#I had excuses to make a wall despite trying every single time to talk about my issues | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

borathae · 2 years

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↳ Index [Chapter 18 - Desperation]

Pairing: Taehyung x f.Reader

Warnings: switch!Taehyung, morning sex, desperate & passionate sex, oral (f.receiving), body worshipping, handjob, edging (m.receiving), bondage with a tie, use of vibrators, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), overstimulation, he is being very goddamn needy (he has his fangs out *screeches*), dirty talk, creampie, the aftercare *sobs*, emotional pillowtalk & Taehyung being so in love

Wordcount: 10.9k

a/n: *throws chair against a wall but it bounces back and hits me in the face and knocks me tf out*

The next morning you get woken up by a painful cry. You jolt up from being startled, feeling confused for a moment until a quiet sob next to you calls your attention. Taehyung is still deep asleep, his whole body is shaking and his eyebrows are furrowed. He must be having a bad dream, judging by his tearstained cheeks and the way his fingers grip the blanket. He had even gotten rid of his shirt in his sleep, but despite being shirtless his skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat, making his hair stick to his forehead.

“Taehyung, wake up”, you tell him, shaking him softly.

He doesn’t budge, the nightmare still has its grip on him, making him writhe on the mattress and forcing whimpers out between his gritted teeth.

“Taehyung, wake up”, you try again a little louder than before, shaking him again.

He jolts awake with a loud gasp, ripping his eyes open and looking around the room without focus. His hand is pressed to his chest as if he is trying to check if his heart is still there. He looks utterly confused, probably still half asleep. A single tear escapes his eye and runs down the side of his face.

“You were having a nightmare, weren’t you?” you ask softly, stroking the sweat-soaked strands of hair out of his face.

Relief washes over his face when the sound of your sweet voice rings in his ears and he can feel the touch of your warm fingers on his face. He can feel the weight fall from his shoulders, the painful ache in his chest is finally gone.

“You are here”, he croaks out, his voice still heavy from sleep.

“Of course I am”, you assure him, cupping his cheek, “what did you dream about?”

“Nothing, just-“, he touches your hand, “-doesn’t matter.”

He sits up to get eye to eye with you, kneeling on the bed. He holds your face in his hands, his eyes race over your body as if trying to look at everything at the same time. Your eyes, your lips, your hands, your stomach, your chest, your hair, your nose, your neck. Everything is here, real and warm. You are here, next to him. It was all a bad dream, you didn’t leave him all alone in this world as you moved on to your next life.

“You didn’t leave”, he whispers.

“Why shoul-", you don't get to finish your sentence before Taehyung's lips come crashing down on yours.

He kisses you harshly, with so much desperation it makes your head spin. His fingers are in your hair, his chest is pressed against yours as you are both kneeling on the soft mattress. He groans, deepening the kiss as he pulls you even closer to his body, now having a good grip of your behind. He massages the flesh, grinding his crotch into your stomach. You can feel him harden already.

The pure desperation in his touches makes your whole body feel like puddy. Heat is starting to collect between your legs, your skin tingles with every hot touch of his skilful fingers, your head is dizzy. You aren’t used to such urgency from him, almost rough and messy. He is normally so collected and proper, but not today. Not right now.

You groan, breaking the kiss to stare up at Taehyung now that he is towering over you in this position. He is panting, his pupils are dilated and his lips swollen from kissing you so roughly. He is chasing you, almost pulling you back in hadn’t you pulled back slightly.

"Someone's desperate this morning", you say, your words are just a cheap excuse for you to catch your breath for just a moment.

"I nearly lost you", Taehyung retorts.

His hands don't stop roaming your body, now having a tight grip on your sides as he pulls you closer. He kisses you again, teeth collide with teeth, but Taehyung doesn't even notice in his lustdriven state. With every touch your fingers grant his body, with every moan and groan of pleasure he elicits from you, his kisses get sloppier. So messy, so wet and not at all like you know him. It's a new side to him, one that feels far too exciting to be real.

His fingers hook themselves into your bra. Rip. With one forceful tug the expensive clothing comes off your body. Your skin burns at the spot where the fabric had ripped. Cold air hits your nipples, hardening them. You shiver. Fuck that was hot, desperation suits him.

"That was the bra you got me", you gasp, turning your head slightly to the right to break the kiss.

"I will buy you a new one, just want to see you naked", he dismisses you before he decides to push you down onto the mattress.

Your back hits the soft bed, a gasp leaves your parted lips. For a moment you can do nothing more than stare up at your lover in utter shock, well mostly desire. He has you caged between his arms, his chest is pressed against yours, his hips roll so desperately into yours one could have believed he wanted to fuck you right through your panties.

"I'm so fucked. You have me wrapped around your little finger. Do you know that?" he is panting as he speaks the words, bucking his hips into yours to demonstrate.

Your stomach tingles as pleasure shoots through your body, drawing out a pitched moan from you. His lips latch themselves onto your neck, kissing and licking at your sensitive skin.

"Fuck ___ I exist to worship you", he pants, sucking on your skin afterwards.

You shiver, hard nipples rubbing over his chest as you take a deep breath. Taehyung releases your skin, the feeling which follows is exhilarating. Warmth tingles in your neck as the blood rushes through it.

"I have no other purpose than to adore you", he whispers and the moment he gently bites down on your earlobe he knows he did something.

Your back arches, your fingernails dig into his shoulders, your head rolls to the side to offer him more of your neck as throaty moans leave you. He wastes no time in covering even the last inch of your skin with open-mouthed kisses, whispering dirty nothings every so often.

"You are doing things to me. Fuck", you groan scratching your nails down his back. He shivers, halting his kisses to gaze down at you.

"I can do even better things to you. If only you allow me", he rasps, cupping your clothed core and stroking his fingers through your folds almost teasingly slow.

A shake shoots through your body at the feeling, your legs part even more. You want him so bad, all you can think about is how his cock would feel like lodged inside of you.

"Tae-Taehyung."

He takes a deep breath, rolling his pointer finger over your clothed clit. He growls quietly.

"I can smell you, it's intoxicating. Oh sweetest, my mind is going hazy at your scent."

He has never been so blunt before. Your mind is going hazy too because of his words.

"Get me naked please!" you blurt out desperately, grinding yourself against the hot palm of his hand.

Taehyung smirks, his eyes darken.

"I thought you'd never ask", he says, voice sultry.

He lowers himself down to your chest, never once breaking eye contact with you. His fingers play with your nipples, pinching and tugging them.

"Your breasts are ravishing, do you know that?" he whispers, connecting his lips with your nipple in a wet kiss, moaning sinfully low. He sucks on it hungrily, kneading the rest of your breast as he does.

You gasp and groan, basking in the feeling of his famished mouth. It is as if he had been starving for weeks and your chest is his sweet relief. He kisses and licks until your skin is tainted in his saliva. He sucks and bites until you are covered in his marks. Like blue and purple flowers of adoration they span all over your chest.

Taehyung releases your left nipple with a sinful growl, dragging his teeth over it as he does.

"God I want to worship you all day long my sweetest", he groans and begins to leave a wet trail of kisses all the way from your chest down to your stomach. You are covered in his lovebites once he is finished, as if you were his canvas and he needed to create the most beautiful of artworks. And you were writhing at this point, skin so sensitive that just the faint tickle of his breath made your pussy throb.

He stops right above the hemline of your lace panties. He looks up so darkly it makes you swallow. He seems so different this morning, so driven by lust his whole face changed. Almost inhumanly dark are his eyes burning, almost inhumanly good looks his face in that light. But then, he isn’t human after all, he just did an incredible job at hiding that side from you. It seems that is going to change today. It excites you to the point of breathlessness that he is so unapologetically himself this morning.

"Tae what-" you suddenly gasp now that he has your panties tightly in his exposed fangs, pulling them down your legs. He moans with a cocky smirk on his lips. And while you try your hardest not to press your legs together in excitement, he crawls down the bed, never letting go of your panties and not once breaking eye contact with you.

First your left leg then your right leg slips out of your panties and in the next moment the thin material is pressed to his face as he inhales hungrily.

His muscles ripple, long cock twitching in its confinements. He basks in your scent for a long time, cheeks carrying black veins and eyes rolled to the back of his head. Holy shit, you think, is this really your otherwise sweet boyfriend, who so bluntly smothers himself with your panties like an addict?

He releases it with a deep groan.

"Fuck", he chokes out, smiling crazily with his head tilted back, "I could orgasm just from your scent", he let's you know and chuckles with a certain madness in his deep voice.

You mewl, writhing and rubbing your legs together. His tongue is way too loose today, you will not survive this.

Taehyung lets his head bounce to the front, throwing your panties on the floor. He growls, fangs growing as he stares at your pussy. This is too much attention, you feel exposed, quickly closing your legs.

"No, darling no. Don't shy away", he places his hands on thigh, "open your legs for me. Let me see that perfect cunt."

You are mewling as you part your legs, presenting yourself to your hungry boyfriend. Your heart is racing like crazy. God, his veins become even darker, his tongue darting out to lick over his reddened lips.

"There she is", his voice became deeper, "you are so pretty when you are so wet for me. And your smell. Darling, did I ever tell you how intoxicating you smell?"

Taehyung slowly crawls up the bed again, now totally mesmerised by your arousal soaked core, growling in pleasure. He is legitimately salivating like an animal at the sight, having to swallow repeatedly so it wouldn’t drip all over the mattress and soil it.

"I'm so blessed, you are so beautiful", he moans, eyeing your pussy like it was the most delicious breakfast he had ever seen.

To him it was, delicious and with a scent so addicting it made his mind spin. He can't wait to dig in. He grabs your hips, pulls you close and sticks his tongue out eagerly.

"Oh fuck", you groan, throwing your head back at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your core.

He eats you out messily, slurping and groaning all whilst basically eyefucking you. One of his hands plays with your breast, rolling your swollen nipple between his fingers whilst the other caresses your leg in worship. One moment his tongue plays with your swollen clit, drawing vigorous figures of eight so good they make your toes curl and the next moment his wet muscle is so far up your pussy you are slowly but surely forgetting it is just his tongue doing the fucking.

"You are fucking crazy, holy fuck", you hiccup, biting down at the palm of your own hand to keep the moans at bay. Let's not try and wake his roommates that early, the sun hasn't even come out of hiding yet.

Taehyung stops for a moment to speak, licking over his lips to get more of your taste.

"You steal my sanity from me", he growls against your core, licking a thick strip from your entrance all the way up to your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat, new drops of your sweet arousal collects on your entrance, ready to get devoured by Taehyung's eager tongue.

"I'm so gonna cum from this", you laugh breathlessly, digging the heels of your feet into the mattress to keep yourself from closing your legs around his head and suffocating him to death.

"That's my plan", he says between hungry licks.

Your fingers are in his soft locks, guiding his movements. Truth be spoken, he doesn't need any guidance, this man knows your body better than you do yourself. Every lick and suck, every touch and pinch of your nipple feels exactly like you want them to. And fuck, right now you can't decide if this is a blessing or a curse.

And just as you try to get fresh air into your lungs from having held your breath for too long, it gets knocked out again when two of his long fingers bury themselves inside of you. He slips in without resistance, swirling his tongue over your clit at the same time. Long and thick, his fingers make themselves comfortable in your hot walls. They begin to fuck you so good your eyes roll into the back of your head and your legs quake.

This is it. It's impossible not to climax from that. The way they curl exactly the moment they grace your g-spot makes you see stars. The way they stretch you out so perfectly, makes your mouth fall open. The way they feel nearly as good as his dick does, so long, so goddamn long, makes you mewl pathetically. How can someone have such long fingers? God you want to cry right now, the pleasure is unbearable.

"Good christ, I'm-" your legs start shaking, you can feel the knot in your stomach form. So hot, this is so hot right now, god you are going to cum so hard.

Taehyung growls, rolling his hips into the mattress so well his cock throbs. Deeper and deeper he goes, exploring your clenching walls. He growls again, sucking on your clit before swirling his hot tongue over it. Desperate. He is so desperate for your orgasm, so fucking desperate.

"Taehyungahfuck", you manage to choke out before your high takes control of all your senses. Your walls around his digits spasm, your legs close around his head as you shake in pleasure and moan like a crazy woman. You are seeing stars behind your squeezed shut eyelids. Your body feels like it's burning up. For how long have you been shaking? It feels like forever, a forever you never want to end.

Taehyung only stops making out with your pussy when you start complaining about being too sensitive and his licks feel borderline painful. In one swift movement he is face to face with you again, his whole lower face is covered in your arousal, glistening in the lights and his fangs are dripping with saliva. So dirty and sinful and the fire burning in his hooded eyes doesn't help the whole situation get any easier to handle.

"I want to fuck you so bad" he moans and the next moment his lips are kissing yours hungrily. You can taste yourself on his tongue, turning you on all the more. He is seeping into your veins like a drug and you are loving it. His hands roam your body, stopping once one of your breasts is safely cupped by his big hand. He squeezes and plays with them exactly like he knows you like it, making you arch your back in desperation.

Your own hands make their way down to his still clothed cock, gracing your fingernails over his toned stomach. Goosebumps form on his skin wherever you touch him, his muscles react to every scratch, flexing underneath your fingertips. You play with the hemline of his pyjama bottoms for a moment, pulling it away from his body and slipping your fingers inside just enough for him to feel your nails on his skin. His breathing quickens, he breaks the kiss to groan desperately instead.

"Don't tease me, I can't handle it today, not when I am so weak for your body", he croaks, shaking in anticipation.

"It's fun", you rasp and giggle, fingers barely touching him.

"You don’t want to do this darling", he warns in a deep growl.

"And if I wanna?"

Taehyung looks at you. You can watch how desperation fills his features.

You giggle and in one skilful movement you have his pants pulled over his perky butt, freeing his cock in the process. You get a good grip of him, holding his swollen cock tightly around the base, precum had collected on the tip, threatening to trip onto your stomach. His arms shake from wanting to give up on him, his eyelids flutter as the softest of moans slip past his swollen lips.

You begin moving, giving him slow strokes. The kind you know are just the slightest bit not enough for him.

“Please sweetest, please”, he begs, shimmying up the mattress to chase your touch.

You are melting. Desperation suits him. Oh, he is so much fun to be with. And truly you want to give him more, make him see stars, but that desperation in his eyes is so addicting that you don’t want to give in quite yet. So you lessen the pressure even more, touching his heated tip with featherlight touches.

“Oh why do you want to torture me today?” he whines, dropping his head as a pained whimper escapes him. The sound twists tingling coils in your stomach.

“I don’t”, you insist, giving him more pressure while you roll your wrist. Just a little faster, sloppier.

Taehyung moans and shakes, ruby eyes rolling back and hips bucking into your hand.

He feels so heavy and big in your hands, even bigger than normal. The total desperation of nearly losing you must have messed with his hormones so badly he apparently grew another inch over night.

You would have almost chuckled out loud at your silly thoughts if it wasn't for Taehyung gripping your hips so harshly it stings and completely silencing your thoughts in the process.

"Let me fuck you already, please", he groans desperately, his dick twitches in your hand, tripping all over your stomach.

That makes you slow down again, eyes lighting up in delight at the way his features fill with panic.

“Not yet”, you tease and giggle.

“___”, he whimpers, grasping your face instead, “what do I have to do to end this torture? I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

He nods his head vigorously.

“What do you, you need? My tongue? My hands? I’ll worship you, g-give you everything, I’ll treat you like a goddess….”

You listen to him, jerking him off better and faster the more he lists. Taehyung’s voice becomes raspier and raspier the faster you go.

“Yes, thank you…” he sighs, dropping to his elbows to lower his mouth to your neck to begin his worshipping.

You moan and tingle. You can feel the desperation in his kisses. They aren’t placed gentlemanly, wet and sloppy with more tongue than lip. He also pauses every now and then to catch his breath, convulsing in a pleasurable shake each time he does.

“Thank you so much darling, thank you. It feels so good”, he moans breathily, combing his trembling fingers through your hair. "You do that so well, oh it feels so good." His lips dance over your face, stopping on your forehead for a moan of your name.

You twist your hand and squeeze his tip.

“Yes, oh god, yes”, he groans, hiding his face in your neck, “yes, yes, I’m – ah ___.”

With the pressure you have going on, you begin jerking off his entire length, basking in the way he is so wet and sticky in pleasure. It makes the slip just that much more fun, helps you go even faster.

He groans and grunts, biting down on your shoulder. Not hard enough to actually pierce you, but you can feel that his fangs are out. They are resting on your skin, threatening to slip in if only he'd put the slightest amount of strength into his bite. They feel so sharp and somehow also really warm, leaking saliva. You feel so fucked up because that sensation is making you so fucking wet that you are soaking the sheets. Taehyung’s fangs on your skin, the thought of him stealing your blood, the danger of him taking too much, the thrill of feeling dizzy in potential blood loss. It shouldn’t turn you on that much and yet it does. You are so sick and twisted and greedy. Oh so greedy for his desperate moans.

“Does that feel good Tae?” you taunt, touching his perky butt to give it a good squeeze at the same time as you squeeze around his tip.

He nods his head, chest rumbling in a deep moan.

“Are you thinking of biting me?”

He hesitates, but throbs in your hand. So you squeeze around him harder, quicken your movements.

“Tell me Taehyung.”

His voice is muffled by your shoulder, coming out as a gurgled sound of pleasure. He nods his head, sucking on your skin just so he can do something with his mouth before he actually taints your shoulder with such a gruesome deed.

“This is so hot”, you moan. You pay more attention to his cockhead, inching your fingers closer and closer to his spot most private.

He whimpers, tensing his ass as his cock throbs in your hand. The bite breaks, he curses and drags his nose up your neck.

“I want to fucking cum”, he croaks, making your stomach tingle in excitement. That new look suits him.

“You want to cum?” you ask, spanking his ass playfully.

“___”, he moans, voice sounding so pathetically distorted in pleasure that it almost sounds like he was sobbing.

You spank him again, timing it with a skilful tug on his sensitive cock.

“Now”, Taehyung wails, trembling “I’m going to…no darling please d-don’t slow down again”, he squeaks, cradling you in his arms to hug you in desperation, “why are you doing this to me? Why would you slow down? What did, did I do t-to you?” he sobs, fucking the air desperately.

But to no avail, your hands are gone, now holding his hips. The only friction he has, is your stomach and his own and that just isn’t enough. He was so used to your fingers and that perfect, goddamn perfect, pressure they gave him. And now it is gone. You edged him. Taehyung is going insane, tripping hot tears on your face as he lifts his head to look at you.

“Please give me something again, please”, he hiccups, grasping your face tightly.

“Holy fuck, you’re so hot right now”, you murmur, lips parting in awe upon seeing the state he was in.

Ruby eyes all glassy, fangs completely out and dark hair completely ruffled at the front. Who could have thought that someone so collected can turn into such a snotty mess under your fingertips.

"Yeah? You want something again?"

"Please, anything. Please", he begs, nodding his head vigorously.

"Fine, show me what you can do with those hips of yours", you allow him, parting your legs and wiggling your hips teasingly.

"Oh darling...thank you…"

It takes him not even a second and he has already rid himself of his pants completely, breathing heavily as he looks at your glistening folds. There it is. His damnation and salvation.

“Go on Tae, take her”, you encourage him, parting yourself with the help of your fingers.

“You are the sexiest woman I have ever met ___”, he rasps, grabbing his cock.

You giggle, opening your legs more.

"Turn around", he says, dragging his big palms down the back side of your thighs, "let me rearrange your guts whilst you arch for me", he growls and dear lord if your pussy wasn't wet before she definitely is now.

You are happy to oblige, rolling onto your stomach and already getting on all fours. However Taehyung has other plans for you as he presses your lower body back down into the mattress gently. His hands play with your ass for a moment, kneading the flesh before giving you a hard enough slap to make it pulsate.

