#reader being in denial

[agirlnamedelia]

Unwanted Quirk Exchange - Part 2

The next day dawned far too early for your liking. The events of the previous day were still fresh in your mind as you dragged yourself out of bed, feeling the weight of Bakugou’s quirk thrumming beneath your skin. It was as if your body was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at any moment if you weren’t careful.

The moment you stepped into the common area, you spotted Bakugou already up and dressed, his expression a mixture of irritation and exhaustion. His eyes flicked to you, and for a brief second, something like concern flashed across his face before it hardened into his usual scowl.

“Let’s get this over with,” he grumbled, not even bothering with a greeting.

You nodded, suppressing a sigh. “Good morning to you too, Bakugou.”

“Don’t start with me,” he snapped. “We’ve got work to do.”

The two of you made your way to the training grounds, where Aizawa was already waiting. He gave you both a brief nod, his eyes sharp as he assessed your condition.

“Today’s focus is control,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “You both need to understand the limits of the quirks you’ve inherited and how to push those limits without losing control.”

Bakugou let out a frustrated huff, crossing his arms. “This damn quirk doesn’t do anything unless someone’s hurt. How the hell am I supposed to train with that?”

Aizawa’s gaze didn’t waver. “Your task is to understand how the quirk functions, not just in combat but in a supportive role. Healing isn’t about destruction, it’s about precision. You’ll have to adjust.”

You watched Bakugou’s jaw tighten, but he nodded, albeit begrudgingly. You knew this was hard for him—he was used to relying on raw power, not finesse.

Aizawa turned to you next. “As for you, controlling Bakugou’s quirk requires not just physical strength, but mental focus. You need to understand the balance between releasing energy and holding back, or you’ll burn out.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. The explosive power inside you was wild and untamed, unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was as if the energy itself was alive, constantly demanding release.

“Understood,” you replied, trying to keep the nervousness out of your voice.

The training began in earnest, with Aizawa overseeing every move you made. Bakugou was tasked with practicing precision healing on small injuries—cuts and scrapes that Recovery Girl had created for the exercise. At first, he struggled, his hands trembling slightly as he tried to channel the healing energy. It was obvious that he found the process frustratingly slow compared to the immediate impact of his explosions.

You, on the other hand, were put through a series of exercises designed to help you control the volatile energy inside you. Aizawa instructed you to create small, controlled explosions, emphasizing the need to keep them contained and focused. It was easier said than done—every time you felt the power surge through your body, it took every ounce of concentration to prevent it from spiraling out of control.

Hours passed, and with each failed attempt, the frustration between you and Bakugou grew. He was used to being the best, the strongest, and now he was stuck with a quirk that required patience and care—qualities he wasn’t exactly known for.

As the afternoon wore on, Aizawa decided it was time for a break. He left you and Bakugou alone to cool off, but the tension between you was palpable.

“This is bullshit,” Bakugou muttered, pacing back and forth. “I’m a damn combat hero, not some—some healer!”

“You think this is easy for me?” you shot back, feeling your own frustration bubbling up. “Your quirk is like trying to hold back a storm! Every time I try to control it, it’s like it’s fighting me!”

Bakugou stopped pacing, turning to face you. His expression was a mixture of anger and something else—something you couldn’t quite place. “So what, you want to switch back right now? Because believe me, I’d love that.”

“It’s not like we have a choice, Bakugou,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “We have to figure this out, or neither of us is going to be able to do our jobs.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unresolved tension. Then, Bakugou spoke, his voice quieter than before.

“I’m not used to relying on anyone else,” he admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground. “But this quirk... your quirk... it’s not something I can just power through.”

You were taken aback by his honesty. It was rare for Bakugou to admit any kind of weakness, let alone to you.

“I’m not used to this either,” you said, softening your tone. “But maybe... maybe we can help each other.”

Bakugou looked up at you, his eyes narrowing. “Help each other, huh?”

You nodded. “Yeah. We’re stuck with each other until we figure this out. So why not make the best of it?”

He didn’t respond right away, but after a moment, he let out a heavy sigh. “Fine. But don’t think I’m going to go easy on you.”

You couldn’t help but smile, despite the situation. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

The next few hours of training went a little smoother. With the tension between you somewhat diffused, you found that you were able to focus more on the task at hand. Bakugou, while still frustrated, seemed to be making progress with your quirk, his usual intensity tempered by a newfound determination to understand it.

And you, after several failed attempts, finally managed to create a controlled explosion that didn’t immediately backfire. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

As the day drew to a close, you both were exhausted, but there was a sense of accomplishment that hadn’t been there before. You were far from mastering each other’s quirks, but you were making progress, however slow it might be.

As you and Bakugou walked back to the dorms, the tension between you had shifted. It wasn’t gone, but it was different now—less about frustration and more about a shared understanding.

“Tomorrow’s going to be even harder, you know,” Bakugou said, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

You nodded, meeting his gaze. “I know. But we’ll get through it.”

For a moment, Bakugou didn’t respond. Then, with a slight smirk, he added, “You’re tougher than you look.”

You chuckled, feeling a strange sense of camaraderie forming between you. “And you’re not as scary as everyone thinks.”

“Don’t push it,” he warned, but there was no real bite to his words.

As you reached the dorms, you paused at the entrance, turning to face him. “Thanks, Bakugou. For, you know, not giving up on this.”

He looked at you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he simply nodded. “Yeah. Just don’t slow me down.”

...

The next morning, you woke up with a renewed sense of determination. Yesterday had been grueling, but it was only the beginning. You knew Bakugou wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge, and now, neither were you.

You made your way to the training grounds, expecting to see Bakugou already there. Sure enough, he was pacing back and forth, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He glanced up as you approached, his eyes narrowing.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled.

“Good morning to you too, Bakugou,” you replied, a hint of teasing in your voice.

“Tch, let’s just get this over with,” he muttered, but there was no real venom in his tone. If anything, he seemed almost... eager. “I’m not letting you slack off today.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” you said, rolling your shoulders to ease some of the tension. “So, what’s the plan?”

Bakugou crossed his arms, his brow furrowed as he thought. “We’re gonna push harder today. You need to get a better handle on my quirk, and I need to figure out how to make your damn healing work faster.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his determination. “Alright, then. Let’s do this.”

The training started off intense, with both of you pushing yourselves to the limit. You could tell Bakugou was holding back his usual criticism, focusing instead on guiding you through the intricacies of his quirk. He was surprisingly patient, correcting your form and offering tips on how to channel the explosive energy without losing control.

“Don’t think of it as a bomb going off,” he instructed, his voice surprisingly calm. “It’s more like... a controlled detonation. You control how much energy you let out and where it goes. Got it?”

You nodded, trying to focus on his words rather than the raw power surging through you. “Got it.”

After several attempts, you finally managed to create a small, controlled explosion without it blowing up in your face. The look of approval on Bakugou’s face was brief, but it was there.

“Not bad,” he admitted, crossing his arms. “Still a long way to go, though.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you replied, wiping sweat from your brow.

Bakugou grunted in response, then turned his attention to his own training. Watching him struggle with your quirk was a strange sight—it was so different from his usual explosive style. But he was persistent, refusing to give up even when the healing energy didn’t respond the way he wanted it to.

