells her that this happens to him too, but feeling him behind her, she does not quite believe it. This is how he wins, she thinks. By disappearing. 

He hits the second button, his hand still over hers so technically they are both pushing it, and the fist of the crane opens again. 

His breathing gets even slower and she knows what his eyes look like, hovering over her shoulder, so focused on the crane arm that it’s almost like she can see them in front of her staring back. And maybe she can – his reflection is hazy in the glass.  

She feels the worry rise. He does this during sex sometimes. Evaporates on her, goes someplace else. After a few times, she finally gets up the courage to stop him, touch his cheek, ask him where he’s gone off to. And he blinks at her, inches from her face, like he has never seen her before and then all at once he’s back and he’s himself, frowning at her – mock-frowning at her – gathering her up into his arms like nothing has happened and it’s fine. And it is fine. Isn’t it? 

The crane disappears into a pile of teddy bears. Their breathing stops in unison, his lulled by concentration and hers stilted by fear. 

Nothing. The crane will pull up nothing, the jaws closing fast. And then, at the last second, one of the crane’s prongs catches on something. The hem of a bear’s sweater. And it dangles there for an instant. She watches as two sets of eyes go wide in the glass. She thinks it will fall. The crane moves. And then it doesn’t. 

They both start shouting. She leaps into his arms, nearly toppling both of them. The tiara goes flying, lands somewhere under the row of machines. Neither of them will think about it until they are home, until she is recounting the story to their friends over dinner, until she gets to the part about the pachinko.

And he will remember, all at once, squint at her like she is someone he knows and does not know, and he will say, “Wait. You had a tiara, didn’t you?” 

*

Back on the street, holding his hand, the teddy bear tucked under her arm, she tries to discern if the sky is changing because the lights around them are getting brighter, or because the sun is rising. 

The streets grow quiet. 

Her feet stop in front of the hotel. She looks up at the sign, looks back at him.

“Oh god,” he groans.

“It could be fun.” 

“Do you even know what this place is?”

“Of course I know,” she says, rolling her eyes and tossing him what she hopes is one of her worldliest smiles. It does not have the intended effect and he laughs. 

“It’s going to be gross and weird in there,” he says. “And our hotel is seriously a ten-minute Uber away.” 

“How do you know it’ll be gross and weird? Have you stayed in one before?”

“Oh jeez… of course not. Stop looking at me like that.”

She is not entirely sure how she’s looking at him, but, as the color rises to his cheeks, she hopes she can keep doing it. She is not sure she can stay standing much longer. She does not let go of his hand, tugs him toward the door. 

*

They are checked in ten minutes later. He pays, uses his four words of Japanese then gives up and lapses into English when it’s clear that the woman at the desk speaks it. He blushes all the way to the tips of his ears the entire time, eyes darting nervously around the lobby, scanning the cheap chandeliers. 

She stands back and watches, casually twirls the pinwheel with one finger, tries desperately not to dissolve into peals of laughter. 

This part of the story, they will never tell their friends over wine. 

He slaps the key card against the room door, not looking at her, and when the lock clicks, he pushes through into the darkness. She follows him. 

When she reaches for the light switch next to the door, his hand instantly covers hers. She is surprised by how close he is, how quickly he’s moved. She can feel his breath on her lips. 

“Don’t do it.” 

“Why?” she laughs. 

“You don’t want to see what this room looks like, trust me,” he says, and she can hear the smile in his voice more than she can see it. But she detects something else too, a familiar edge. 

When his hand moves to her waist, she snaps the light on. The room is purple. 

“Oh wow, OK,” she breathes, looking at the room over his shoulder. 

“I told you.” 

 There are ruffles. A baby version of the chandelier in the lobby. A coffee table with a vase, a single red carnation. Tracks of neon tube lighting along the ceiling. A water cooler next to the bed. 

“At least it’s not Hello Kitty-themed.” 

“How dare you,” she gasps in mock horror. 

Then, without another word, she untangles herself from his grasp. Drops the teddy bear on a chair. Makes her way over to the bed and perches herself on the edge. Leans back on her arms. Crosses her ankles. 

She has a plan about how she will look at him, a certain tilt of her head, downward a bit, how she will very slowly draw the pinwheel out of her hair and gently blow against one of its points, sending it spinning. She imagines his face, his eyes as his jaw tightens. None of it happens. It doesn’t have a chance to. His mouth is on hers before she has a chance to do any of it.

It’s hard to kiss someone when you’re both laughing. 

“Shh, stop.”

“No, you stop.”

They giggle into each other’s skin. They stop, eventually. Compose themselves. Slow down. One of his hands has made its way under the waistband of her leggings, she is twisting against his fingers, when she stops him. 

“I hate this bed,” she says, breathing hard. “It’s freaking me out.”

He looks around the room, thinking. Holds out his hand to her. She takes it. He stands her up. 

“Back up,” he says. 

Gently, his hands on her waist, he presses her back until she’s standing against the wall opposite the bed. 

“What are we doing?” she breathes as he bends to kiss her neck. 

He doesn’t answer, but she sees it, the hard glimmer in his eyes. He looks nowhere but at her. 

When her knees buckle under the weight of his kisses, the weight of her own tired body, he presses his hips against hers, grasps one of her knees and draws it up behind him, over his hip. An instant later, she is fully off the ground, braced between the hard press of his body and the wall, her legs wrapped around him. They don’t even bother taking all of their clothes off. 

Before he enters her, he places a kiss at the corner of her mouth, leans his forehead against hers. 

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” 

She cannot form the words to answer, shifts her hips against him in response. 

When she gasps, shudders against him, moans against his lips, he follows an instant later, drawing one hand back from the wall to touch her chin, draw her face forward to look at him. Their breathing slows. Her feet touch the floor. 

“I love y…”

“I love you.”

Their voices collide midair, and she feels something break open inside her. She wraps her arms around him, collapses against his shoulder. 

Later, they will pull their clothes all the way back on, still half-whispering when they don’t need to. They will decide against the bed, even though she is so tired she could sleep anywhere. Could sleep standing up. Her legs wobble and he catches her elbow, steadying her. 

It is light when they get in the car. Lighter when it pulls up to their hotel. 

Back in the room, their shared room, he coils himself against her back, brushing her hair off her forehead. He has turned up the AC as high as it will go, has closed all the curtains to block slivers of light. And she sleeps.

[logically-asexual]

Where's my fucking teenage dream?

summary:

Last part of this series, two years after the events of the previous part. Logan just finished high school while Janus, Remus and Virgil have been renting a house together since they graduated. Logan decides to move in with them, but adjusting isn't so easy. Logan is ace but does feel romantic attraction (for Virgil). He doesn't know he's ace, though, so the story involves some self-questioning.

Read on AO3

Chapter 2

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words: 1279

They were all sitting in the living room now. Logan still had the towel over his shoulders, but he was no longer shaking, he had a cup of tea in his hands. 

There wasn’t a lot of furniture, but they did have a big TV with many wires coming out of it spread across the floor. There was also a drum set in the corner, behind a crime scene yellow tape reading “Do Not Cross.”

“I’m sorry” he repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“What’s going on with you?” Virgil asked. 

“It’s nothing.” Logan shook his head. “I’m sure you all have had bigger problems, I just haven’t learned a thing and still can’t take care of myself. But I have to do it sooner or later so don’t worry about me.” 

Everyone who had met Virgil before knew that way of speaking very well. He moved to sit next to Logan. “Hey, L, it’s alright—“

“No,” Logan stood up. “I’ve intruded long enough, I’m sorry I—,” he was interrupted by Virgil grabbing his arm. 

“Logan. It’s three am and there’s a fucking storm outside. I didn’t think you were stupid but if you walk out that door I will be proven wrong.” 

Logan couldn’t hold eye contact with the intense look Virgil was giving him. The seriousness of his tone was enough to stun Logan back into sitting down. 

Virgil stood up and began walking away. “Listen if you don’t want to tell us what happened that’s fine, just shut up then and get some sleep, I don’t care. I’m too tired for this.”

Before he could leave the room, Logan spoke up. “They kicked me out.” 

That was enough to catch everyone’s attention. 

“Your parents?” Janus asked. 

“Their perfect little golden child out in the streets?” Remus followed. 

“Yes. No.” Logan tried to get his thoughts in order. “They didn’t. They were about to kick me out, I know it. But I, uh, I ran away first.” 

Virgil sat back where he was before, on the chair to Logan’s right. Remus and Janus were sitting on a couch on his left, looking attentively. They almost looked like his parents when they confronted him about a bad grade, except for all the piercings and now even tattoos on their skin. 

“What did you do?” Now Remus sounded almost excited to hear the story. 

Logan hesitated. “Nothing terrible, I think… I just disappointed them.”

They were all waiting for him to elaborate, so he continued. 

“Last year they agreed that a double major in Data Science and Economics was the best course of action for me to have a successful career. It made sense, I am good at math and every business needs data analysis to survive nowadays, they’d pay me more than enough to be comfortable. I wouldn’t even have to move out because the university was just over half an hour away if my father drove me there before work. 

“It was all solved. I thought everything was fine, but something in me decided to fuck everything up at the Career Orientation Fair they had at the school.” 

Logan didn’t miss how more than one of his friends flinched at the curse word he couldn’t help but utter. It felt foreign in his mouth even to himself. 

“There was this flier for Earth and Planetary Sciences at MIT. I didn’t know that was an entire field of study. Apparently they have researchers that study the ocean or the ground or the atmosphere here or on other planets. I looked more into the topic later and found that you don’t even have to choose in undergrad sometimes. You can study geology and climate and biochemistry and the environment and there’s this thing called paleomagnetism where you study the history of the Earth through the traces in sediments of changes in the magnetic field of the planet!” 

He noticed the looks of confusion in the others’ faces and flushed, stopping his accidental rambling. 

“So, um… It looked interesting.” He coughed. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I skipped class one day to go to the public library to find out how to get a scholarship and I found there was one here in this city.

“I… I wasn’t planning on actually doing anything. They accepted me but I was just going to write a letter at some point explaining that I would study somewhere else. I began taking classes for the career my parents wanted until last night. It had only been two weeks of classes but they were already dissatisfied with my results.”

“Fuck them.” Remus commented. 

“I don’t remember how the argument began. I am grateful for all they have done for me,” Logan’s voice cracked, “but they didn’t see that. They weren’t hearing a single word I was speaking. There is a deadline approaching to confirm my enrollment to the other school and to turn in some personal documents, but my parents had all of them in an archive they stored for safety, because they don’t trust me to take care of my belongings.” 

Tears were rolling down Logan’s eyes again. 

“I sneaked into my mother’s study when they left to cool down from all the yelling and took everything that was important. I put it in a suitcase with as many clothes and personal items as I could fit, took a bus and… Now I’m here.” 

He sniffled and wiped away the tears with the towel, waiting for a response from the older guys in front of him. 

“And…” Janus raised an eyebrow, “I’m assuming your scholarship doesn’t include a residence.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Virgil hissed. 

Janus simply shrugged and stood up, getting a box of tissues from the bathroom and handing them to Logan. He knew it would be cold of him to point it out, but if Logan wasn’t going to pay his share of the rent, well… What were they supposed to do? 

“I should cancel everything while I still can.” Logan struggled to blow his nose with his hands shaking. “The scholarships require you to be a full time student which won’t let me get a job that’s useful and pays enough to get somewhere to live.” 

“Woah, hold on, you over-educated chihuahua.” Janus sat back down, resting a foot on the coffee table. “I didn’t say that.” 

Everyone looked up at him curiously. 

“If anyone knows what being useless to society or our families is like, it’s the outcasts under this roof.”

Logan held his breath at Janus’ piercing stare, before the blond leaned back with a smug expression. 

“I’m sure we can come up with some arrangement we all benefit from.”

Remus and Janus looked at each other with mischievous smiles, while Virgil sighed, elbows on his knees and his forehead in his hands. 

“So I can stay?”

“We’ll discuss it in the morning.” Janus said with a smug smile. 

Logan visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping forward. 

After a pause, Janus stood up. “Well, if you don’t mind, it’s late, and some of us have academic and laboral responsibilities tomorrow. Have a goodnight.” 

With that, he left to his room, and the other two followed behind, looking as exhausted as Logan felt. 

“You should rest,” Virgil whispered, before leaving Logan all alone. 

He sat in silence for a minute, listening to the rain outside. He noticed the unopened six pack on the coffee table and mourned the fact that they were going to celebrate after the gig and he ruined it. He didn’t have the energy to feel worse than he already did, though. Soon, he couldn’t hold himself up anymore and drifted to sleep.

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[ichor-and-symbiosis]

Obedient. (Shigaraki x f!Reader; NSFW)

Commission for @kazooli​.

Shigaraki knows you are upset. Not that he needs to use his intuitive perceptiveness to notice your downtrodden mood -- you are, and always will be, an open book of emotions. 

You try to be on your best behavior. You always try. Nobody needs to see their teammate moping around the decrepit hideout when everyone has their own problems to deal with. It could always be worse, you tell yourself. And you need to stay strong for your leader. 

But he knows. Finds you pouting on the ripped up sofa, even though you are the one who should come to him when called. You look up at him with your doe-eyed, downtrodden expression, and Shigaraki’s expressionless eyes sweep over you before walking past. Your gaze lingers on his broad back, wishing you could reach out and grasp the fabric of his coat just to keep him around a little longer. 

He pauses in front of the door. “Come with me,” he commands, and you are on your feet before you even think to ask why or where you are going.

-

The exhilaration of walking by your leader’s side through winding streets is enough to keep your mouth shut. Better to be quiet for now, anyway. Better to move like a shadow, like Shigaraki’s shadow. It must be a mission. You keep your eyes and ears sharp and primed, ready to take on the next challenge. 

Until Dabi’s words ring through your mind and you feel yourself deflating all over again.

Shigaraki pays no attention to you. He leads and leads, guides you towards a destination only he knows, and you are grateful for the chance to simply follow. You try not to question him when he stops at a food stall. Two orders of takoyaki, spoken with a quiet, serious request. Your stomach grumbles and you grip it in embarrassment. When was the last time you ate?

The worker holds out your meal. Shigaraki looks at you expectantly, and you realize he wants you to take it. And you do, rushed and mousy as you thank the worker, and then you spend the next minute mentally berating yourself for saying thank you at all. You are a villain. Why would you thank a random nobody? You should be thanking your leader instead. And you do.

He offers a grunt and keeps walking. Your heart flutters at the sound. 

You end your journey on a rooftop. The building is not familiar to you, and you doubt Shigaraki knows it either. A random building with a roof that smells like asphalt and cigarettes. You take a deep breath as the wind wafts the takoyaki steam toward you, and your stomach growls demandingly. 

You wedge yourselves into a narrow space, hidden from surveillance or anyone who may come onto the roof. Your only view is that of Shigaraki sitting across from you and you are perfectly okay with that. Very okay with that, in fact, especially since his legs are forced to bend and rest on either side of you. Your only choice is to sit cross-legged for his comfort, and you try your very best to avoid staring at his crotch.

It’s right there in front of you. He just brazenly has his legs spread out and brushing along your knees and you shove the takoyaki into your drooling mouth to keep yourself occupied. All you would need to do is bend forward, and it wouldn’t be the takoyaki in your mouth anymore. It would be something else entirely, something musky and warm and solid, and you squirm in your spot as heat pools below your belly. 

Shigaraki silently eats the first stick of takoyaki and sets the box aside. You pause your eating and wait, because he has that pensive look in his eyes right now. His arms are limp and resting on his knees, and you allow yourself to admire his beautiful hands. Beautiful to you, long and slender fingers, blue veins peeking through pale skin, oh how desperately you want him to touch you - 

“So.” The word hangs in the air between you. You stare at him, obediently waiting for him to continue. He doesn’t look at you. “What happened.” 