“Ah Tae”, you gasp.

“That was revenge for the torture you put me through”, he says and spanks your other cheek as well.

You moan, arching into his big hand.

“Now, we’re equal”, he says and giggles when you send him a look.

"Fine, I’ll take it", you say with a smile.

He grins and grabs your ass with both hands to massage it. His smile falls, dark hunger replaces it, “why do you have to be so perfect, ___? Now all I want to do is eat your ass", he rasps, sneaking his finger dangerously close to your puckered hole.

You gasp and shiver, chasing the touch. That would be heaven.

"Then do it."

"Mhhm your words are like music to my ears", he rasps, "later, now I want to fuck you. Hard and good", he says.

Just one breath later his dick is aligned with your entrance, teasing your hole. Your breath hitches in excitement.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, so ready…"

Taehyung can't look away as his dick slips inside of you easily, getting swallowed up inch by inch until he bottoms out. You choke on a moan, tingling all over. He feels so much thicker than his fingers did, especially in this position.

"T-this was a bad decision, this position is a-a lot", he stutters the moment he starts moving his hips. His fingers are bruising your skin painfully well.

"You okay?" you ask, not wanting to enjoy it too much in case Taehyung feels uncomfortable.

Truth was, this position makes you feel everything. Every vein and ripple on his dick, every stroke of his tip on your g-spot, every grind of your clit on the mattress. You feel his fingers on your back as he tries to support himself, you feel his groin brush against your ass with every roll of his hips, you feel the hair of his legs tickle the inside of your thighs every time he wiggles slightly. God, how you want to enjoy every moment of it.

"Yeah I'm okay, just feels too good", Taehyung finally says, "it takes everything inside of me not to let go and rip you apart with my cock", he confesses breathlessly.

"I-I’m not t-that fragile fuck", you stutter, slightly faltering at the end from Taehyung hitting your g-spot especially good. Great that sounded perfectly convincing, with your voice cracking and a gasping moan escaping your lips.

"Don't tempt me."

"Do it, I want it."

"Darling…" he warns.

"Do it, don’t hold back", you plead, clenching down on him.

“Please don’t do that”, he pants.

“Tae”, you whine, wiggling your hips, “Tae I need it rough today. Please don’t hold back.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes, show me.”

The growl which he lets out is demonic. He grabs a big bundle of your hair, forcing you to raise your head as best as possible. It burns, forcing tears to your eyes.

"Tae", you squeak, eyelids fluttering.

"You shouldn't have said that. You really shouldn’t have said that", he growls, his voice low and tripping with arousal, "do you have any idea what I want to do to you?"

"S-show me", you squeak, feeling dizzy from all the hair tugging. This is incredible.

"Oh trust me, I will", he moans, releasing your hair to grip your hips instead.

And then he is fucking into you, basically drilling his dick into your pussy with so much force the air gets knocked out of your lungs. He is panting, you are moaning, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room. You are sure his roommates are awake by now, probably hating you to their core.

"That's it Taehyung, keep going! Don't stop!" you cry out, grasping the sheets so tightly you are scared they might rip. Your hips come off the mattress with every thrust of his hips, meeting him in the middle, getting even more of his length inside.

"You're ruining me. Do you even know the power you have over me? Shit, you will be my downfall", Taehyung pants, now starting to pull your hips back onto his length with every thrust. Sweat rolls down his chest, his muscles burn from exhaustion and so does his cock from wanting to release. But he keeps going, he keeps fucking you hard and rough just like he had wanted to do for months. He can’t stop, not when he has started. He wants to ruin you, spoil your taste for every man to ever come after him.

"Fuck yes, keep going", you sob, nodding your head vigorously, "please don’t stop."

"I won’t stop, I won’t stop until I have you seeing galaxies", he grunts, spreading your ass apart to have a better view on where your bodies are connecting. His cock is so wet, your pussy looks so pretty as she stretches around him. Taehyung moans and speeds up, going even deeper.

"Taehyung!"

You never forgot, but right now you are blissfully reminded how big his cock actually is. You are pretty sure that he is actually rearranging your insides. Or if he isn’t, he is at least shaping your pussy to fit around his cock perfectly. And you are loving every second of it.

The bed creaks underneath you, probably wanting to give up on you. Sweat had started to form on your skin, your lungs ache from continuously having to wheeze so quickly. It's the good kind of ache, the one which makes your head spin and your pussy clench around him. God, you are still so sensitive from your last orgasm, you are practically dancing on knife's edge straight to nirvana already.

"Fuck, that's it. Clench around me", Taehyung moans throatily, digging his fingernails into your skin in concentration.

“Taehyung”, you sob, arching your back in an involuntary convulse, “I’m gonna cum.”

“No.”

He slips out and picks you up just to flip you around and throw you back on the mattress as if your weight didn’t matter to him at all. It knocks the air out of you, but not as much as the animalistic craze on his features does.

“Holy shit Tae”, you moan, reaching for him but failing. You look up. A tie, burgundy, wrapped around your wrists and keeping you tied to the bed frame, "what? How did you?” you look at him with widened eyes, stomach convulsing in arousal.

“Comfortable darling?” he taunts, smirking darkly.

You gulp, nodding your head vigorously.

“Y-yes”, you stutter.

“Good”, he rasps and grips your legs to open them for him, “trust me, you’ll need them.”

“What do you- oh fuuuck”, you moan, gripping the tie with trembling fingers.

Taehyung is back where he belongs, fucking his cock in and out of you in mindblowing ways. To make matters even worse – or better – he is pressing a vibrator to your clit, forcing you to take every second of the strong vibrations.

You gasp and squeak, tugging on the tie with all your strength. Taehyung was right. You need it. Holy fuck you need it. You would have probably clawed his chest open if you weren’t tied up.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he growls, drilling his big cock into your convulsing pussy over and over again until you run on solely him and all the things he can do to you.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” you wail, arching your back over and over again. It doesn’t help. It really, really doesn’t, because each time you arch, you force the vibrator to grind over your clit, “holy fuck Tae, Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung”, you begin chanting, squeezing your eyes shut.

"There we go. Say my name just like this", he encourages you, drawing circles on your clit and watching how this makes your back arch sinfully.

"Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung", your chants continue, you couldn’t possibly say anything else. Not when his name is the only word of worship you want to scream.

“There’s more where this came from. There’s so much fucking more”, he growls, watching you with blown-out pupils. This is better than feeding. This right here. You on his cock, clenching and screaming his name with utter, soul consuming pleasure on your features. Taehyung feels on ecstasy. This is better than feeding.

You barely hear what he told you, orgasming on his cock with a gasp for air. You know that Taehyung knows that you are. You know that he knows, but that this morning he just doesn’t care. He just keeps on fucking you, forcing your pussy to find no time to feel overstimulated because the pleasure he gives her is just too addicting to want to stop.

“Taehyung”, you wail, fighting against your restraints.

“I know, take it”, he pants, grinding his fangs from the sheer torture of having to hold back. Truly he wants to orgasm. Every fiber in his being wants to let go. But he can’t. He isn’t finished with you yet. He wants to please you, treat you like a goddess until his name is the only name you want to pray to.

You mewl, kicking the mattress with your left leg. The vibrations are so much. Holy fuck they are so strong. Your clit is aching, burning, forcing your pussy to weep around his perfect cock.

Taehyung grabs your leg and forces it to bend at the knee so he can press it into the mattress beside your body.

"Stay still, you'll only hurt yourself", he growls, rocking back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Deep and hard. Just how he is supposed to fuck with a cock like his'. With your focus completely messed up, you stare at his face, meeting his real face contorted in pleasure.

"Taehyung", you squeak out weakly, making him smirk menacingly.

“Do you regret it, darling? Mhm? Do you still want me to show you how I can fuck”, he challenges, thrusting into you so strongly he forces your body to slip up the mattress a good two inches.

“Yes!” you scream, going cross eyed, “I love it! I fucking love it!”

“Yeah?” he grunts and growls, “and I’m not even using magic on you, just me. That is what I can give you”, he spits, twisting the vibrator in ways that make you crumble in an instant.

“Tae”, his name turns into a moan, your mouth is so agape that Taehyung has a good view of your palate. This high feels different than the first one, more aggressive, shorter but just as strong. Maybe even stronger because as that explosion of warmth dies down and Taehyung still keeps the vibrator pressed to your pulsating clit you actually feel like passing out.

You are clenching so much that you can feel every fucking vein on his big cock and you are loving it.

“Yes darling, fuck yes”, he moans, fucking you through the overstimulation and his desires to cum. One more. He wants to give you one more glimpse of heaven.

“I can’t please”, you sob, tugging on the ties so harshly you feel your wrists ache.

Taehyung lessens the pressure of the vibrator for now. He leans down and claims your lips in a passionate kiss. This makes everything so much better, hotter, deeper.

You are the one to break the kiss, moaning his name once again. You are gazing into his eyes.

"You are doing so well", he whispers, giving you slow rolls of his hips.

The praise makes you melt. It makes you want to reach up and twist his hair. But you can’t. Instead you have to twist the tie and arch your chest into him.

"Taehyung…." you croak.

“Tell me darling, tell me and I’ll keep it slow.”

“No slow...please fast…"

He chuckles and straightens up again, “I knew it”, he rasps and presses the toy against your clit again.

"Ah!" you squeak and flinch, “again.”

It is embarrassing how quickly he gets you. But it is way more impressive just how good he makes it feel. It may not be the long, drawn out type of orgasm, the type that swallows every inch of you in warmth. But it is strong, sits mostly in your lower stomach, makes your pussy throb uncontrollably and makes you wish for time to stand still.

Taehyung encourages you with guttural moans and deep thrusts, watching your features morph into the prettiest of expressions and wishing for his memories to keep them safe for later.

“You- ah Tae”, you wanted to beg for a break, but no. You are so far gone. You had thoughts once. Proper, intelligent thoughts. Not anymore. There is no thought inside that brain of yours. Just Taehyung’s name and nonsensical noises.

Said noises are spilling from your lips, encouraging Taehyung to fuck you better and better. He knows that he promised his cock release once you hit your third high, but it came too quickly. This wasn’t his plan. Not yet. He isn’t ready for this to end yet.

So he keeps on fucking you, rubbing the vibrator up and down your swollen clit whilst digging his nails into your thigh to keep your leg still. Your other leg is still flailing on the mattress, kicking it desperately. You can’t even stop it from happening. It happens automatically as if Taehyung was controlling your muscles.

“This is such a turn-on. I can’t stop fucking you, darling”, he pants, watching you struggle against his tie. The poor fabric, it will look all disheveled once he is done with you.

You wanted to tell him that you also don’t want him to stop, but it comes out as three noises and one wheeze for air.

Taehyung understands nonetheless, treating you to deep thrusts. Skin slaps against skin, he feels his balls hit your ass each time he thrusts into you, you feel his cockhead all the way in your uterus. Yes, highly unlikely, but again, there is no thought in that brain of yours. Just hunger for Taehyung's cock.

“I literally can’t. I’m aching to release and yet all I want to do is keep making you orgasm. Over. And. Over. Again”, he pants, drawing closer and closer with every spoken word.

Now he is inches away from your face, basking in the scent of your pleasure and feeling his veins tingle in the sound of your rushing blood.

You peel your eyes open upon feeling his hot presence.

“Tae”, you whine.

Somehow the corners of his mouth seem wider, showing you another set of fangs just beside where his normal canines are supposed to sit. They are smaller than the first pair, glinting in the lights.

“That’s what you do to me. You turn me into a fucking animal“, he lulls, opening his mouth to run his tongue over his fangs.

“Holy fuck”, you press out and break.

Taehyung watches you go cross eyed before your eyes flutter closed.

“Yes”, he growls, grinding the toy into you, “cum for me. Yes darling, yes.”

You squeak and mewl, convulsing on the mattress until the fire in your veins gets too much and your body tries to calm it with strong spurts of clear liquid all over his cock and the sheets.

"Yes darling, yes, yes, yes."

Taehyung shudders, hips faltering. This is what he wanted to happen. This is the state he wanted you in. The highest level of pleasure, soul consuming and oh so addicting. This is what his queen deserves and nothing else.

"Oh darling you make me want to make you drip”, he croaks, barely holding up the rhythm. He is so sensitive. Too sensitive. You are squeezing him so much and the new wetness is soaking his cock. Taehyung can barely even move an inch without convulsing in the need to release.

"Fill me up, please", you encourage him, needing the feeling of his hot cum coating your walls to feel completely content, "make me goddamn drip, like I’m your cumdump."

"F-fuck darling" Taehyung croaks with his voice pitched, "I'm, I’m ah c-cumming", he yelps throwing his head back and finally letting go. His stomach contracts as waves of hot pleasure course through him. His eyes roll back, he is seeing stars. He shakes in ecstasy, still not stopping the movements of his hips despite how much more intense it makes it feel. He wants to enjoy his high to the fullest, he hasn’t cum like this in ages.

"Yes, shit", you groan before a hot wave of pleasure courses through your body in a mindnumbing magnitude. You are screaming just as loud as Taehyung is, crying from pleasure and salivating, unable to keep your mouth closed.

This is something you will never be able to forget again. And neither will Taehyung.

"Damn", Taehyung falls down on top of you the moment the last wave of your shared orgasm has died down. His still terribly swollen cock he keeps lodged inside of you for the time being, feeling far too tired to care.

“Yeah…” you agree. Your ears are ringing, you can feel your pulse in your pussy, you are also pretty sure those colours behind your eyelids will never ever go away again.

So that is how Taehyung can fuck if you let him. So utterly consumed by you that he wants to give you heaven over and over again. You hit the jackpot, didn’t you?

He feels just as sticky as you do, his skin radiates heat, making you sweat just all the more. He is heavy on your body, constricting your airflow.

"I can't breathe" you mumble with your squished face between his head and the mattress.

"Oh dear, I apologize" he gasps shyly, rolling off your body, now lying next to you on his stomach. He has his eyes closed and his cheek is squished in a way that makes his lips stick out.

“You just killed me”, he murmurs, “only you can make me fuck like this. So completely derailed.”

“Don’t say that Tae”, you whisper and giggle.

He peels his eyes open, looking completely drugged up.

"I'm serious. I was cursing way too much. I apologize for it."

"Don't, it was such a turn-on. You’re really hot when you curse."

"Mhm", he lets out and chuckles tiredly. He closes his eyes, "give me a moment and I will free you, I currently can’t move my body.”

You laugh, “it’s fine, I like chilling with my wrists tied up”, you joke.

He chuckles tiredly and tries to reach for your ties only to fail and for his hand to flop down on your chest. He hums and begins giving your breasts soft squeezes, lips curling into a boyish smirk.

“Are you seriously groping my titties?”

“Mhm.”

You chuckle and close your eyes, enjoying the touches until Taehyung finally finds strength in his abs to sit up. He does so with a grunt and his head feeling dizzy. You watch him as he works. First he loosens the knot on the bedpost, making your arms fall down. Then he opens the neatly done knot around your wrists, placing soothing kisses on the sensitive skin. They don’t hurt, they just pinched and burned a little, but his kisses make even that stop.

“Do they hurt a lot?”

“No, not at all.”

“That’s so good to hear. Did you like what I did?"

"Yes, I was really confused at first but you were right, I really needed them and I trusted you completely."

He smiles, "I'm happy. I must admit that I have a liking for bondage."

"I don't know why, but I am not surprised. You give me those vibes."

He chuckles, slightly embarrassed, "gosh, I’m truly an open book, aren’t I?"

"Not really, I just spent enough time with you", you say and giggle.

His features soften at your words, the next kisses he places on your wrists are spilling over in love for you.

"We can do it again someday. And I want to do it to you."

His eyes flit up to meet yours. The right corner of his lips curls into a lopsided smirk.

"You have a little torturous side to you, haven’t you?"

You nod your head, "that handjob was one of the hottest things I have ever done."

"Mhm", he smirks as he kisses your wrists, keeping his eyes locked on you, "darling, I can gladly be your prisoner. You just have to ask."

"Wow", you whisper, "you are so hot."

He gives you a playful cock of his eyebrow and a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Then he places your hands on your stomach and cages you between his elbows to place the softest kisses all over your face.

“You were so incredible, darling. I loved this.”

“Me too Tae, I loved it so much.”

He smiles against your lips as he kisses you. And while he kisses you, he runs his fingers through your hair, relaxing you perfectly.

He breaks away, caressing your cheek as he gazes at you with lovedrunk eyes.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

“No, you weren’t. I liked it a lot.”

“That makes me happy”, he says and smiles, “I’ll get you some water, okay?”

“Yes, thank you.”

Taehyung is gone for only a moment and then he is already back, carrying a glass of water and a silver bowl.

He makes himself comfortable on the bed again, handing you the glass of water. You drink it gladly, finishing it in one go.

“Wow, I needed that. I was really thirsty”, you sigh and look at the bowl, “what’s in there?”

Taehyung rests on his stomach and grins.

“Pralines from the chocolatier I told you about, I purchased them in the thought of you. Try one, they are almost as sweet as you.”

You let him feed you the chocolate with burning cheeks and a fluttering heart. It melts on your tongue upon contact, leaving a rich chocolaty taste behind. There was also a hint of orange liquor in the taste and as the chocolate melts, a piece of dried orange reveals itself on your tongue. Sweet and oh so rich in flavour.

Taehyung eats a piece as well, smiling fondly when he watches your face fill with enjoyment.

“And?” he asks, reaching out to tug a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s so sweet.”

“Yes? Then I’ll put the bowl here for you. Eat as many as you like, I can always get more.”

You let your droopy eyes race over his features. It feels so divine to be loved by him.

“Thank you Tae, you always treat me so well. I feel like a princess when I’m with you”, you whisper, caressing his cheek.

He lowers his eyes shyly and giggles. Then he leans down and kisses your lips. He tastes of chocolate, making the kiss just that much sweeter.

“You’re not a princess, my sweetest. You’re my queen”, he whispers and steals another kiss just so you can’t tell him to stop flustering you.

He pulls back with a sigh and lies down beside you on his back. You roll on your side, watching him sparkling eyes. Sex makes him look so handsome. Taehyung is always handsome. But there is something in sex that gives his face that handsome glow to it and which messes up his hair in a way that gives him such alluring beauty.

And while you bask in his beauty and all those feel good hormones he gives you, Taehyung is letting his eyes race over the roof of his canopy bed. He seems weirdly worried all of a sudden, he is even grinding his teeth.

"Is something bothering you, handsome?" you ask, scooting closer to get rid of the distance, "don't worry, your fangs weren’t bothersome. I liked looking at them", you assure him.

Your hand comes resting on his chest, drawing little hearts all over his skin. You caress his arm with the tip of your nose, kissing it every so often.

He smiles softly for only a second.

"It's not that", he murmurs and lets out a long sigh.

"Then what is it?"

"Just-", he shrugs his shoulders, "-what happened to you. I'm thinking of it again, now that my mind is cleared of all sexual desires", he lets out a long sigh, combing his fingers through his hair in frustration, "I'm blaming myself."

"Why? It's not your fault. Don’t beat yourself up about it", you comfort him, planting little kisses all over his arm and shoulder.

"I should have stayed by your side."

You look at his face. His lower lip is trembling.

"Why did I leave you alone at the ball?" he manages to press out and then a heartbreaking sob shakes his entire body.

"Taehyung. Hey Tae, hey", you gasp, propping yourself up on your elbows, "don't cry handsome, it’s okay. Don’t cry."

"I feel so terrible that, that-", he hits own chest and grunts, "-it hurts so much in here."

He sobs, contorting his face in pain.

"I can't lose you ___", he presses out.

"You haven’t lost me, I’m still here."

"It's my fault. I, I should have stayed with you", he hiccups.

"No, Tae….please don’t beat yourself up about it, please."