As the day went on, the two of you fell into a rhythm, working together to master each other’s quirks. There were moments of frustration, of course—Bakugou’s temper flared more than once, and you had to bite back your own irritation when things didn’t go as planned. But there were also moments of understanding, of silent communication as you both realized that this was about more than just training. It was about trust.

By the time the sun began to set, you were both exhausted, but there was a sense of accomplishment in the air. You had made progress—real progress—and it was something neither of you could deny.

As you sat down to catch your breath, Bakugou plopped down beside you, his usual scowl replaced by a more neutral expression.

“You’re not as useless as I thought,” he said, his voice low but not unkind.

You chuckled, leaning back on your hands. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Bakugou glanced at you, and for a moment, it seemed like he wanted to say something more. But instead, he just grunted and looked away.

The silence between you lingered, the air thick with unspoken words. You could sense Bakugou wrestling with something, his usual brashness replaced by a rare hesitation. It wasn’t like him to hold back, especially not when he had something to say. You waited, half-expecting him to snap out of it and bark another order, but instead, he remained quiet, staring off into the distance.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Bakugou, are you—”

“I’m not done with you yet,” he interrupted, his voice gruff. He turned to face you, the intensity in his eyes making it clear that whatever he was about to say, he meant it. “Don’t think just because you managed one good explosion, I’m gonna go easy on you.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his sudden shift back to his usual self. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He narrowed his eyes, clearly not appreciating your sarcasm. “Good. ‘Cause tomorrow, we’re stepping it up. You’re gonna control that quirk like it’s yours, got it?”

You nodded, your own determination mirroring his. “Got it. But what about you? How are you feeling with the healing quirk?”

Bakugou’s expression darkened, and he looked away, jaw clenched. “It’s... different,” he admitted, almost grudgingly. “But I’ll figure it out. Don’t need you worrying about me.”

“I’m not worrying,” you corrected, leaning forward slightly. “I just know it’s not easy, especially for someone like you. You’re used to power, to taking things head-on. Healing requires patience, a different kind of strength.”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed, though there was no real malice in it. “I don’t need a lecture. I just need to keep at it.”

You smiled softly, nodding in agreement. “You’re right. We’ll both keep at it.”

He met your gaze again, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual fire. “Don’t go thinking this changes anything. I’m still gonna be the one to master this first.”

You chuckled, standing up and stretching your arms. “We’ll see about that, Bakugou.”

He stood up as well, brushing dirt off his pants with a sharp motion. “You better be ready for tomorrow. I’m not holding back.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” you replied, your tone light but sincere.

Bakugou gave a curt nod, then started to walk away, his usual swagger back in full force. You watched him go, feeling a strange mixture of exhaustion and anticipation. This quirk exchange had been anything but easy, but you couldn’t deny that it had pushed you both in ways you hadn’t expected.

As you turned to head back to the dorms, you couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring. Whatever it was, you were ready for it.

The next morning, you arrived at the training grounds to find Bakugou already there, as usual. His expression was set in a determined scowl, but there was something different in the way he looked at you—an intensity that went beyond his usual competitive nature.

“You’re late,” he growled, though you could tell he wasn’t actually mad.

“Good morning to you too, Bakugou,” you replied, your tone casual.

He didn’t respond to the greeting, instead jumping straight into the day’s training. “We’re starting with controlled detonations again. But this time, I want you to focus on precision. No more big blasts—you’re gonna make it small and controlled.”

You nodded, taking in his instructions. “Got it. And you?”

“I’m working on boosting the speed of your quirk’s effects,” he said, his voice clipped. “We don’t have time to wait around for it to kick in. If I’m gonna use it in a fight, it needs to work fast.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for him. Even though he was clearly frustrated with the limitations of your quirk, he was still determined to make it work. It was that relentless drive that had made him one of the top students at U.A., and it was starting to rub off on you.

The training was intense, with both of you pushing yourselves to the limit. You could feel Bakugou’s eyes on you as you practiced, his gaze sharp and critical, but also... something else. Something softer, more concerned. It was subtle, but it was there.

At one point, after a particularly successful controlled detonation, you glanced over at him, expecting a harsh critique. Instead, he just nodded, his expression unreadable. “Not bad.”

You smiled, taking the rare praise in stride. “Thanks.”

Bakugou grunted in response, then went back to his own training. The rest of the session continued in much the same way, with both of you making steady progress. By the time the sun was high in the sky, you were both drenched in sweat, but the sense of accomplishment was palpable.

As you sat down for a break, Bakugou joined you, his usual scowl softened slightly by exhaustion. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared out at the horizon.

After a long moment, he finally spoke. “You’ve gotten better.”

You blinked, surprised by the admission. “So have you. Your control with the healing quirk is improving.”

“Still hate it,” he muttered, but there was no real heat in his voice.

You chuckled. “I figured as much. But you’re making it work.”

He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Don’t think this means I’m going soft. I’m still gonna crush you once we get our quirks back.”

You met his gaze, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Bakugou didn’t smile back, but there was a hint of something in his eyes—something that made your heart skip a beat. It was a look you’d never seen from him before, one that spoke of more than just rivalry or partnership. It was... something deeper.

Before you could dwell on it, he stood up abruptly, dusting off his pants. “Come on. We’ve still got work to do.”

You followed him back to the training area, trying to shake off the strange flutter in your chest. This was Bakugou, after all—intense, competitive, always ready to push himself and everyone around him to the limit. But as you watched him move with that raw, focused energy, you couldn’t help but notice something else.

He was... impressive. The way he approached everything with such determination, the sheer power he wielded even when limited by a quirk that wasn’t his own—it was hard not to be in awe of him. You’d always known Bakugou was talented, but seeing him adapt and overcome these challenges firsthand was something else entirely.

“Don’t just stand there,” he snapped, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Get ready.”

You nodded quickly, trying to focus on the task at hand. But as the training continued, you found yourself watching him more closely, admiring the way his muscles tensed with each movement, the sharp precision in his actions, the way his eyes never lost that fierce intensity. Even with your quirk, which required a completely different approach from his usual explosive style, he was relentless.

And then, there was the way he spoke—gruff and blunt, yes, but there was something in his voice that made you want to listen, to take his words to heart. He wasn’t just barking orders; he was guiding you, pushing you to be better, to master the power that he had spent years perfecting.

As you tried to channel the explosive energy into a controlled blast, you caught yourself staring at him again, noticing the way the sun highlighted the sharp lines of his face, the way sweat glistened on his skin, and the sheer confidence he exuded with every movement.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, mentally swatting the thought away. Nope, not going there. This was Bakugou—arrogant, hot-headed, and always in competition mode. You couldn’t afford to let yourself get distracted, especially not by... that.

But the more you tried to push the thought away, the more it lingered at the back of your mind. You couldn’t deny that, despite his rough edges, there was something undeniably attractive about him. It wasn’t just his looks—though they certainly didn’t hurt—it was the way he carried himself, the way he demanded excellence not just from himself but from everyone around him.

“Focus,” Bakugou’s voice cut through your thoughts, sharp and commanding. He was standing close, too close, and you realized with a start that you had been completely zoned out. “What the hell are you doing? We’re not here to daydream.”

“Sorry,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up as you forced yourself to focus. You took a deep breath, pushing all those distracting thoughts aside. “I’m ready.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not convinced. “Don’t let your mind wander. You need to stay sharp, or you’ll blow your damn face off.”

You nodded, trying to shake off the embarrassment. “I won’t. Let’s do this.”