“U-um … “ You wrack your brain as your anxiety builds. Did you do something wrong? Were his plans compromised? “I’m sorry, I don’t - “ 

“You’ve been looking like a kicked dog all day.” 

“Oh.” You muster up a weak smile. “It’s nothing serious. Maybe I was just hungry, or … you know. Present circumstances and all that.” 

“Don’t lie to me.” 

Perceptive. You don’t want to burden him. It really was such a silly disagreement with Dabi. “Really, it’s - “

He says your name. You look at him, transfixed by his solemn stare. His eyes are sharp, commanding. “Tell me.” 

And you do. Nothing at first, trapped in your throat, and then all at once.

“Dabi is just such an asshole,” you blurt out, and Shigaraki’s snort encourages you to word vomit. “He took me with him on a scouting mission and things didn’t go as planned and he kept blaming me! He said it was my fault and that - and that I’m … useless.” Your head hangs in shame as you stare hard into your lap. “He said I’m useless and that the League doesn’t need me. So I’ve been thinking all day about that. If I wasn’t useful to society and I’m not useful to the League, then ... “ You don’t know where your trail of thought was going. “I don’t want to feel useless,” you whisper. “I don’t want to hold anyone back. I don’t want to waste your time like - like right now.” 

Shigaraki waits for you to finish. He looks a little surprised. “That’s a lot.”

Your mouth gapes like a fish before you shut it tight and dig your nails into your thighs, hoping the pain would counteract your burning embarrassment threatening to swallow you whole. “Sorry. I talk a lot.” 

He eyes you with a calculated expression while you silently flounder in your awkwardness. “Come here,” he suddenly says, and your confusion makes him grow impatient. “Turn around. Back to my front.” He motions to the space between his legs. “Right here, puppy girl.” 

You nearly choke on your gasp.

Your body moves mechanically, too stunned by shock to make your body look anything other than enticing. You sit as he directed, back to his front, and wrap your arms around your knees as you try to calm your breathing. A gap remains between you, because there is no way Shigaraki would want you pressed up against him, except he does and you let out a startled squeak when he places his arms beneath your thighs, spreads your legs over his, and makes you lean back onto him. 

“What are you doing?” you breathe out, heart stammering in your chest as you soak up his body heat and pray to god that this moment will never end. 

“Testing out your obedience,” he off-handedly comments, and your clothed cunt immediately becomes flooded from the vibrations of his voice, the low rumble so close to your ear. His hands move to grip your forearms, and you jolt at the contact, all wired up with frayed nerves and anticipation. “I want to know what makes you think I’m wasting my time here.” 

“W-we’re talking about me.” 

“Yeah. And you know what I learned?” His mouth is close to your ear now. You shiver at the feeling of his breath tickling your skin. “I learned that you’re not at the top of your game right now. You’re drowning - “ He taps a finger to your temple. “ - from all of these fuzzy little thoughts in your head. And I can’t have an obedient puppy girl if she’s thinking too much.” 

“I - “ 

“Quiet.” One hand cups your throat, middle finger poised over your pulse. The hold is firm and encompassing around your neck. It makes you tremble with desire. “We have to get rid of those thoughts, don’t we?” His other hand brazenly cups your mound, and you let out the most pathetic sound of your life. “There’s a lot of ways to release pent up feelings,” he continues conversationally, fingers delving past the waistband of your bottoms. “I’m feeling charitable enough to help you out.” 

Your endless stream of thoughts fizzle out as soon as he finds your swollen clit. “Thank you,” you sob, gripping his arm and gyrating your hips for more of his touch. “Thank you, thank you, thank you - “ 

The hand at your throat moves up to cover your mouth. “Shhh.” Fingertip moves lower, runs itself through the slickness oozing out of your tight heat. “Relax.” You whimper brokenly, slump back against him as he rubs your clit in feather-light strokes. His hand moves from your mouth and rests on your temple, fingers buried in your hair. “This is what you’re good for.”

Shigaraki is not an expert by any means. Sometimes he loses his momentum, rubs too hard or too slowly, doesn’t really know how to set a proper pace. But you have never felt more wet before. Never has your heart raced this quickly, never has a simple touch driven you to mindless pleasure. 

He plunges inside you unexpectedly, shushing you once more as you let out a wordless cry, and even through the pain of being stretched far too soon, you feel your pussy loosen to accommodate your beloved leader’s thick fingers. He works you open good and proper, thorough in his thrusting, forcing you to take him down to the last knuckle. You lie there and take it, moaning and writhing in his lap as he fucks your sloppy cunt. 

“Just let it all out,” he murmurs in your ear. “It’s not good to keep the bad shit locked away inside. Or else one day … “ His fingers ease out of your pussy and leave a trail of juices clinging to his fingertips. You try your best not to whine as he brings his fingers up for inspection. “ … It’s all gonna come pouring out.” 

You don’t know what he is trying to do. You don’t know what he wants from you when his fingers tap against your bottom lip, but your mouth falls open all the same to let him smear your juices onto your tongue. A pathetic, desperate whimper escapes as you taste yourself on his fingers. And you taste him. Your leader’s fingers are buried in your warm mouth and your stretched cunt contracts from dizzy exhilaration. 

Your tongue licks away the evidence of your arousal, and for one delirious moment you think you hear Shigaraki hum in approval. He pops the digits out of your mouth and you begin to ramble before you can stop yourself. “Y-you don’t … have to do this,” you shyly stutter, cheeks burning from shame as his hand drops back between your trembling thighs. “I was being dumb, I’ll get over it, you d-don’t have to worry about me like this - “ 

You break off into a choked gasp as he traps your clit between two fingers and slowly runs them up and down. 

“It’s fine,” he murmurs, lets your head fall back onto his shoulder. “A leader takes care of his subordinates.” 

A burst of emotions burns your chest at the statement. How could something sound so detached yet intimate? You wonder what this means to him. You wonder if he’s done this for anyone else. The very thought of it makes tears well up behind your closed eyelids, but you do not let them fall. This is your special moment with your leader. Here and now, he chose to take care of you. You focus on those words instead, focus on how full they make you feel, just as his fingertip rubs your soaked entrance and slips back inside with ease. 

“Just trust me,” he murmurs. “I’m gonna train this greedy puppycunt to only think about me.”

Shigaraki keeps talking. He is so, so chatty, and it is hard to focus on his monologuing through the sound of your wet pussy being played with so thoroughly and invasively. You bury your face in his neck to stifle the whiny demands on the tip of your tongue, ignoring your monumental need for him to stop talking and just kiss you. It’s a selfish thought. Your leader is speaking to you. You should listen, you should let him take care of you, you have to trust him, you have to chase the high and let go, just as he always does on the battlefield. 

“You’re doing so well for me.” 

A heavy pit of pleasure builds deep within. 

“Always so obedient.” 

The thumb buried in your hair strokes slowly. 

“My favorite puppy.”

Your pussy clenches, fighting to suck him in and keep him inside. 

“Mine.” 

You come with a shrill keen, trembling and shaking through your orgasm as Shigaraki’s fingers pump in and out, squelching and sloshing your juices as loudly as he can. Your mind is adrift, completely gone. All you can do is lay limp in his arms and breathe heavily, letting him settle your underwear back over your messy cunt. 

There is silence for a moment. Only the sound of your breathing. His hand settles over the top of your head properly this time, ruffling your hair in a movement that might have been accidental if not for the fact that Shigaraki never makes mistakes. “I like you like this,” he says. “No thoughts or worries. Just a properly trained cunt and an obedient subordinate.” You smile a little at that. If only he knew how badly you wanted to be used by him. “I decide who’s useful to me, not Dabi. You’re around for a reason, got it?” 

Your heart aches with happiness. “Yes sir. I’m yours.” 

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 22

Request: Yes or No

The outro for Endgame was real nice especially with all the Avenger actors at the end.

~

"We could always go back to Wakanda. Get a nice farm." Bucky said, shrugging lightly. You smiled softly.

"You haven't even taken me out yet." You crossed your arms, looking at him. Bucky grinned, metal hand going to your waist.

"Alright.. We're should I take you? A nice restaurant?"

"Surprise me, Ocean Eyes." You answered, grin widening. Buckys' brows raised slightly at the nickname, humming softly.

"Would it be too soon to..?" Bucky trailed off, head tilting with a playful expression. You placed a hand on the back of his head, pulling him close and kissing him. Buckys' froze, skin flushing. You giggled, pulling back and seeing his red cheeks. Bucky cleared his throat, shaking his head.

"What? Surprised?" You tilted your head. Bucky leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours and pulling you close. You heard whistles and chuckles, turning your head to look at Sam and Steve. Steve gave you a smile and a nod. You glanced down at the flowers that had bloomed at your feet, a small giggle leaving you.

"Hands to yourself, Barnes!" Sam called, arms crossing as he and Steve approached you and Bucky. Steve gave him a smile.

"Don't do anything stupid till I get back."

"How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you." Bucky replied, smiling. He gave his best friend a hug, patting his shoulder.

"Keep an eye on him, will ya?" Steve shot you a wink. You chuckled, nodding.

"No worries. I'll keep them both out of trouble until you get back. I promise." You smiled softly. You glanced at Bucky, noticing the sad look in his eyes. You looked back at Steve as he climbed on the platform.

"Bucky, is he..?" You looked at Bucky with furrowed brows. Bucky stayed silent, nodding. Your lips parted, placing a hand on his arm.

"Oh." You made eye contact with Steve before he disappeared. Bruce looked over the controls when Steve didn't return.

"Where is he?" Sam asked, glancing at Bruce.

"I don't know. He blew right by his time stamp." Bruce told him. Bucky let out a soft sigh, giving you a forced smile.

"Come on." You turned around with him, noticing a man sitting on a bench. Bucky noticed him too, squinting slightly as Sam and Bruce bickered.

"Sam." Bucky called, getting his attention. Sam looked over, approaching you and Bucky. His gaze landed on the man. You walked forward with the two, stopping some feet away.

"Go ahead." Bucky said softly, looking at Sam. It seemed like he had already made his peace with it. You gently rested your head against his shoulder as Sam walked forward. Sam and Steve quietly chatted before Steve handed the shield over to him. A smile spread across your face. Sam looked back at Bucky and got a nod in return. Sam picked it up, sliding it on his arm.

"He deserves it." You said quietly, watching them with a soft gaze. You looked at your phone, licking your lips.

"I actually have to go. Wanda wants me to go with her somewhere." You told Bucky, leaning up and kissing his cheek.

"Let me know about that date." You patted his shoulder. Bucky smiled, nodding.

"Will do, tiger." You chuckled at the nickname, walking away. You headed towards the facility, seeing Wanda waiting in a car. You went into a job, approaching the car and getting in.

"Hey." You breathed out, reaching over and hugging her. Wanda returned it, sighing. The hug lasted for a while before Wanda pulled back, sniffling.

"Sorry, I'm.." She shook her head, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her cardigan.

"It's okay, Wanda. I cried like a baby for 5 years and sometimes I still cry." You told her with a small smile. Wanda let out a soft chuckle.

"When does it get better?" She asked quietly, looking at you with watery eyes. You hummed, putting on your seatbelt.

"I'll let you know when it does." You replied. Truth be told, you expected the emptiness to go away once everyone had returned but it lingered, always weighting down on your chest. Wanda put the car on drive and drove away from the facility. You listened to the soft song playing on the radio.

"So.. Where exactly are we going?" You asked, turning your head to look at her. Wanda bit her bottom lip, staring forward.

"To get Visions body." She glanced at you. Your brows furrowed, head tilting.

"I thought Tony had him retrieved from Wakanda." You said, straightening up. Wandas' jaw clenched, head shaking.

"No, well, I don't know. I want him to have a proper funeral. Like Stark did. Natasha deserves one too, even if the casket is empty." Wanda said. You nodded, staring at the road ahead. All Natasha had gotten were some tears and a bench thrown into the sky.

"Yeah, I agree." You mumbled, sighing.

"Wanda, I'm.. I'm sorry. I should've made sure that his body-"

"I don't blame you. You lost me, Sam, Bucky, and your family all at once. I wouldn't have been able to handle it like you." Wanda said, glancing at you with a small smile. You gently reached out, touching her cheek. Wanda let out a shakey sigh, leaning into your touch.

"The organization is called S.W.O.R.D. I don't know what they want with him but whatever it is.. They don't need him. He needs to be put to rest." Wanda said softly.

"I know, Wanda. We'll find a way to do it." You gave her a reassuring smile. Wanda returned it with a weak smile of her own. You looked down at the root bracelets, sighing softly.

"You don't have to put on an act for me." Wanda said softly. "I've known you long enough to know when you force smiles and try to be.. Happy. Sam notices it too."

"Maybe the fake happiness will morph into real happiness." You mumbled.

"What is grief, if not love persevering? Vis said that to me once while I.. While I was still dealing with Pietro passing." Wanda told you gently. You smiled softly.

"I miss him." You whispered, sighing. You noticed a building up ahead, straightening up. Wanda parked and got out of the war, the saddness replaced with determination. You followed her, entering the building. Your gaze flickered up to the videos of families being reunited after the blip.

"Wanda, slow down." You quickly sped up, matching her pace. Wanda approached the front desk.

"I need Visions body."

"I'm sorry, ma'am, I can't allow you to-"

"Please, I need his body." Wanda stared at the man in desperation. You placed a gentle hand on her back.

"I'm sorry-"

"When I came back.. He was gone. His body.. And I know he's here. He deserves a funeral, at the very least. I deserve it." You could feel Wanda tense under your hand. The man sighed before answering a call. Your gaze trailed upward, noticing a security camera. You gently drummed your fingers, getting Wandas' attention. She stared straight at the camera with a deathly glare.

"Alright.." The man put the phone down, looking at you and the redhead.

"Through the doors, down the hall, two lefts and a right." The man said. Wanda nodded, walking towards the doors.

"One minute, sir, you can't go in with her. Ma'am let me buzz you in-"

"He comes with me." Wanda called back, opening the doors with her powers. You gave the man a small shrug, following your friend. You ignored the glances from the workers, mumbling the directions under your breath. Wanda stopped infront of a door. You heard it beep, watching Wanda throw it open.

"Wanda Maximoff, (Y/N) Barton.. It's an honour to meet you." A man stood up, walking around the table.

"I'm Director Hayward." Hayward introduced himself. You were wiring, brows furrowing as you turned your head towards the glass. Hayward noticed, clearing his throat and walking towards a glass door. He opened it, letting you and Wanda through. Your gaze flickered to what was below. At first, you were confused at the mess of wires until it clicked. Your brows relaxed, a breath leaving you.

"Oh." You whispered, earning a confused look from Wanda. She took a closer look, realization slowly washing over her. A soft grunt left you, staring at Visions' head. The person you onced called a friend was laying below you, dismembered and being torn apart.

"Stop.. Stop.." Wanda whispered, hands pressing against the glass. She whipped around to look at Hayward.

"Why are you doing this to him?"

"We're dismantling a weapon."

"Visions not a weapon. He couldn't hurt a fly." You muttered, looking at Hayward with a glare.

"You can't do this to him!" Wanda said with teary eyes.

"We're in our legal and ethical obligation-"

"I just want to bury him." Wanda breathed out. "That's it."

"Are you sure?"

"Excuse me?" You and Wanda said simultaneously. Hayward cleared his throat.

"Not everyone has the power that could bring her soulmate back online." Hayward explained. "Forgive me.. Back to life." He corrected himself.