Taehyung sniffles and sobs, looking at you with sad puppy eyes.

"I swore to protect you and failed to do so", he whimpers, "those w-wounds are m-my fault", he stutters, touching the cut on your cheek, “you got hurt because I didn’t protect you. I hurt you, th-this is all my fault.”

"Stop it", you insist, leaning down to kiss his lips.

Taehyung gasps, for only a second he is silent. And as you pull back, you realise that he didn’t even close his eyes for your kiss surprised him so much. He blinks. It makes tears escape his eyes and run down his cheeks. His pouty lips tremble like crazy.

"You did everything right. Back at the ball I wanted you to leave me alone and you respected my wish and I appreciate it so much that you did", you say, cleaning the tears from his cheeks, "you couldn’t have known that this would happen and I don’t blame you for it."

Silence for only a second as he lets your words sink in.

"My sweetest ___" he croaks, reaching up with shaking fingers to cup your cheek, "I want to cry again."

"Don't", you whisper, kissing his cheeks.

Taehyung sighs, letting his eyes fall closed. You kiss his eyelids, making him sigh again. His tears linger on your lips and yet you kiss him again. You gladly taste their saltiness when it means that Taehyung can feel better.

"This feels so good", he whispers.

You lift your head, watching how he flutters his eyes open slowly to gaze at you.

"My darling", he says softly, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear, "you are my weakness", he whispers.

"Taehyung…"

"I am speaking the truth, I feel so vulnerable when I’m with you, but I don’t want it to stop because you make me feel so alive."

"Ah Tae you're flustering me", you murmur, giggling.

Taehyung smiles softly, looking at your lips. His arms finally close around you in a hug. He rolls to his side, taking you with him as he pulls you close to his chest.

"I know", he breathes, nuzzling his nose into your ruffled hair, "I love it when you fluster."

He smells exactly like he always does post-sex, hot with a hint of his cologne still present. Oh, you could lie here forever and drown in the feeling of his naked body against yours.

"Taehyung I like you so, so much", you say and squeeze him.

"I like you too, so so much", whispers with fondness in his voice.

"Can you really get your magic ring back?"

"Yes, I'll talk to Jimin tomorrow. I promise."

"Gosh this makes me feel a lot better", you kiss his collarbone, "and Taehyung?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I lost it."

"Don't apologize. I know Jimin, he is a trickster. It wasn’t your fault."

"Well, yeah but-"

"It wasn’t your fault ___", he insists sternly.

"Fine", you give in with a sigh, "it wasn’t my fault."

Taehyung squeezes you tenderly as a reward. He runs his fingers along your spine and sighs.

"Shall I heal your wounds?"

"What?" you lift your head.

"I could heal your wounds. You may not allow me to take the memories from you, but please allow me to at least heal your wounded body."

"You can do that?"

He nods his head, "you know that my blood heals. Just one drop, sweetest. That is all you would need. One drop. Please."

You study him. His face is contorted in desperation, his eyes glassy and filled with guilt. You know that he still feels guilty for what had happened to you, that his mind is still plagued with accusations of his own and that his heart still aches. And you know that this is his attempt to lessen that guilt. You want to help him with that.

"Yes, okay. Please heal me", you allow him.

Taehyung lets out a breathy laugh, grasping your face between his shaking hands.

"Thank you, oh darling. My sweetest darling", he kisses your forehead and sobs softly, "thank you."

"Don't thank me too soon, you still have to show me just how well your magic blood works", you joke.

Taehyung chuckles, nodding his head vigorously.

"I will, I promise you. I will."

You watch him as he works. He sits up and reaches for your empty glass. Then he allows his fangs to come to light. He lifts his arm, connecting his mouth with his wrist. He bites himself, doing so with a soft groan of discomfort.

"Oh dear. Does it hurt?" you gasp, sitting up yourself.

Taehyung lets go of his wrist. Blood trickles from it into the glass. It is darker than human blood. Almost black and a lot thicker as well.

"It does, but I don’t mind", he tells you.

The trickling stops. His wounds have healed again. He scoots closer then, placing his hand on your thigh.

"This will taste unlike anything you have ever tasted before. It will hurt, it truly will, but you must swallow it for it only works that way."

You accept the glass, eyeing the black liquid.

"It will hurt?"

"Yes, it will burn. As if you swallowed acid and fire all at the same time."

"Okay...and if I drink it will I become like you? A vampire?"

He shakes his head, "you would have to die to activate the magic. My blood will stay in your body for three days, you will feel more energetic during those days and you will see your wounds and aches heal faster. But it is important to stay alive during those days or else you will become just like me."

"I see...it's like a magical medicine that comes with a big side effect."

He laughs softly, eyes filling with warmth.

"Yes, one could say it like that."

You guide it closer to your lips, "will it hurt for long?"

"Just a few minutes", he says and holds your hand.

"Okay, here goes nothing", you say and down the liquid.

Taehyung did not lie. This burns so much that you feel yourself squeezing his hand and whimpering in pain. You swallow it barely, opening your mouth widely to fan air into it.

"What the crap? Holy moly", you groan, sticking your tongue out.

"I know, it's terrible, but it will pass. I promise, just hold on for a little while longer."

You wheeze. You can feel it in your stomach. It lies in it heavily, burning through your skin.

"I think it's dissolving my stomach. Ouchies."

Taehyung touches your tummy, rubbing it gently.

"This is just it entering your bloodstream through your gastric walls, you'll be alright. You're doing very well. So very well."

You grunt, swallowing down your saliva. It had collected in your mouth and made talking impossible.

Taehyung lifts the little silver bowl, "look my darling."

You stare at your own face in the distorted reflections. Your wounds. They are healing! They become less and less visible until only your memory lets you know where they once lingered.

"This is remarkable", you whisper, touching your eye, which seconds ago was bruised, "it's like it was never there."

You gasp then, ripping the bandaid from your elbow. Nothing. Your wound is gone.

"It's gone! And it doesn’t hurt anymore!" you exclaim, touching the part which seconds ago had ached and burned.

Taehyung smiles, "see? I was able to help."

"Yes you were. Taehyung, thank you. I didn’t want to tell you, but it hurt so much. But now it doesn’t anymore."

He visibly fights with his tears. He presses out a soft hum and smiles, "I'm relieved", he mouths.

You inspect your face in the bowl one last time and run your finger over your elbow. The memory of the round room is already so much easier to bear now that the visible proof is gone.

"It is peculiar however", you begin, "drinking your blood felt exactly how the electrolyte smoothie of Hoseok felt."

"That is because it was spiced with his blood. He healed your neck with it."

"My neck?" you ask, touching it, "what about my neck?"

Taehyung furrows his brows, "Jimin...he bit you and erased your memories of it. Hoseok saved you."

"Holy shit", you shiver in fear, "Taehyung, you have awful friends."

"I know", his lower lip trembles, "they are so terrible."

"Tae, hey. Why are you crying again? What happened? Did they hurt you? Jimin was really mad at you at the ball. Did he hurt you?"

"I was able to handle it", he presses out, rubbing at his eyes, "please forgive me, I just-", he sniffles, "-I can’t stop thinking about my dream."

"Your dream? What happened in your dream?"

"You left me", he hugs you so tightly that breathing gets a little harder, "they killed you. You were dead and I was all alone. My sweetest please never ever leave me that way."

"Oh Tae…." you whisper, hugging him back tightly, "...lucky for you I am like a tick. I'm here to stick to you."

He chuckles, masking a sob with it. You giggle, giving his butt a soft pat.

"It was just a dream, I’m planning on not dying for a very long time."

He lifts his head and smiles at you.

"Thank you", he whispers.

You retort his smile.

"I have a present for you, sweetest", he says then.

"A present?"

He nods his head and rolls out of bed to hurry to his dresser at the far end of his spacious room. You think it most peculiar that you and him have reached a point in your relationship that you can walk around naked so comfortably. It feels great and so intimate.

His present is small enough that he can carry it in his palm. He sits down beside you and as the urge to be closer to him overcomes you, you decide to climb on his lap. Taehyung looks at you with big eyes before smiling fondly.

"Are you comfortable?" he asks you, caressing your lower back.

"Yes", you say smiling, hooking your arms behind his neck.

"I am glad", he smiles then looks down at his palm.

You do the same, "what do you have for me?"

He opens his palm, revealing a delicate glass vial to your eyes. A beautiful pattern of detailed flowers was on its surface and a thin golden necklace made it wearable.

"That's beautiful, wow", you gasp.

"I found this on one of my journeys back in the late 1830s. It is a tear vial which was used by mourners to collect their tears after a loved one passed."

"Oooh creepy."

"They would collect their tears for a year and then sprinkle the collected tears on their dead one's grave to celebrate their painful success of living without them."

"Okay, that’s a little sad."

He nods his head in agreement and then goes to bite his finger.

"Oh Tae! What are you doing?" you gasp, watching him press his finger to the opening of the vial.

Dark blood fills the delicate vial. It stops right before it would spill over. Taehyung closes it tightly.

"I want you to have this", he says, pressing the vial into your hand.

"Taehyung...I can’t accept this."

"Yes, you can. Please ___ it would lessen my worry. Carry it with you and if you ever find yourself in a dangerous situation, I want you to use it. Please."

You eye his hands and how he is grasping your own. You study his features and how they are tense in worry. You look into his eyes and how they burn in desperation.

"It would mean a lot to you, wouldn’t it?" you ask him.

"Yes, it means a lot to me", he confirms, giving your hands a tender squeeze, "I can't protect you all the time, but at least like this I can make sure that you survive, even when I am not physically here to save you."

You give him a smile, "thank you Taehyung. I will cherish your present with all my heart", you say, guiding his hands to your lips to kiss his knuckles.

He exhales shakily at the feeling, widening his eyes in sparkling adoration. You kiss his knuckles a second time, giving him a playful smile.

He looks so hypnotised, leaning in closer to you and with a shy giggle rumbling in the back of his throat. He even tilts his head up so he could be closer to your lips, lifting his shoulders to his ears as he does.

"What?" you ask him.

"I have never received a hand kiss before", he whispers, showing off his teeth in a boxy smile.

"Oh? Well I-", kiss, "-am-", kiss, "-here-", kiss, "-to give you many and many", kiss.

Taehyung giggles before letting out a very unflattering snort. You genuinely have never seen him that mesmerised before.

"That was a cute laugh", you say.

Taehyung laughs again, sparkling eyes racing over your face.

"You are so cute right now", you tell him.

He just laughs and smiles, tugging your hands to his face to rest his cheek on them. He closes his eyes and nuzzles you until his cheek is squished.

"I'm yours", he whispers, "with everything I have to offer, I am yours."

You understand what being loved feels like when you are with Taehyung. This is what it feels like. Warm. Certain. Safe. Like home.

You blink to get rid of your happy tears before you scoot up his lap. You wrap your arms around him, making him lift his head just enough so he could rest his chin on your shoulder. You nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder.

"I'm sorry for ever doubting your sincerity", you tell him.

"It's forgiven."

Taehyung turns his head and begins kissing your neck. You sigh, melting in his embrace. Moments like these, you wish to last forever. You and him embracing each other while the world around you continues to age. This is what life is truly about.

Taehyung changes the position of his head, resting his cheek on your shoulder while his nose is buried in the crook of your neck. You hear the soft sniffle he lets out and feel the wet path his tear leaves on your skin.

“Are you crying again?” you ask him in a whisper.

He nods his head.

“Tae, gosh”, you hug him tighter, “don’t cry, it was just a bad dream.”

“It’s not that”, he whispers.

“Well, what else?”

“I just-“, his lower lip trembles, “-I’m so grateful for you”, he presses out and sobs softly. He cradles you in his strong arms, “I have never felt so much for someone.”

“Oh Tae.”

“And, and it makes me c-cry because it’s overwhelming me”, he stutters.

“Oh Taehyung”, you whisper, petting his hair, “don’t cry, it’s okay.”

Taehyung traces your spine, rubbing the tip of his nose over your neck a few times before lifting his head. His eyes are so red and glassy, but filled with so much adoration. He smiles at you and you retort it.

“Thank you so much.”

“For what?”

“For coming into my life.”

"Oh Tae…" you whisper before kissing him in gratefulness. You want to thank him too, for giving you so much love that loving yourself is starting to be an easy task to do.

578 notes · View notes

adorerdraco · 4 years

Text

Whole Lot of Red ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: Sneaky meet ups with Draco where nobody knows the two of you have a thing for the other until the day he sees someone flirting with you and lets his jealousy get the best of him. AU where its around seventh year and Voldermort never existed so Draco never got traumatized !

Warnings: light smut/hinted smut, jealous/possessive-ish Draco, a little more mature themes

Words: 1.8K

A/N: aging him UP for this one ! and making draco a tad rude bc the way i picture it is just WOW also i like to try to change up the way i write him sometimes :) also couldn’t find this gif anywhere so if it looks low quality its bc i made it >:( i want so badly for him to walk up to me like thaaaat anyways I HOPE THIS IS GOOD

It was a funny thing, feelings, and the way they blossomed in places they had no business being in. Those very specific stomach churning butterflies and skipped heartbeats were unmistakably there every time you found yourself in the Slytherin Prince’s presence. It was a shame really, you had never even given him the time of day prior to the time you were forced to work on a Charms project together but now here you were; completely and undeniably entranced by him.

Your group of y/h friends and you were gathered in the foyer outside the Great Hall, the doors wide open and welcoming students for the lunch that was going to be served in just a few minutes. Your friends were lost in conversation and you couldn’t be happier as your focus darted around the room hoping to spot the platinum mop of hair.

Out of sheer coincidence, a boisterous group of Slytherins had entered the foyer from the direction of the dungeons, all talking loudly and jokingly pushing each other as they came into view. Your eyes landed on the laughing blond in the middle, his toothy grin almost twinkling under the sunlight that streamed in through the large medieval windows. His gaze wandered around the room for a moment before stopping on you, the smile on his face morphing into a smug knowing smirk.

A shivering weakness shot up your legs, your heart doing somersaults in your stomach as you recalled the previous night. It involved you sneaking out of the common room to meet Draco in a dark and hidden corner of the castle in the dead hours of night, his Prefect duties long finished and a looming fear of getting caught by Filch. It was you being backed into said corner, his body flush against your quivering one, a strong hand clamped tightly over your mouth to muffle the whimpers that unwillingly left your mouth as his lips left trails of wet kisses along the exposed skin of your neck and chest. It was his knee in between your legs, pushing you harder against the wall as your hands got tangled in his hair while he held your face in place by your jaw, whispering compliments and desires into your ear with kisses to it in between, smiling coyly to himself when he heard the small gasps of pleasure coming from you.

All this was because of a simple charms project, the two of you forced to spend a couple weeks together where it was constant bickering and malicious teasing until the tension between the two of you had gotten so overwhelmingly strong it was suffocating. It had gotten so unbearable that one day, Draco finally had enough as you were reading something out of your textbook for him, suddenly knocking it out of your hands and scooting closer to you on the shared bench, his minty breath hot against your face and darkening gray eyes flickering from your lips to your widened e/c’s as he whispered a breathless, “can I kiss you?”

Post study make out sessions quickly turned into sneaking away from friends throughout the day which finally led into slipping out of common rooms to meet at night. No one ever noticed nor caught on to the two of you, the both of you keeping it a secret so you wouldn’t have to deal with people’s undesired two cents.

As much as you enjoyed the hands on affection, you found yourself liking the intimacy afterwards even more. You looked forward to sitting down somewhere with him, his arms wrapped warmly around your body as you asked about each other’s day that branched out into talking about anything and everything. You would skip back to your room afterwards, smiling from ear to ear with your head in the clouds until one day it dawned on you; you were in a sticky situation of constantly wondering “what are we?”

You never dared to ask him though, terrified of his answer and that he would leave you in the dust for even bringing it up. In all your years at Hogwarts, you’ve never seen Draco with a girlfriend, he was the most well-known boy at school, an arrogant and proud Slytherin, a skilled quidditch seeker, and an irresistible flirt. But never having the title of ‘the boyfriend’, despite the countless girls that hung off his arms nearly begging for his attention.

“Y/N,” your friend broke you out of your thoughts, a sly smile on her face as she elbowed your side. “Your little friend is headed this way.”

You looked at her in confusion, turning your attention towards the tall Gryffindor, Trevor, that was walking towards your small group, a bright smile on his face as his eyes stayed trained on you. Your friends giggled teasingly, already knowing what his presence would ensue. He was nice, but annoying as he relentlessly flirted with you every time you had your Transfigurations class with him. You just chose to ignore him even though he always ended up sitting next to you or around you no matter how many times you moved. He was someone who you complained restlessly about to your group which caused them to laugh and poke fun every time he would come up to you around them.

“Y/L/N!” He said happily, attempting to give you a hug as he came up to you which you only begrudgingly returned with a lazy side hug. He took your hand, leading you a few feet away from your group so he could talk to you privately. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet up at the library after lunch to study for our test later this week?”

“Oh,” you trailed off, trying to come up with an excuse but in the midst of your thoughts you remembered you had already made plans with Draco. Speaking of, you had forgotten he was only across the room, unbeknownst to you that he was staring hard at you and your classmate. “I’m busy today.”

“How about after tomorrow?” He asked again hopefully. “We can even go to Hogsmeade after, butterbeers on me!”

You frowned slightly, knowing that this was not a friendly collegiate conversation, but another ploy to try and get you to go out with him. His attempts were increasing week by week and you denied him every single time yet he never got the hint.

“Still busy,” you smiled at him, hoping that if you were to appear nice, it would soften the continuous blow of rejection.

“I’m not going to stop asking until you say yes,” he sighs, hands slipping into the pockets of his robe as he longingly looked down at you. “You might as well give in.”

His hand came up towards your hair, a skinny finger brushing through a strand of your hair as he pulled a small fluff of lint from your robes before flicking it into the air. You stood frozen in place, the gesture being painstakingly too much for your comfort and borderline creepy coming from him.

Draco felt himself shake with anger, the sight of you smiling at the Gryffindor and that he was running his fingers through your hair made his blood boil. Greeting the git with a hug. You being led away from your friends by your hand. He hated the sight. The thought of any man other than him being so close to you made him feel sick to his stomach, a rage sparking from deep within him he never even knew existed. He watched as you looked up at the boy above you, a weird expression on your face that instantly let him know you were uncomfortable.

That was it for him. He was seeing red as he threw his schoolbooks into Crabbe’s hands, pushing aggressively past a pair of boys that were in his way as he power walked towards you and your classmate.

“Didn’t you ever learn to keep your hands to yourself?” Draco called out condescendingly in his haughty accent, his scowl deepening as he approached. Trevor’s head snapped towards Draco, a frown etching itself onto his face.

“Sod off, Malfoy,” Trevor sneered. “Go find someone else to bother.”

“Take your own advice, filth,” Draco shot back.

“Filth? You’re one to talk,” the Gryffindor chortled. By now, everyone within a few feet of the debacle was watching, entertained at the argument that was beginning to unfold, your friends and Draco’s goons staring oddly at the encounter. You only stood there, looking between both boys towering over you in a daze that left you paralyzed in your spot. You were so close to telling off Trevor before Draco came, feeling grateful at your delayed reaction now that he was there defending you.

“I’m not going to ask you again,” Draco threatened, stepping in between you and Trevor as he spoke. “Leave Y/N alone, or I swear you’ll regret it.”

“Why? You think she’d pick you over me?” He snickered. “We’ll see who’s the one feeling regretful when you find her making that decision.”

By now, Trevor had stepped up to the spiteful Slytherin, getting in his face with a patronizing smile. Draco’s face twisted up in anger as his temper got worse, shoving his competition back with the side of his forearm, feeling satisfied when Trevor stumbled back.

“Funny,” he laughed darkly, “I seem to remember her already making that decision every single day while we’re snogging.”