Bakugou watched you for another moment, his gaze intense and scrutinizing. Finally, he stepped back, nodding slightly. “Good. Now, try it again. This time, don’t overthink it. Just let it flow.”

You took his advice to heart, focusing on the task at hand. But even as you concentrated on controlling the explosion, a small part of you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, admiring the way he effortlessly commanded the situation. It was maddening, really. How could someone so frustrating be so... captivating?

“Better,” he said after your next attempt, his voice still gruff but with a hint of approval. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

“Thanks,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. You were determined not to let him see how much he was affecting you.

But as the training continued, it became harder and harder to ignore the way your heart seemed to race whenever he was near, the way your thoughts kept drifting back to him despite your best efforts to stay focused.

By the time the session ended, you were physically exhausted and mentally drained. Bakugou was standing a few feet away, catching his breath, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his chest heaved with each inhale, the slight sheen of sweat on his skin, the fierce determination in his eyes.

And in that moment, as you watched him, you couldn’t deny it any longer: Bakugou Katsuki was attractive, and the thought was impossible to shake.

You quickly turned away, trying to suppress the feeling bubbling up inside you. This was Bakugou—your training partner, your rival, your... well, whatever he was. You couldn’t let yourself get distracted by something as ridiculous as a crush.

But as you walked back to the dorms together, exchanging the occasional word, you knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. Not when he was right there, with that intense gaze and that unwavering confidence, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

And as much as you tried to push the thought away, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you let it stay.

[specialgradefckr]

it's been a long day for you, nerd gojo's personal bully.

shoving gojo into a locker. him getting a boner because he's a freak. locking him in there and having to pull him out.

by the time you arrive at your part-time job, you're already ready for the shift to be over. scan some items, restock some stuff, sweep and clean and clock right out.

unfortunately, today, you have a visitor.

a familiar voice saying your name. which you still haven't told him he could use.

you try not to make eye contact. it's so uncomfortable, so cringey.

why did a rich kid like him even go to shitty convenience stores like this? was his private chef taking a 15 minute break?

you feel heat rising in your cheeks. desperately you wish for him to just leave, to not talk at all, but even if he did he'd probably talk to you at school about it -

"earth to - AHEM! hello! it's nice to see you, i didn't know you worked here!" gojo chirps, lounging in front of your cash register.

he's dumped a giant pile of treats on there. knowing him, he'd eat all of them, too.

you notice one of your favorites in the pile... now you're even more hungry. the last thing you ate was the lunch you normally steal from gojo, because he screwed up getting you a snack from a vending machine.

there's nothing at home, and you're saving money to go to college, you can't waste money on premade food.

he notices your scowl and giggles. not a chuckle, a giggle. god, he's so lame.

"what's wroooong?" gojo drawls, or tries to. but he's so lame he just looks stupid. then again, he always looks stupid.

leaning over the counter, he tries to lower his head enough to look up at your face as you scan the items. "heheh... you're mad 'cause you can't bully me?"

you're struck by the unpleasant sight of his stupid weird face staring up at you with his big weird eyes. his stupid sunglasses (it's night time. loser.) sliding down his nose.

it must show on your face. "come on! you gotta be nice to me! i'm a paying customer!"

gojo's face has always had this really punchable quality to it, one that made it hard to look away from. but he's never been quite as punchable as he is right now.

you feel your cheeks heat up. from the proximity, of course.

"your total is-" you begin very loudly, enough for him to jump back suddenly.

he twists his mouth, handing you his card, "come ooooon. you don't wanna talk? you're free right now!" he gestures to the completely empty store, "wanna come snack with me?"

you do, actually, but that would require spending time with his insufferable ass, and also agreeing with him.

"i'm on the clock, you moron," you snap, scanning his card and handing him his receipt, "get lost. and don't come here again."

you put his things in a bag and hand them to him. he sighs, pulling something out - coincidentally, the treat you'd been eyeing earlier.

"come on, really?" he whines, like the whiner he is. you don't respond.

he takes a long moment biting into it. making eye contact with you.

(well, he's trying to. you aren't willing to torment yourself with the sight of his ugly mug any longer.)

he starts sort of. side-stepping his way out, in the lamest way possible, shuffling so he can keep looking at you until he's at the door.

freak.

when he's at the door, he sighs as if greatly put upon. "see you tomorrow!" he calls out, which you ignore, "same place, same time~"

you ignore this too. right up until you see him discard his half-eaten treat straight into the garbage while he pushes the door open to exit.

and, well. maybe it's because you're hungry. maybe it's because he says he'll come again.

maybe it's just your natural killer instincts as a bully.

you dart past the counter, snatching satoru by the arm and yanking him back into the store. right next to the trash can.

"whoa, whOA, what - "

"pick it back up."

gojo blinks his big blue dumb eyes at you. "what?"

"you didn't finish eating it," you shove him so he's leaning over the trash can, "pick it up."

"you can't be seri-"

you shove his head straight into the trash can, and gojo yelps, muffled.

"hey! hey! let me out, let me out, i'll get it-"

you hold his head down as he struggles against you (weakly, like the lanky nerd loser he is), until his crying starts to grate on your nerves.

"pick it up with your mouth."

"what?" he's still muffled, "with my mouth? that's so gross-"

"do it, nerd," you seethe, shoving his face further into the trash until you hear a crushing sound.

"okay okay! let me up a little, i'll do it, i'll do it!"

you barely hear him through the trash his face is now buried in. huh, you did need to empty the trash can soon. you'll have him do that next.

so much for being nice to your customer.

...no one will check the security cameras, right?

giving gojo just barely enough room to move around, you wait a moment until he starts to grunt and pull his head back up.

when you let him go, he's got the half-eaten snack in his mouth, like a dog with a treat.

he is kind of like a dog, isn't he?

gojo quickly takes it out of his mouth to complain, but you shove it right back in.

"finish it." you glower.

he doesn't argue with you anymore, quietly eating while his face is red and sticky. he sniffles a little, like a pathetic puppy digging for sympathy.

"what's the big deal," he mutters, "it's just cheap junk food."

you can almost feel your stomach growling. you try to pretend you don't hear-

"oh, are you hungry?" gojo brightens noticeably, "we can go out, my treat-"

the fury of a thousand suns rains upon him in the form of your glare. "finish it."

he swallows. quickly eats the rest of the treat. "there! do you wanna-"

"and take the trash out," you say, striding back to the desk, looking for the trash bags.

"what? isn't that your job?" gojo whines as he obediently pulls the bag out.

for once in his worthless existence, he is correct, but this is immaterial, because he is also stupid, and annoying, and the least he can do is make up for it by taking this task off your hands.

"do. it." gojo rushes out with the trash. he's back in just a few seconds.

by then you've put the new bag in, and you put a hand on his chest as he tries to enter through the door.

"okay, good enough. get lost, nerd."

gojo's face reddens, his eyes flicking down to your hand on his chest, and then your eyes.

what's up with him? his shoulders shift and for a moment you feel his chest flex, like there's any muscle on his scrawny -

shoving him back, you turn straight around, darting right to the counter and quickly grabbing some random items from underneath the front desk to stock.

you don't look up from under the table until you hear the door close.

...

...

...ugh. it's warm in here.