"I can't do that." Wanda stared at him. "It's not why I'm here."

"Okay, but I can't let you take 3 billion dollars worth of vibranium just to put it in the ground."

"Vision's not an 'it', asshole." You huffed, eyeing him.

"Sorry.. The best I can let you do is say goodbye to him here." Hayward said.

"He isn't yours, Wanda." Wanda stayed silent, jaw clenching. Her fingers touched the glass, staring down at Vision before making the glass explode. Hayward ducked, covering his face from the glass. Wanda lowered herself down into the room as guards entered. You turned your head to look at Hayward.

"You'd make Stark disappointed." You mumbled, looking back down. You used the air in the room to safely drop down into the room as Hayward called off his men. Wanda slowly approached Visions' body, looking him over. She hovered her hand over his head, a soft whimper leaving her.

"I can't feel you.." She whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek. She placed her hand on his head, sighing softly. She turned towards you, sniffling. You wrapped an arm around her, walking towards the exit.

"I couldn't.. He wasn't there." She choked out, sobbing softly. You rubbed her arm, gently taking the car keys from her. Wanda sniffled as you walked towards the car. She went around towards the passenger seat, getting in. She stared up at the car roof, brows furrowing when she noticed a paper sticking. She pulled down the sun blocker, opening up the paper.

"What is it?" You asked softly, turning the car on and reversing out of the parking spot.

"A plan.. Vision wanted us to move and start over." Wanda said softly. You frowned, gaze softening.

"You can stop by the facility. I have somewhere else to go." Wanda said, glancing at you.

"Are you sure you want to be alone, Wanda?" You asked gently. Wanda nodded, letting out a dry chuckle.

"Wouldn't be anything new." You sighed softly. The drive back was silent but you didn't mind. Wanda needed space and time to deal with everything. You parked the car and got out, looking at her.

"I'll be in touch. We don't have to talk just.. Let me know you're okay and I'll leave it." You told her. Wanda nodded, arms gently wrapping around you. You hugged her back, sighing softly.

"Stay safe." You whispered.

"You too." Wanda pulled back, giving you a small smile before getting in the car. You watched her drive away, sighing softly.

"You alright?" You turned your head, seeing Sam. You smiled softly, nodding.

"Why wouldn't I be?" You stared at Sam. His features soften, brows raising in question. You could feel your eyes begin to water.

"He didn't look like Vision." You whispered, voice threatening to crack as you sniffled. Sam frowned, arms gently wrapping around you.

"Vision was nothing but a sweetheart. He didn't deserve it."

"I know, I know.." Sam gently stroked your hair, letting you cry into his chest.

"I'm sorry you've had to go through these past few years alone. I owe you one for taking care of Sarah and the boys." Sam said softly. You leaned back slightly, looking up at him.

"I couldn't leave her in the dark."

"Which is why I'm thankful." Sam gave you a gentle smile, thumb gently wiping away a tear.

"I missed you, Sam." You whispered, head resting on his shoulder. Sam rubbed your back, letting out a heavy sigh.

"I'm here now and I'm not going away. No matter how much Bucky complains. I have no issue thirdwheeling to annoy the fuck out of him." Sam said, grinning. You smiled, chuckling softly as you stepped back.

"Do.. Do you really like him?" Sam asked softly.

"I want to get to know him. He has a past and.. So do I. I don't know everything about myself so.. Our relationship will always be a work in progress while we heal and learn." You told him.

"You could always be with someone who doesn't have that much baggage."