Multiple gasps can be heard throughout the foyer, including your own as you gaped up at the blond, his eyes staying focused on Trevor as he looked taken aback.

“You trying to say she’s your girlfriend?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Your legs nearly gave out below you at his response. This was everything you had been hoping for recently, except not like this. But that still didn’t stop you from feeling giddy, however, the bliss of his revelation filling your entire body with glee. The ‘what are we?’ question being ripped from your mind with relief.

“Is that true?” Trevor asks you, a devastated look glazing over his eyes as you slowly nodded. He gives Draco one more pointed look, bumping shoulders with him before he stalked off into the Great Hall in a rush, everyone scattering around to go inside as well now that the show was over.

Draco turned to peer down at you, fury draining from his body as he admired you. He cupped your cheek, leaning down and placing a soft kiss on the opposite side of your face before whispering hotly into your ear.

“If he tries anything with you again, let me know and I swear I’ll deal with him,” he pulls back from you, smiling at you innocently. “I’ll see you later, darling.”

And with that, he sends you a wink, turning around to saunter over to his eager minions while your friends immediately rush towards you with a million questions that you would inevitably have to answer. This was not at all how you expected the day to turn out, not in the slightest.

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slytherbun · 3 years

Text

wildflower

pairing: cedric diggory x hufflepuff!reader

summary: you weren't too sure what to think when a new eye candy transfers to hogwarts and becomes the new seeker of the hufflepuff's quidditch team but you realize in time that he is all of what you hoped for.

word count: 3.7k

tags: @specialagentsoftie

note: so this is all just a bunch fluff. i'm not sure how i feel about it in terms of cringey and hope y'all like it! figured i'd post this anyways either way though lol. i made up the way reader and cedric met at hogwarts so, it's non-canon from the movie.

another note: italics are flashbacks! :)

it was cold.

you could see everybody’s breath in the air outside and knew it was a crime to be out and about now with freezing and chilly weather.

the snow outside coated the ground by inches and the black coats zippered up and wrapped around you only helped so much. you were the type to freeze easily and the climate at hogwarts didn't help your situation at all.

minutes ago before you walked outside, you knocked on the door to his dorm after surveying the hufflepuff’s common room and noticed there weren't very many people around. and when cedric opened the door after you rapped on it a few times—he took in the view of your body wrapped around your blanket before pulling you into his room.

pathetically enough, you were shivering in the halls even with your mitten covered hands stuffed in the pockets of your coat. you weren't about to admit the doubled up socks on each of your feet either underneath the knee-length boots you wore today.

"are you cold?" cedric successfully taunted you when you reached your arm out of the pocket of your jacket and then under the blanket to slap his arm. he hissed and glared your way playfully while rubbing his arm dramatically.

you shrugged with a smirk on your lips and he plopped down onto his soft bed. “don’t get too comfortable.” he suggested when noticing you trying to sneakily get underneath his covers.

“what i’d do for one of those thermal blankets the muggles use.” you sighed dreamingly while watching him walk towards his closet.

“imagine having a postal company deliver the package to hogwarts? dumbledore would have an aneurysm.” cedric replied and you couldn’t help yourself when imagining the scenario playing out in your mind.

he turned to the side to admire your smile while you were a little distracted while pulling out a coat. then he closed the closet up and walked back over, holding it in your direction to offer an extra to put over your body. you gladly took it with a smile. "thanks ced."

cedric backed up a few steps and brushed a hand through his brunette hair. not being able to help himself he joked, “can’t have you walking around with your blanket wrapped around you. your height already makes you look so adorable.”

you got off from the bed when he exaggerated with your blanket in hand and scoffed. cedric bit his lip nervously while continuing to back up before he felt the wall pressed against him.

he rubbed the back of his nervously while you held the blanket up to his height and above your own head. “i’m just kidding.” he gulped before you took it and put it over his face.

when he tugged it down from his face he spotted you innocently standing by the door with his jacket around you. “i was going to leave it here anyway. just put it on the bed and i’ll come get it later after we get back.”

while you zippered it up you noticed this particular jacket was the one that you often saw him wearing before he ended up buying a new one for the upcoming winter that you were suffering in now.

and it was longer than the one you had previously put on about twenty minutes ago so, you couldn't argue with him on that steal.

"alright.” he laughed and added with a more serious tone. “oh and by the way—you don't need to thank me. you're my best friend, wildflower."

today was the first quidditch match of the season and you were sitting at the edge of your seat in anticipation. the hufflepuffs didn't score well last season and you were hoping they wouldn't come out with last place again for the year.

y/g/b/f (your girl best friend) sat down on the stands next to you with an umbrella in her hands. you turned and looked at it with a confused face. but she just smiled at your contemplating thoughts and looked up at the sky once before supplying you with an answer.

“well it looks bright now but i have a feeling it’ll rain later.” she always had a suspicion for when it was going to rain or snow and you never second guessed her because every single time she was right.

“did you know we’re having a new seeker play on the team today? i believe he’s going to be captain too if he plays his cards right this game.” she asked. you didn’t know that.

“wait is he the new guy everybody is talking about? i heard the rumors but you know how they are. i didn’t want to take it seriously until i saw it with my own eyes.” you stated and she nodded.

“yeah he’s a transfer i think but i’m not too sure. his name is cedric diggory though.” after her reply, you glanced around the stands to see if anybody had diggory signs for the game but with no avail you sighed. before you could respond you felt a few droplets on your shoulder.

your friend gave you a smart-ass grin and popped out the umbrella to hold it over the both of you. “guess we’ll see how good he is.” you mumbled before seeing the players come up to the playing area with their brooms.

butterbeer was pretty popular during the winter season. many students from school usually went and got some to help regulate their body temperature and keep warm.

everybody else must have gotten the same memo because you were inside the three broomsticks now for some butterbeer and it was crowded.

almost every table was filled with peers and that’s probably why you didn’t see many people in the school. with just one glance around the area, you could already tell the divided area’s of where each school was seated right away.

your tables were to the left area, the slytherins must have come earlier because they grabbed the back ones, some of the ravenclaw’s were off to the right, while harry and the other gryffindor’s had the middle area.

cedric nudged your side to grab your attention and nodded towards the hufflepuff area. “want to grab us some seats and i’ll get the drinks?” he asked and you nodded. “sure, could you get me a snack too if you don’t mind?”

he smiled and tucked his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “i suppose i could.” cedric walked away with a wink and you shook your head knowing he was just humoring you.

little did you know he already had planned to get you something else even before the two of you left the dorms. it had gotten to the point where asking him for little things hadn’t bothered you because you reciprocated all of the time.

but sometimes cedric would give you little excuses when it was your turn to pay, just so he could end up paying for whatever you guys were having or getting. he always spoiled you.

"ah the golden girl is here." hermione scoffed and watched you walk towards the hufflepuff area. your other best friend was seated already and started talking to you when you sat.

the brunette from the red colored house didn't particularly dislike you since you were always nice. sometimes you chatted with her while working on a project that you were paired for. then other times you gave her a soft smile when catching her eye while walking in the halls towards your next class.

she definitely couldn’t help but respect and admire you.

but the reason she didn’t put herself out there and try to befriend you was because you were one of the girls known in school for your smartness, quick reflexes, and witty attitude.

when people from school talked about you and referred to you as the golden girl instead of your name most of the time—it wasn’t that you were golden per-say but the fact that it matched up perfectly with the school’s color that you sorted it.

hufflepuff was known for its represented yellow color.

and there’s no doubt about it that hermione was also known around the school. but, she felt it was for all of the wrong reasons. despite not having it any other way as one of harry's best friends, she wondered if not for him that in an alternate lifetime that she would be you.

“why is she wearing cedrics jacket?” ron asked after following hermione’s stare. harry thumped him on the back of his head and then shook his own. “why does it matter?” the one with a thunderbolt on his forehead replied.

“well it is interesting, isn’t it?” the brunette said in defense of ron’s question. the one who didn’t seem curious at all took a sip of the butterbeer in front of him.

he licked his lips, thinking then replied to them with a response. “i mean it’s not our business but it is an odd find now that you pointed it out. maybe he’s just being friendly?”

“as if! cedric has had a crush on y/n since he met her. she’s just oblivious to it all,” she paused and tapped her chin. “—or is she?” ron gasped at her accusation but took a sip of his own drink before she could hear his outburst.

harry noticed her getting riled up once again and sighed. “well i don’t know what else to say. maybe you should just introduce yourself already and ask her instead of me.” he shrugged and hoped to end the conversation there.

you knew exactly who cedric diggory was when he swiftly passed by the hufflepuff area during the game. of course, he was wearing yellow.

the game has been going on for a decent amount of time now and he was stacking up the scores on the quidditch board—easily passing by the score of the gryffindor’s team.

cedric was undoubtedly the new eye candy for the whole school with the gasps and ‘awes’ from the other girls sitting in the stand. your friend was so busy watching harry that she didn’t catch the commotion.

you didn’t really pay attention to him to get a good glance at his face so, you thought he was just another arrogant rich boy and rolled your eyes.

what you didn’t notice was the way it was like a slow-motion love at first sight situation for him when he went by. since it stopped raining through the middle of the game he was able to catch a quick view of you.

the week wasn’t done yet so it was possible he’d be seeing more of you in another class he hadn’t had yet. and cedric hoped you were because he couldn’t help but look over in your direction throughout the game to catch another glimpse of your face.

it was still humid outside and you tried wiping your makeup a few minutes ago since it was under your eyes now, but you only smudged it further. your robe was drenched with your wavy and half-dried hair now lying down the back of it.

but he didn’t care what you thought about yourself because he knew without a doubt that you were the prettiest girl there.

“cedric’s looking pretty good today.” y/g/b/f voiced for the first time today. you played with the napkin in your hand while trying to get a glimpse of cedric.

“i don’t think you would know even if he was—since you spend all your time looking at harry.” cedric was up to the counter now waiting for your butterbeer and food.

“uh huh. don’t think i haven’t admired cedric before from afar though.” after a moment of not answering her, y/g/b/f noticed that you weren’t paying attention. you knew exactly what she was hinting towards.

cedric did look good.

his hair had that ‘just woken up’ style to it and he always managed to look even more attractive then he should have. the yellow scarf wrapped around his neck was the one that came with every hufflepuff’s supplied uniform clothing.

he usually wore it when you sat with him in potions on a chilly morning and you caught yourself wanting to take it off of him and wear it sometimes.

he always smelled good and it comforted you in ways a best friend shouldn’t have the ability to.

you seemed to have let your guard down and stared longer then you should have which confirmed what y/g/b/f already knew. “i knew it!” she chuckled and stated more loudly than the last comment to snap you out of the zoned out state you were in.

“know what?” you asked while placing the napkin back down on your table.

cedric was reaching the table and you wanted the conversation to end quickly. you usually dragged out conversation topics like this so you had time to think of another one to distract her with. but, she always found a way to circle it back around again.

you had to shut it down before he could hear, already knowing exactly what she wanted to talk about again.

“i’ll tell you later before our curfew.” y/g/b/f smirked and you sighed knowing she would in fact take the time out of her night to find you before bed. lucky you.

“hey y/g/b/f. how has your day been?” he asked your other friend while sitting down and placing your refreshments in front of you and then doing the same with his.

she grinned at you then glanced over at him, “pretty good i guess if it wasn’t for this weather i would say great. how about you? and how’d you manage to get this one out?” she gestured towards you, causing you to roll your eyes.

here we go again.

you were walking down the path back to the hogwarts dorms with y/g/b/f and some others. there was going to be a small celebration in the hufflepuff’s common room and other students were trying to hurry back without raising suspicions with any professors nearby.

“hey, i’ll be right back y/n/n. i see luna and i’m going to go ask her if she has a hair tie.” she said and pointed to the curly knots that she had on her shoulders.

you nodded and continued along the path while she walked over to the other side. it was quiet for a moment and you surveyed the peaceful area, a few feet over in the grass was a small patch of flowers.

you were about to take a quick look at them before feeling someone tap your shoulder. it was sudden and you couldn’t help but quickly move to the side and form a fist. you were about to throw it but stopped when you stared wide-eyed at the person who scared you.

cedric felt awful and only after he startled you did he realize that you were looking off in the distance of the area. the way you jumped though seemed that you were quick on your feet and he couldn’t help but smirk at the new name he had for you.

“hey i’m sorry for startling you wildflower but i just wanted to introduce myself. i’m cedric diggory.” he introduced with a panty-dropping smile.

you weren’t sure if it was some kind of joke so you treaded carefully. “uh it’s okay, it’s my fault really for not paying attention but i’m y/n y/l/n. nice to meet you ced.”

cedric held out his hand for you to shake and you took it, giving him a firm shake. after you let go he smirked and questioned. “ced, huh?”

he crouched down to pick up a flower that you were looking at earlier and it reminded you to ask, “wildflower, huh?” you met his statement equally and folded your arms together so they were across your chest to look more tough.

his cheeks tinted a minor shade of pink and tried to hide his embarrassment by ducking down and ignoring your question. instead he glanced back up to tuck a hair behind your ear and then placed the flower there.

“yes, wildflower.”

and how could you argue with him when he was being so sweet?

the two of you made it back to the common room after an hour of eating, then chatting with cedric and your other best friend. he was sitting on the bed with you sitting next to him.

you’ve been sitting for only about a minute or so—only enough time to shrug off your jackets and place them on the desk chair between that time after walking back to his dorm.

“would you like to lay down for a few minutes?” cedric asked when he noticed the tiredness shown clear as day on your face.

“sure” you agreed and you laid down while he shook your blanket out for the two of you to use. his eyebrows scrunched together when he realized it wouldn’t make much of a difference in comfort with how small it was.

you chuckled watching him trying to maneuver it around and he glanced your way with a smirk of defeat. “hmm, seems this blanket is a little small. would you like to go under the covers?”

cedric was giving into what you wanted earlier before the two of you left and he knew that too. the three broomsticks' food was delicious as always and you just wanted to relax for a few minutes after getting teased by your friend.

he grinned watching you get comfortable after the both of you were situated under the sheets and yellow comforter. there was a hufflepuff patch ironed onto it and you rubbed your thumb over it while laying down.

it wasn’t that awkward since you’ve fallen asleep in his arms a couple of times before already. class exams were frustrating and took a lot out of the students so he took comfort in you and vice versa when there was some down time during the weekends throughout the school year.

with an arm around you—he pulled you close to the point where you could feel his warm breath along your neck. “i don’t think you realize how much i treasure these moments y/n/n.”

he spoke breathlessly and you gulped slowly. you were dumbfounded with how seriously he said that. as if it had some kind of hidden meaning behind it. “me too.” you agreed and wondered if he would leave it at that.

but you knew better and cedric never left well alone when he wanted to get a point across. he turned your body slowly with the arm he had around your middle and you faced him with confusion.

he glanced down once before looking back up and continued on with his confession while staring into your doe eyes—a color he deemed his favorite the day that he met you.

“i’ve been fighting myself for a while on whether or not i should tell you this because i didn’t want my feelings to ruin our friendship. i’d rather be your friend than not be a part of your life at all. and i always look forward to seeing you e-everyday.” he paused when his voice cracked.

after cedric cleared his throat he continued, “and i totally understand if you don’t share the same feelings with me but i just couldn’t go on another day without telling you how i—” you cut him off by leaning in and brushing your lips against his.

he moved closer on the bed, so his skin was touching yours. cedric wanted to get as close to you as he possibly could. your hand swept through his brunette curls and you surprised him by tugging it.

he never knew what you were going to do and his friends teased him that you were a wildcard, to which he’d correct them and say you were his wildflower.

cedric smirked into the kiss and you groaned knowing he was being a smart-ass. but in return, he shocked you when he placed a hand delicately on your cheek to cup it rather softly.

he rubbed your cheek while your hand massaged his curls and then moved them downwards to the nape of his neck.

cedric pushed the hair back from your neck with his hand and then placed it back so his thumb splayed across on your cheek in a loving gesture. and you only wanted him closer after feeling sensitive about the whole astonishment that still had you stunned to the core.

you tugged the collar of his shirt and he pulled away with puffy, red lips and a smile. “what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know, i’m just emotional.” you voiced squeakily and full of embarrassment about it. cedric shook his head and before patting his chest, he held up the comforter over the both of you and let the minimal cold air in.

“oh, baby it’s okay. come here and let's cuddle a little before curfew.”

you bit the bottom of your lip and nodded, giving him a smile in return to the one he gave you and then crawled onto him. “i think i like baby better.” you voiced and laid on his chest with your head over his heartbeat.

he let go of the comforter when he noticed you were settled and tugged it firmly around both of your bodies. “better then what?” he asked.

“wildflower.” you admitted and hummed nervously while awaiting his response. you felt cedric shake his head and he put his arms around your body so you were pressed firmly against him before he kissed your forehead.

“you’ll always be my wildflower.” you closed your eyes after giving him a quick kiss on the cheek in response.

after a moment of laying back down you could feel his chest rising up and down in an odd pattern so, you put your head up to see him laughing again at you.

“what now?” you questioned trying to keep a serious facial expression but failing when he grinned.

“guess you got what you wanted, hmm?” cedric said—referring to the fact that you were finally under the comforters and you smirked.

“of course i always do. including finally getting you, ced.”

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

Note

Aomine, kise, and Akashi with their s/o using their safe word? Maybe a short fic for each?

A/N: you got it (•̀ᴗ•́ )و …also please excuse my lack in creativity concerning the safeword, I sadly had no better and serious-sounding one than ‘RED’ .-. and I wrote this from a fem!reader’s perspective since I wasn’t sure which one you were referring to! Make sure to get back at me if you wanted it from a different perspective!! ♥️

Tags/Warnings: smut (18+!!) ✅ rough sex (in form of insufficient prep) ✅ ❚ overstimulation ✅ ❚ BDSM play ✅ shibari/bondage ✅ use of blindfold ✅ spanking ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Kise:

You knew that you should’ve insisted on talking with Kise.

The moment he came home you could already guess that something had happened and that his mood was down in the dumps. Usually, he would grin at you, hurriedly throw his shoes and jacket away, and then proceed to shower you with kisses, but today was different…

Today he’d come in and pretty much whispered that he was home, his movements were pretty sluggish, and even when you’d ran up to him the smile he gave you was barely noticeable. You were pretty quick in understanding that something had happened, so you immediately asked him about it, but he just shook his head in denial and reassured you that everything was alright and that you shouldn’t worry.

You decided to let it go for the time being and see how the evening played out, but unfortunately for you, there was no progress. Eventually, you decided to use your plan B: getting the truth out of him with sex.

He was one of those types that first needed some buttering up before they were ready to spill the beans and one of many ways - and the quickest - you succeeded in doing that was through bodily intimacy.

You had wrapped your arms around his neck from behind and started kissing his neck, whispering sweet nothings along his skin. It took a tad longer than usual for him to relax and indulge himself in your caresses, but things eventually took their course, and within a matter of minutes he’d taken over.

It felt amazingly good at first, the way his gentle hands roamed your body, exploring, experimenting, observing your reactions as he searched for your weak spots. The way your breath hitched when he began to play with your exposed nipples, paired with the slight tremble of your body as he let his fingers slide along your skin fired him up.

He’d soon gotten on top of you and while his mouth and tongue were busy pleasuring your chest’s sensitive buds, his fingers were preparing your lower body for what’s to follow…and that’s when it all went wrong.

Usually, he’d take his time to prepare you thoroughly with his fingers and his mouth. The way he enjoyed the slight thrashing of your body when he intentionally rubbed his fingertip against your g-spot never failed to make him smile proudly and your sweet moans when his tongue’s tip circled your puffy clit was the cherry on top. Next to making you feel good he also teased you occasionally. You like it like that, right? Hm? Is it here (Y/N)-cchi? You’re so cute you know that? You never told him, but his words never failed to increase the already intense pleasure you were receiving.