"i'm telling you. suguru, it's SUPER EFFECTIVE!" "dude, there's no way this lame ass flexing impressed her." "what do you mean lame? not every girl likes muscles that are huge, suguru! they're noticeable, but not overt. very mindful, very demure." "this is why she bullies you, satoru." "i'm lean. elegant. gracefu- WHOA!" "heh. graceful, right?" "you literally tripped me! anyways. she was blushing! it was the cutest thing ever! she put her hand on my chest-" "willingly? i doubt it." "she DID! and then i flexed for her and she turned around immediately-" "now that i believe." "but before she did, i swear i saw her blush! i'm getting through to her, suguru! our relationship is getting closer by the day!" "ugh... you could start a cult with this level of delusion." "oh my god, should i? i could dedicate it entirely to her! do you think she'd be into that? i think she would, but she's too tsundere to admit it, hehe... i could build a shrine." (suguru is starting to think satoru is not the victim in this relationship.)

[lamnwar]

daiki who's frustrated by reader not getting a hint and telling everyone that ask about them that it's "platonic" and that he doesn't want them like that, which is utter bullshit and daiki is sick and tired of repeating himself

it's almost as if you do it on purpose and honestly, if you don't want him, you should reject him already! because it's clearly not platonic when he drinks in your glass and eats in your plate, and it's not platonic when he puts sunscreen on your back when you go to the beach together, or when he falls asleep on your lap during your weekly movie night

and it's definitely not platonic when he's just drunk enough to whisper in your ear that he wants you so fucking bad that it physically hurts and that he will wait for you if you ever stop lying to yourself and to everyone else

because, deep down, you damn know that there's nothing platonic with how much he occupies your mind and makes your heart race

[yandere--stuck]

Thinking about Yandere!Ratchet from Safety Hazard being on Synthetic Energon and being much more forward with his human. He’s definitely gonna be embarrassed by the way he was with them when he’s off of it lmao

“You're such a tease, you know that?” Ratchet hissed.

You blinked, not quite believing your ears. You turned about, furrowing your brows as you shot a look up to Ratchet at his station by the main computer screens. The green of his optics shone on you like spotlights, glowing brightly as he glowered down at you.

“Excuse me?” You asked, incredulous.

“You think I don't know what you're trying to do,” he sneered. “Showing up here, showing off your flesh, teasing me…”

“Ratchet, I'm not dressing any differently from what I usually wear!”

The medic growled, frustrated. “Then, it's not the clothes. It's just you. Something wrong with you that makes you beg for my attention.”

He took a sudden step toward you, the floor of the base shaking for a moment. You backed up, a sudden, cold wave of fear washing over you.

“Ratchet, stop,” You said, voice wary. “You're not making sense and you're scaring me.”

A smirk carved its way onto Ratchet’s face as he continued his slow advance on you.

“What doesn't make sense is what you do to me,” Ratchet purred, “I should be disgusted by the sight of your skin, but instead, I have the urge to reach out and-”

Large, stubby digits reached out to grab at you. You tried to sprint past his servo, but he was far too fast, scooping your small form into his servo and holding you tight in his grip. An involuntary shout escaped you, and your stomach dropped as Ratchet lifted you into the air. You were face-to-face with the Medic as he laughed, watching as you attempted to squirm and kick yourself free.

“Gotcha,” He grinned, green eyes shining with something that looked like hunger.

“Ratchet, p- please,” You gasped out, barely able to breathe. “It's the Synth-En! This isn't you.”

He didn't dignify your words with a response. He only continued to grin and hold you with his gaze.

Blood pounded in your ears to the beat of your rabbiting heart. As much as you tried to calm yourself and slow your breathing, you couldn't bring yourself under control. Terror shot through your nerves, your entire body taut like the string of a bow, bracing for Ratchet to crush you under his thumb.

But, he didn't. For too long a moment, he simply looked at you. Drank in the expression of fear on your face, how he had you right where he wanted you, like an organic prey animal in a trap. And, hey, that's basically what you were, right?

And then, the thumb of the servo holding you moved. An involuntary gasp bubbled up from your throat, sounding as desperate and breathless as a final breath. But, not to crush you. It brushed against your cheek, so decisive and purposeful. So gentle and just as potentially deadly.

You met his eyes.

“... You're my human. You know that, right?” He asked.

Your brows furrowed. What the Hell was he talking about? You opened your mouth to argue- but, as if reading your mind, Ratchet tightened his hold on you, silencing you.

“Don't lie to me, or I'll squeeze.”

Your breathing was shallow as you trembled in Ratchet's hold. His stubby digits curled tighter around you. You felt the pressure squeezing against your organs. The air was forced out of you, left coughing and unable to inhale. He simply watched as you spasmed and fought to be able to breathe.

And then he relaxed his hold. You quickly inhaled and exhaled, desperate to get air back into your burning lungs. Your body weak, all you could do was allow yourself to be held up by Ratchet as you recovered in his grip, panting like a dog.

“Now, what do we say?” Ratchet teased.

“I'm yours,” You relented. “I'm yours.”

“Now that's a good human.” Ratchet praised, expression just a touch softer. “And I trust the others won't be hearing about this when they get back. Right?"

[seoulmatez]

“these are for you, lesser lord kusanali!” you kneel down to gift the archon the flower arrangement you made for her the night before. “thank you so much for coming to see the performance.”

the imposing presence beside her doesn’t go unnoticed.

“i brought you some, too.” your smile doesn’t falter when you turn to face the wanderer, slowly standing up and holding out the second bouquet you had put together in anticipation of today.

his fingers twitch at his side. you brought something… just for him? his lips curl downward as he tries to imagine just why you’d go and do something like that. perhaps it’s a mocking gesture, a show of pity, something of the sort. but the smile you’re wearing makes the answer clear—it’s the same reason you gifted them to nahida, because you’re simply happy to have seen him.

he takes the flowers from your hold, rotating the collection bound by a pink ribbon in his hand. soon, violet eyes like the night sky are staring deeply into yours. “i have no use for these.”

the words scratch at your heart like a cat’s claw—quick and painful, but you try to ignore the way it stings.

“oh, well, you don’t have to keep them.”

you reach out to take the flowers back but the gloved hand tightens around the bunch of stems, and you’re almost certain that the wanderer pulls the bouquet closer to his chest. “it’s rude to ask for gifts back, is it not?”

“i suppose you’re right.” the scratch he left behind on your heart is quickly bandaged, the lingering sting disappearing like it was never there to begin with. you can’t help but smile, let hope sprout in your heart at the thought that maybe you’re making your way into his. “in that case, i hope you find some use for them.”

[m3lodyxo]

Alright before I go and start my essay I need to get this off my mind.

Mizu and Archer!reader where they're staying in an inn or brothel and they both sense someone coming to attack them but before Mizu can draw her blade and go for the kill reader leaps at her, pinning her down to the floor, straddling her lap and whispering "Don't, I think they carry guns." but before she can argue back and object, saying she's perfectly capable of dealing with it reader draws her bow and arrow, fully concentrated, ignoring her and STILL STRADDLING HER.

Mizu just gawking at her, eyes wide, mouth slightly open in shock. Girl doesn't even know if she should be insulted or thankful you're thinking about her safety. She definitely feels her stomach doing a flip. Her hands instinctively placed on reader’s hips.

Poor woman is loosing her marbles. Reader releases the arrow and a grunt is heard, followed by a body falling to the floor a few seconds later.