"Like you?"

~~~~~~

Tags: @geek-and-proud @wolfelocksley @babyvisionisamenace @jjk-is-my-shit

[opluffys]

What We Aren’t- Killer x Reader

this took me so long cuz i had no motivation to write it... i fucking love killer but i’m so lazy lol. i hate this but there’s not that many fics for him, so enjoy? idk i’ve been unhappy with my writing for a while ughhh. please enjoy even though it’s bad! *please let me know if something looks off in the writing, sometimes it copies weird!!*

-smut/nsfw-

You sat perched upon your small, uncomfortable office chair, calmly awaiting a very important call. All you had been doing this entire day was waiting, for that damn transponder snail to ring. How long does it take to read over one single paper and respond back?

Being a member of a Supernova's crew meant a lot of injuries, you were no fool, no. You knew the toll it'd take on you as a surgeon to become Kid's ship doctor. One would take a look at you and assume you had enjoyed the challenge, the thrill of getting a new patient under the operating table each hour with something new wrong with them.

No, that was not the case, not at all.

Goodness, you adored being a surgeon, of course! Holding that scalpel and practically slicing people open always made you giddy. A sadistic surgeon, guess that's what people would pinpoint you as. But those were just simple perks of being the ship doctor on the Victoria Punk.

The real treat was the second in command.

Every time you weren't blinded by the lights in the operating room, you would steal glances at the attractive man. How mysterious he was just did wonders for you...

Over the years that you had stayed, you obviously had made advances. You wouldn't say that Killer always had women throwing themselves at him, they must be blind, though. So of course when you hinted that you wanted him in a more, intimate, manner, he at times accepted.

The two of you were not in a relationship, in fact, the two of you had barely exchanged any words to one another. Even though you always treated his wounds with utmost care, and not a word was said. Just a simple thanks and he was on his way.

You didn't care, though. You were not, by any means, looking for a long term relationship. You did not have the time for that, and you probably never would, if you were to continue your role as a surgeon, that was all you could focus on.

You scribbled notes down messily, crossing names out on the list quickly. While you waited for the transponder snail to ring, you decided to doodle a list. It wasn't important, not in the slightest. But you wanted to see how each crew member had gotten injured and where. It wouldn't help, but it was fun to see such a thing.

You heard the door swing open, being caught just in time in order not to bang against the wall. You were about to yell at whoever burst inside in such a way, but then you saw that familiar mass of fluffy blonde hair.

"Well, hello." You said, settling back into the chair, hearing it give a weak squeak in response to any weight put onto it. You really needed to get a new chair.

Killer grunted in response, and a small sigh left your lips. At times, you would question why he wasn't so talkative like the rest of the crew.

You quickly ripped the list that you had made, tossing it in the nearest trash bin you could find. You figured now would be a time to make an actual list you would use, not one that would bring you petty amusement.

"So, what do you need? You don't look injured, and I only do surgeries. So go over to the others if you have a scratch you need checked." You said, scribbling more unreadable words down.

"Since when do you only do surgeries?" You heard an unfamiliar voice pipe in. In question, you rose your head from the notes over to the voice you heard. After seeing a random lackey holding bandages, you scoffed and gave an eye roll.

"Too many on this ship come to me everyday to go under my operating table. You know that? Imagine if I had to take care of everyone else who came to me with a runny nose crying for dear life. I'd go insane." You said, relaxing your skilled hands in your lap, smiling proudly. Of course you would end up helping anyone who wandered into your office regardless. You knew nobody else could take care of anyone like you.

You shooed the young boy out of the office, who smiled in return to your words, not believing a thing, he knew how soft you were.

You groaned loudly, putting your head against the table. Why couldn't you be a mean pirate like your captain? Refusing any with a small bruise on their arm. It's your own damn fault, being too nice to the crew members, acting like their damn mother.

You then returned to take your notes.

"I need painkillers."

You nearly had a heart attack.

"You're gonna fucking end me..!" You gasped, feeling your heart beat quicken.

You calmed down quickly, your heart still beating quite quickly. Not because of how scared you were, but because of who was in front of you.

"Why?"

"I've been feeling a little sore and tense lately." Killer replied, leaning on the wall.

You laughed, bringing your hand to your mouth. "I can give you painkillers for that, but it can easily go away by a simple massage." You said, kicking your legs up onto the table. Hell, it was disrespectful, but it was your office. You could do whatever the fuck you wanted here.

"And I think I could help you out with that." You added, sounding a little suggestive about a simple favour to a friend, if you could call him such a thing.

"I thought you only did surgeries..?" He said, and you could've swore you heard a slight teasing undertone. Sly bastard...

You didn't bother a reply, you did not want to bicker with the man. Especially at a time where just a look at him paired with the sound of his voice would ignite your entire body on fire.

You sauntered over to him, urging him to take a seat. He did so, and you knew your chair couldn't take his mass of muscles for very long.

"Your shirt." You said from your place behind him. You were sure the both of you knew he didn't really need his shirt off. But ugh, that back of his...

You obviously were not a masseuse, but how hard could it be?

You dipped your fingers into his skin lightly, pushing harder when he didn't say anything to put a stop to you.

After around thirty or so minutes, you could've cooked anything with just the temperature of your skin. You were dying to be under the man in front of you, harsh nail markings sporting his sculpted back.

You leaned in a little closer, pressing your lips against the nape of his neck. He immediately stiffened, not being used to such a loving gesture.

"So? How does it feel now?" You questioned, spinning him around to view you.

You took a seat on his thighs, a much better place to be seated than your chair.

"I hope I made you feel at least a little better. It would hurt my reputation if one of my patients left without being helped, even just a bit." You grinned, hands roaming all over his built chest.

His breath hitched as you began to move your hips against him, feeling his hands attach to you.

"Now?" Killer questioned, not seeming to protest against any of your actions.

"Why not? I've been awaiting a call, but it looks like that idiot forgot about it."

It seems as if that were all the affirmation he needed, because soon after you said that, you were pushed harshly against your own desk, a surprised squeak coming from you.

Your garments were ripped off with haste, a lazy smile spread across your reddened lips.

Within seconds, you were just an utter mess. You always questioned how he always knew what your body had craved from him.      

He quickly pushed your soaked panties aside, sliding his fingers against your slick folds. You bit your lip to try to prevent any unwanted noise from leaving you, but just the sheer skill he had was too much for you.

Your cheek was against the desk, your mouth slightly agape. Such a lewd face you had made, and all he had done was a little teasing.

"So wet already. What have we done that was exciting?"

You whimpered in response, pushing your hips back in hopes of feeling his fingers, or rather, something else, fill your insides.

You felt his presence flush against your back, "Or maybe," he pushed his fingers inside agonizingly slow, nearly causing your death, "this had been on your mind the entire day?"

Fuck, this man was a master at reading people.

Your hands were balled into fists, nails creating marks on your soft palm. You didn't want to give in, you didn't want to beg, but your mind was beginning to disagree with your pride.

"No. That's not the case..." You gasped, feeling his thick fingers curling inside of you, "Hmm, I don't like liars. But, I do like watching you squirm."

"All you have to do is tell me the truth, come on. I know you can do it." Sick bastard. Fuck him. Yeah, you didn't need him, you could finish yourself off, if needed.

"I already told you," You took a deep breath, feeling him move behind you with ill intentions, "all that I've done today was wait for a call. Then, I'd seen you... My thoughts had run for a little, that's all."

Yeah right! Like he'd believe such a thing! This seems like a child who took something they shouldn't. It wasn't your fault, you weren't working properly. Your mind had become wired on feeling Killer inside of you, and that's what you had needed.

You heard shuffling behind you, followed by the removal of his digits. You grumbled unhappily, was he really hellbent on you admitting something that didn't matter? You were both adults, and adults were supposed to get mad behind closed doors. Yup.

While you had been lost in thought, you felt his tip press against your dripping entrance. Finally! About time! You almost broke out in song you were so happy.

You won this little dispute.

Actually, no. You didn't.

He pushed himself inside rather slowly, cock snug against your velvety walls. You expected him to start moving, or at least do anything. But nope.

Nothing.

"Seriously..." You mumbled, trying to move back into him, obviously he didn't allow this, hands stopping any of your ministrations.

This is fine. You were going to be okay like this. You weren't going to give up. You wanted to be a pirate, so you couldn't just rip your pride to shreds.

You knew he couldn't last longer than you. He would crack eventually, and you would triumph. In this case, it was seen as the opposite.

"You really can't admit it, can you?"

No! You couldn't! It wasn't the truth... Mhm, just keep telling yourself that.

You knew he obviously didn't care, he just loved to see you have an internal meltdown. He would use anything and everything he could against you. You could practically hear the 'teehee' come from the bastard.

He took a seat on your tiny chair, bringing you with him while the chair squeaked in discomfort. Now sitting upright on him, oh this wasn't good for you. You could feel him deeper inside of you and you craved more. You craved sweet friction of any kind.

You squeezed around him tightly, trying to ease him into forgetting about this little feud.

You heard his breathing become slightly uneven after that, you grinned, you had an ace up your sleeve.

"What kind of monster takes teasing to such a level?" You politely asked, slightly raising your hips. He wasn't able to stop you in time as you sank onto him slowly.

He was so heavy inside of you, you couldn't take it anymore. You wanted him to fuck you until your mind stopped working. You just got a little taste of what you could have, and you wanted more, you wanted it all.

"How about we take a rain check on this. I think we're both a little needy today." You smiled, you're such a genius. This way, you didn't lose. No, you won. You wanted to tell him to suck it, but you had boundaries.

"Fine. But next time, don't expect me to give in so easily." He sighed, getting a better grip on your hips.

You turned around briefly, seating yourself back onto him. You always secretly enjoyed being so close to him, hearing his heartbeat in an irregular way. Maybe it was because you were so close. Your face heated up a bit, no, that couldn't be it. You placed you hands on his chest gently, "You can move now." You braced yourself for a second, at times, the two of you had gotten a bit rough. You didn't mind, as long as the both of you enjoyed it, you were happy.

He lifted you slightly, you felt a little empty for a moment but sighed blissfully when you felt him back inside.

This was an odd pace... Almost like he was taking how you felt in consideration. Usually you fucked like animals, but this? This was more of a lovers pace. Even the way he held you, it was gentle, for such a large man you hadn't thought he could hold you in such a way.

Maybe he was still teasing, going at a slower pace than you were used to. You could wait a little, at least he was moving now. Your head made contact with his chest, a slightly more comfortable pose for you.

How awkward for him! Your soft hands at his chest lovingly, your face against him while he slowly pumped inside of you... This is what lovers would do, not people who just wanted a quick session... He almost imagined you looking up at him with teary eyes, mumbling an 'I love you'.

He too, felt his face warm. It was such an uncomfortable feeling for someone who didn't welcome such emotions.

A small part of you somewhat enjoyed this, being next to him like this. You wished you could feel his lips plush against your own at this very moment. You smiled while in thought.

He looked down at you through the holes in his mask, he didn't expect such a serene look on you..! You had been liked this, hadn't you? Holding him while you had sighed and whimpered with want.

He took no time to pull out of you, flip you the other way, so you were, once again, facing the desk. He shoved himself inside, pounding into you at a more wanted rate.

All of this has happened very fast. Literally blink of an eye. You had no time to adjust whatsoever, from a slow and leisurely pace, to harsh snapping of the hips.

The expression on your face was priceless, but also very vulgar. The illusion of lovers was wiped away instantly, meaningless pleasure filling its slot.

Your muscles had stopped supporting you, your body nearly becoming lifeless. You silently depended on Killer to keep your body from not falling off of the desk. You laughed imagining this actually happening.

Your eyes screwed shut while your lips had only been able to form, 'yes yes yes!'. You knew his ego was through the roof right now, having a girl under him screaming for more.

And you were right, spot on, actually.

Again, Killer didn't always have women offering themselves to him. You however, would happily flock to him anytime he felt like he needed to relieve some stress.

He looked down at you again, seeing your greedy cunt swallow his cock with urgency put him in a trance. Fuck you took him too good. It was literally as if you were the missing piece to his life.

The way your insides clenched around his length every single time he moved a single muscle, paired with your small and delicate moans... He felt like he'd break you in an instant at such a pace. But he knew you could take it, he wanted you to take all of him every time the two of you do this.

Tears came out of your closed eyes due to the intensity your body was undergoing. It felt fucking phenomenal to be stretched and filled and body bent while being pushed into the uncomfortable wood of the desk. God, you nearly unraveled right there.

Your grip on the desk tightened, knuckled turning a burning white. You couldn't go on forever, you knew that. But with the earlier teasing, you were going to be finished soon.

"Oh fuck yes... Right there fuck yes!!" You screamed, the feeling of pleasure skyrocket when he brushed against that sweet bundle of nerves inside.

"Right here, huh..?" He hummed, large hand caressing the curve of your ass. You panted and whispered something even you didn't know in response. You were just broken at this point.

You were certainly not prepared for when he continued to slam into that desired spot over, and over, and- oh fuck you couldn't handle this shit.

Your orgasm hit you fucking hard, you felt lifeless. Completely and utterly dead.

Seeing you moan and whimper desperately beneath him was, simply, hot as fuck to Killer. The way your body silently begged for more with every thrust, you lightly convulsing and squeezing him when you had gotten close, and the sudden outburst when you had finished... It just kept replaying in his head over, and over, and- oh fuck he couldn't handle this shit.

A deep grunt left him and he pushed deep inside of you again, a quiet whimper coming from you since you were so sensitive. His tip giving a final kiss to your insides, and finally sealing his hot release in you.

You mumbled incoherently while you struggled to get up, trying to pull on your panties.

"Woah, no need to waste." He grinned, pushing a finger into your entrance, keeping his cum inside.

You lightly fell onto his lap, not knowing he'd still stimulate your exhausted nerves. You turned your head into his hard chest and nearly cried.

"Don't be an asshole..." You muttered lowly, looking up at him, "Someone might come in and see."

"So? Maybe it's a kink of yours..." He replied, voice slightly hinting a mischievous undertone.

You snickered, rolling your eyes. When he wasn't so scary, he was quite pleasant to be around.

"Maybe... We might explore some of your kinks too." You giggled, feeling him stiffen at your response. Usually after sex the two of you would go separate ways. You would never bask in the afterglow with him, at least not this long. Talking so casually, too.

You were scared at what the two of you shouldn't become. This was a dangerous life, you couldn't get attached.

And finally the fucking phone rang.

It was as you hadn't just had the best sex of your life, finally this idiot had done what you asked. Who the hell knows why it took him so long.

"Yes? Hello?" You answered, getting off of your comfortable seat, which had been Killer, and leant against the desk.

"What a fucking view..." He mumbled to himself. It seemed that you had forgotten to put your garments on, just how important was this call?

You faked a laugh, this fucker said he went to the wrong island. How. How did that happen..? You would be sure to give him hell when he came back.

"It's okay! It's okay, I'm not mad!" Yeah, you're fucking seething. He was lucky you got remarkable sex out of this.

"Yes, please tell me how much they want for it? Also don't forget to try to swindle them for it, okay? I know you're a shy bastard but you can do it!" You said into the phone. He better get your herbs. You need these stupid little fucking plants or else you couldn't make your medicine.

"Holy shit, that's a lot of money... Well can you try-"

Oh he did not just.

While you were on the phone.

Your assistant constantly asked if you were okay, a shaky answer leaving your red lips.

"Hold on a second sweetie." You said calmly into the phone, acting like you didn't once again, have a huge cock deep inside of you.

"While I'm talking to someone? You couldn't fucking wait?" You whispered, bending slightly. This man had no shame, he wanted you to take it all, clearly.

"Let's see how quiet you can be." He retorted, not even acting like he'd done anything wrong. "Fine, just don't move too much. I don't want anyone on the other line figuring out that we're doing something so scandalous... It's quite rude to do so on the phone." You sighed, removing your hand off of the receiver.

You actually held up quite well, rocking side to side a bit while holding a normal conversation with the shop keeper, haggling about a price. You were so proud of yourself!

“No, put the price lower that’s way too... Too, ah..! Oh fuck..!” You yelled, feeling his large thumb rub harsh circles into your clit. Now everyone knew what you were doing, fucking great.

“Aww, and you were doing so well.” He chuckled, watching you shake under him. You didn’t bother saying anything back to him, too far gone in your own pleasure to care.

How embarrassing... You could try to cover this up, but you don’t know if that would end up well...

“Yes, yes I’m fine... Just stubbed my toe...” You laughed nervously, biting your lip not to let any unwanted noises out.

“How sly.” He smiled, hidden admiration in his voice. You gave him a quick middle finger, cursing at him a couple of times.

“Yeah thanks sweetheart. I’m gonna hang up now okay? Yeah, bye bye.” You spoke, not even hearing anything your assistant had said. You were focused on feeling another great climax, and certainly didn’t care about the price of the plant any longer.

“You’re so fucking wet...”

“Yeah, I wonder why.” Cue the eye roll, “I guess I was right? This is one of your kinks, isn’t it?” He grinned, pushing his cock deeper inside of your warm walls.

“You gonna finish inside of me without warning again?” You muttered, exhaling a shaky breath.

“Only if you want it babe.”

Oh. Oh he had called you babe. Names like those? Oh fuck now you were gonna get attached, and... And...

And maybe that’s okay.

“Fill me up.” You moaned, letting out a gasp of his name that you had chanted like a prayer.

You sure as hell didn’t need to tell him twice.

•Bonus•

“Hey,” You looked up at Killer, hugging him under the sheets, “I think I like you.” You sighed, worried for his answer. You had a feeling the worst thing that could happen was a simple no, but hopefully you wouldn’t lose the sex.

He took his warm hands off of you, which you took as a no towards your earlier statement. You felt a tinge of embarrassment, but since you were so tired, you also didn’t care.

He lifted his mask just so his painted lips were shown, he quickly captured your lips in his own and you felt the sparks fly. You initially thought that it was just sexual, but during the day when you had thought of him, goodness, you were oblivious to your own feelings.

“Really now? You’re not just using me for the sex, are you?” He whispered, voice husky and deep in your ear. You reached to scratch his goatee lightly, “Who knows.” You pressed your lips against his once again, sitting upwards and quickly growing hot. Who knew a make out session would be this hot? The mans got mystery, that’s some extra points right there.

“I think I like you too.”