But today, after making out with you for a short while, he’d laid you down on your bed, raised your shirt up, freeing your breasts that he then kissed and pinched a few times before shifting his attention to your lower body. Once your panties were off you watched him lick two of his fingers and proceeded to stretch you, only problem was that after what felt like half a minute he pulled back and began unbuttoning his jeans, seemingly ready to move on.

You tensed up a little and tried to analyze the meaning of his rather absentminded facial expression. Many thoughts crossed your mind, such as him planning on having dry sex with you or just using his cock to get you wetter, but as soon as you felt his tip against your entrance, your mind went blank.

One of your hands stretched out towards the young man’s chest, planning on pushing him back a little, but a sharp pain made you freeze up on the spot. With wide eyes and a slightly open mouth, you looked up at the ceiling as you felt the painful way your walls were being stretched apart. Your free hand took a tight grip on the bed sheets, while the one on Kise’s chest ended up scratching his skin and even managed to draw some blood. All of these wordless pleas went unnoticed, your boyfriend’s attention was elsewhere but despite that, he didn’t stop thrusting his hips back and forth.

The pain gradually faded away but didn’t disappear completely and slowly but surely it became unbearable for you. Despite wanting to groan in pain, you bit the inner side of your cheek and began stuttering: “R-Ryou, wait please!”

Your voice was hoarse and slightly raspy from forcing back your pained moans so it barely managed to reach the young man’s ears. After vainly trying for a few more times you needed to resort to more drastic measures, so you moved both of your hands up to Kise’s face, taking a tight hold of his cheeks.

“Kise Ryouta! Red!”

The combination of his full name and the safeword both of you had agreed upon just in case, finally succeeded in catching his attention.

His eyes widened slowly as he realized what was going on. You're tensed up and slightly sweaty body beneath him, the pulsating pain in his chest, the almost painful tightness of your rather dry walls, and the most agonizing image for him: your pale face and slightly reddened lips.

Panic contorted his earlier calm facial features and he immediately pulled out, causing you to hiss at this unexpected motion.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)-cchi, I-I’m so so sorry, I–…god…h-how could this happen? W-What did I…what did I d-do?”

The tremble in his voice caused him to stutter as his shaking hands ran along your body in order to make sure that he hadn’t hurt you in any other way. His fingertips barely made contact with your skin, because he was afraid of touching you in some kind of way that could harm you any further. It was obvious that your usage of the safeword had shaken him up, even more than you’d expected, but this was your only option at that time…

With a sad smile, you took his hands in yours, brought them up to your lips, and kissed his knuckles, the sudden gesture making him flinch.

“Ryouta…do I now have your attention?” you softly asked, your kind tone moving him to tears as he ever so carefully embraced you and started apologizing multiple times. The earlier pain might not have been completely gone, but that was secondary, now you caressed the blond head that was buried in the crack of your neck, wet tears dripping down from your collarbone to your chest. In between your lover’s sobs you silently reassured and lectured him about how he shouldn’t go along with your antics if he wasn’t up for it.

When Kise had calmed down he finally raised his head to face you, his snotty and tear-stained face making you smile, as he once again begged for your forgiveness, promising you that the next time his mood was off he’d talk to you about it instead of bottling it up. Knowing that he was a man of his words you nodded proudly and gave his lips a tender kiss.

“Now then…ready for a second attempt?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Aomine:

Being Aomine’s lover was like a rollercoaster ride, at times he could be the person of your dreams while on others he was an unbearable asshole. Even though his attitude managed to make you see red ever so often, it also made your sexual life spicier.

He was a beast in bed, who managed to push you beyond your limits every single time. There was no such thing as can’t for him.

You can’t get into a certain position? He’ll make sure to mold your body into the position he wants you to be, regardless of how flexible you are or aren’t.

You can’t take his teasing anymore and want him to penetrate you? Sorry sweetheart but you’ll have to wait until he’s up for it and until then you’re free to beg and whine about it, providing him with further music to his ears.

You can’t hold your orgasm back any longer and want to cum? Telling him that is a bad move really because the moment he hears that he’ll grin to himself and stop all movements, wait for your body to calm down despite your numerous pleas, and resume only when he’s confident that you’re far away from reaching your high.

And it was precisely because of these past experiences that the two of you had agreed upon a safeword that you were to use only when things went too far. Both you and Aomine were confident that such a time wouldn’t come, until today…

While you were folding the laundry, your lover was in the kitchen, finishing up the dishes you’d more or less had to force him to do. Upon remembering his pouty face you couldn’t help but giggle to yourself, not noticing the tall young man creep up behind you with a mischievous grin.

“Got you!” he called out as he wrapped his arms around your body and pressed himself towards your back. You were caught off guard for a split second but decided to indulge his playfulness as a ‘reward’ for doing the dishes, but your lover unexpectedly took your well-meant intention out of proportion…

“Daiki…w-wait!” you manage to stammer out, your shaky hand gently slapping against the back of the bigger hand that’s hooked around your rib cage. Without fulfilling your request the man behind you keeps the thrust of his hips steady, as he palms your left breast and kneads it.

His slightly chapped lips run along the slight curve of your neck and pepper it with sloppy kisses. You flinch as you feel his other hand slide down your body, heading straight for your clit, and without wasting another second, starts massaging it.

Your vision gets blurry as you feel his rough finger mercilessly draw circles on your already sensitive bud and your moans grow louder as he bottoms out deep inside of you, the slapping of his balls further amplifying the squelching noise echoing in the room. All you can do is cling to him as you feel the knot inside you slowly tightening and dreading to burst any second from all the ministrations.

“You gonna cum?” he asks in a low whisper while nibbling on your ear. You bite your lower lip and nod multiple times as you squeeze your eyes shut and ready yourself for your orgasm.

The moment your walls squeezed down on Aomine’s shaft it made him shudder in pleasure and groan out a silent that’s it as he slowed down his hips’ thrusts, letting you indulge in your orgasm. His deep blue eyes fondly observed the way your body twitched and the slight tremble of your thighs against his own made him tighten his grip around you. While you were still trying to recover from the intense wave of pleasure that had shaken you, you felt how your boyfriend’s cock hardened inside of you, but before you could call out to him, the man took a fistful of your hair and pushed your face down on the pile of folded clothes before you.

He resumed his earlier thrusting speed, but thanks to the slight change in positions he managed to hit the entrance to your womb every single time his hips collided with your soft behind. Truth be told, when Aomine saw you - the person he loved so much - cum that hard by his hands it flipped a switch inside of him. The young man was usually holding many of his kinks and desires back out of worry for the consequences they’d have on your body, but right now all these worries had disappeared and were replaced by a single thought.

I’ll give her an orgasm that will mess her up

You felt an enormous weight push your back further into the mattress, your legs were spread apart, pulled back, and trapped beneath muscular calves. Something told you that whatever was about to happen it wasn’t going to be pleasant, so before your lover began you reached back, searching for his hand and whispering out his name in a slightly trembling voice.

Whatever your intention was, it was completely ignored by your boyfriend, because the moment he heard the silent call of his name he began to downright fuck you as if there was no tomorrow. Your eyes widened at the fast speed at which you were spread apart and the way his body had pinned you to the bed provided you with further friction that made you tear up.

You wished you could say that it felt good, but that might have been the case on another day where you hadn’t cum as hard as you did a few minutes ago. Right now you were in pain. Every thrust forward made your stomach tense up painfully, while each graze of the bedsheets against your abused clit made you jump; you were just so sensitive from before that anything Aomine did, made you shudder and jump as if he was throwing ice-cold water at your burning skin.

Even when you loudly pleaded with him to wait or stop, he seemingly didn’t hear you and kept going. So with not much of a choice left, you tried pushing yourself back against him, your safeword escaping your lips. ”Aomine, stop! Red! Red!“

And just like that all of his movements seized almost immediately, the weight on your back was lifted in an instant, and you were carefully pulled up right into the man’s muscular arms. He didn’t have to say anything, the tight hold around your sore body was enough to get the message across.

You relaxed against his chest and let your head drop on his shoulder as you finally granted your body a well-deserved break from all the over-stimulation. Only when you felt better did you wrap your arms around him.

“…’m sorry (Y/N)” he mumbled against your head in an unusually regretful and pained tone. Having you use the safeword the two of you had agreed upon was something neither of you thought would happen and now that it did, it was quite shocking.

You closed your eyes and planted a soft kiss on his neck, your hand moving up to the back of his head and gently ruffled his slightly sweaty hair.

“It’s ok Daiki, just…just let me rest for a bit next time before going all out like that, ok?”

He leaned back to look into your eyes and sniffled silently, before nodding a few times and giving you a peck on the lips.

Akashi:

Being as perfectionistic as Akashi was in nearly everything proved to be good in certain situations, though truth be told, the young man had bettered himself and was now less hard on himself than before, mainly thanks to you.

In the first few months of your relationship with him, everything was going perfectly well, including your sexual life. He was very attentive and always listened to any worry or topic you had on your mind, not only that but he was also very quick to pick up whenever something didn’t sit well with you. The best example of such a moment was when you’d first started having sex with each other.

Everything was, as expected, perfect but as time went on you felt like something was missing. It just wasn’t enough, you thought and it took you a while to bring it up and when you finally did things turned out to be unexpectedly different.

“Just use the safeword whenever you feel like it’s becoming too much for you or when you’re uncomfortable or anything of that sort, ok?” he softly asks as he tightens the last knot of the red rope around your body, watching you nod in agreement.

The young man took a few steps back to admire his handiwork and deeply breathed in as he pulled out a thin black fabric from one of the shelves. His slender and slightly rough hands brought the fabric around your face and before robbing you of your vision completely, he wanted to confirm the safeword one last time.

“What do you say when you want me to stop?”

“…red” you answered in a silent but firm voice, your response earning you a gentle kiss on the nape of your neck before everything went dark.

The silence and darkness that surrounded you, made you so nervous that you could practically hear the way your heart thumped against your bosom. Your breathing quickened and caused the ropes to practically bore into your skin with each lift of your chest. When you felt the gentle hands of your beloved trail down your back it made goosebumps adorn your skin and you slightly shivered at the prickling sensation.

Just as you’d gotten used to it, the warmth left your back and with your heightened senses, you listened to the faint steps of the red-haired young man who yet again turned around to pull something out of the drawer once more. While Akashi was doing that you tried to get a better feel for the ropes that were constraining your movements, so you wiggled slightly.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to move around now did I?” you heard a low voice mutter behind you and before you could apologize you felt something cold hit your exposed butt. You yelped out in surprise and instinctively attempted to raise your hand to cover your mouth, but the ropes stopped you mid-movement, their rough structure leaving faint marks behind.

After that failed attempt you began to take slow but deep breaths, ignoring the tight feeling surrounding your body. That’s when you felt the object Akashi had spanked you with touch your back and trace your spine’s curve with the leathery surface.

“I trust you’ll behave so that I don’t have to do that again” he cooed next to your ear, kissing it gently while eagerly awaiting your response.

Being in control was nothing new to the young man and it usually didn’t mean much, but now that the person he loved was at the palm of his hands, leaving both their vision and body entirely to him gave him a new sense of power he’d never felt before. His hands were trembling with excitement and just the mere thought of all the possibilities that this little play had in store for you made the tent in his pants feel tighter than before.

Not receiving an answer for that short while during which he fantasized about the upcoming pleasure and sweet pain he’d provide you with, made him a tad impatient, so he brought his arm around your body and teasingly tugged on the knot between your breasts while his other hand lifted the black leather belt from your back and prepared for another spank.

“So you’re not going to answer, huh?”

spank

You tensed your muscles and bit your lower lip as you felt the object hit your buttocks for a second time, but instead of the same tingling sensation from before it hurt, and whenever the cold air around you made contact with your reddened skin it burned so bad that it knocked the air out of your lungs, leaving you behind panting and gasping for air.

Mentally you were still stuck at the first time he spanked you, his unexpected words and the surprising roughness he treated you with were still stuck in your mind.

Was that really the same Akashi who treated you like a delicate flower during your first few times? Did he use his entire strength or is he still holding back?

Question after question poured into your mind, but before you could speak one of them aloud you were slapped yet another time.

“You must be really feeling it if you’re defying me for that long”

N-No…i-it hurts

You clenched your fists and let your nails dig into the ropes around your hands to try and cope with the pain and the way he played with your nipples wasn’t helping.

“S-Sei…w-wait”

“Hm? What was that my dear? I think you might want to speak up a little, or else I won’t know what you want” he said in a playful tone, positioning the belt on your bruised skin.

“N-No, Seijuro please!” you begged, body thrashing around, disregarding the slight sting of the ropes. You felt his gentle arms protectively wrap around your body as he leaned his chin on your shoulders and said: “(Y/N)…we agreed on something, didn’t we?”

His voice was silent but carried a certain amount of sternness that made you freeze up and look down in shame. Through gritted teeth, you whispered out the safeword and remained motionless as your lover began removing the ropes around your body. Much to your surprise, they were tighter than expected, so the moment they were loose enough for removal, you felt your blood circulation resume its course without disruption, making you feel a little weak on your knees.

“It wasn’t that hard now was it, (Y/N)?” Akashi asked as he carefully removed your blindfold and walked around you, now facing you. He let his eyes glide up and down your body, regret distorting his facial features.

“I-I’m sorry Sei, I just…I didn’t want to back out because it wa–”

“You don’t have to apologize, I know” he interrupted and caressed your cheeks before finishing what he intended to tell you, “but I told you to use our safeword if something wasn’t to your liking, didn’t I?”

You nodded and apologized to him, but you were still not looking into his eyes, only when he lifted your chin with his finger did your eyes meet. With a small smile, he gave your lips a soft kiss and smiled. “Just make sure to speak up next time, ok? I’ll never be mad at you or anything if you do…this is why we agreed on a safeword after all, right?”

A wide grin adorned your lips as you nodded energetically a few times and wrapped your arms around the neck of your boyfriend, relieved and happy that you worked it out.

#knb scenarios #kuroko no basket smut #knb smut #kise smut #aomine smut #akashi smut #━𝙺𝙽𝙱 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Lao Nie and Nie Mingjue have a good day together and bond. What was their relationship like before the qi deviation?

Boys - ao3

“Two paths, hmm?” Lao Nie said, squinting at the road markers in front of him. “Well, I don’t see why we can’t go down this one to the right –”

“No.”

“No? Why not?”

“Because little uncle asked me not to let you meet any new dangerous women,” Nie Mingjue said, looking as serious as ever – only his little hands, swinging to the side, revealed that he was just a ten-year-old. Still a child, no matter how mature he tried to act. “And a place called the Springtime Ghost Valley sounds like it probably has dangerous women.”

“Hey,” Lao Nie protested mildly. “Who’s the father here, me or you?”

“If a-die wants a new wife, little uncle will find one that isn’t inclined to kill him.”

That sounded like a recitation.

“Then what’s even the point,” Lao Nie grumbled, and reached out to ruffle his son’s hair, enjoying how Nie Mingjue yelped when he did, glaring up at him with offended dignity.

In all honesty, Lao Nie had no idea how he’d ended up with a son as serious and sincere and earnest as Nie Mingjue – he himself hadn’t taken anything seriously in years. Probably it was his mother’s influence.

Now that was a woman.

Not that his foxy second wife hadn’t been woman enough to blow him away either…

Hmm.

Perhaps they had a point about his taste in women.

“How about men?” Lao Nie suggested. “If it really means so much to you, I could swear off of women entirely –”

“A-die.”

“Mm?”

“Leave Sect Leader Wen alone.”

Lao Nie cracked up.

Because Lao Nie was the father, however easy-going he might sometimes be, they ended up heading down the right-hand path regardless. They were supposed to be night-hunting, after all – it was the perfect bonding experience according to Jiwei, though Lao Nie suspected his saber of having selfish intentions there – and deliberately avoiding a place with ‘Ghost’ in the name was hardly appropriate for scions of a Great Sect like theirs.

Although the reference to springtime was admittedly a little worrisome.

If it turned out to be a brothel, with the ghost thing being just a clever if somewhat tonedeaf marketing ploy, Lao Nie was turning around and taking them both home at once. He wasn’t going to risk little Nie Mingjue turning out anything like that awful Jin Guangshan – or, nearly as bad, having to explain anything more about the joys of sex to those earnest little button eyes and dimpled cheeks with no time to prepare first. He still hadn’t recovered emotionally from the last few times Nie Mingjue had asked him a question like that.

When they finally reached the end of the path, turning a corner to behold a clearing that was probably completely ordinary during the daytime, Lao Nie found that he’d been both right and wrong.

“It’s a ghost brothel,” he marveled. He’d never seen anything like it in his life.

“Dangerous women,” Nie Mingjue reminded him.

“A-Jue! Let your father live a little!”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes.

Lao Nie virtuously ignored his slightly judgmental brat of a son. It wouldn’t do him that much harm to go visit for a while, with the risk of Jin Guangshan-ness being relatively minimal; they were ghosts, after all. It was the duty of every cultivator to fight against evil, wherever it lived, no matter its form –

“Fighting? Is that what it’s called?”

“Who taught you sarcasm?” Lao Nie asked, knowing perfectly well that the answer was himself. “I ought to smack them.”

Nie Mingjue crossed his arms over his chest and pouted at him. “Fine, it’s fighting, we’ll go fight them. Do you want me to start drawing ghost-repelling talismans?”

“Liberate first!” Lao Nie sang out. “Come on, let’s go see what they’re like – er, that is, I mean, see what grievances they have that are keeping them here, of course. There’s no harm in dangerous women. Just don’t let them eat your yang energy!”

“It’s not my yang energy that I’m worried about, a-die…”

The ghostly madame was an extraordinarily charming person and Lao Nie liked her at once.

Not liked her liked her – he’d fallen head over heels with both of his wives from the first word, and that hadn’t happened here – but still, conversing with her was an extraordinarily enjoyable way to spend time.

She was witty and clever, with a broad range of knowledge and a gift for keeping a conversation lively and exciting; she could meet every verbal riposte with ease, and looked utterly gorgeous and composed the entire time. Sure, she kept trying to lure Lao Nie into an orgy in which all of his yang energy would be slowly sucked out before his body was ripped to pieces and his bones cracked open so that the ghosts could consume the marrow within, but what a way to go, right?

Nie Mingjue spent his time making friends with the ghost prostitutes.

Lao Nie wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting.

Well, he supposed he’d been expected a range of things – anything from Nie Mingjue getting suckered in by one of the ghosts and needing to be rescued by his father to Nie Mingjue just pulling out his Baxia and trying to stab them because he felt offended by their existence. He wasn’texpecting his ghostly conversational partner to suddenly frown mid-sentence and say, “What is he talking to them about?”

Lao Nie turned his head slightly and started listening.

“– just because you’re a ghost doesn’t mean you have to work allthe time, surely,” Nie Mingjue was saying, completely serious and earnest in the way he so often was. Lao Nie’s son had in fact inherited his sense of humor, only it tended to be buried fairly deep down and make its way up to the surface in an understated way in the most unexpected times; the rest of the time, he was straightforward to a fault, treating everything sincerely. “The birds in the trees, the animals in the fields – even among prostitutes, even the street-walking ladies know they need to take time to rest! I can’t believe you really have to work every single night. How long has it been since you had a night off?”

The ghost prostitutes around him had contemplative looks on their faces.

“Isn’t the whole point of becoming a vengeful man-eating ghost that you have more power than regular humans? I don’t know, it kind of seems like a bad deal if you have even worse conditions after all that –”

“I’m sorry,” the ghostly madame said, looking irritated underneath all her carefully painted smiles. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment…”

Lao Nie had to bite his hand to keep from laughing out loud.

“I think we’ve all learned a valuable life lesson today,” Lao Nie announced.

Nie Mingjue was pouting again.