When they go to inspect the body she's just starring in shock because how the fuck did you manage to strike a fatal blow like then when you couldn't even see through the screen? Mizu is well aware of your talent in archery but goddamn woman, what kind of sorcery is this? She's impressed and maybe slightly aroused.

Yeah.... I think I need professional help.

[skippingstonez]

Hello and welcome, it's so exciting to see a new LU x reader blog. If you're ready, I have a request for our favorite gremlin Legend.

While the others are teasing Legend for his newly pink hair after the bunny transformation, Reader (who Legend has a crush on) tells him they actually really like it and they think he looks cute. Cue even more teasing from the others (who know about his crush) and maybe some not-so-subtle pushing for him to confess

I love the idea of the rest of the Chain finding out one of them has a crush and just being such little shits about it

(I was going for something soft and fluffy since you don't have a full rules list posted yet, but if anything about it makes you uncomfy, thats totally fine! Take care of yourself!)

I feel like this one took a long time cause I had to write it like 5 different times since Sky kept being too much of an ass. Anyways, I figured it went perfectly with our already recently turned bunny boy <3

Bunny Bonding

(Legend x hare!Reader) Previous / Chapter 3 / Next? Warnings: get ready to deal with Legend still being in total denial. Its his favorite thing to do

A man, a hero nonetheless, can only be called ‘pinky’ so many times before he snaps.

Legend clenched his jaw, fists tight against the strap of his sword as he tried to resist the urge to light the camp on fire. Between the constant jabs at his hair, it seems Sky and Twilight were determined to use as many bunny related references and jokes they could think of without the others catching on.

“You okay there Ledge?” Sky mockingly asked. “Head feeling a bit fuzzy?” Twilight nearly started howling as Legend glared at them. Planning out the perfect way to get away with murdering them both without Time finding out.

“Oh would the two of you knock it off already?” 

Legend looked up right as you began making your way over to him with a plate of food in each hand. You hand one over, sitting down beside him.

“Ignore them, they're just trying to crawl under your skin.”

“Uhh, excuse me I think you mean burrow” Sky laughed so hard he nearly choked on his food. Twilight and Wild joining in.

“I hope you all know you sound like a slaughtered pig.” You retort.

“At least their hair doesn't look like one.” Winds voice shouts out.

Everyone erupts into laughter, save you and Legend who is now burying his face into his knees. You rub your forehead, totally, and completely done with the lot of them as you part Legends back sympathetically.

You sat with him for a while, letting the others break off into other conversations until the focus is no longer on the hero sat beside you. The sun finally falling just beyond the trees to cast a golden glow through the leaves as some began to clean up.

“Hey Ledge?” 

He looked over to you, waiting for you to continue.

“I know you don't really like it but for the record?” Your hand came up to brush through his hair gently. “I prefer it this way.”

Legend was so still he wondered if he had activated his bracelet by accident. You tilted your head, the admiration in your eyes so startling that Legend sucked in a short breath. Your hand slowly grazed down the side of his face, sending a sharp shiver straight to his core. His hand slowly moved to hold yours, still pressed against his face.

“Really?”

You nodded, thumb brushing against his cheek. “It suits you.”

Legend struggled to process your words. No one had ever complimented his hair before, let alone the rather unnatural color he had been trying to hide since a child.

A high-pitched, drawn out whistle rang out and you ripped your hand away. Heads snapping to where Wars, Wild and Time were staring right at the both of you. 

“Oh don’t mind us,” Wars said casually, “Didn’t mean to interrupt your little moment.”

You rolled your eyes, getting to your feet with a small glance back to Legend. Your lips curved in the smallest smile that made Legend feel like it was made just for him. He wanted all your smiles to be that way. For him to be the reason behind each and every one.

“I'm gonna go wash up, Wild watch my stuff would ya?” The champion nodded as you walked off, flicking Wars on the forehead as you went. Legend slouched back against the tree behind him, not taking his eyes off you until you had completely disappeared from view. Even then he stared at the spot for what felt like minutes, searching for any hint of your return.

“Well?” Time asked, looking at Legend expectantly. “Are you gonna go after her or not?”

Legend glared, “ What kind of question is that!? No im not gonna follow her! I'm not a creep!”

“For the love of Hylia Vet!” Wars groaned, tossing his head back to exaggerate his point. “Please put an end to this train wreck that is watching the two of you flirt around each other!”

Legend's shoulders shot up towards his ears. “We are not!”

“So just now when you nearly kissed her? That wasn’t flirting?” Time challenged and Legend mentally cringed. There was no way he was having this conversation right now. Especially not with these three.

“You need to get your eyes checked, Old Man because that's not what was happening.”

“Oh? And what about the other day when you two were literally all over each other?” Wild added, holding up his Sheikah slate as if it was all the proof he needed. 

That. Fucking. Traitor.

Even if he did have proof, he wouldn't dare show it in front of the others would he? Would he!?

“What? You've been holding out on us!?” Wars said, grabbing for the slate just barely out of his reach.

“That was different and you know it!!” 

“Collector, all we are trying to say is that we think the two of you should be honest. With yourselves, and with each other.” Time advised.

“Otherwise we're locking ya in a room together until you are.” Wars added, avoiding the smack to the head from Time. 

____________

Legend laid on his back, staring up at the night sky, trying to find something to distract himself from his thoughts. He turned to the right, being met with only Hyrule’s back before tossing onto his other side. 

He thought through his inventory, mentally trying to keep track of anything he would need to restock next time they stopped near a town. Maybe he could convince Time to let them stay at an actual Inn while they were at it, even if it meant sharing beds to save on money. He wondered if he could ask to share with you. Wars did say he would lock them- 

He sat up, rubbing at his face to clear his brain for the thousandth time. His eyes grazed over the rest of the sleeping bodies scattered around the clearing. Wind was the only one who slept mostly on his own. Likely because he sometimes slept like a starfish and no one wanted a smack in the face in the middle of the night. Sky seemed to have pulled Four and Warriors into a cuddle pile. One that you seemed to narrowly miss from where you were asleep just beyond Warriors. Twilight was tucked under Time’s arm across the way, the two of them a bit closer to the fire having fallen asleep there by accident. Legend could only imagine the neck pain they would have tomorrow. 

He quickly looked around, noticing Wild, who was on watch currently, distinctly absent. Which either meant he was scouting around or knowing him, was up in a tree somewhere. Legend scanned over everyone again, making sure everyone was truly asleep before bringing his attention back to you. 

You were laying on your side, curled up under your blanket comfortably. Your hair was messily tossed around you. Legend chuckled at the thought of you pouting with Wild as you tried to untangle it in the morning. He propped his head up on his hand, eyes lazily trailing over the soft features of your face before focusing in on your lips. The way they occasionally twitched upward as if thinking of him something pleasant. A shadow of how they were earlier when you looked at him. He wondered what they would feel like pressed against his own-

He fell back onto the ground with a huff, gripping tightly onto his hair. The same hair your hand had touched. He forced himself to think about anything else besides the events of the past few days. Settling to count through his rings, which items he should switch out if given the chance and definitely not about ways to get you to smile again. 

______________

Legend dodged out of the way, a sword striking the ground where he just was. He gripped his sword, turning to run it through the midsection of the bokoblin. Blood splattered his hand as he pulled back, spinning to strike at another creeping up behind him.