[frxgments-of-frxgments]

The Accomplice looks at him and it feels as though they’re looking clean through. Like they can see beyond this life and this moment and into those already passed and still oncoming.

They’re probably an incredible companion to Murdock because of their observational skills. They somehow simultaneously make you feel like you’re in good company and at knife point. He can’t help but wonder if Murdock feels the same or if that particular edge is special for Illinois himself.

Either way, he doesn’t take offense to it. He trusts that he’s meant to survive this meeting.

Illinois lifts his hat from his head, worrying the brim with his fingers. Ah. So Murdock hadn’t gotten around to telling them yet.

“ Well. Obviously I’m stealing him off for a bit for a honeymoon, after we finally have the ceremony. I’ve already planned most of it out. ” He smiles, somewhat sheepishly. “ He’s said he trusts my judgement considering he’s never left this town and I have. ”

He spreads his hands, one still holding the hat, the other empty. “ After that… well, it depends on how homesick he gets, but he said he might like to join me on some of my adventures, just sometimes. ” Murdock needed to spend a fair bit of time in Murderville still. He wasn’t sure if or when that would ever change.

“ Murderville is supposed to be getting bigger as well. Though Murdock would know more about that part than I do, unfortunately. ”

Trust. A novel thing. The Accomplice doesn’t think they know what that is. Trust meant certainties, or at least the belief that they could exist. It meant knowing that somebody would keep their end of a deal. It meant being sure of anything at all. It meant everything that wasn’t them, that they weren’t permitted to feel, that they couldn’t possibly understand. It just hadn’t been written into them. They’d thought that it hadn’t been written into Murdock either.

But Illinois reeks of it. He trusts like it’s the most natural thing in the world, like it’s as simple as breathing, and perhaps for him it is. Perhaps it’s just a fact of his character. Written in the lines of his being like the slope of his smile or the curve of his jaw, easy smiles and easier charm, the trust in him spilling out and seeping into everyone around him. Inspiring you to trust him in return. To believe that he’d stay by your side and let you be more than you were on your own. That you could be something.

The Accomplice hates it.

They don’t hear much after he says he’s taking Murdock on honeymoon. Something about adventures, and Murderville expanding, or something. It doesn’t matter. All they can focus on is that Murdock’s leaving, going with him, going away, and their head’s buzzing with what might be the pounding of blood in their ears, or their own heartbeat, or whatever it is they’re supposed to be feeling. Do they have blood? Or a heart? They don’t know. It sure feels like they do right now. Something’s filling their head with noise, smothering Illinois’ voice with static and white noise, and they can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but replay his words over and over in his head like they might change if they only keep trying.

They wonder if this is what it feels like when a story ends.

They realise he’s stopped talking a while ago. They should do something. Offer a response. Sign something, do something, anything, but they feel stuck. Like they’re sending signals through a wire that’s been cut clean through.

I’d ask you to send a postcard, but Murderville doesn’t have a functioning mail system, they sign eventually. You hardly need my blessing. Are you asking me to cabin sit?

[hoe-doroki]

stay

A response to this ask:

Reader having a silent mental breakdown and trying to hide it with Bakugo and iida!( bakugo’s fine if not iida)

warning: detailed descriptions of panic attack, self-loathing

pairing: Bakugou x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

word count: 2.2k

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

It seemed stupid to have any kind of mental illness around someone like Bakugou.

Bakugou had experienced near death multiple times by his mid-twenties had had witnessed the worst of the world first hand. His teens had been littered with trauma and, as an adult, his work was constantly throwing him into circumstances where his body, his life was at risk. He did this day in and day out and it wasn’t even a question. He survived it all and, more than that, he let the world think it was easy.

Sometimes just getting out of bed wasn’t easy for you.

You felt like your body was rotting. You’d been on the couch all day and it smelled stale from the layers of lazy sweat you’d gotten on it. From the shower you hadn’t taken and the hair you hadn’t touched. But was it rot from the outside in—something a bit of soap and buffing could slough off—or was it the inside out? Harder to reach, harder to fix. As your brain sent your every thought clenching on your veins, your vital organs, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was both. Rotted from the inside out and the outside in.

You tensed when you heard the door to your shared apartment click, a key being shoved into the lock. Over the cold numbness that you’d felt all day, a shot of panic sprinted through your bloodstream as a million ways to lie popped into your head. You popped off the couch and tried to think of a way to look busy, so you ran to the kitchen and started boiling some water.

This was something Bakugou couldn’t see. The last thing you wanted, the last thing he needed was for you to be another person that he had to save. Another person to risk himself for.

You eyed Bakugou when he came in, shoulders drooped, gait wide. He looked tired, but otherwise normal. You usually tried not to worry yourself with the cuts and scrapes he often showed up with after work, and, so long as he was walking, he usually told you to calm down and that he was fine. You weren’t going to test it today.

“Hi, babe,” you said, putting strained effort into your pitch, your tone, your face. Maybe your voice was too high, maybe the smile spread a bit too wide, so you turned back to the water, watching it heat.

“Hi,” Bakugou greeted as he kicked off his sneakers, voice gravely as it usually was after a shift. He was in civilian clothes now, having showered and changed at the agency. A black tee and jeans that never fit quite right on his narrow hips and tall frame. “What’re you up to?”

“Oh, I, um…” You looked down at the water, still cool enough to stick a finger into. You’d done nothing all day, having skipped out on all your classes with half-assed emails sent to the teachers. The idea of going had been too much to take—for reasons you had no language for—so you’d wallowed on the couch as the hours of the day had bled away. So the question felt like an interrogation about to put a scalpel to your flaws. “I’m just heating some water for tea. Was gonna get started on dinner.”

“What were you gonna make?”

Bakugou was in the kitchen now, coming up behind you to press a kiss against your temple. Your heart rate increased but not in the good way. Not in the way that it should. Instead of flutters it was pounding, smacking against your ribs in a reminder that he was too close, you were too visible—you might explode and you would hurt him.

“I, um, I wasn’t sure,” you said, the answer sending shameful heat to your cheeks. And then you were slapped the other way by how stupid that was. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Okay,” Bakugou said, going to the fridge. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Bakugou was always insistent on having a stocked fridge. With his job and you in your master’s program it was hard to find the time to grocery shop, much less eat consistent meals together, but those were the kinds of things that Bakugou prioritized. The things behind his sharp persona and shrinking legacy of reckless anger that made him a good boyfriend. An amazing partner and enviable roommate.

And what did you offer him? Emotional instability without just cause? A nascent—at best—career while he was climbing the pro hero charts every cycle?

Who were you kidding? You hadn’t even gone to class. You hadn’t done any of the work that you needed to do—the evening was a wash now, so you wouldn’t catch up. You were just wasting everyone’s time, like you always did.

“Hey, babe?”

By the tone of his voice, you realized that Bakugou had called you multiple times. Your eyes flicked toward him, but your head felt heavy to lift. “Hmm?” you asked, squeezing every last bit of breath into that hum.

“The water’s boiling.” Bakugou walked over to you, two mugs with teabags slumped at the bottom. He set them on the counter and put a hand on your shoulder, turning you a degree closer to him.

“Oh,” you intoned, pulling away and turning off the fire. Stupid. You were about to grab the pot when Bakugou dropped his hand down to your elbow, giving a firm squeeze.

“Are you okay?”

You ignored his gesture to stop and reached for the kettle, putting all of your effort into keeping your hands steady as you poured hissing water in one mug and then the other. Doing something was the only thing keeping you upright as your thoughts continued to swirl in your head poisoning each brain cell you had. You hadn’t done anything worth living for today. But goddamn it, if you couldn’t make these mugs of tea, then you should just walk out of the apartment and let Bakugou be better off without you.

“Woah, woah, what’s happening?”

Bakugou’s hand was on your chin as he pulled your face a little too roughly towards him. Or, rather, it wouldn’t have been rough, if you weren’t resisting it. But you didn’t want him to look you in the eye. See what a failure you were. Someone who couldn’t even overcome a bad emotional day to go to class while he’d been out saving lives—as usual. He took the pot from your white-knuckled grip and set it on the stove.

“Why are you crying?”

Were you? You hurriedly brushed a hand under your eyes and they came away slick, the water hot as the tea you were steeping.

“The…The steam…” you started, prepared to lie and lie and lie until there was nothing real left. The real stuff was too hard to hold. “I think…It just must have irri…tated my eyes.”

Your breathing was running away with you, chest heaving as you pulled away and faced the other direction. Your attempts were thin, too threadbare to hide behind. And your boyfriend wasn’t nearly stupid enough to be fooled, even by your best efforts.

“Babe, tell me what’s wrong,” Bakugou said forcibly, stepping around to face you again.

His eyes were searching for yours, but you held fisted hands to your cheek as you turned away from him. Now you could feel the tears streaming, and you couldn’t turn them off. But what was there to tell him? That you were just a big, stupid idiot who cried for no reason? That watching him become a better man only emphasized how totally shit you were? That when the two of you were on the street together, you knew that people wondered what a guy like him was doing with a person like you?

“I just want you to stop crying,” Bakugou said, and you could hear him getting desperate, only making you feel worse. You were biting your lips closed to keep the sobs from tearing out, but that only made embarrassing little huffs come out your nose, whimpers sneak past the back of your throat.

You couldn’t stop crying. How could you stop it when you didn’t understand what had started it?

“I’ll just,” you hiccupped, backing away from him. “Just give me…I’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”

“Fuck that,” Bakugou said, grabbing your wrist. “Do you want me to go because you want me to go, or because you think you deserve to be alone?”

The words felt like a trick, a riddle from some fairytale turned nightmare intended to make you fail either way. Telling him the truth would trap him in whatever trip wires had you tied in knots right now. But, at the same time, he was expecting the lie. He wasn’t letting you save him from this.

But why? He was always saving people. Why, for once, couldn’t you save him from you?

“Idiot,” Bakugou said, pulling you in to him. You cried harder, the weight of your failure dropping in your well and spilling more tears out of you. “Why would I leave you alone?”

A sob crashed out, breaking through haphazard letters of attempted defense. He needed to go; him seeing you like this only made it worse.

“It, um,” Bakugou’s voice was low, a register that was unfamiliar even to you, unsteady and unrehearsed. “It seems easier to be alone. I know it does. But…you’ve shown me that’s not true, so just. Let me show you the same, okay?”

You could feel how hard he was trying as he pressed you into his chest and you finally, finally let him. The sobbing made you weak in the knees, light in the head, but he held you. He held you up, held you close, and he wasn’t letting go.

Everyone always talked about how crying felt good. About it being a release that helped you process your pain. And maybe that was right when talking about grief or loss, but not this. These tears felt like nothing more than splashing in the masturbatory wallowing hole of your self pity. Embarrassing and stupid.

“Why?” you finally whispered when the sobs subsided a bit, letting you keep enough of the air in to at least say that.

For a moment, Bakugou didn’t say anything, and you wondered if you’d imagined the words. If you were imagining the whole thing and he really had left like you’d wanted. But then you heard breath catch in the back of his throat as he seemed to try and fail to find the words a couple of times.

“In another world,” he finally started. “I’d come home from a day of work fucking exhausted, slump on the couch, eat, and pack it in to go to bed before starting all over the next day. And I’d probably be fine with that. But I’d be a fucking idiot, because coming home to you makes it worth coming home.”

Your breathing was steadying as he talked and you could feel the tears cooling against your cheek, against his wet t-shirt.

“Even with you looking like a damn mess like this,” Bakugou said and you could hear the smile in his voice. His smile, which had grown less rare over time, was always so wide that it made his words sound different. Warmer. They managed to draw a haggard chuckle out of you. “I’m happier just to be around you than convincing myself that being lonely at the top is the best way.”

“I don’t want to drag you down from the top,” you said. “Your company shouldn’t be dead weight.”

“Dead weight?” Bakugou repeated, pulling back to look at you. “Dumbass.”

He pulled you in again, both of his arms around the back of your head so that you were nearly smothered in his chest.

“That’s the stupidest fucking shit I’ve ever heard. You’re fucking incredible, and if that’s why you’re crying today, then you and me have to do some talking.”

Another laugh managed to crawl its way out of you and Bakugou let you pull back to breathe again.

“Are you okay now?”

‘Okay’ felt like such a far ways away. But you were above water again. Somewhere next to okay, distance undetermined.

“I’m surviving,” you decided.

Bakugou looked at you, a couple different things flashing over his eyes, too quickly for you to identify. “Well, that’ll do for now, but we’re not settling for that. Just talk to me. I’m not the best at this, but…I want to be better at it.”

In that moment, you remembered that Bakugou wasn’t perfect either. That he constantly had voices in his head telling him that he wasn’t doing enough and, not only that, he had the public constantly critiquing his attitude, his skills, his work. That, to some degree, this was already something you were going through together.

“I think you’re better at it than you think.”

Bakugou smiled again, this one not so wide, but more private. “You too, he said. Whatever bullshit you’re telling yourself—you’re better than you think.”

He pulled you in close again, and this time you sunk into it, enjoying his warm muscles, the way that his hair was still a little damp from the shower. You weren’t sure if anything had changed—all your problems were still present as they’d ever been. But yet, there was one thing. Now, with Bakugou’s arms like a buttress to your shaky but standing foundation, you, paradoxically, hoped that he would stay and stay and stay.

[babbushka]

I hope I made it under the Sinday wire! Can you write something with some kinky outdoors sex and fun with Flip please? Bonus would be him being possessive or angry or both! Like being mauled by a bear 😍. In public, around people, or private is all fine! Thank you!!!

Hi Zannah! From your mix and match prompt list, can you mix and match these? Rough sex, knowing someone can hear, outdoors, and exhibitionism. Maybe even body worship if you feel like it! I know that’s a lot but it seems like go together. Thank you for taking requests :)

(1k, NSFW: Sex in the woods, sex in a tent, exhibitionist!Flip, quickies, PIV, hair pulling, spitting)

You should be mad, you know you should. You should tell him absolutely not, there’s people around, your friends and family as a matter of fact! You should swat his hand away when he tries to reach out and touch you, giving you those big brown eyes of his…but you don’t do any of those things.

Instead, you’re letting him pull you by the hand to the campsite, away from the lake’s edge where the Organa-Solos and the Logans are all enjoying a wonderful day in their inner tubes. Where up until a few moments ago, you had also been enjoying the water. 

Flip had been enjoying you enjoying the water, a little too much, because he’s hard and he’s asked if he can fuck you and despite everything you know you should do, you’ve said yes.

“You’re un-be-fucking-lievable, you know that?” You gasp with an exasperated laugh against his mouth as he pulls you to him inside the tent, a small thing that barely fits the two of you when you’re lying still next to one another.

“I know, I know ketsl, but fuck you look so good in that tight fuckin’ swimsuit you’re drivin’ me crazy over here.” Flip’s already fumbling with his swim trunks, the scrap of fabric barely able to contain his hard cock.

“Okayokayokay – but we have to be fast, and quiet! someone could hear.” You bite back a grin, trying not to let him think he can get away with shit like this, even though he absolutely can and he knows it.

“Maybe I want them to hear, everyone should know how good I make my girl feel.” Flip raises an eyebrow at you, and you smack at his chest lightly because dammit you already have a reputation among your found family for fucking like rabbits as it is, the last thing you need is for them to catch you in the act here of all places.

“Do you need me to..?” Flip looks at you so eagerly, his calloused hand rubbing electric circles to the front of your bikini bottoms, and you roll your eyes fondly. Even when he’s desperately hard for you, he still makes sure you can handle it.

“No I’m still ready from this morning, just give me your cock.” You pull him down to close the distance between your bodies, kissing him hotly right on the mouth, a hand tangling in his soaking wet hair.

Fingers shaking, Flip tugs aside the bikini bottoms enough to thrust his cock straight into your cunt, making you have to grab his hand and put it over your own mouth to muffle the moans that are already, indecently, bubbling out of you. Flip gets straight to work, knowing that this can’t take longer than a few seconds, just needing to get the edge off, just needing to fill you up with come so that you can both return to the lake and your friends.  

“Fuck – that’s – so – good.” Each word is punctuated by a thrust, as Flip pulls back to spit on your pussy, pushing it inside of you with his cock that is already throbbing achine to come.

“Shh! You have to shut up, you’re going to get us in – oh! – in trouble, oh Flip!” You gasp sharply, your eyes clamping shut as he finds your gspot in record time. Flip lets out a breathless chuckle and smears a moan across your lips as he kisses you, tongue sliding against yours as he fucks you quick quick quick.

“Grab my hair?” Flip asks so sweetly that you don’t even think about denying him, your fingers twisting in his dripping locks, beads of water from the crystal clear lake falling around you like rain as you yank hard.

He shudders around you, the tent moving ever so slightly with the force of his hips as they rail into you, and on more than on occasion you accidentally kick the thin tent wall as your legs give in to the pleasure that courses through your own body. Flip was insufferable sometimes, but damn was he good at pleasuring you – even when he’s trying to pleasure himself, he’s always thoughtful of you, which somewhere in the back of your mind, you suppose makes up for the sheer risk of it all.

“I’m gonna come, you close?” Case in point, Flip is kissing all over your face and drooling into your mouth as he goes red and blotchy in the chest, a tell-tale sign that he’s almost there.

“Yeah, yes don’t stop, I’m close don’t stop.” You tug on his hair harshly again, and he moans low and deep, like an angry animal out in the woods where you’re camping, and you have to shove his face into your throat to try and muffle the sound.

You come together, a few moments later, and you’re grateful for it. The warm glow of orgasm and the throb of where your bodies are linked together spreads through your limbs and muscles, and the two of you let out a long breath, sated at last.

“Thanks ketsl.” Flip mumbles, face buried between your tits because that’s the only place he ever wants to be.

“You’re too handsome for your own good, you know that?” You shake your head fondly and reach around with a pleasure-weak hand for the pack of cigarettes he’s going to start asking for in a second or two.

“Love you.” He gives you a cheeky grin back, and you’re just about to echo the sentiment when you realize that this tent is green.

“…Honey?” You start, apprehensively.

“…Uh huh?” Flip frowns, wondering what could be the matter.

“This isn’t our tent.” Wincing, you nudge at his shoulder to show him that he just fucked you on the wrong sleeping bag, in the wrong tent.