“I don’t think we did,” he said, sounding profoundly skeptical. A filial child like Nie Mingjue shouldn’t sound so skeptical of his beloved father’s words of wisdom, really; if Lao Nie wasn’t so heartless, he might be offended. Of course, the skepticism might have originated from the heartlessness, so it was all six of one, half a dozen of the other in the end. “Those poor ghost ladies! They were still fighting each other by the time we left!”

“I’ve never seen a ghost pull another ghost’s hair before,” Lao Nie conceded. It had been brilliant. “One day, someone’s going to figure out a more reliable way to use ghosts to fight ghosts, mark my words.”

“Isn’t that demonic cultivation?”

“Oh, sure,” Lao Nie said, still cheerful. “If whoever it is does too much of it, eventually it’ll build up into a backlash that’ll kill them in some grossly horrific manner. Probably ripped into pieces by the backlash. And that’s not even counting how they’d be ostracized and hunted by the cultivation world first! But still, imagine how exciting it’d be in the meantime!”

“A-die…”

Lao Nie patted Nie Mingjue on the head again, earning another glare. “Immortality is a lie, A-Jue. We’re all here for a short time, each and every one of us, and only the length determined by fate and man. All that matters is what we do with the time that we have, and whether we’ve used it well.”

“To fight against evil wherever it lives, no matter its form?”

“To leave the world a better place than when we entered it, and to let our memories linger in the hearts of those that love us,” Lao Nie said. “Fighting evil is the best way to accomplish the former, and living a good life the latter. And you might as well have a good time doing it, if you can! Everything else is just extra.”

Nie Mingjue thought about that for a moment. “And a-die likes to have second helpings of extras?”

That was true. Lao Nie was a man of prodigious appetites of all sorts.

Despite that, he protested, “That wasn’t the point I was trying to make. I was being serious for once.” Seeing Nie Mingjue’s skeptical look, he made a face. “I can be serious, sometimes!”

“Can you?”

“It’s been known to happen! A date written on a wall will be right once a year.”

“Not if the wall gets painted over.”

“Ouch,” Lao Nie said. “I don’t even understand the metaphor you’re making, and I’m still going ouch.”

“Uh-huh,” Nie Mingjue said, utterly unimpressed. “You know, if you wanted one of the ghost ladies to be Third Mother, you would’ve been better off with the one playing the qin, not the ghost madame. She was much more powerful.”

Lao Nie arched his eyebrows. “Was she?”

Nie Mingjue nodded. “She had claws like a lizard.”

Lao Nie tried to remember which one of them had been the ghost girl playing the qin. He couldn’t quite remember at first – the women there were all surpassingly lovely, almost to the point of over-saturation – and then suddenly an image came into view, a beauty with a veil and sharp sword-like eyebrows, leaning over the qin with the shining pearl hanging in the center of her forehead dipping down.

And, yes, claws like a lizard.

“Hmm,” Lao Nie said. “That might have been a dragon, actually. You should be careful of those, they’re tricky.”

They’ll rip you and three dozen other cultivators besides into more pieces than can be picked up without blinking an eye, he meant, and you won’t even know what hit you. Avoid at all costs.

“Oh,” Nie Mingjue said, blinking. “Oops.”

“…what do you mean, oops?”

“Nothing bad! If I’m not supposed to interact with her, does that mean I should go and give back the gift she gave me?”

“She gave you a – give me that,” Lao Nie said. “This instant.”

“But a-die, you said there’s no harm in dangerous women –”

“For me, you foolish child!”

“I suppose it’s fine,” Lao Nie finally concluded, having inspected the dragon pearl from all angles several times over. “I don’t know how you do this, A-Jue.”

“Do what?”

Lao Nie thought about how his foxy second wife had cooed over his eldest son with a (slightly disturbing) fervor that she otherwise reserved only for eating snacks, and how viciously she’d dealt with anyone who’d even thought of interfering with Nie Mingjue in any way. He was fairly sure he himself had only survived his second marriage on account of having such a charming son.

“Don’t worry about it,” he finally said, mostly because he wasn’t entirely sure how to explain – or if he even entirely understood. “Anyway, it’s nothing dangerous. Rather the contrary! Dragon pearls like this are given to baby dragons to protect them.”

Nie Mingjue frowned. “What feeds on baby dragons?”

“…I think it’s mostly to protect them from themselves,” Lao Nie said, feeling a little uncertain about it himself. “And if it’s not, I don’t think I want to know, to be perfectly honest. There’s fighting evil, which is only right, and then there’s suicide, which is a waste – a wise man should know how to judge the difference between them. Anyway, that wasn’t the point I was trying to make.”

“It wasn’t?”

“It wasn’t, and you aren’t allowed to start worrying about the fate of theoretical baby dragons – I forbid it.” Nie Mingjue scowled. He’d probably started worrying already. “My point was actually that a pearl like this is a remarkably powerful protective tool for cultivators – one of those things that can only be found by chance and not made. Keep this on you, and you’ll never have to fear your opponent in battle.”

Nie Mingjue looked thoughtful.

“What do you want to do with that pearl, anyway?” Lao Nie asked after they’d gotten home and split up just long enough to take a nice long relaxing bath and gobble down dinner. “Do you want to put it in the treasury?”

Nie Mingjue blinked twice, which for him was practically the same as looking terribly shifty-eyed.

“You already did something with it,” Lao Nie deduced. “Something that isn’t using it as intended.”

“Oh, no,” Nie Mingjue said, looking shocked at the mere suggestion. “I’m definitely using it as intended.”

Lao Nie looked him up and down. “You’re not wearing it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t use it. Protection from your opponents in proper battle – that seems like cheating!”

Lao Nie felt a slight headache coming on. People who said they wanted a good boy for a son had no idea what they were getting themselves into, he reflected. Why couldn’t he have birthed a complete rascal instead?

“All right,” he said, instead of saying any of that because at the end of the day, bewildering as he might be, Nie Mingjue was his son and he loved him more than anything. “So what did you do with it?”

“I gave it to Huaisang.”

Lao Nie blinked. He supposed that really was using it for its intended purpose – protecting babies from themselves – although he suspected the dragon lady had been thinking of Nie Mingjue as the baby.

“Although…”

Lao Nie raised his eyebrows.

“…I think he may have swallowed it.”

My boys, Lao Nie thought, and had to sit down and hold his ribs because he otherwise feared he might split his sides from laughing so hard. Only my boys.

#mdzs #sect leader nie #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #boys

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Burn The Witch 15 - Liar Liar [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Dishonesty requires practice.

Series Masterlist

Every spy knew things could go downhill on a mission. Considering how your last mission had ended with your ex, you weren’t exactly unfamiliar with the idea of your cover being blown but—

None of the targets were as dangerous as this one.

For a moment, you thought about pushing that button on your wristwatch and calling your whole team here because there was no way you could take down the legendary Winter Soldier in a fight, but through the haze of panic, a voice in your head told you not to.

It was just a mission.

As long as you kept your calm, you could fix this.

“Bucky,” you heard yourself say, “I can explain.”

He stared at you and the gun in his hand, then raised his brows.

“Okay,” he said, “Yeah, please explain why you have a gun.”

God damn it.

Okay, you had to think. Your cover was the naïve sweet civilian girl so any sentence you formed had to fit the description. The spy in you was already trying to come up with something, you had been taught to lie without even blinking but somehow it felt almost—

Wrong.

You tried to pull yourself together, shaking your head.

“I—it’s—“ you took a deep breath, “Yeah I have a gun.”

“I can see that,” he said drily, “Why?”

Good question.

Why would the small town sweetheart have a gun?

The cover story didn’t have anything like that, so you had to come up with a believable lie based on—

Oh. Bingo.

“I was going to tell you,” you said. “I’ve actually—I’ve had it for weeks.”

“For weeks?” he repeated, “Why?”

You ran a hand over your eyes, then crossed your arms and shrugged.

“I’m going to need more than that, Y/N.”

You gritted your teeth and raised your glances to look up at him. “After I got mugged,” you started, “I told one of my friends back home about what happened and she’s—she came up with this idea that I should maybe buy a gun because I—I don’t know. I don’t know why I bought it, I just bought it.”

“You bought a gun because your friend told you to?”

You tilted your head, “No Bucky, I bought a gun because I got mugged and got shot within the first month of moving here.”

His gaze on you was fixed, as if he was trying to see whether you were lying or not but now that panic wasn’t taking over you, you could think straight.

Bucky was a legend among the espionage world and he was unstoppable and you probably didn’t stand a chance against him yes, but you had one advantage.

Bucky was a soldier, not a spy.

Spies were different. Bucky had the physical training to go after a target, but he never, ever had to manipulate them emotionally. You were one step ahead on that and if there was anything that could get you out of this mess, that was it.

“Listen I know that you’re concerned, but you have nothing to worry about,” you waved a dismissive hand, “The guy at the shop was very helpful, he even gave me his number—”

His head shot up, “What?”

“Yeah in case I needed anything with the gun. Or if I had any questions.”

A shadow crossed his eyes and he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Did he now?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “And besides, I watched a bunch of tutorials so I think I got it. I’m a very quick learner.”

“Tutorials?”

“Yeah, videos.”

He blinked a couple of times, and looked down at the gun before looking up at you.

“You watched videos.”

“Mm hm. One of the guys even had a deer head mounted on the wall behind him, it’s very clear he knows what he’s talking about.”

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered to himself and you had to remind yourself not to smile.

“And I know how to take the safety off,” you added, “After that point it’s basically point and pull the trigger, that’s what the video said.”

“I don’t even know where to begin— sweetheart,” he turned to you, “Forget what the video said, I can teach you if you want, but for what it’s worth, I think it’s a terrible idea.”

Hook, line and sinker.

“I hate guns,” you insisted, “It’s just that—Stacey said it’s a big city and after I got shot… I don’t know. I know I should’ve told you, I just didn’t want you to think I’m some kind of a paranoid person.”

He heaved a sigh and reached out to tug you by the hand so that he could pull you closer.

“I don’t think you’re paranoid,” he said. “I just think that you could hurt yourself or someone if you don’t have any training.”

“The guy made it sound pretty easy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think selling it was the only thing he wanted.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Now who’s being paranoid?”

“I’m just being observant.”

“Jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he said and you scrunched up your nose

“Right,” you said, “Of course you’re not.”

“So is there anything I should know about?” he changed the subject, “Anything at all? I won’t judge, I swear.”

You pressed your lips together as you looked up at him. What could you say to that?

I’ve been manipulating you all along.

I’m working for the same government that is looking for you to slip and make a mistake.

When this is over, I’m probably going to hate myself much more than you hate me.

Yeah. There was absolutely nothing you could say.

“Nothing I can think of right now,” you shrugged your shoulders, “So, can we go now?”

***

You could barely remember the last time you had been to a funfair. It didn’t even matter that you already knew where you were going, you were still quite excited despite the earlier panic you had gone through. Thankfully, Bucky seemed to have bought into your story but it didn’t mean you weren’t taking mental notes about what to do by the time the date was over.

Or when you were out of his sight, whichever.

“Thank you!” you said what it felt for the hundredth time as you put a piece of cotton candy into your mouth, enjoying the sweet taste melting in your mouth and Bucky smiled at you fondly.

“No problem darling.”

“No seriously, I haven’t been to a funfair in…I don’t know, forever!” you said, “Wait, so it was a thing back then?”

“Hm?”

“Bringing your date to a funfair?”

He nodded, walking beside you, “Yeah. There wasn’t much to do and you know, lots of people.”

“So no gossip?”

“Lots of gossip,” he corrected you, “But at least—“

“No one’s virtue got damaged.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” you grinned at him and gasped when something caught your eye, making him turn his head.

“What?”

“Oh my God!” you pointed at the huge neon sign and he followed your gaze, then scoffed a laughter.

“Seriously?”

“I want to try it.”

“Shoot The Ducks.” He read out loud, “You know what, let’s see how good you are if you watched that many videos.”

“I’m going to get that teddy bear,” you pointed at the biggest teddy bear sitting on the top shelf while he looked like he was fighting a laugh.

“Are you sure you can carry that?”

“You’re going to carry it for me,” you said as you handed him the cotton candy, your nose in the air and tugged him by the wrist to lead him to the shooting range. You took a look at the paper ducks with bullseye on them, then turned to the man behind the counter.

“Excuse me, how many of those should I shoot to get that?” you asked, motioning at the teddy bear and the man looked up.

“3 sets, all bullseye.”

“Okay,” you said and reached for your purse but Bucky had already paid the man by the time you could get your wallet out. He gave you the toy rifle and you had to remind yourself you were supposed to be terrible at it no matter how much you wanted that goddamn plushie.

The good thing about being an expert sniper was that you knew exactly how to miss and look like an amateur. So you pointed the rifle slightly to the right and took your shot, and as expected you missed.

“No!” you whined and Bucky stifled a chuckle, but adapted a look of seriousness as soon as you turned around to look at him with your eyes narrowed.

“I said nothing.”

“That was just bad luck,” you insisted, then took your shot again, deliberately missing once more. You lowered the rifle, pouting.

“I’m pretty sure this is rigged.”

“Or maybe the guy with the deer head on his wall had no idea what he was talking about,” Bucky pointed out, “Almost like watching videos isn’t enough to figure out how to shoot, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.”

“On the contrary, I am a little terrified now that I know you have a gun," he taunted you, “And seeing this…”

You glared at him and took your shot, missing again and you heaved a sigh, lowering the rifle again.

“Better luck next time miss,” the man said and you offered him a small smile. Bucky heaved a sigh as if he was fighting himself.

“Which one did you say you wanted again?” he asked and you pulled your brows together, then pointed at the huge teddy bear. He nodded at the guy and handed him some cash after giving you your cotton candy back, then grabbed the toy rifle from the man and in only a couple of seconds, he had hit every single bullseye, making your jaw drop.

Okay.

You were so screwed.

You knew that he was a great super soldier but seeing it was something else. A shiver ran down your spine as what you had read on his file flashed before your eyes. You were right earlier, you had to make sure to avoid any kind of combat with him by the time this whole mission was over.

“Y/N?”

Your head shot up and you tried to pull yourself together, letting out a breath.

“Wow,” you managed to say and the man behind the counter gawked between you two.

“Um— that one please?” you said and he blinked a couple of times, then reached out to take the teddy bear down to put it into your arms. You let out a small squeal of glee, then beamed at Bucky.

“Thank you!” you said, trying to keep your nervousness hidden and he smiled.

“No problem,” he motioned at you and you gave the teddy to him so that you could hold your cotton candy better. You shook your head slightly, distracting yourself with the sweetness on your tongue but a small laughter escaped from your lips when you took a look at the sight beside you.

The scary Winter Soldier holding a huge teddy bear in his arms.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you managed to say, “I’m going to name him Bucky.”

“No you’re not.”

“Fine, I’m going to name him Grumpy,” you said, “Same deal.”

“Hey!” he protested and you giggled, then looked around.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing his hand, “Let’s go to the Ring Toss!”

***

It was as if the time was going faster on your every single date with Bucky. Even after spending hours in that funfair until midnight, you were still quite giddy when you and Bucky reached your building. You let out a giggle as you turned around and took the huge teddy bear from him, hugging it tight.

“Thank you,” you said, looking up at him, “Really. I…I think it was the best that I’ve ever had.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!” you said, “And now I have to find something equally amazing for a modern date, so no pressure.”

He chuckled, “You don’t have to find anything,” he said, “I’d be happy just being with you, not doing anything.”

Warmth filled your insides and you smiled.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nodded and you put the teddy bear down, then stood on your tiptoes to pull him down to a kiss.

His arm wrapped around your waist and you found yourself sighing as his other hand cupped your cheek. A fire – a very, very familiar fire started burning at the pit of your stomach as you felt yourself melt at his touch, every single doubt about the mission and the strategies and everything else wiping out of your mind until desire was the only thing left. He brushed your hair behind your ear as you pulled back and looked up at him, the same fire burning in his eyes but he was better than you at hiding it so a gentle smile pulled at his lips.

Fuck what the strategy report says.

“Um—“ you took a deep breath, “Would you want to come upstairs for...a cup of coffee or something?”

He looked almost surprised at the suggestion but for what it was worth, he overcame that quite fast. His gaze stopped on you for a moment before he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “Yeah I’d love to.”

A nervous laughter escaped from you and you nodded,

“Okay—“ you started but before you could say anything, his phone started ringing. He closed his eyes for a moment and took it out of his pocket to answer it.

“This is not a good time man,” he said, but his frown deepened as he listened to the other line, “Right now? Are you serious?”

You tilted your head and he heaved a deep sigh while the person told him something you couldn’t hear.

“Fine,” he muttered, “I’ll be there.”

Oh God damn it.

“Let me guess,” you said when he hung up, “Change of plans?”

He ran a hand over his eyes and nodded.

“Sam says there’s this group of people in need of help…” he grumbled, putting the phone into his pocket, “But somebody better be dying because if not, I can fix that really fast.”

You let out a laugh, “Don’t be like that,” you said, “It’s fine. I told you, I’m not going anywhere. Go save lives.”

“I’m really sorry darling.”

“It’s fine,” you repeated with a smile and pecked him on the lips before picking up the huge teddy bear. “But be careful, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” he saluted and you blew him a kiss before walking into the building. You took the elevator, still holding the teddy tight and as soon as you got to your floor you stepped out.

“What the hell is that?” Keith’s voice reached you and you tilted your head to look around the teddy’s arm to see him by his door, as if he was just leaving.

“It’s a teddy bear,” you said, walking to your door to open it, Keith following you into the apartment.

“What’s in it?” he asked, “Weapons? Guns? Knives?”

“…Fiber.”

“Y/N—” he started but you put it on the floor and took a step back.

“Where are you going?”

“General gave me a mission,” he said, “You seriously want me to believe you just got a teddy bear just because?”

“I was on a date.”

“Oh,” he said, “Romantic. It would be a great way to hide weapons though, even you have to admit—”

“Bucky found my gun.”

Keith stopped talking and stared at you for a couple of seconds, “I beg your pardon?”

You rubbed at your eyes, “You heard me. He found my gun.”

“Why the hell did you not alert me?”

“There was no need.”

Keith threw his head back, “Are you serious right now?” he asked you, “This is the freaking Winter Soldier we’re talking about, you’re not supposed to take any chances! For God’s sake, I live next door for a reason!”

“My cover wasn’t blown,” you insisted, “If you or the team got here, all this would’ve been for nothing. I handled it.”

He crossed his arms, “Still an unnecessary risk to take,” he insisted, “Anything could’ve happened, Y/N. You’ve read his file.”

You nodded, “I handled it,” you said, “You should go by the way. You’re going to be late, the General hates that.”

“Do you want me to say anything to him?”

You thought for a moment and shook your head.

“No,” you said, “Good luck.”

“We will talk about this when I came back.” he pointed at you and left your apartment. You took a look at the teddy bear, then grabbed your phone to touch Chloe’s name.

“Hey there!” she answered on the first ring, “How was the funfair?”

“It was good,” you said, “Listen, I need you to make sure my background is solid.”

“What?” she asked, “It is, I made sure of that—“

“Bucky found my gun,” you said, “Earlier.”

She took in a sharp breath, “God damn it.”

“No it’s fine, I came up with this story of buying it from a shop after the mugging, but…”

“You need a document just in case,” she completed your sentence, “Got it. Do you think he would check?”

“No,” you said, “But Wilson might, he and Bucky are pretty close. It would be much harder to trick him.”

“Got it,” she said, “I’ll get the document ready, maybe some footage… And I’ll go over your social media just in case.”

“Great.”

“But are you okay?”

You paused only for a moment,

“Sure,” you said, “I’m fine, I handled it. It’s all going according to plan.”

“Alright,” she said, “I’d better get to it. Be careful!”