An arrow flew by, barely grazing his biceps before a cry rang out behind him. He whipped around, taking in the large Moblin that you and Sky had been working to take down. The way your sword dropped to the ground as you gripped for the arrow now lodged into your arm. Sky rushed towards you only to get sent flying when the Moblin’s club slammed into his gut.

“(Y/N)!” He gave a blow to the other bokoblin before sprinting across the field towards you. The Moblin looming over you as you tried to scramble away, eyes wide as it raised its club. He shot as much of his magic as possible into his boots, begging to go faster, to reach you in time!

It was Twilight who got to you first, blocking the club as it swung down on you. Legend ducked, slashing at the thing's legs aggressively as he passed by, placing himself directly between you and the creature. Legend reached for his bow, aiming right for its eyes as Twilight darted forward. He spares a quick glance at you still on the ground. Why weren't you getting up? Had you gotten hit and he hadn't even realized it?

He narrowed his eyes, sending an arrow straight into one of its eyes. It stumbled back, giving Twilight an opening to reach up and jab his sword right into its neck. It roared as it crumbled to the ground in a large heap. Legend quickly assessed for any more enemies, seeing none as Wars jogged over to them, quickly kneeling in front of you. 

“This is gonna sting” he barely warned before pulling the arrow out. You bit back a cry and Legend gritted his teeth at the sound.

Wars wrapped it quickly, giving you a sip of a red potion. “You okay?”

You nodded, eyes trained on the ground. Legend took in the way your hands trembled in your lap. You got up, arms wrapping around yourself as you continued to stare at the ground. “I..i need a sec.”

You quickly walked off and Legend had to force his legs to not run after you. He looked back to where Twilight was helping Sky off the ground.

“Did something happen during that fight?” Legend immediately asked. You weren't one to freeze in the middle of a fight nor seem so shaken up afterwards.

Sky just shook his head. “No, everything was going well until the arrow.” He explained dusting himself off.

Legend looked back to where you had gone off, taking a small step in the direction as Wars walked past.

“I'm gonna go check on her.” He said, walking after you. Legend's stomach twisted in disappointment.

The rest of them sat around, cleaning off weapons while they waited for the two to come back. Each minute that went by made Legend’s anxiety only grow. Constantly checking to see if you had come back.

“Stop frettin Ledge, I'm sure your kit will be back any sec.” Twilight reassured him, a small chuckle in his voice.

Legend glared at him, Sky looking between them with wide eyes and a matching smile.

“No way!” Sky shouted in excitement. “Oh my gosh she's a-”

“Don't. You. Dare finish that sentence.” Legend snarled.

“Oooh my gosh that's perfect! Hylia, how did I not see that? It's so obvious!” Sky laughed and Legend’s vision was turning red. It was one thing to let them make fun of him but if they thought for a millisecond that he would let them tease you about it they were sorely mistaken.

“Calm down Vet, goodness for someone who insists that there ain't anything going on between the two of ya, you sure are protective.”

“Are you serious!?” Sky shouted again and Legend was about to chuck his sword at him. “Dang it, I owe Four 30 rupees.”

“For what!?”

“Well the two of you have been so close recently I thought you finally said something and got together!” Twilight burst out laughing while Legend just stared at Sky.

“You deserve to lose them then cause there isnt anything going on!” Legend crossed his arms. Ignoring the heat rising to his face.

“He's kidding right? Twi please tell me he's joking.”

“‘fraid not bud.”

“Ledge, buddy. If her literally being a rabbit isn't enough of a sign for you, I'm afraid you're doomed.”

He was ready to tell Sky in great detail who exactly was going to be doomed when he heard footsteps approaching. He jumped to his feet, heart threatening to break through his ribs until he could see you. And when you finally came into view? 

It shattered.

Wars gently led you back, looking just as worried as when he left. Your arms were still wrapped tightly around yourself, the only difference being your eyes. They were red, the skin underneath wet and puffy as though you had been crying.

Legend bolted for you. Hands grabbing your face as he scanned for any signs of further injury.

“You okay bun?” 

Your eyes shot to the other 3 behind him before returning to the ground so quickly Legend almost missed it. 

“fine…” You weren't. Even if your voice wasn't shaking as much as your hands, or your eyes weren't threatening to spill more tears, Legend just knew you weren't okay. 

“Bullshit, what's wrong?” He whispered, his thumb running just underneath your eye to wipe away any potential tears.

“I…” another quick glance to the others before you grabbed his hands. Softly pulling them away with a deep breath. “I just got shaken up is all. I'm okay.”

Legend looked at the others out of the corner of his eyes. Whatever was wrong it was clear that it was either their fault or you were trying to hide it from them. Either way it made Legend want to rip their heads off.

“C’mon” he said, placing his hand on the small of your back. Purposely blocking your view of the 3 others wearing teasing grins on their faces. “We should get back to the others.” 

Everyone agreed, heading towards the predetermined meetup point. He kept close as you walked, hoping you'd open up and tell him what it was that was bothering you. You didn't, but by the time you got there you at least were generally back to normal. Smiling with Hyrule and Four, and helping Wild with the food.

Legend hung back, keeping a close eye on you. He may not know what it was that had caused your tears but he was determined to get to the bottom of whatever it was.

______ 

The opportunity arrived in the middle of the night. Not that Legend was capable of sleeping anyway. He waited until the start of the second watch which would conveniently be yours tonight. Sitting up on his bed roll to see you sat by the fire. The flames illuminated your silhouette, hands fiddling with your hair as you relaxed against the log.

With the others asleep, he stood up and made his way over to you.

“Want some company?”

You spun, face immediately lifting as you spotted him. “Yours? Always.”

Goddess he would never understand how you could make his heart skip so easily. He sat beside you, draping an arm on the log behind you.

“So,” Legend whispers, getting straight to the point. “You wanna tell me what happened earlier?”

You hunch your shoulders, bringing your knees up to your chest. “If I say no?”

“Then I keep pestering you about it.” He teased, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. “Come on Bun, you had us worried back there.”

“I…I don't think I like being a bunny..or hare or whatever..”

From everything Legend had imagined could be wrong, that was surprisingly not something he thought about. It was a sentiment he knew well but why were you bringing this up now? 

The frown on your face tugged at his heart and he needed it gone as soon as possible. He poked at your head repeatedly

“The hell are you doing?” 

“Well obviously you gotta have some sort of disguise cause you look rather Hylian to me.”

You giggled, swatting at his hand playfully. “That's not what I meant!”

Legend held up his hands in mock defeat, giving you time to further explain.

“I just feel so on edge lately,” You explain, hands returning to the ends of your hair. “Like something in my brain is screaming at me to constantly runaway and I can't get it to stop.” 

You throw your head onto his shoulder, your face buried into his tunic. Legend wraps his arms over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. 

“Shit…I probably should've warned you about that. Instincts like that can be really strong, especially if you aren't used to it.”

“It's a thing?? I'm not crazy?” head whipping back up to look at him.

“Unfortunately, yeah. It's a thing, you can even ask Twi though he feels it a bit differently.”

“Oh…” Silence fell as you curled into Legend. Your head resting on his shoulder as his hand lazily played with a strand of your hair. His heart raced at the contact, praying you couldn't feel it pounding rapidly.

“Ledge?” Your voice was barely even a whisper. Hand reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “How do you get it to stop?”

Legend sighed, nudging you to sit up. You did, eyeing him curiously as he turned you away from him. He ran his fingers through your hair, grabbing it in sections.