“What?” Flip blinks, propping himself up and trying to get the bearings on his own surroundings, eyes still glassy and dazed from coming inside you – from still being inside you, not yet pulled out.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! You two have got to be fucking kidding me.” Kylo’s angry face makes an appearance just then, as he unzips the tent and sees the two of you locked in an extremely compromising position.

Whatever he had come for, he abandons at once, zipping the tent back up and walking back to the lake, leaving the two of you there to sit in embarrassment, and then after a moment or two, laughter.  

                                               ------------------

                                              ------------------

Tagging some pals! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @materialisthicc @slut-for-harri @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

General Hux x Female Reader/Ben Solo x Female Reader

A/N: This is a heavy chapter, Hux is just not coping 🥺

Warnings: lots of feelings and angst, implied suicidal thoughts

Word Count: 4411

Read Chapter 21 here on AO3

Masterlist

The day your husband woke up will never leave you. His body seemed to come to life before your very eyes, choking on his tubes, arms flailing against the wires as he tried to get his bearings. It wasn’t until you grabbed his face making him look at you, his beautiful green eyes dull and sunken but something sparked in them when he saw you. Hearing your voice calmed him and he lay back down, his eyes fluttering with sudden exhaustion and sinking back into sleep. You refused to leave him, not caring or paying attention to anything else on the base so much so that Poe dragged in a cot for you to sleep in. Rose and Finn would come in, bringing food and sometimes they’d stay and keep you company but everyone was so busy adjusting to a new way of life and making room for all the people that were now residing on Ajan Kloss.

Mitaka was the person you saw the most, he had recovered from his surgery and he told you how he had saved Armitage after he was shot, immersing him in the strongest solution of bacta he could find and moving him over to the Finalizer. He had then turned the ship against the Final Order, taking significant damage and finally arriving here only to plough the dead ship into the surface of the planet. Most of the time he just sat with you watching over Armitage like a silent guardian.

You were taking one very rare break from being at your husband's side, feeling the sun on your face and the breeze in your freshly washed hair. You felt the tightening of your belly but wearing the light clothing that had been given to you meant you could hide the changing shape of your body for a bit longer. You heard a noise, slowly opening your eyes you saw Kylo approaching. He looked different, the scar that you had traced so many times with your eyes was gone and he looked similar to when you had first met him, except now he was dressed like you. A shirt, leather trousers and boots, his hair was longer than you remember and his expression was softer, sadder even. He stopped a few large paces away, his eyes locking with yours when he saw you watching him.

“I heard what you did,” you said, turning back to bask in the light of the sun.

“I remembered what you asked me, how you asked if this war was over soon.” You dipped your head and scuffed your boot along the floor.

“What of it?” You asked.

“I remembered the desperation on your face and that’s what drove me to end this.” You let out a soft laugh.

“Don’t fool yourself.”

“It’s true!” He exclaimed, stepping towards you but you turned your angry gaze to him making him stop once more.

“You could have ended it at any time!”

“No! Not after he, him, Palpatine made himself known, if I had stepped down and disintegrated the First Order he would have swept in unchallenged and taken over the Galaxy yet again!” His expression was pleading as he tried to get you to see. “I had to wait, I saw the opportunity after Rey died and I took it. I had a choice and I hope I made the right one.”

“I guess we will see,” you replied, beginning to make your way back.

“How is Armitage?” He called after you but you didn’t stop.

“Like you care,” you shot over your shoulder suddenly wanting to be a million parsecs from him.

Hux’s recovery was slow but most of that was because he refused to talk, he would eat and drink and even walk around, using you to lean on but he would not talk. It frustrated you, making you grind your teeth in annoyance whenever you asked him a question and he stared into empty space like you weren’t even there. He got stronger but his nightmares got worse, his entire body would shake, sweat would drench his bright hair and he would yell so loudly. It ripped you to pieces seeing him so broken but refusing any sort of help. His body grew stronger by the day, no longer using you to balance himself and the walks you took lasted for up to half a day as though he couldn’t bring himself to return to the base.

You moved you both out of the medbay and into a hut, they were everywhere spreading far and wide to accommodate the people that now called this place home, the Resistance and First Order finally living in harmony. You felt a swell in your heart every time you looked at the encampment, a sadness that littered your soul when you realised the massive scar that now rendered the Galaxy. Many of these people didn’t know who their families were, where they came from. Some had nothing left and like you, nowhere to go. What had really been achieved except for the pain and suffering of all these people?

You sat up one morning, instantly noticing you were alone and panic slithered through you. You rushed out of your hut, barely pulling your boots on before you were charging into the jungle. Each pound of your heart matched the hurried rush of your feet and you retraced the paths you took with him everyday, but he wasn’t there. You tried to calm yourself but knowing how damaged he was inside you kept thinking the worst so you pushed yourself harder, struggling through the jungle only to happen upon the lake where the Finalizer still sat, dead and lifeless.

You nearly cried with relief when you saw him, his red hair a crowning glory in the early light of the day, his arms crossed as he stood like a statue surveying the broken remains of what used to be his home. You slowly approached, highly aware of how similar this was that rainy day on the estate.

“Are you just going to stand there My Lady?” You sucked in a breath, your eyes closing in relief at the sound of his voice, your heart beating with joy for the first in months.

“I do not mean to intrude,” you breathed hating the way your voice wavered with emotion.

“You’re not,” he replied but still he didn’t take his eyes off his ship.

“I’m so sorry Armitage,” you whispered.

“I should be the one apologising,” his face twisted with anguish and he turned away from the sight before him. “I’m sorry I ever married you and dragged you into this.”

“Please don’t say that!” It took you a moment to realise he wasn’t stopping and you hurried after him but he stayed just out of reach until you both got back to the hut. “Armitage!”

“You should just leave me, I’ve had plenty of time to think about it. I should stay here and face whatever punishment they deem fit.”

“This isn’t all on you, you can’t take responsibility for the entirety of this war!”

“Someone has to,” he muttered.

“It’s not your fault! I refuse to lose you again!” You almost screamed, making him look at you in surprise. Many emotions flitted over his face before he settled on that blank expression you knew so well.

“Why are you fighting so hard for this?” He asked dully.

“Why aren’t you fighting hard for this?” You cried back.

“You’re better off without me,” he shouted. His expression now one of distress as he ran a hand through his hair. “Everything is gone, everything I’ve worked for, fought for it’s all gone!” You went to reach for him but he pulled away from you, backing into the wall. “You don’t want me, you don’t need me. Just leave me alone!” Tears streamed down your face as his voice cracked, your heart was breaking from his words.

“You are worthy of love, Armitage.” He smirked and shook his head.

“How can you say that? How can you say that after what I did?”

“You didn’t have a choice,” he moved further away from you. Disgust lacing his features but you didn’t know if that was because of you or himself.

“Of course I had a choice. I could have gotten us out of there if I so wished.” His gaze rose to meet yours. “He got you out didn’t he? So why didn’t I?”

“Armitage please!” But he was beyond reason, lost in the hatred of his actions.

“You are better off without me, go to him, Kylo. He’ll look after you far better than I ever could.”

“Armitage, wait!” You followed him out of the hut, painfully aware that everyone in the vicinity was awake and listening to your conversation.

“No, nothing else you can say will change my mind…”

“I’m pregnant,” you blurred out loudly and you saw his back stiffen when he jolted to a stop, the few people you could see made shocked faces and disappeared into their huts. Finn and Rose paused to the side no doubt holding their breath as they watched the scene unfold before them. You wanted him to turn around, you wanted him to run to you, lifting you in the air with excitement but you knew he was going to be conflicted about this. Finally he did turn, his eyes on your hands as you twisted them nervously.

“Is it mine?” He asked stiffly. The question had you sobbing, you expected it, of course you did but you had hoped he wouldn't sound so indifferent about it.

“Y-yes.” He nodded before striding off. Words failed you, watching him leave you like this shattered your heart into pieces, littering the floor with your pain. You wanted to scream, to ask him to come back to face this with you but he was gone.

“C’mon sweetheart. He’ll be back.” Poe gently guided you back to your hut, you had no ideas where he had come from but you were grateful to him.

“How can you be sure?” You asked quietly, wiping your face.

“Well for one he’s got nowhere to go,” you glared at Poe through your tears but he at least had the sense to look ashamed at such a comment. “And two,” he continued. “For all his faults, Hugs is loyal to you. He’d never admit it to anyone, probably not even himself.”

“You don’t know him like I do,” you said softly.

“What’s that? I’m right? Yeah I’ll take it,” he smiled kindly at you. “I’ll go get some caf. I’ll be back ok?” You nodded, the smile leaving your face as soon as you were alone. You heard him talking to Finn and Rose, their voices trailing off as they walked away. You gently put a hand on your stomach, hoping Armitage came back soon. Poe came back and spent some time with you but you couldn’t follow the conversation, your eyes trained on the door waiting for Armitage to come back. Finally he made his excuses and left you alone, but it didn’t last long.

Your thoughts scattered when the door opened and you stood up, a flush creeping over your skin, a name on your lips but you couldn't utter it. Because it was the wrong man.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked incredulously.

“What do you want, Ben?” It still felt strange to call him that.

“I had no idea,” he rumbled.

“Yes you did. It’s why you saved me. Isn’t it?” He was too big for your space and you wanted him to sit down but you also didn’t want him to stay. “On the Finalizer, sending me to the Resistance you were giving me a chance with this baby.”

“I couldn't see you get killed!” He snarled curling his hands into fists. “I waited for Armitage to betray the First Order, his beliefs, to prove his love for you and he didn’t.”

“Because you would have killed him as soon as he put a foot wrong!” You hissed at him, trying to keep your voice low.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “I guess we will never know.”

“Please, leave me alone. He won’t come back if you’re in here.” You turned your back on him, hoping he’d get the message so you missed the crestfallen look on his face. The way his large hand went to reach for you but then he thought better of it and moved away.

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone.” You turned to reply but he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.

You paced, watching night fall beyond the walls of your little space, the fauna coming to life in the darkness and you sighed, trying to hold back the storm of emotions that threatened to engulf you yet again. You just needed to know he was alright. Your legs tired and you finally lay down, closing your eyes but sleep didn’t come so you stared at the door, tracking the rough wood yet again until he came back.

You sat up on the bed as the door slowly opened. He stepped in, his boots dragging on the wooden floor with each step, he didn’t look at you and instead rested heavily against the closed door. The fire had died down and there was silence outside indicating everyone was asleep. He slid to the floor, resting his elbows on his knees and thumping his head gently back onto the door. He looked exhausted in the dim light, his clothes slightly muddy like he’d been out trekking, his hair was wind swept but still as vibrant as ever. You ached to hold him close, to breathe your love into him so he could feel it but you knew he’d probably reject it right now. He was hurting, still coming to terms with the loss of everything he thought was important. He was having to rebalance, finding out the world did not run on the need for power and dizzying heights of control took time getting over. Nevertheless, you slowly slid off the bed kneeling just a few paces away from him, your hands clasped neatly in your lap as you gazed at him with sorrow filled eyes. The need to speak was driving you crazy, words filled your mouth before filtering out into nothingness not making it past the barrier of your lips. His eyes were closed, a pained expression pulled on his face and for a moment you thought he’d fallen asleep against the door when he shifted. His eyes opened and you rushed him, pulling him into an embrace that for once he didn’t fight. Neither of you spoke, taking the time to breathe each other in, accepting the first moment of comfort you had taken from each other since he had woken up in the medbay. He was warm and firm in your arms, alive and breathing as he wrapped an arm loosely over your back.

“Come to bed,” you whispered. “Please?” He had been sleeping in a chair no matter how many times you had offered him the bed he had refused to take it, until now. He stood almost swaying as you led him over, making him sit down so you could remove his boots and muddy trousers before letting him slip under the covers. You went to move away to let him rest alone when his hand shot out and grabbed you.

“Stay?” He asked softly and you tried not to smile. He moved over as you got in, not sure if he wanted to be touched or not but that uncertainty was banished when he pulled you tightly into his embrace and for the first time in a long time you felt contentment.

You awoke early again, feeling refreshed after a deep sleep because Hux hadn’t had a nightmare. You slipped out from under his arm and got dressed in some fresh clothes casting one last look at him you smiled before heading off to get some breakfast.

Poe was up early, sorting through the fresh supplies that had been brought back on the Falcon last night.

“Morning sweetheart, you look better.”

“I feel better,” you responded. “The trip was successful then?”

“We need to do another, even with people leaving to find their own way through the Galaxy there are still some arriving here because they have nowhere else to go. This lot won’t last us that long,” he commented.

“But it will do for now, you should be proud, General. You have created a safe haven for those who would end up wandering lost.” Poe sighed and you placed a comforting hand on his arm. “You know I will help if you need me to.”

“You already have your hands full,” he replied quietly.

“I am hoping my news will help him sort his priorities.” Poe’s eyes lit up and he grinned.

“A little bit of good news amongst the stress, how are you feeling? Here take some extra food,” he offered you.

“Poe I can’t, you have so many people to feed…”

“Would you just take it?” He growled, forcing more pouches into your arms. “I’ve got bottles of water as well…” you waited patiently as he retrieved a little crate and you placed it all in there, activating the hover mechanism on it.

“Thank you Poe.”

“Go go, I’m so busy,” he said, smirking, giving you a wink and making you laugh.

“Alright I’ll leave you to the very tedious task of counting!”

“Yes, thank you!” He called after you, picking up his datapad.

You had a little bounce to your step as you made your way all the way back to your hut, opening the door and guiding the crate in, you didn’t see Armitage sitting up at first. You closed the door and turned to give him a smile but the scene before made your blood run like ice in your veins.

“Armitage?” He was sitting on the edge of the bed running a hand over a blaster. “Where did you get that?” You asked quietly, panic licking its way through your body as he looked up at you. He looked so lost, his eyes were red and his pale skin blotchy, his red hair had lost its fire looking lank and dull as it slanted over one eye, his stubble was more pronounced today showing that he hadn’t attempted to shave.

“I just took it.” Your heart began to beat loudly, your pulse roaring in your ears, you wanted to call out for anyone but you didn’t know how he was going to react.

“What do you want with it?” You asked in hushed tones. He tapped it into his hand and you saw the safety was off, the panic heightened, thrumming through your body until it felt like all your hairs were standing on end.

“I didn’t know at first,” his voice was gravelly and tired. “But then I realised this could be it,” his shoulders rose and fell with a shuddery breath. “The answer to everyone’s suffering.”

“No one is suffering anymore,” you crouched down, slowly resting on your knees so you were on his level. “The war is o-over Armitage.”

“Then why do I feel like I’m still fighting?” He snarled. To your surprise he stood, the blaster gripped tightly in his hands and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You were losing him.

You watched him pace in the small living area growing more agitated by the second, mumbling more to himself than you. “I am suffering, I feel so useless, there is nothing to aim for, not goals to achieve. No order, no control, nothing to strategise, no one to fight, I feel myself going crazy…” he stopped and looked down the barrel of the blaster. Your breath stilled, an ache bloomed in your chest as the seconds slowed to a crawl. Thoughts of getting up and knocking it from his hand flashed through your mind but you knew you’d be too late. “This is the only answer I’ve found,” his eyes dragged to you. His brows rose for a moment in an expression of sorrow as he took in your tear stricken face. “I’m taking responsibility….” No! You wanted to scream but the sound got lodged in your throat when his finger squeezed the trigger. You closed your eyes expecting a light, a bang, the sound of him falling to the floor, anything. But there was only silence.

Your eyes flew open at the sound of the door smashing into the wall and Ben came in, his chest heaving like he’d been running, his hand outstretched as he held Armitage in an invisible cage, he wrenched the blaster out of Hux’s frozen grip and tossed it out of the hut.

“What are you doing?” Growled Hux and his eyes blazed fiercely at the force user.

“I came to stop you,” Ben huffed, still catching his breath.

“How did you know?” You flinched as Ben pointed at you but his gaze was still locked on the ex-general.

“I could feel her heart, breaking from across the encampment.” A gasp left you as strong arms wrapped around your terrified form and Poe hauled you off the floor, also out of breath.

“I’m sorry sweetheart we came as fast as we could,” he breathed into your ear.

“Just let me go with dignity!” Hux glared at Ben as he snarled through gritted teeth.

“There is no dignity in this Armitage. You have someone who loves you, she wants you. Don’t throw that away, the chance of a life because the First Order no longer exists.”

“The First Order was my life! It was all I had!” Shouted Hux.

“And look what you have to replace it,” Ben snapped, gesturing at you clutched in Poe’s arms. “Don’t be a fool, don’t let your fathers ambitions rule even now. Because then it really all would have been for nothing. These people helping you would be for nothing.” Hux sagged to the floor with a grunt when Ben released him.

“Are you alright?” He asked angrily, turning his back to Hux. You nodded, shaking Poe off and rushing to your husband. You knelt next to his folded form, you wanted to reach out and touch him and you felt the frustration rise that you couldn’t touch him. Even though right now it was all he needed to remind himself he had you, he had reasons to live.

“You need to go. Now.”

“I’m not leaving you…” started Ben but you cut him off.

“Yes, you are. Go.” Poe tugged on the bigger man’s arm, his hazel eyes locked with yours for a moment before giving in and following the pilot outside. Your hands over your husbands shaking form but frustration made you move. Using all your might you pulled at him, making him sit up.

“Armitage!” You grabbed his face making him focus on you. His entire being quivering with pent up emotions ready to be released, his green eyes blown wide but they looked at you as he tried to keep himself together. “They’re gone, you can let go.” He sagged with relief against you, his face crumbling and you hugged him close as he buried his face into your shoulder.

“I can’t look at their faces anymore,” he whimpered. “All I see is what I’ve done, over and over again written in their eyes, in the words they say, how they act…all I see is the hurt that’s been caused, all because of me.” You held him close as he silently sobbed into you, giving him the outlet he needed without a word.

“It’s not you, this doesn’t fall on you.” You shrugged him off your shoulder, making him focus on your face. “Promise me, promise me you won’t pull that shit again!” Your profanity made him raise his eyebrows in surprise even through the storm of his emotions. “I need you, we need you,” you stressed softly. “Armitage please,” you rested your forehead against his pulling him close to you. “You are loved and needed and I will say it until you believe it.”