“You too,” you said and hung up, then went to the kitchen to grab a couple of knives before going back to the living room.

“Sorry about this Bucky number two,” you murmured as you turned it around, stuck the knife into it and started ripping it, “But you really would make a good place to hide weapons.”

Chapter 16

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you

543 notes · View notes

bnhamixjuice-sfw · 3 years

Text

ANON REQUEST: Hawks, Dabi and Aizawa: spot an ex he had a bad break up with, he sees her walking around struggling to hold on to a bag of groceries while pushing a stroller with a toddler in it that looks awful lot like them, and the he awkwardly confronts them when the bag falls out of her hands.

Tags: Manga Spoiler, Mention of cheating, Angst to Fluff.

Hawks

“I’m so sorry Dove, I didn’t mean to–”

“Didn’t mean what? to deny that I’m your girlfriend in front of the media ‘cause you had a job agreement with the commission not to reveal me! okay Keigo you’re doing this for what reason exactly? Hero Reputation? More women you can use to cheat behind my back again and expect me to forgive you? I–I don’t want this kind of life anymore!”, you wailed in pure anguish roughly wriggling your wrist away from his firm clutch.

He felt suffocated when he needed to let you go for all the things that he did to hurt you, holding back the urge to chase you outside when you frantically closed the door, not looking back anymore on him. Leaving the top pro hero falling on his knees, lonely between these four walls of his house.

After all this time he can’t forget you, longing to see your face everywhere he goes even on pro hero awarding events or his usual patrol work with Endeavor looking for you through the crowds, praying to see your smile again that he misses the most.

His life was crumbling apart without you, but luck was on his side today when he spotted you not too far from where he was signing autographs for his fans while stealing some glances. As always, you’re still beautiful standing there.

Trying to fix your grocery bags while clasping the baby-carriage’s handle. He hesitated at first to approach you thinking you’re probably waiting for your husband to pick you up and your child. And that’s when a tuft of yellow hair popped out.

“Mommy look it’s Hawks, Awtoglaph pweasee awtoglapph”, his excited pleas reached Hawks’ ears. pointing his fingers towards your ex-boyfriend who waved a hand on both of you.

Soon red feathers clumped together on the ground, preventing your bag to fall.

“Wow what do we have here, a kid full of energy today, so where do you want me to sign your autograph?”, stooping down beaming a smile with his eyes crinkling behind his yellow visor making your child gasp in awe.

He knew instantly that his suspicion was right seemingly looking at his own reflection with those golden honey orbs and black lines on those eyelids and small bump protruding behind the kid’s shirt, red feathers similar to his, messily cramped inside.

“Ke–Hawks here… ”, almost calling out his first name when you handed him a notebook and a pen.

Slightly feeling his gloved hand against your palm.

“Hawks look I hab wings too–”

“Honey we need to go home now or else you’ll miss your favorite show again, now say bye bye to Mr. Hawks”, you interrupted, sneaking a warning glare on him not to tell him anything before gently freeing your child’s wings out from his shirt’s makeshift holes.

“Little fledgling I guess your wings were moulting, so did your Daddy tell you about it”

“Hab no Dawdy but Oh you see… Mommy Lov’ Dawdy so much that she booboo cries” you were shock-stricken softly hushing your child out of embarassment.

“Well kid make sure to tell your Mommy not to cry okay cause Daddy loves her so much, yes don’t forget to tell that to her every day I–”, he stammered with his voice started cracking, overwhelming him with emotions too easily, swallowing the lump forming on his throat.

“Your father loves you too kid trust me, and surely there’s not a single day he’s not thinking of your Mommy, his only Dove–Ah I think I’m taking too much of your time Miss I-I’m so sorry”, halting it immediately, muffling a few sniffles before finally signing his signature.

Your heart began thumping so loud, not expecting him shamelessly grabbing your hand, burying you into a warm embrace in public.

“Wait Keigo stop this, everyone’s taking so many pictures of you”

“No I don’t care anymore, listen Dove I’m so sorry and I still love you, come back to me please I promise I won’t hurt you again, I’ll do better this time just let me make up for it, and for our son”

You can’t blame yourself for giving in, accepting him wholeheartedly knowing this is what you promised to him once.

To never let your future child experience the same heartache he suffered from his past.

Dabi

He regret those cruel words that came out from his mouth the first time he was too fed up of your constant admonishment of putting a rest on his revenge against his family forever since you cannot bear to see him exhausting his body anymore, starting this heated discourse again between you.

“You always bring this up y/n every single day and it’s too annoying already, why are you siding on Enji too much Babydoll… come on just say it you really want us to have a perfect family, so cool to have a child with this debilitating quirk too right?”

Sucking your inner lips anxiously avoiding to tell him something about that last one, you felt his grip on your sholders constricting furiously waiting for you to answer him back, but your tears spilling from those precious eyes made his stomach churn in guilt realizing what he had done when you began screaming on his face that everything’s over, shoving him away and locking the door of your house shut.

He knew how much of a dick he was, the worst break up that’s been haunting him everyday with your terrified face forever etched on his mind

It’s been a long time since the last time he saw you after you moved from your old house and he cannot find you everywhere until today.

He saw you pushing a stroller on the side of the road and having a hard time balancing the bag of groceries on your other hand.

Perhaps you found someone better than him and additionally having a child; a normal child considering he’s not the father. that’s what he thought until something caught his attention.

Squinting his eyes, he was slack-jawed to find a familiar cerulean orbs and red hair on that young boy giddily calling you Mommy.

He took this rare chance of talking to you again by catching your bag of groceries that you clumsily dropped, your eyes met recognizing your ex-boyfriend instantly when he removed his mask. piercing eyes gazing down below observing your child’s similar features.

“Babydoll why didn’t you tell me about him, our son?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Dabi and refrain from calling me that nickname anymore, also stay away from MY son before I call the police”

You breathed heavily snatching back your grocery bag from his grasp, clutching the stroller’s handle in pure anger.

“Daddy you meanie, go home”, tugging his pants with those tiny hands.

It hurts you to see your own child begging for his father to go home, when you can’t even tell him how you often show his own picture to your child that’s why he recognized his own father easily, keeping him close to his heart and memory forever.

You can’t hate your only child’s father.

He was expecting him to cry on his intimidating face when he bent his knees down to look at his child closely, ignoring your earlier threat by patting his son’s head seemingly accepting this foreign fatherly instinct.

“Kid look I’m obviously a bad guy, I don’t want you to get in trouble so maybe next time when your Mommy allows me, don’t worry I’ll probably see you again next time pepperoni haired kid”, chuckling when he saw his son’s childish pout, letting him pinch his stapled cheeks annoyed at his nickname.

“Y/n this is goodbye then”, flashing you that thin smile noticing his lips quivering a bit as he stood.

Shoving both of his hands inside his pockets before turning around to walk slowly away from both of you ignoring your child’s tantrum cries calling for him to go back.

“Ssh… sweetie don’t cry okay–Wait Touya!”

He stopped on his tracks when you yelled his real name again, like how you used to call him that before out of endearment.

“We’re going to stay here from now on so same address, the usual okay knock thrice and use our anniversary day on pressing the doorbell and don’t forget our password, listen I’m doing this for our child only so you better show up tonight or I won’t ever give you a chance”

He disappeared quickly after that, and tonight he never failed to show up incessantly ringing the doorbell many times even greeting you that typical password; a kiss.

A yearning kiss, hands intertwining the moment you opened your heart once again.

Aizawa

“Shouta you keep missing my calls these past few weeks when I needed you the most, you barely have enough time to visit me when I was sick the whole week and now you’re late, fine I don’t wanna hear your excuses anymore”

Those bitter words pierced him like thorns, seeing you slip out that engagement ring from your finger and placing it on a table whispering those bitter words he doesn’t want to hear from you.

“It’s better if we end this relationship now before we regret something, I–I can’t imagine my future being married with you or even having a child with you who pathetically seek for time and attention from his workaholic father, sorry Shouta”, you covered your mouth trying to bite back your tongue from spilling about your unborn child.

Running outside the restaurant leaving him heartbroken that he can’t further speak out his words anymore because everything that you just told him was painfully true.

He doesn’t deserve you, blaming himself for not appreciating you enough despite of your effort of enduring the hardships of having a pro hero fiance who often risk his life for his students. A man who can’t even spend a time to take care of you.

Nevertheless, he wanted to mend back those strings that binds you to his heart, always pouring out his loneliness on visiting that Cat Cafe on his day off every week reminding him of memories you two share.

You often take him there to spend a date knowing he’s fond of cats and snapping lots of photos of him every time he ends up sleeping on the corner with cats huddling close to his face nearly suffocating him.

Keeping your engagement ring to him all the time was the only thing that calms him down whenever he’s in dire situation on his job, thinking how much he wish to meet you here again.

Unbelievably seeing you again one time, rubbing his weary eyes once and twice to know if it’s truly you. Indeed, he can’t forget that familiar caring smile of his beloved, finding you outside the cat cafe currently having a problem of organizing your bag of groceries.

“Mawmmy, neko pweasee I wanna touch it!”, your daughter began whinning clapping his hands to get your attention.

He can’t believe his own eyes when your child resembles him too much with that obsidian dull eyes and sleek black hair minus for that pigtail hairstyle but that scowl seems a carbon copy of his own.

“Wait Baby I–”

“I think you need help Y/n”

You were flabbergasted to find your ex-fiance taking a hold of your bag of groceries with his whip that was about to hit the ground and voluntarily offering his Neko tote bag for you which you persuaded him not to.

“Mawmmy pwease I want that too, Neko”, her tiny hands reaching out determined to get it no matter what.

“Baby no–”

“Well your daughter love cats so much, you can give this to her, please just a friendly gift”, taking out something from his pocket leaning down a bit to his side to rummage on that keychain, letting you see his necklace around his neck with that old engagement ring of yours dangling.

“Found it, here kid I’m not sure if you’ll like this”

“Aww Mawmmy have that too um…right Mawmmy, so no thanks Mister”

There’s no way you were married that’s what Shouta suspected when he saw you not wearing any ring, and obviously that cat keychain was closely similar to his anniversary keychain that you two bought for each other.

“Y/n I can drive you two back to your house if its okay–”

“Mawmmy please say yes”

You sighed in defeat not having a choice in the first place and also giving freedom to your child to spend time with her father who doesn’t know about this.

His car was still the same, sitting beside him and your child now sleeping behind after getting so tired ogling on his car’s cat accesories.

You chuckled upon seeing your daughter’s face on the mirror messily drooling, leaning slightly on your side to wipe the corner of her mouth.

“Darling is she our daughter”

“Eyes on the road Shouta, and yes so what will you do about it. Do you expect me to ask for any financial support from you oh maybe spending your precious time for our daughter that I can’t even get from you years ago”, you sarcastically uttered, stabbing him rudely with those truthful words he was unprepared to hear from you.

“I understand if you’re still mad at me y/n, but I just want you to let you know that I want to set things right first before asking you to forgive me. Because I don’t want to miss this opportunity again to tell you how much I wanted to talk to you or maybe to see you in your white wedding dress”

You can’t resist how determined he was to get close to you again, feeling his hand slowly making its way on you.

Giving back that engagement ring to whom it truly belongs, and that was you, a dream he wanted to come true despite it being too impossible.

Turning your head away to wipe your own tears, proposing for the second time that you have been waiting to hear from him all along.

“She’s your daughter Shouta and don’t you dare make her cry of I’ll scratch your face harder than what your cat does”

“That’s too kind of you, I mean my cat misses your deadly belly rub too, you named him Mr. Pickles right, well I’m sure he’d be thrilled to see his Mom again and his new sibling soon”,

You both exchanged soft giggling catching up on one another by starting the conversation about your lives and so on and so forth, and apparently your child was eavesdropping on both of you.

Your daughter muffled a “Pro hero mission success” after accomplishing her goal, peeking a bit to see you wearing that shiny ring.

She knew it the first time she saw that stranger recognizing him from one of the picture you often place under your pillow, her daddy.

Well she did inherit Shouta’s intellectual skills after all.

Do not repost this fic/headcanon.

Disclaimer: I don't own My hero academia nor its characters and plot.

#hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #dabi x reader #shouta x y/n #shouta x reader #shouta x you #bnha fanfiction #bnha imagines #Reposted my old fic/hc here cause I forgot to remove keep reading before deactivating

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devilyn · 3 years

Text

i want to tell you i love you | tsukishima kei

— alexa, play: i won’t let you feel alone again by demxntia

Every single time that I lay my eyes on your face I'm falling for your body and your mind too Forget the past we can leave it all behind you I won't let you feel alone again I won't let you feel alone again, no

— synopsis: sometimes, tsukki wished he could be more honest with himself. because if he had honestly told you how he felt about you, he wouldn’t be standing outside your front door wondering how he should beg you for forgiveness right now. — genre: angst, happy ending, implications of nsfw, tsukki’s pride again. — word count: 1.8k

He wondered if he should even be here, standing outside your door without calling you beforehand. He knew you had to leave in 10 minutes if you wanted to make it to lecture in time, and he knew if you saw him your day would most likely be ruined.

Yet he didn't move from his spot by your front door.

Did you even want to see him? Chances were low. If anything, him being here was more likely to hurt you. But without thinking, his feet had brought him to your doorstep. Softly, he cursed and ran his hand through his hair.

He never knew what to do when it came to you and your undefined relationship.

"What are we?" you finally asked the other night with a softness in your eyes he never wanted to let go.

"Nothing," is what he instinctively said to keep the walls around his heart up, but he felt it throb in his chest when he saw the way your expression fell.

He hated labels. He hated defining things. It's why the two of you lasted so long. But it was only natural that you'd want some sort of definition of what was happening between the two of you.

If his high school teammates saw him now, most of them would probably be disappointed in the type of man he became. In fact, they'd yell at him to treat you better. So what was stopping him?

Pride. It was always his pride, and he hated it.

He nearly jumped in surprise when he heard your front door click and then swing open. You let out a similar noise of shock before finally looking up and meeting his golden eyes. Your haggard expression managed to become even more tired than before just at the sight of his face, and suddenly, he regretted coming.

"Why…?" you trailed off, knowing he knew what you meant.

"...needed to see you," he answered honestly, though he almost regretted that too when your brows furrowed and your expression darkened.

"I have class," you responded coldly, stepping outside the warm comforts of your apartment to brave the winter air. Tsukishima could see your breath, and the way you shuddered at the cool wind that blew by.

"M'not here for sex," he murmured and you scoffed, checking the time on your phone.

"Yeah, I figured that. You never come anytime before 9pm for sex," you tilted your head. "In fact, you never come before 9pm at all."

He felt like he was going to collapse, but his feet stayed rooted to the ground as he gazed down at you with an unreadable expression. Despite that, your hard expression softened into one he couldn't understand. He watched you glance at your phone again and curse under your breath. You would be late if you didn't leave now.

"Look, Kei," you stated quickly. "I need to go or I'll be late to class."

"You can miss one lecture."

You rolled your eyes and took a step forward in an attempt to slip past him. He wasn't sure how, but he managed to pull his feet from their spot by your front door to plant himself in front of you instead, blocking you from taking any more than three steps away from your doormat. Your expression morphed into one of displeasure once again.

"Kei," you spoke in a warning tone. "I'm going to be late."

"I want to talk--"

"You had your chance to talk last week," you interrupted, voice calm. "So move out of my way, or I'll block your number and you definitely won't be able to talk to me then."

"Either way, we know you're going to end up blocking my number after today anyway," he retorted with narrowed eyes, as you desperately looked for a way around his unnecessarily tall frame. "so let's talk now."

You scoffed and threw your hands into the air in defeat. Quickly, you whirled back around and forcefully unlocked your front door before yanking it open. Before stepping inside, you turn your head to glare at him.

"This is your last chance, Tsukishima Kei."

He flashed you a bitter smile before following you inside your familiar apartment.

"Excuse the mess," you mumble, dropping your bag by the couch as you head into the kitchen to grab him a beverage.

He closed the door behind him, the soft click of the lock sealing his fate. How would he go about this? It's not like he came here with a plan. He had acted on emotion alone, and somehow ended up here. Yet, as you said, this was his last chance to be honest with himself, and with you.

"I hope water's fine. I don't have anything else," your soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He watched you toss used tissues and napkins from the coffee table into the trash, briefly wiping it down with a wet towel before setting his beverage on top.

He took in your apartment for the first time during the daylight. It was uncharacteristically messy, with an emptied bag of chips tossed aside and a blanket and pillow laying haphazardly on your only couch. Your shoes were kicked to the side, and some clothes that he deemed as your pajamas were on the ground by the couch. As if you knew he was observing the sight, you hurriedly cleaned up the area.

"You don't need to clean," he said softly, though you made a soft noise that sounded like a snort. Clearly, you weren't going to listen to him.

"Sit," you told him as you made your way back to your bedroom to toss everything onto your bed to clean later. "And think thoroughly about what your excuse will be."

He did as you told him, taking a seat comfortably on your couch. He's spent an excessive amount of time here with you, usually with you perched in his lap with your lips against his. You always had this soft giggle he adored, and would try to draw out of you by kissing areas on your neck he knew were ticklish. He would rest his head on your lap after a long day of classes, volleyball practice, and generally dealing with others. You would run your hand through his hair absentmindedly while watching a show on your laptop, and he would gaze up at your focused expression with stars in his eyes. Then, his hand would reach up and pull you down for a kiss, which would eventually lead to more.

There were many nights where he'd let you force him into washing the sheets because of the mess the two of you made, and you insisted it had to be a team effort because it was mostly his fault for initiating in the first place. Still, the sight of you writhing beneath him with red cheeks pleading for more always made the laundry day worth it. Plus, the bright smile you wore watching him reluctantly pull the sheets off your bed made him feel things he couldn't put into words.

"I love you," Tsukishima whispered softly to himself, as he heard the quiet pattering of your feet become louder with each step as you approached the common area. That was the lame excuse he had come up with.

You took the spot on the other side of the couch, turning so you could face him.

"So?" you tilted your head, fingers messing around with your phone as a distraction. "What's the excuse you came up with that was good enough to force me to skip class?"

He was silent, eyes taking in every inch of your face and the small changes that occurred over the span of the two days he hadn't seen you.

The bags under your eyes were new, along with your chapped lips and the sadness in your irises. His hand reached forward and he inched closer to you, leaning in to cup your cheek gently. Though you allowed the action, you stiffened and never tore your gaze from his. His golden-brown eyes flickered to your lips, thumb brushing over them slowly.

"I'm sorry," he finally mumbled, eyes closing as he leaned in again to rest his forehead against yours.

"For what?" you inquired quietly. You were testing him, and he knew it. He deserved it, really.

"For saying you meant nothing to me when that obviously isn't true," Tsukishima still had his palm cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your supple skin as he sighed quietly. The two of you were silent for a bit before you spoke up again, your voice shaky.

"...what am I supposed to believe, Kei? That you really want to be around me for more than just sex, or are you cruel enough to lie to my face to keep me around as someone you can run to whenever you wanna fuck?"

"You're worth more than that," his voice was weak, and he suppressed his pride that scolded him for speaking his true feelings. "And I'm sorry that I made you feel like you weren't. I'm sorry that I disproved my actions with my words because I was scared of giving my heart to someone."

He finally opened his eyes, and his heart trembled at the sight of your teary expression.

"I can't forgive you so easily, you know," your fingers reached up to trace the outline of his jaw, and a pleased hum left his lips.

"I'll make it up to you, until you believe me," he placed his hand over yours, bringing your knuckles to his lips and pressing light kisses to your fingertips. Your gaze was soft, admiring the adoration in his eyes.

"I like you a lot," you whimpered weakly, and he couldn't help but smile. He leaned down to finally kiss you like he had been wanting to since he first saw you, his fingers intertwining with yours.