“It doesn't. But it gets easier to ignore after a while.”

“Well how did you do it?”

“Is it dumb to just say practice?” His fingers weaving the sections of hair together.

“Yes”

“Well too bad, you're stuck with the dumb answer.” Legend chuckled, heart soaring at the sound of your giggle. He crossed over another section of your hair until all of it was in a single braid.

You pulled it forward, admiring his work with the same gleam in your eyes as the day before.

“I didn't know you knew how to braid” 

Legend shrugged, leaning back against the log. “What can I say? I'm a man of many talents.”

“Well I will be putting this one to use! Its better than Wild’s.”

Legend laughed. He couldn't help but smile at the way you smiled up at him. He reached out, brushing a knuckle over your cheek.

“Anytime (Y/N).”

You held his gaze, leaning into his hand that now cupped your face. Your eyes flicked down to his lips and Legend slowly leaned forward, pressing his mouth against yours.

The kiss was soft, intoxicating and everything he dreamed it would be.

He captured your bottom lip, pulling on it ever so slightly before he pulled away. Breaths heavy between the two of you as he ran his thumb over your cheek.

“So I guess Four is out 30 rupees now?”

“You heard that huh?” He laughed, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah, and I'll admit, I was really hoping Sky would win that one.” 

Legend pulled back, pulling you into his side with his arm wrapped tightly around you.

“Me too Bun."

[duskier]

Cannot stop thinking abt ghost and his breeder balls and it’s your fault (said w love 💕)

Literally thinking about denying Ghost an orgasm for so long just because he's so strong and domineering but he's sooo much more obedient, you wanna see how long he will choose to be good and listen to you when you tell him he can't cum! He ends up with a painful erection and heavy balls every day over and over because he's so good for you and you are so mean :((

When he's fucking you, sure he could ignore your commands for him to stop, keep snapping his hips up into you the way you like until he's finally got the release he's craving... but he won't. Ghost is built for breeding- from his fat cock to his big barrell shaped body. He watches how your eyes sparkle with mischief with your order, his body going entirely rigid mid-thrust.

"I'm done," you say. "That's all, go clean yourself up, Si."

It's torture, and he has to clench his teeth to hold back a genuine sob of frustration as he pulls out of you. Another night of having to wait for his sensitive cock to go soft before he can even pull his boxers back on. (He loves you wielding the control over him that he's freely given you- despite his desire to cum, the feeling of coming down with his head in your lap makes it all better... until the next night. You keep him in denial until a small breeze threatens to finish him off- then you finally let him cum like he's made for.)

[sinfully02slow]

Out of my element here but

Appreciation post for those orv fans that dissect the story, analyze scenes, share their theories and perspectives here on Tumblr

It’s really cool to see how orv looks from your guys’s perspectives and realizing what some scenes meant

Heck, I believed Kdj’s narrative during the webnovel until the fandom woke me up and handed me depression word soup :)

Personally I can’t really put into words what I think and feel- being able to come across posts where it’s put into words just makes my day

Seeing the orv fandom share endless commentaries of the story, their reactions, alternate universe takes, theories and fanart- it all makes it feel like orv never really ended

But yeah, thank you

(Sorry if the post looked long, I didn’t like how the sentences touched, it looked too squished)

[morgaseus]

Sunday has you wrapped around his finger.

You love the man too much to even second guess him. Yet it is not him that you swore your oath to but to the family and the harmony. To harbor something other than disgust to a traitor, a follower of the Order at that, is tantamount to a sin, borderline blasphemous. He's always been virtuous, dedicated in upholding his duties for the family and the whole of penacony. You feel a dull aching emanating from the cavity of your chest; You'd never guessed he was the traitor all along. 

When you caught him in the middle of escaping from his cell, along with the wine purple haired woman- Kafka, a stellaron hunter, you surmised, you've seen her posters plastered in walls enough for you to recognize her anywhere. They’re recruiting him, you think. They're taking him away. Your mind tells you to uphold your duties as a member of the family. He’s a traitor to the family- to the harmony. He tried to usurped Lord Xipe! Your heart (aches to see him go, to leave you) tells you to let him go. To let him live, to experience everything for himself. 

You've always been the family's dog, always following their orders as if you were merely born for them and not for yourself. But this time, you decided to choose for yourself.

You let the halovian go. You clenched your hand, crescent shapes left at its wake. You don’t want him to leave, you never want him to leave because that would mean you would no longer see him. But if he were to stay here.. If he were to stay here, the family will capture him, hand him over to the IPC for trial (he will most likely be found guilty), imprison him until he rots in prison, until he serves his sentence. You don’t want that, you will never want that for him. Sunday has been nothing but kind to you. He treats you as if you were the most precious and fragile thing in the whole asdana system. He makes you feel, wanted, needed, loved. Even if you think his words were lies. So, you think, that is the best possible outcome.

He lived his whole life believing the sickly sweet poison instilled to him by the dreammaster (You’ve always thought there was something wrong with Mr. Gopher Wood). Nobody really sees how his left hand, that he always keeps at his back, would clench his right arm. Nobody sees how many nights he had to stay up, worrying, wondering, who could've killed his sister, why they killed her. Nobody- nobody sees his struggles. All they know is that he's sunday- the perfect, meticulous oak family leader. Sunday the traitor. Sunday the order’s remnant. He needs this. He needs another chance. So, you decided to let him go. Maybe then, he would learn to live for his sake. 

[robo-writing]

To all Logan enjoyers what’s something you wanna talk about/see written and you haven’t seen anyone mention it before

[loverslantern]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: More of Y/N's past is revealed. Dean is there to comfort her as he inquires about the parts she never shared. Warnings: Angst, talk of past abuse, child abuse, comfort, coping, understanding trauma, trauma, denial, no GIF sorry!

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn @crazyunsexycool @onlyangel-444 @seninjakitey @mystic-mara

Word Count: 1,974

Words mean more at night

(Masterlist, Prev Ch, Next Ch)

A back-and-forth motion rubs against my knee but my eyes are down at the carpeted floors. Someone got me to my motel room.

I blink, my eyes tracing the movement to a familiar veiny hand. He’s kneeled in front of me, patiently waiting for me. His motion on my knee doesn’t stop as he smiles at me sadly, “Hey,” he says.

“Hi,” I answer weakly, watching his face for any changes. Carefully he raises his free hand to my hand, giving me time to back away. He covers my clutched hand, I hadn’t realized I was forming tight fists. He gently pries my fingers open revealing little alcohol packets. That’s the light thing I was handed to clean off the specks of blood…blood from—

“Hey, you’re okay,” Dean says softly, pulling me back to the present. He takes the packets from my hands, opening one carefully but before he moves to do anything he asks, “Can I?”

I nod, not trusting my voice. I know I wasn’t supposed to allow him our small touches but that can all be screwed right now. I want a hug and I want to hide under the covers until it all passes, as childish as it sounds. “Words,” he reminds. He had his nailbed-biting habits I had the habit of shutting down and he knew that well enough to try and push me out of it, even if it meant just answering verbally. “Yes, please,” I say just barely above a whisper.

The motion on my knee stops and with that same hand, he reaches up slowly to cradle my head, pushing some of my hair back. He gets closer to my face and with the alcohol pad he lightly rubs off a spec on my cheek, his eyes focused there. I knew what he was thinking, I could see the thoughts and questions swirling in his eyes. “You can ask,” I say, it’s better to get it over now. He doesn’t say anything for a beat as he cleans a couple of spots on my face, “Not my place too,” he answers.