“What if I never believe it?” He whispered.

“We’re family. I know you’re not used to that, you feel alone, I feel alone! Our home is gone, all I have is you. And I can’t…..I can’t lose that. Please don’t make me!” You covered your face with both hands trying to stifle the sobs that shook your body. The feeling of utter hopelessness wrapped it’s fateful arms around you dragging you down into the dark abyss you’d been holding at bay for so long. You wanted to ask him why he wasn’t letting you in, to let you help him but you knew it was pointless. You went to get up, to move away or leave, just to distance yourself but your eyes flew open when you felt his fingers curl around your wet hands. He pulled them down from your face, his gaze searching yours, his expression sad as his mouth opened.

“You are my home,” he whispered.

“Armitage…”

“You want me to talk, I’m talking.” You hiccuped a breath at his firm tone, an echo of the man he used to be finally shining through, but he was right. You’d spent all the time trying to get him to open up. You should listen to him now. He reached for your cheek, his long fingers gently wiping your tears away. “Starkiller, The Finalizer, Arkanis, none of them ever felt like home after I met you. Took me so long to see it,” he murmured. “To see how you helped me face myself and now,” his gaze flicked down to your stomach. “Now you are making me see something I never thought I’d see. How can I be a parent?” You saw the uncertainty in his gaze, the way his brows tried to pull down for a moment. “What if…what if I….become like him?”

“You could never!” You reached for him, bringing him closer until his forehead pressed into yours. “I know you’re scared, don’t make that face, you are allowed to be. I am. I’m scared.” You bit your lip as you chose your next words. “It feels easier to walk away but it’s not,” you said firmly, threading your hands into his hair. “If we face this together we can do it, Armitage. We can get each other through this.”

[javierpenaspinkshirt]

A Hundred Questions.

Mando x Reader - One Shot

Warnings: it’s fluffy and it’s soft and it’s a lil bit sweet. Loose Star Wars lore. Brief mentions of death. Dodgy formatting.

Words: 5.2k (woah, right?)

Summary: Mando is a touch starved man who just wants to be loved send tweet.

A/N: I wrote this while I was meant to be writing several reports for work so if you enjoy this soft rambling lmk so I can tell my boss I didn’t waste my whole day.

A Hundred Questions

It had been 6 months, you worked out, since you had met the Mandalorian.

He had landed on Jakku for supplies, knowing it was on an old trade route but also knowing it was only a mere few years on from the battle that had finally seen the Empire fall. He had assumed it would be largely empty and fairly quiet and he was right.

Mando had docked the Razor Crest in one of the bays you were overseeing that day. You’d had to stop your jaw dropping when you had seen him walking down the ramp of his ship towards you. You had seen a lot in your life, but never a Mandalorian. He had sauntered over to you and tipped a few credits into your hand.

‘I need some rewiring done’ his voice was gruff and tired, ‘will this be enough to get it done before I return?’

You looked at the credits in your hand, it was more cash than you had seen in years.

‘Absolutely’ you replied, ‘I’ll have her like new in no time’.

He nodded and walked passed you to leave. You turned to watch him go only to see what looked like a large green ear sticking out of the backpack the Mandalorian was wearing. You knew Mandos were often bounty hunters so you thought nothing more of it, only that it was none of your business.

You did your job and fixed up the ship as best you could. Your dad had been a mechanic before the war. He’d taught you everything he knew and though you had groaned and whined at the time, you were so grateful to him now. You had lost both of your parents and your siblings in the Battle of Jakku a few years ago. You had only survived because you had been underground working in the mines as the battle had begun. You and your fellow miners had hidden and waited out the siege. Eventually you had resurfaced to learn that the battle had been won by the Republic, but the fighting continued on for months until the last Imp dropped.

Mercifully you had survived the onslaught, but not everyone in your company had had your luck. Though you used the term ‘luck’ loosely.

The Imperial forces had arrived on Jakku months before the battle ensued, and in that time they had terrorised the locals. Your existence was an insult to them and they would assault and even kill residents simply for being there. But when the the last one finally dropped you couldn’t bring yourself to celebrate. You were on your own, and you had to get off this planet.

You had spent years working as a mechanic in one of the few lasting ship ports and had saved as much money as you could. You were hoping to be able to afford a small ship just to be able to get the hell away from Jakku and find somewhere, anywhere, else to be.

So when the Mandalorian returned from his trip for supplies you figured you would try and rinse him for a few extra credits. Every little helps, right?

He was walking with purpose towards you and the Crest, bag stuffed full of supplies and a tiny green child, like nothing you had ever seen before, waddling behind him.

‘Is it done?’ He asked, stopping to stand beside you and admire your handy work.

‘Yeah all done no problem, but I’m going to have to charge you for parts’ you wiped your hands on your overalls and put your hands on your hips to look up at him, hoping it made you look important and serious.

‘I’m not paying for anything extra’ the helmet turned to look down at you, ‘I asked for wiring, nothing more’.

His voice was low and gravelly. It made your stomach flip and you lost your cool.

‘Hey you asked me to fix what I could and I did, this thing is gonna fly better than it did when it was built, mate! I need the money for parts!’

‘Absolutely not’ was the only response you received before he bent down to scoop up the strange green child who was cooing at his feet, and began to walk aboard the ship.

‘Wait!’ You called, running up the gang plank to catch him ‘please! Please I need this, please! You don’t understand’ the desperation caught in your throat as you ran passed him and stood in front of him to stop him walking up any further.

‘Please’ you lowered your voice and looked around to make sure none of the other mechanics, or god forbid the boss, could hear you pleading, ‘please, I have to get out of here, I need the money’.

You couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew the Mandalorian was staring you down, making a judgment of you and deciding whether you were worth his time.

‘What are you like with kids?’

Your eyes widened, ‘excuse me?’

He held the little green child close to his chest and looked down at him. The baby cooed at him and made a little grabby motion at the helmet.

‘Can you look after a child?’

The truth was you’d never met a child you liked. You had had several siblings before the war and as the oldest you had often been stuck babysitting, and rather than hone any kind of parental instinct you may have had it had dragged it behind the barn and shot it dead. You adored your siblings of course, and you missed them endlessly, but you would rather have been their sibling than their surrogate parent. Children were your nightmare, but if the small green boy was your ticket out of here… Then you guessed you were going to have to learn to like him.

‘I can’ you agreed, ‘but I’m not a glorified babysitter y’know, I’m a mechanic and a damn good one!’

‘I know, you would be a valuable crew mate. I don’t need a babysitter, I need a mechanic and someone I can trust around the child’, his helmet dropped to look at the baby again. If you could have seen his face you would’ve seen the smile spread across it as he looked down at his little foundling.

‘Trust is very important to me’ you explained, ‘I promise I wont let you down’.

The Mandalorian straightened and sighed, ‘go grab whatever you need and meet me back here in an hour. If you’re not here, I will leave without you’.

Your eyes widened and you darted off the ship calling out behind you that you’d be back soon.

That had been 6 months ago. Since then you had been travelling with Mando and the little boy and it was the freest you had ever felt. You’d fallen into comfortable routine with your time split between him piloting and securing jobs and you maintaining the old ship, keeping her flying and keeping her safe. You shared taking care of the child and, despite your initial reservation, you had fallen in love with the little creature. He was different to human children, he needed more supervision than care and was capable of moving himself around the ship with alarming speed. He’d often sit beside you, fiddling with bolts or some of your tools while you fixed things and he’d watch with those big inquisitive eyes as you grumbled about the mess the wiring was in or rambled on with stories of your childhood. He made you miss your siblings but you pushed those painful feelings aside whenever they arose, instead choosing to tell the little one stories of happy times with your family, especially your dad. He would smile and cock his head as you spoke to him.

Occasionally Mando would listen from the cockpit if you were close enough for him to hear. You never really spoke to him about your family… but that was largely because he didn’t ask. Usually you’d sit with him of an evening once the child was asleep. He’d be in the pilot’s seat and you would sit behind him and ask him a hundred mindless questions. Sometimes he’d answer, sometimes he’d just grunt, but he enjoyed the way your mind worked. He had explained to you early on about the rules about his helmet and he had been relieved when you had immediately respected them. You would make the occasional joke,

‘Bet you’re a gungan under there’ you’d smirk.

Like he hadn’t heard that one before. But he didn’t mind because it was you. You would ask him about his armour, about the creed, you’d even once asked about his family. He’d revealed that he was a foundling but nothing more. You had got the hint and stopped your questioning.

This evening was no different. Mando had secured a job on some outer rim planet you’d never even heard of and you were only an hour or so away from landing. The child had nodded off so you’d left him in the cot in the hull where the two of you usually slept, leaving the door open so you could hear if he stirred from the cockpit.

You resumed your usual position in the co-pilot’s chair and started your usual barrage of questions. Mando grunted at most of them and answered a few.

‘So tell me then, Mandalorian’ you crooned ‘when was the last time you took the helmet off?’

‘This morning’ was the typically blunt answer.

‘Okay but when?’

He spun round in his chair to look at you, beskar glinting, ‘this morning when you were feeding the child’.

‘I’m gonna have to get sneakier if I’m going to ever catch a glimpse of you aren’t I?’ you chuckled.

He let out a gentle exhale. He knew you were joking, he trusted you never to look as you promised you wouldn’t. But he still felt a well of anxiety when you’d joke.

You sensed you’d gone too far and backtracked, ‘sorry I shouldn’t have said that, I was only playing. I would never, Mando. I promise, I owe you my life I’m not going to be the one to ruin yours’.

He cocked his head to the left gently and you hoped it was because he was smiling.

The truth was you hadn’t ruined his life. You’d turned it upside down a little but he didn’t mind. After the events of the last year, protecting the child, having to go on the run, having to face down Moff Gideon and almost dying… being out here with you and his foundling was the escape he craved. He had mentioned Cara to you briefly but he offered no detail as to the origin of the child or any stories about what had lead him to arrive on Jakku and meet you.

He wasn’t ready to talk about it yet and he knew you understood. Though you could question him for hours about all sorts of inane crap, you were good at taking no for an answer.

But the one thing you would bring up consistently was his helmet. He knew you were curious. You wanted to know who the man under the Beskar was and he understood that. He got to look at you all day, see the way you smiled at the child or the way your brow furrowed when you were thinking. He got to see your body, clothed of course, but he got to see the way your hips swayed when you walked or the way the muscles in your arms worked when you were lying down trying to fix something on the ship. You hadn’t even seen the colour of his skin.

He wanted to show you more of him. He had slowly and cautiously admitted feelings for you to himself but he wasn’t ready to admit them to you yet. In the last month or so he had started putting his forehead against yours, especially before he went to bed. You would get up to go down to the hull to curl up with the baby while he would stay upstairs in the sleeping quarters behind the cockpit. But he’d make a point of gently pulling you to him and putting his forehead against yours for just a moment. You never questioned it but he could feel the way your body would tense when he held your arms and then relax as he gently tapped the helmet against you. He didn’t think you knew what this gesture meant and he wasn’t going to explain it. But he hoped you were getting the hint without him having to say anything.

He was still looking at you, waiting for your next question of the night when there was an almighty thump and the ship shuddered violently. Without thought or hesitation you were out of your seat and down the ladder into the hull. The little one had woken up at the jolt and squealed as you scooped him up and ran back up to the cockpit.

Another clang and all the lights bar the dashboard control and the dodgy LED emergency lighting went out. The cockpit was dark save for the blue lights of the dashboard and the child squealed again and clung to your clothes. You sat down in the co-pilot chair and hung for dear life, holding the child as tightly as you dared.

‘Hold on’ Mando commanded as he threw the ship around, dodging what you could now see were meteors and space junk flying at the Crest at alarming speed. The planet you were headed towards was well in view now and you hoped to gods that Mando could get you there without doing too much more damage to the ship.

A few more minor knocks and a few hisses from the engines and Mando managed to land on a baron plain, covered with what must be ash, with no sign of a moon or sun and a dark cloud swelling.

‘This… is where the job is?’ You looked out of the window, holding the child up so he could see where his father had almost crash landed you.

‘Yes. Sorry I shouldn’t have taken my eye off the controls… the meteors knocked the lights and the heat out’ He flicked a few switches but to no avail and slumped back in his chair.

‘Can you fix it?’ He turned the chair to look at you.

‘I can but not until morning, its dark and I wont be able to see properly even with a flashlight. I’d have to go outside to see the damage but if I’m honest I don’t really wanna do that tonight… even with you standing guard’.

Mando agreed and stood up, ‘it’s going to be too cold for you and the kid in the hull tonight, you’ll have to stay in my quarters’.

A lump caught in your throat, ‘with you?’ You hadn’t meant for it to sound quite as eager as it did but it was out there now.

‘No’ was the matter of fact reply, ‘I’ll be here, I can sleep in the chair.’

‘No way, Mando, if you’re going on a job tomorrow you need to sleep, you can have the child in your room, I’ll stay here’ you stood up to make a point.

He sighed. The baby whimpered gently, he was cold. You held him close and wrapped him in the cloak you were wearing. It used to be an old cape Mando wore but it had been ripped and was way too short for him. You adopted it and patched it up and proudly wore it everywhere, it was your little piece of him. Now you used it to wrap the little one tightly to try and warm him.

The temperature outside was freezing and without the heat in the ship you would all be feeling the cold in no time.

Mando finally stirred, ‘I have an idea.’

You looked at him as he sunk down on to his haunches in front of you. He took hold of the loose end of the cape you were holding the baby in and took a knife from his boot. He cut a small length from the cape and held it out to you.

‘Take this. Go into my room, get the baby settled and get yourself comfortable. Then put this over your eyes and call for me’ he was so matter of fact about it that you didn’t question it, just did as you were told.

You had never actually been in Mando’s sleeping quarters before. It was a small room, no kind of decoration or homely nature to it, classic Mando. There was a single cot in the corner against the wall that you assumed he would make you sleep on, you knew him well enough not to fight him on that. You put the baby down on the floor, still wrapped in your cloak. His eyes were drooping and he was gently cooing to himself.

‘Getting sleepy, little one? You can sleep here, I’ll get you your blankets and we’ll make you a nice bed, yeah?’ You spoke to him softly and he lifted his little hand to you. You took his hand and gave it gentle kiss before zipping down to the hull to grab the blankets the two of you usually shared. It was freezing in the hull and you were grateful to Mando for insisting you slept in his room.

You went back to his quarters and swaddled the baby tightly. You put him on the floor at the foot of the cot so you could still hear him if he woke up but wouldn’t squish him or accidentally kick him out of the small bed in your sleep. He drifted off as you were positioning him comfortably, you thanked your stars.

You had grabbed a long tunic from the hull and changed into that, discarding your clothes and boots on the floor. You felt the cold and dived under the thin covers on the cot and put the makeshift blindfold over your eyes.

‘I’ve got the blindfold on’ you called, a slightly inappropriate thought raced to the front of your mind but you shoved it back before any damage was done.

You heard the door open and close and the gentle thud of Mando’s boots on the floor. The room was completely dark save for one small port hole on the far wall. You probably didn’t even need the blindfold, you couldn’t have seen him anyway! But you knew the blindfold helped his peace of mind.

You sat in the bed as you listened to the delicate, dull thuds of pieces of beskar being removed. You tried to guess what was what by the weight of the thud but you gave up after the third piece. Finally the quite clanging stopped and a heavy silence hung in the air.

‘You promise me you wont take that blindfold off?’ His voice was still modulated, the helmet still on.

‘I promise’.

There was a gentle hiss and a click and a quite thunk as he put the helmet down on the floor. You heard him move closer to you then drop what you guessed were blankets on the floor. You could hear him shuffling around, laying one blanket on the floor then covering himself with the other. He was still at last.

‘Good night, Mando’ you whispered into the blackness.

No response but an un-gloved hand reached up from his makeshift bed on the floor and gently squeezed yours.

Your whole body tingled. You couldn’t see him, or anything at all for that matter, but that was the first skin to skin contact you had ever had with your usually beskar-clad hero. You placed your other hand on top of his and squeezed back. That was enough for him and he removed his hand and you heard him wriggle a little until he was silent again.

What you didn’t know was that his heart was racing. He hadn’t felt the touch of another person for longer than he cared to count and it was all the more wild that it was you he had finally been able to touch.

But the memory of the last time he had had his helmet removed haunted him and clouded the joy he so wanted to feel. The flashbacks came occasionally; the explosion, the ringing in his ears and the blood. He’d had to tell Cara to take the child and to run for their lives. He had laid there in the rubble and dust, smoke filling the air and a droid, that would later go on to sacrifice itself for him, standing over him reasoning as to why it should take his helmet off.

In the end he had relented and allowed it to and IG had saved his life. But the trauma of the whole ordeal was still too fresh to ignore and lying on the cold floor of his room, completely exposed without any of his armour was almost too much to bear.

He wanted to sit up and slide himself into bed next to you and hold you, if for nothing more than comfort. He’d been alone for so long and suddenly he had a foundling, a family of friends, and a crew mate he wished was more than just crew. It was a lot to take in but you were pretty good at calming his nerves when he needed it. There had been a few instances when bounties had proven to be tougher than expected but you had always been there waiting for him to return, somehow knowing all the right things to say but you had never dared reach out and touch him, fearing it would offend or upset him. Really it was what he wanted most.

Sensing the restless body on the floor beside you you attempted to reach out and feel where he was. Your icy cold hand made contact with his bare shoulder and he hissed and shot away from you.

‘Shit sorry I didn’t realise you were so close!’ You whispered, trying your best not to laugh but a small snort escaped you and you clasped your hand over your mouth to prevent another.

‘What are you? Part Trandoshan? You must be cold blooded!’ his response was sharp but there was humour in it.

‘Trandoshan? Tall, fearsome, not a fan of Wookiees? You got me’ you giggled quietly again but stopped abruptly when you realised that was the first time you had ever heard his voice un-modulated.