He lets go of me, pushing off the balls of his feet, and standing up, he collects the scraps and walks to the other side of my small motel room to discard them.

I want to sink into myself, “You’re upset with me,” I tell him, knowing I'm right by his body language and just overall behavior. Again he doesn’t answer but I can see the tension in his shoulders and I know he’s holding back. I kick off my shoes, scooting back on the bed until my back hits the headboard. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around me as he fidgets with something on the counter. 

He turns around swiftly but doesn’t move towards me, “Why didn–” he cuts himself off, running a hand down his face. “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

He shakes his head, “No, you got nothin’ to apologize for sweetheart I–”

“You can say it. Let’s just talk about this now, I don’t like it when you’re upset at me,” I admit though I’m sure he already knew. He sighs, looking away, “I’m not upset at you.”

“You aren’t?” I ask, surprised.

“No. I’m mad I didn’t know,” he steps closer until he reaches the bed, “I should’ve known.”

I pat the spot next to me, allowing him to get closer so we could sit comfortably like old times, “We were young,” I reasoned. He takes the spot next to me, the bed dipping as he does, “I have two years on you,” he counters. I roll my eyes, he always tries to play that card. “Well, I was very good at hiding it, had to be. Plus…you heard what I said about B/N.”

He groans, frustrated, his head leaning back on the headboard, “That doesn’t make me feel better. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped.”

“You had your own things to worry about. We didn’t see each other very often then either, we hung out more after he died and by then it was no longer an issue,” I explain. But he doesn’t respond. “I’m quite resilient you know. Not much can really kill me,” I add, trying to lighten the mood. His head snaps to me, “That doesn’t make it better. You were still…”

“It’s okay,” I say, focusing my eyes on the wall across the room. “It’s not,” he replies, “He died when you were 15, you had 3 years of that.” I’m almost surprised he remembered the exact time like that, though maybe he had been thinking about it and started to calculate. I don’t say anything for I have nothing to say at all, I don’t talk about it and I’ve tried to forget it. “I shoulda known,” he repeats. I turn my head to look at him being met with his side profile, his eyebrows scrunched together and his jaw tense, he was beating himself up over something he couldn’t control. “I didn’t expect you to help me or save me you know, or anyone for that matter. Just hanging out with you and Sammy was enough.”

His jaw seems to twitch, “I saw some bruises before, but you said it was from a hunt you helped your Dad with. You're a lousy liar so I should’ve known.”

“Dean,” I say firmly,  touching his shoulder. He meets my eyes, his green eyes are cold, “Trust me when I say it wasn’t your fault, it was no one’s fault. It just happened. And it’s over now, has been for a while.”

He swallows roughly, his Addams apple bobbing, and I know he doesn’t believe me, “It’s your Dad’s fault, he’s a prick. Don’t matter if he was grieving or not.”

I frown, remove my hand from his arm, and focus my attention back on the wall. I can feel his gaze burning into the side of my face, “Don’t tell me you actually feel bad for him…” he says but I don't answer, “You don’t blame him?” he asks confused, leaning forward in an attempt to catch my eyes. I shrug, shrinking further into myself in an attempt to make myself smaller, “I don–I don’t know. He wasn’t always like that…he just….Mom was gone so…” I exhale a shaky breath, “I know it was wrong, that he shouldn’t have been doing that. I know that. It’s not like I forgive him or anything, I mean he hurt my brother—”

“And you,” Dean cuts me off to add.

“Yeah…and I know there are healthier ways of coping, I don’t condone his actions and I couldn’t imagine how anyone could do that to their kids but Mom was gone and…”

“There is no ‘but’ and you know that. Your explanation isn't going anywhere ‘cause there’s no excuse for that,” he interjects firmly. I know he’s right, but it doesn’t feel right to believe or say and I don’t know why. “He was only mean when he was drunk, otherwise he was quiet or gone,” I try to reason but the words feel wrong as they leave my mouth. “Not an excuse,” he counters.

“I know,” I mumble, “But! It started as an accident!” I say looking at Dean, “And it was necessary. He was on a hunt by himself and we knew he would be back soon but it was late so me and B/N made dinner together, we ate and saved some for him. B/N ended up falling asleep early, his football practice totally knocked him out, so I stayed up and waited at the kitchen table to make sure Dad got home okay. When he finally did get home he was very drunk and smelt like alcohol, I helped him and he was babbling about Mom. He pushed me off of him, ‘said he could do it himself so I backed off a little.

Then he was trying to get to the fridge for another beer but I got in his way cause I knew he had too much and should have water instead, he called me some mean names that I don’t wish to repeat. I’m very stubborn so I didn’t move and he hit me, it was just a slap though. But I have this whole defense mechanism and if my body thinks it’s in true danger then my powers will start working to defend me without really my control, and it’s very hard to shut off. So things started to rattle, and a picture frame on the mantel of Mom broke and that really made him upset so he hit me again this time harder and I actually passed out. But that’s okay! cause nothing else broke and I could’ve really hurt someone or if it got too out of control then I could’ve gotten the attention of hunters.”

I stop my rambling of the story, watching Dean’s face to see if he finally understood. But his eyes were filled with so much sadness and his face dropped with sympathy, a frown on his lips. “What?” I ask confused, didn’t he get it now? He doesn’t answer, instead, he wraps his arms around me, bringing me into his chest. I shift my legs so I can hug him back comfortably, but I hold onto his arms more confused than anything. “Wasn’t necessary,” he says, his chin on my head. I open my mouth to say something else, to say he’s wrong but it hits me then. I was being an idiot, a total fool.

If someone told me that story I would feel bad for them and say they didn’t deserve that, they did nothing wrong in the first place. But it wasn’t someone else’s story, it was mine, and somehow that made it different. Right?

It shouldn’t. I know it shouldn’t, so why do I feel this way? I’m not normally like this. “Wasn’t your fault. You were a kid and you were trying to help, he’s an asshole and shouldn’t have done any of it,” Dean says softly.

Tears run down my cheek. I didn’t like his Dad because he didn’t treat them well so why was I making excuses for my Dad? Was it because of Mom? She loved him so wholly but still would have despised what he became, did he know that? Did that only make him feel worse?

And just because he wasn’t always mean to us doesn’t mean it was okay. Because it was more than being mean, I know that.

I know by morning I’ll be in a better mood. I’ll have a different perspective on things that I won’t understand for a while, I’m self-aware enough to know that too. But it will be okay because things always turn out okay, they always get better. Tomorrow will always be a new day and the sun will shine brighter.

I pull away from Dean just far enough to look at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, it was nothin’ against you.”

He gently wipes away a tear falling down my cheek, “Stop apologizing.”

I open my mouth to apologize for apologizing but seeing the issue there I lean my head into his chest again. We stay there silently for a while and I try to focus on the soft rise and fall of his chest instead of my mind. He rubs a hand up and down my back, and my shoulders drop. It’s been a long day with a lot of emotions and I was tired. “He can’t hurt you anymore. ‘Won’t let anyone hurt you,” he whispers just barely audible. But my eyes were fluttering shut, growing heavy so maybe I imagined it and the soft press of his lips to my crown.

Tomorrow will be better, I remind myself.