You could hear him breathing slightly heavily from the shock and you took in every breath not knowing whether you would ever hear it without the helmet again.

He settled back down and calmed himself. The shock of the freezing hand on his arm had shaken him from his rapid thoughts of lava tunnels and enemy fire and left his heart racing again.

‘Are you really that cold?’ He whispered up at you.

You nodded but realised he couldn’t see you and rolled over so you were on your front looking down at him, ‘I’m from a desert planet, I don’t do cold! But I’ll be fine once I’m asleep’.

Mando formulated a plan but first he quietly sat up to look at the foot of the bed. He moved to his hands and knees silently and knelt down as he touched his hand to the child’s sleeping forehead. He felt warm enough, safely enveloped in the blankets you had wrapped him in and happily snoring in deep sleep. Mando smiled to himself.

Then, before you could ask a question or protest, Mando pushed you over to the edge of the cot and against the wall. His hands were warm as he gently scooted you over and awkwardly fumbled with the covers as he got in beside you. He was trying to be as quiet as possible but the bed frame creaked, only used to having to support one body.

‘You’ll wake the kid!’ You hissed.

He shushed you and flipped you so that your back was against his torso. He slipped an arm under your neck and draped the other over your ribs and pulled you tight against him. He reached up with the arm under your neck and gently checked the blindfold was still in place.

You smiled at his abundance of caution ‘it’s still there’, you reassured him ‘not that I could see you without it anyway, it’s so dark’.

He huffed gently and put his arm back down and held you close to him.

He was bare chest but radiating heat like a small thermal oscillator. You sunk into him not wanting to cause too much of a fuss in case you put him off and he went back to the floor. But you desperately wanted him to talk to you. You wanted to hear his voice and see what he sounded like when he laughed and you desperately wanted to know what he looked like. You knew you couldn’t see him and you wouldn’t ask to, but maybe you could feel him?

You began to wriggle as slowly as possible to avoid the bed squeaking too much and rolled yourself over so that you were lying on your other side, face to face with Mando. You made sure the blindfold was in place and put your hands down in the small gap between your bodies so as not to touch him with them and startle him with the cold again.

He still had an arm under your neck and the other now gently traced circles on your back.

‘Mando?’ you began.

He grunted back at you and you had to stifle another laugh. Even in the most intimate moment you’d ever shared his immediate response was to grunt at you.

‘Mando… can I touch you? Is that allowed?’

His breathing hitched and you felt him shift ever so slightly and you feared you’d done exactly what you were afraid of and crossed a line.

He moved his arm from your back and took your hands in his. His one hand was big enough to envelop both of yours and you had to smother another inappropriate thought before it blossomed.

‘Not until these are warmer’ he whispered giving your hands a squeeze.

You beamed at him and you hoped he could see you even just a little bit to know how happy you were at the possibility of actually being allowed to touch your Mandalorian’s skin.

He couldn’t see you, but your faces were close enough that he could feel the way you sucked in air in an excited gasp as he said it and he was sure you were smiling at him.

He carefully brought your hands up to his chest and rested them there, letting go and returning his hand to your back and pulling you closer still so that your bodies were touching, his chin resting carefully on the crown of your head.

You spent a few moments just taking in everything you could about him. His skin was soft but scarred. You traced scars and old wounds across his back and his chest. His shoulders were tough and knotted, muscular but tired from carrying the weight of the beskar pauldrons every day since he was little. Every scar told a story and maybe one day you’d be allowed to see them, not just feel them, and you’d be able to ask a hundred questions about how and where… but for now you just gently dipped your fingers into every mark that made him who he was.

You moved up to his neck and felt his heart rate racing as your hands edged closer to his face. You stopped just below his jaw and shifted your head up to look at him. As was normal to you now, you couldn’t see his eyes so you just stared where you hoped they were.

He gave you a timid nod and you breathed in hard as you slowly moved your hands up to his jawline. There was stubble, maybe a few days worth. You wondered if he shaved often? His jawline was sharp and defined, you had imagined it as such. You gently moved your fingers along it, taking in every dip of his mandible that indicated an old injury, every mark you could feel that could have once been a wound, and enjoyed the knowledge that even a proud warrior couldn’t always be bothered to shave.

You left one hand at his jaw and moved the other up his cheek, stroking it gently with your thumb, and moved across to his nose. It was pronounced but fitted the shape of his face beautifully. You would have to imagine how striking his side profile must be. There was a scar across it and little ridge at the bridge that suggested that maybe it had been broken once. You weren’t going to ask now.

You carefully traced a thumb over his closed eye, his eyelashes long and his eyebrows unkempt but not wild – a little like him maybe. You moved up his forehead, more scars and bruising, you wondered exactly how much good that helmet did him. Finally you found his hair and you ran your hand through it and pulled ever so slightly. It was longer than you imagined but not so long that he didn’t care for it. The fact it was at the length it was meant he must cut his own hair, that was enough to pull a smile out of you.

He felt you smile against him and he winced slightly, afraid you were laughing at his messy hair or his bruised face. You rubbed your other hand against his jaw.

‘What colour is you hair?’ The question was tentative, walking on thin ice and unsure how far was too far.

‘Brown’ he whispered, the bass in his voice making your soul leap a little.

You moved your hand back down to his eyelid, ‘and these?’

‘Also brown’ the whisper was even quieter now.

‘Mando, I think you’re beautiful’ you said it as sincerely as you could. You meant it.

He didn’t respond, just lay there still as anything, holding you against him.

You rested your palm on his cheek, feeling the stubble under it as he moved his head to look down at you. He put his forehead against yours as delicately as he could.

You could have stayed there for a hundred years. Wrapped in his arms, his forehead pressed to yours, feeling his breathing slow as his heart rate settled, his skin against yours.

But he moved, and you were afraid that was the end until he took his hand from your back and used it to tilt your chin up towards his face.

You felt his lips against yours and it was like an explosion had been let off inside you. It was tentative and cautious but he held your chin firm, not wanting you to move away from him. His lips were soft, a little chapped, but so undeniably him. Firm but inviting, hesitant but wanting.

He moved his hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, being careful not to knock the blindfold and broke the kiss. He put his forehead back against yours and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

You put your hands back on his chest and lay still with him. He would kiss you again but he would need a minute first. And that was fine by you. This was unchartered territory for him and you would give him as long as he needed. There would be time for a hundred questions later.

[fandom-------queen]

Kurt x reader

Notes: your mutation is the ability to read people's fears and traumatic memories. You can also produce illusions for everyone to see or put an illusion only in one person's head. These illusions can be based on their fears or memories. Also since it's based off of Wanda and more of the mind stone your power will be yellow and your eyes will glow yellow.

Warnings: intense description of fighting and invading people's minds, using past trauma in fighting maybe one curse word I think, a broken arm, passing out. Please tell me if you find any other trigger or content warnings I should include!

*maybe spoilers for first class

*Not proof read

*Also I love Eric and Mystique but I needed someone for them to fight against and this made the most sense to me.

You were very nervous as you sat next to Kurt on the jet. You, Kurt, Scott, Jean, Peter, Storm, Charles, Hank and Logan were all on your way to prevent Eric and Mystique from wreaking havoc on humans in the name of mutants once again.

Kurt was holding your hand while you stroked your thumb up and down it. He was nervously wiggling his tail around by twisting between your legs and sometimes using the tip to stroke your leg. You would cast him small smiles and give him gentel hand squeezes just to help ground him since he always got nervous when it came to this.

You were getting close to the outside of the city were you would land as to not alert Eric that you were there. Charles spoke up telling people what roles they would be playing in order to stop Eric.

Your job would be to distract Eric's followers and him if nesessary, to allow your teachers to gain control over the situation. You knew you probably wouldn't only use your illusions since they took much concentration and could leave you open to attacks so you figured you would also use your hand to hand combat that all mutants were taught in case it was more useful or nesessary.

Kurt was also going to be distracting Eric's followers but with hand to hand combat so that Logan, Charles, Hank and Storm (even Peter I'd it came down to it) could focus on stopping Eric. When Kurt did hand to hand he more teleported around to confuse his opponent and would lash out at their feet with his tail to knock them down and tire them out. It was different but effective.

You were going to be landing soon and you felt Kurt's hand start to lossen around yours and quickly unthreaded your fingers. You knew Kurt was going to want to pray and you were happy that Kurt always had and always will have something to ground him, besides you of course.

Just as you touched down you heard Kurt murmur and Amen and then he turned to you "Please be carefully meine liebe, check in with me if you can just so I can feel better knowing you are safe" he pleaded as his hand game to rest on your face.

You pressed your hand on top of his and gave him a reassuring smile."I love you too miene liebe and I promise to stay safe and check in as long as you do too' you quickly kissed his cheek and started to unbuckled your seat belt as Kurt did too.

Charles gave you directions to go in so you could surround Eric. You, Scott and Logan were going left around the base Eric set up and Kurt, Jean , Peter and Storm went around right. Hank and Charles were going directly through the middle of the town in an attempt to talk things out with Eric.

You made it around Eric's perimiter and got a visual on Eric and a few of his followers. You watched as Charles attempted to stop Eric, and Hank stood next to him as beast to protect him from Eric, Mystique and their followers. Once Eric began to raise metal and the other mutants started to braise for a fight. Logan gave you the signal and off you all went. You started with the girl closest to you who's mutation was elastic like limbs. Your eyes turned yellow as her motors flossed your mind yellow energy surrounded your fingers as you found a memory of her parents berating her for being a mutant. You almost felt bad for her but her parents actions shouldn't be the reason for everyone's punishment. You twisted your hands in front of you using your magic to invade her mind and cast the illusion. Before you got too involved you backed yourself against a wall to give you some protection since you would be to focused on the details of the illusion. You replayed the memory but you made it more intense. You knew that once she snapped out of it she would be confused and upset but other wise fine so you didn't feel to bad. Your goal was to tire her out so she wouldn't be as big of a threat and now that you had done it emotionally you made her believe she snapped out of it and was fighting you. She swung punches and extend her arms and legs to trip you up. However, you were actually fine, close enough to manipulate bit far enough to be safe. You could feel her growing tired and in the illusion landed a blow to her temple. Her brain thinking it was real knocked her out and you fell out of her brain once it gave in to the exhaustion.

Blinking around you looked to see if anyone was in trouble and saw Scott fighting a winged man who wouldn't stay down your eyes turned yellow and the energy flowed around your fingers as you saw his fear of cages. He had been kept in one and forced to fight and as much as you disliked bringing up trauma you also couldn't leave Scott in a position where he didn't have the upper hand. You sent an illusion that everyone could see of the winged boy being stuck in a cage. Scott looked over and saw you as you held your hands up manipulating them around and it's the yellow energy covered your eyes and swirled around your fingers. You focused your gaze and you brought the cage down making him land on the ground. You saw Scott found some wire from a fence and you saw a three walled pile of debris with more debris on top acting like a roof. You moved him back into there by moving the walls and he kept backing up untill he was secured in there. Scott found some wire, removed his glasses and melded it to some metal structural beams in the debris to make the fourth wall. It was enough space for him but not enough to spread his wings so he wouldn't get out. You stopped the illusion and he looked around confused he saw you and tried to break out of the wire, but that wasn't something his fluffy angel wings were good for. Scott gave you a nod of thanks and the two of you headed into the fighting to find other in need of assistance.

You saw Logan doing fine on his own, Beast and Storm as well. Charles was focusing on distracting Eric and Peter was zipping around sending blows to people to knock them down. You saw a women not far from you with finger lazors, no longer down and about to hit Peter as he stopped to take a quick check of the field and you quickly raced over to her. Before she had the chance to fire you slid onto the ground and kicked her feet out from underneath her. You used your momentum to jump back up as she to came back this time her attention on you. You didn't have time for an illusion so hand to hand it was. She prefered to throw punches and kept close enough to you that neither you nor her could give a strong enough kick. You instead blocked and give the occasional elbow until you eventually saw a sloppy punch, grabbed her arm and put her in a wrist lock effectively snapping her arm, this time she we stayed down. Peter of course came by and high fived you.

You finally saw Kurt and the person he was fighting against seemed to be growing more and more irritated with Kurt and how he couldn't hit him. You didn't like how this man (who's mutation seemed to be super strength) was getting more and more irritated with Kurt. Since he couldn't physically hit him he was getting angrier and taking out by emotionally hurting him. He hit Kurt closed to home by calling him a freak and you were ready to unleash hell. You felt like a highlighter with how brightly yellow you were glowing as you snuck into his mind and fed him visions of pain. Visions of him flying through the air and getting hit by debris plagued his mind as you unleashed your anger on him for daring to insult Kurt. You were so overcome by anger you didn't realise how Eric was getting annoyed with you incapacitating his mutant followers and he hurled metal at you. He want hoping to kill you only injur you enough to knock you out of the fight, Eric wasn't one for killing his mutant brothers and sisters. Kurt was watching you in awe feeling so loved at how protective you were of him when he quickly caught on to the shard of metal aimed to imbed in your legs. He quickly grabbed you and you heard the signature *BAMF* and you fell out of the brutes mind since you were on the other side of the chaos and too far away to slip back in. You looked at Kurt and held him tight whispering a thank you in his ear. He held you tightly to him and mumbled out "liebe you made me a promise to not get hurt, I will be very unhappy if zhat promise iz broken"

"You come before anything, even promises I made to you, but I assure you miene liebe I am perfectly fine" you reassured him pulling back from his chest to smile at him. "And as much as I love being here in your arms we have a job to finish" you kissed him on the cheek and gave him a wild grin he smiled back and *BAMFED* you to the other X-men who had regrouped in front of Eric and his group in the classic sign of unity within the two groups before an awesome battle scene breaks out. Eric lifted himself up along with more shards of metal.

"Time after time, Charles have I bent to your rules and wishes, I am tiered of never having change, of being taken advantage of. They underestimate and underappreciated us Charles and the only way for them to learn is to show them, the only way left is that hard way"

"Eric the more you revert back to anger and desperation for revenge the less they trust us and the harder we must work to show we mean no harm and we can all live together peacefully. We need an ear of peace now then ever, and peaceful wishes from you may be just the thing we need to make our coexistent wishes a reality."

"Your aspirations will never be a reality Charles, they will only ever be wishes, and if I have to show you the hard way as well then so be it." As Eric raised more metal to girl at you all, you developed a potentially dumb plan or potentially great plan.

You worked to invade Eric's head, and despite his helmet preventing telepaths from getting in his head, you weren't a telepath and made it in with as expected quite the amount of resistance. You knew of Eric's past and you knew exactly what memories to use, however, you would have to be careful, after using so much energy especially on that brute you were getting a little to tired for the stunt you were trying to pull. You found the memory of Eric at the camp and losing his mother. You could feel his grief and it only made it harder to consentrate. Your breathing was definetly laboured by know as you pushed that memory to the front of his brain and had him relive it. Watching it horrified you and you could feel tears of exhaustion and pity leak down your face as you trembled with both exhaustion and the pain this memory was bringing, both emotional and physically demanding. You could feel his resistance weakening but his helmet only attempted to push you out more. Your legs you were sure were on the verge of giving out. You could hear Charles telling everyone to stand back, with a protest from a familiar German accent, that crowding you and touching you to keep you from collapsing would only distract you. The memory got to the part were his mother was killed and his powers started to surge. You could definetly feel his power surging now, Eric felt as if he was back there and this time he was determined to save his mom. You knew that you only had to keep the memory going a little while longer and let him build his power up so the sudden surge would use enough energy to knock him out. As the memory progressed and Eric's power grew. You all of a sudden felt his power reach the point to knock him unconscious, and it just so happened to take you too.

Kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt kurt

You woke up to three fingers strumming through your hair and the sound of the jet. You looked up and saw Kurt's face light up at the sight of you awake. "Liebe" he grinned pulling you up gently and resting your head on his shoulder as he pulled you close to him and you wrapped your arms around him.

"What happened?" Was the obvious question on your mind.

"Well" Charles began from behind you " you prevented Eric from showering us with metal debris, you invaded his mind and successfully knocked him out. However, you over exerted yourself and past out along with him. With Eric down Mystique and the others tried to flee, however, but with much assistance through Peter, we managed to keep them from leaving fast enough to esacpe custody. We are almost home, where you can all take a well deserved rest and have the next few days off of classes to recouperate. How does that sound!"

Scott and Peter let out whoops of joy while Jean grinned and you and Kurt gave each other gentel smiles. "Get some rest miene liebe, you deserve it" Kurt said smiling down at you. You snuggled into his shoulder and managed to get a quick nap in.

You managed to wake up just in time for landing. You got many praises for the stunt you had pulled when you came back to the academy. Eventually Kurt got tired of people keeping you away from the rest you so clearly needed, so when people weren't looking he *BAMFED* you two to his room. Too exhausted to get your clothes from your room you slipped on one of Kurt's tshirts and snuggled up next to him.

"I'm so proud of you liebe" he cooed quietly in your ear. "I can't thank you enough for loving me so much and protecting me so vell even vhen you do put your selv in unnecessary danger "Kurt said a goofy smile covering his face and love filled in his eyes.

"Well I can't promise never to be in danger, but I can promise to never stop loving or protecting you." That night you got the best sleep ever as you drifted off to the love of your life planting butterfly kisses all over your face knowing the next few days off would be spent in bed with the love of your life!

Hope y'all enjoyed!

@selemercy(I hope you don't mind that I tagged you it's just that you encouraged me to write this fic and your comment ment so much to me!)