"I know," he mumbled against your lips, and you weakly smacked his shoulder to which he snickered.

"Do you like me…?" you asked quietly, voice even smaller than before, as if you were afraid of his answer.

"...yeah. A lot," he answered honestly, and his heart swelled up with joy at the sight of your teary smile. With a soft giggle that sounded like home to him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of you to press your lips to his again.

One day, he'd be able to vocalize just how much he loved that laugh of yours. One day, he'd be able to tell you honestly just how much he loves you.

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei angst #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima imagine #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei scenarios #tsukishima kei imagine #tsukishima hcs

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imkylotrash · 3 years

Text

Kiss Me On The Sidewalk

Pairing: Hardin Scott x Reader

Request: It’s raining. It’s POURING DOWN. They are stood in the rain (could either be sad, happy etc) but here’s a prompt! “How can you blame me for not believing in love? The last time I did that it ruined me.”

“If love is the sound of fists on a boxing bag and screaming until your throat is dry then maybe I do believe in love after all.” Anonymous

A/N I took the liberty of turning it into two prompts because I had the perfect idea.

Tagging: @bitchwhytho @music-of-melody @shadowhuntyi

“Come back!” he yells but you’re determined to get away from him no matter what. You are done. You are done with him and all of his games.

“Go away, Hardin.” You’re instantly drenched when you get outside. It’s pouring down with thunder and lightning but it won’t stop you. You’d rather take your chances than stay another second with him.

“Are you crazy? You can’t go out in this weather.” Despite his own warning, he follows you out in the rain. His black t-shirt clings to him in a way that makes you feel things you don’t want to feel.

“Just let it go, Hardin. Let me go.” God, you can’t do it anymore. You can’t keep up with his mood swings and his constant need to punish you. The only thing loving you has brought you is pain.

“I can’t. Do you think I like being this way? I hate how crazy you make me.”

“Oh, so this is my fault? What exactly did I do? Is it me loving you that makes it so difficult for you? Or maybe the way I put you first while you can’t even bring yourself to call me your girlfriend?” You’re not holding back this time but it still hurts to see the pain in his eyes. It seems you can’t go one day without arguing and you used to love the passion no matter how toxic it was but now you couldn’t stand it. You wanted someone to love you and not just treat you like a property.

“You know I don’t date. I told you that from the start,” he argues but he can’t use that excuse anymore. Not when he’s clearing a drawer in his dresser for you and making room for an extra toothbrush in the bathroom. You may not be his girlfriend, but you’re sure as hell not just a friend he likes to fuck.

“You told me you didn’t believe in love but you lie there next to me every night telling me I’m the only calm you’ve experienced. Something doesn’t add up.” You’re tired of being told you’re just a friend when he so clearly has feelings for you.

“How can you blame me for not believing in love? The last time I did that it ruined me.” You know exactly who he’s referring to. Tessa Young. The girl who broke his heart in a million pieces and then stepped on the pieces. She was his first love but you’d helped glue everything back together and now you refused to live in the shadow of what she did to him. You had never hurt him like that and you refused to do so. But you couldn’t keep this going.

“I’m not her,” you yell trying to talk over the thunder. It’s getting closer now and you just know you’ll be getting a cold from the rain. It’s pouring down and soaking everything. Not a single inch of you is dry anymore.

“Don’t you think I know that?” he says agitated. His hair falls down in his eyes and you have to stop yourself from reaching out and pushing it to the side. You can’t get close to him if you’re going to keep your control.

“Do you? Because you keep blaming me for her faults. Hardin, I am in love with you.” There’s the truth. It’s the first time you’ve said it out loud like that. His lips crashes against yours before you even have time to react. Your resilience is washed away by the rain and his touch. There’s something animalistic and raw in the way he kisses you like he’s scared you’ll disappear in the rain. You run your fingers through his hair hoping he knows just how much he means to you.

“If love is the sound of fists on a boxing bag and screaming until your throat is dry then maybe I do believe in love after all,” you whisper against his lips. You don’t care if you spend the rest of your lives screaming at each other and punching walls but you need to know he’s all in. You need to know he’s willing to risk it all the way you are.

“Whatever makes you stay. Just please stay.” You follow him inside getting the shower running as you undress. You need to warm up. You don’t say much as you get ready to go in the shower but as soon as you’re standing under the warm water, he’s ready to talk.

“I want to be with you. I’m just scared I’ll get hurt again,” he whispers. It’s the first time he’s been really honest with you and you’re thankful he’s finally reaching a point where he knows he can say these things to you.

“I can’t promise you I won’t hurt you at some point. But I love you, Hardin and I’ll do everything in my power not to hurt you the way she did.” You trace one of his tattoos on his chest allowing him the time to think about what he says next.

“I want you. I want to believe in love again.” He leans his forehead against yours as the warm water cascades down on you. It feels so good to hear him say that he actually wants you too. But you know deep down it won’t be enough to prevent the two of you from standing here again next time it gets too much. You need more to stay. He reads you like an open book knowing you need more.

“How about we start small? A date,” he offers and you’re quick to agree. What you need is to know you’re moving in the right direction. As long as it’s one step forward and not three steps back, you don’t mind taking it slow.

“I’m not going anywhere, Hardin. I hope you believe that someday.”

#hardin scott imagine #hardin scott blurb #hardin scott x reader #hardin scott after #Hardin Scott #After movie #after imagine #after blurb #after #after we collided blurb #after we collided imagine #after we collided #awc blurb #awc imagine #awc

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keilemlucent · 3 years

Text

pretty eyes & starshine: i

(NSFW)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

part i || part ii || part iii

beta’ed: @shadowworks & @keiqos (thank you!! 💞)

word count: ~9.4k

Keigo surrenders to losing himself in the blank-walled, temporary home he inhabits. He finds familiarity in the routine of aches, pains and pills.

You’re his only solace.

warnings: bodily trauma, medical trauma, PTSD, dissociation, suicidal ideation, alcohol as a coping mechanism and graphic description of sustained injury

a/n: oh wow so here it is, big sad fic :’^) part one!! it’s canon divergent from manga chapter 296 onwards.

this one has been a long time coming. please mind the warnings!! this fic deals a lot with trauma and mental illness in tandem. the warnings are going to change with the coming parts, so please be mindful. i don’t wanna get too sappy, but this piece has been my Baby for the past few months, and i’m excited to finally share. that being said, enjoy loves 💞

Everyone is fucked up after the War.

There is no kindness in an aftermath like this one, not so soon, and certainly not with dried blood of old comrades and mud still caking under its metaphorical fingernails. The world was in shambles, and every hero is along with it.

There is something horrifying about being at the center of it all, Hawks, no, Keigo thinks solemnly, all too often.

He’s used to the attention he’s getting, touches and poking and prodding by near strangers. Except, he was used to exclamations of how great and powerful and remarkable he was. Now, all the attention he receives is followed by little sighs and sad, broken eyes.

He’s sure he looks equally as sad; Keigo had been nothing but an empty shell since the War had ended and he’d been carted off to his hospital room. Numb despite all of his burns.

It’s the shock, he tells himself, he’ll snap out of it any day.

Any day.

...

And it is any day.

He wakes up to screaming from the next room over, agonized wails that pierce the air as his morning nurse enters. She’s over-worked and haggard while checking his vitals with a forced smile. They don’t make conversation with him much anymore, and Keigo doesn’t have the energy to try and force it. There isn’t enough in him to pretend that he’s okay enough to banter with folks.

If he still had his wings, he would’ve wrapped himself up tight in the plumage and let himself rot away in some corner. He’d let the dissociated numbness fade, however long it took, and then succumb to whatever psychological wounds revealed themselves.

Waste away, all alone.

But he doesn't have that luxury. He is in an overcrowded hospital with swarms of civilians and heroes, all stuffed in one place because the world doesn’t have the time to differentiate between the wounded, nor the space or resources to give different resources. Though, Keigo is a special case, hence why he’s had healers coming to him for the past three weeks since the War trying to coax his body into genesizing a new pair of wings.

The Commission’s hospital has all the bells-and-whistles that a medical professional could need, but Keigo, and so many others, are facing problems that don’t have good and easy roads to healing.

That’s assuming healing was even possible.

Keigo is convinced, has been convinced, that there is no way to come back from the War, nor the absence on his back, nor the shouts and cries of pain that echo around the hospital like a new genre of music that Keigo so desperately wants to scrub from his brain.

Things change, it’s inevitable. Everyone falls eventually, and he was just used to flying.

It’s a harder descent.

...

Keigo doesn’t meet you on any day, he meets you on a lonely night.

The evenings and early mornings were the most peaceful at the hospital. Most folks, three weeks after the end of it all, had serious enough injuries that they had to be somewhat sedated to sleep, either for physical or mental pain keeping them from sleep.

It’s morose, Keigo thinks, quietly and privately, but he craves those hours. All he hears then is the hum of air vents and beeps of his own medical machinery. None of the audible agony of the folks he was sworn to protect.

He’s slept most of the day, not lucid enough to do much else, and the nurses haven’t been giving him sedatives unless he asked (though he always did.) Without forced quiet, he’s antsy, fingers twitching and flaring the new (and growing) pains rooted in his (empty, isn’t that horrifying—) back.

He rouses himself, adjusting his scratching hospital garb (thin sweats and a cheap crew neck with the back almost entirely cut away). With his IV pole at his side, he resolves to take a few laps and quiet himself, hopefully.

(Keigo would need sedatives, he always did, but it was nice to play pretend that he didn’t. It made things easier for a precious hour or two.)

His laps are usually quick, despite how much his body aches when he walks. So much new, burnt tissue that needed to learn how to move, how to live again, kept him throbbing and gritting his teeth.

Masochism be damned, he keeps at it during his sleepless nights. Physical therapy wasn’t an option when the world was caving in with him at the epicenter.

There’s a common room at the end of the foyer of identical (filled) hospital rooms, just a collection of stuffy, uncomfortable couches that face an aged TV and a wide bay of windows. It’s rarely used, just a formality for when the space of the hospital had regularly hurt victims and heroes. When it wasn’t bearing so much weight.

Sometimes, he would stop to idly regard the mostly barren world around the hospital. Far from the cities, a little hideaway for heroes and their loved ones to heal in privacy. Other than sheer distance, there is a thick, organic shield around the complex. It’s a towering forest, man-planted with identical types of trees in perfect rows.

It’s grim in its predictability.

(When did he get so fucking pensive?)

(Oh yeah, too much time locked in his goddamn skull.)

He hadn’t been planning to have any inner musings that night.

But, that night, he notes that he is not alone.

On one of the hard couches, you sit, with your own IV-pole companion and injuries, an arm carried in a monochromatic sling and set in a hard cast.

You turn to him, blinking wide eyes at him.

There’s a single lamp on, and the light dances in your eyes with its own unexpected rhythm.

Something compels Keigo to smile, cocky, like he used to, and greet you with a little wave, and a finger to his lips.

Your expressions melts, a hand going over your mouth to stifle a giggle.

It’s like you’re pulling him after that, he finds himself resting across from you.

You must look like a pair, he realizes. You’re greasy, he’s greasy. He’s got a fine layer of built-up stubble that shouldn’t be called anything other than impressive peach fuzz (not that Keigo’s seen it, he’s felt it. The idea of looking in a mirror makes him sick to his stomach. Though you don’t have any pseudo-beard, you’ve got your own unkempt look and feel that makes you two kindred without sharing a word.

It feels comfortable, warm.

“Hi,” you speak first, voice soft and gentle. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nah, who can?” Keigo replies, shaking his head. “But what about you? Midnight oil doesn’t burn without a cause, you know.”

Your expression is also painful in the way it’s so open, yet worn (most everyone had locked up by now, the ones in the hospital and Keigo imagined the ones outside of it too.)

“I like the sky— the stars are pretty.” You sigh, wistful. “I watch for shooting stars.”

The thought, the significance of that obvious wanting, makes something pang deep in his chest. Childlike hope in a place like this, foolish as well as frail.

“Trying to get a wish?” Keigo clicked his tongue. “Smart.”

“No, no— wishing doesn’t... suit me, right now.” You snorted, shaking your head, the light in your eyes dancing, “I just think they’re pretty.”

Keigo blinks, unable to stop the way his eyes widen.

Your posture reads nothing but earnestness and vulnerability, so freely given (so undeserved) without a hint of pullback.

“What do you want to be called?”

“... Excuse me?” Keigo is not used to his thoughts being interrupted in the blanket of dark that he feels most comfortable in. Your words shock him enough with their meaning, let alone the way you’re so brazen.

“I, uh,” You stumble on your words. “I know who you are, but I also saw that whole broadcast, which I’m going to easily assume you don’t want to talk about. But, I don’t know how much you want to be called ‘Hawks’ at this point either.”

His mouth is dry.

“So, I ask instead,” You lean forward, your IV line pulling the slightest bit and you wince. His discomfort must be very fucking apparent, because you backtrack in moments. “... Or, neither. I can call you something else, too.”

“... A nickname, for someone you don’t even know?” Keigo, Hawks, whoever he is now struggles with words. There’s too many, and they’re all too fast, and he doesn’t have his wings to catch up to them or outrun them—

“Yeah, why not?” You shrug with a lazy smile. “I’ll call you... pretty eyes. How about that?”

Keigo does have pretty eyes. They’re gold, light and glittering amber in the lowlight. Before he, ya’ know, lost them, and when things were good, but awful, but normal, he darkened the organic marks around his canthi with liquid eyeliner. He liked makeup, prettied himself up and accentuated all the good he had. Preening.

None of that is left, just what organically was on his skin, and he hasn’t seen it in its raw state in years, and like fuck if he was going to look in a mirror just to figure out if his natural eyeliner was half as good as that by his own hand.

“Sure, that works,” He relaxes, mirroring your expression like the practiced... pro he is. “What do I call you, starshine?”

You roll your eyes, but nothing about you fades as you tell him your name, something that calms and fills him, “But, you can call me starshine if you want. Sounds nice.”

It’s sweet.

So, Keigo greets you.

“Nice to meet you, starshine.”

...

That’s the first time you kept each other’s company. Most of it is quiet, you truly do just want to watch the stars. Keigo did with you, tracing the shadows of clouds and moonlight with his eyes.

(Occasionally, his gaze shifts to you, regarding your figure with the same care for only a moment before returning to the sky you both miss.)

Eventually, the quiet heat of it puts him half to sleep, and he bids you goodnight.

You wave goodbye, rising as he away.

The light isn’t in your eyes anymore, and your warmth feels a little too far away.

...

The next days are long.

He slips into that shell-state again, where he’s a husk that stares emptily at the ceiling as the Commission tries to piece him together to a fraction of what he once was.

They fail, each time, because no healer they’ve brought can regenerate quirk-formed appendages, but he commends their efforts all the same. It’s out of desperation, sure, but he’s heard whispers of the new generation. In recalling his own sidekicks, he isn’t as scared for the future.

(Everyone else’s future. He’s so terrified of his own that he turns extra numb if he thinks about it.)

Selfishly, he just wants his wings for himself. They’d keep him plenty company. If he ever did get them back, he’d fly somewhere, faraway and alone to live out his days under his feathers and feel as empty as he wanted.

They fuss over him all day, not knowing those desires. They are private, and he only puts on his old, self-confident bravado so they don’t lock him up somewhere to have his brain picked and to fill the new holes with pill-shaped gauze.

As established, Keigo was content to rot.

(He can’t fully parse all of his feelings and they consume him.)

The healers for the week all failed, doing nothing but making his back bow and burn. It’s painful. Obviously, trying to stitch a body back together, or rather making a body make when it was so tired of creating—

(Feather after feather after feather, for how long?)

He’s glad his sessions are in a different room, a spare, horrifyingly metallic exam room across the hospital. It reeks like iron and isopropyl alcohol, but Keigo doesn’t mind. The filmy paper that rolls from the exam table gets soaked with his sweat as opposed to his familiar bed dressings.

Not to mention, it’s nice, not having to hear his neighbor’s screams and pleadings to God, any god, for reprieve. Calming.

(He feels less guilty. Less like it was his own hand that scarred up their bodies. If he can’t hear them, he only thinks of his own agony under ‘helping’ hands.)

His body is exhausted at the end of each day, and even his restlessness fades with the necessities of his body.

He doesn’t see you, and practically forgets about you.

It’s a week or so later when he takes one of his strolls, and finds you tucked away into your nook, dimly lit and with a blanket over your lap.

Keigo feels it as he nears you, that comfort that your expression bleeds into his very soul. Even as he watches your healthy hand nervously toy with the thin knit in your lap, it doesn’t dim you.

The lamplight dances in your eyes as you nod to him, “Fancy seeing you here, pretty eyes.”

“You’d never know it, but I live just down the hallway— me,” He touches his chest proudly, surprised by his own jest.

You gave a fake gasp, mirroring him easily, “Never knew I had such a well-known soul in my neighborhood. Forgive my transgression.”

Bending at the waist, as much as you can with your right leg extended, straight, you choke on laughter.

Keigo follows you in it, giggling, genuinely giggling, high and light and girlish like he’d never heard from himself before.

He snapped his mouth shut, thickly swallowing and shaking his head.

“No need to be shy,” You assured him with an affectionate turn of the head. “You have a lovely laugh.”

“Now you’re just flirting with me, cute.”

Your head tilted farther, confused, “I’m simply being kind to you.”

Why didn’t he have the snark to reply to that? Probably because he was half-dead and on painkillers for nearly a month. He’d beat himself up about it later, maybe.

There wasn’t an ounce of malice in your tone, just earnestness that tugged at his own insecurities.

You backpedaled. “How was your day?”

Keigo takes a few moments to respond, shaking his head without mind to the way his too-long hair flops in his face.

The banter isn’t forced, but it’s not welcomed yet.

As comfortable as you feel to him, Keigo isn’t comfortable.

“Same old, same old,” Living hell. “Boring, mostly. Painful, but dull. It’s crazy how much hell smells like cheap disinfectant, huh?”

You agree, quietly, “I’m pretty sure there’s many hells in this place.”

Keigo doesn’t know how to respond, so he doesn’t.

You both regard the stars again with growing reverence. Specks of light dance back in your eyes as you both settle into the hard cushions like they were made of goose down and Sherpa.

...

Your conversations are... disjointed, to say the least.

There’s an inability for words and phrases to flow between you. There’s starts and stops, stalls like an engine that putters on tarry oil without ever truly firing. There are good feelings, still, safety in silence before words as you stargaze together through the comfort of a window.

It should feel disarming, to be so far from the sky yet have no way to reach it. And it is, but Keigo can swallow the reality these days. It’s easier when there’s someone on the mend close by, sharing in the discomfort of a rawed mind and the comfort of a yellow-toned fluorescent bulb.

It’s unspoken kinship. Keigo never had time for it in the past, but now it was all he had. There had to be some cruel irony in it (as if there wasn’t enough in his life), but he couldn’t make himself mind.

Everything he’d once excelled at, everything he had was gone. He was barren and stripped (don’t think about it—), exposed to the elements in all the worst ways. At least the hospital was clean and safe, relatively.

It feels safest with you near.

Sure, your conversations were clearly that of two horribly broken people, but that wasn’t new or surprising. It simply was.

“Do you know constellations?” You ask one night, a colder one, where you’ve got two blankets over your lap.

Keigo thought for a moment, “A handful, but I never took to stargazing, you know?”

You don’t relate, just chew your lip, the light of the dim lamp dancing across your irises.

“Can I show you some?”

“...Constellations?”

“What else?” You crack a smile. “Come on, pretty eyes.”

Whatever you’d like, he’d do.

He can’t refuse, he’s already getting weak for you.

Shifting, Keigo joins you on your typical couch for the first time. Your IV poles, thrumming and humming their own rhymes harmonize, quietly and mostly imperceptible.

You regard him even more warmly, so close, a little smile playing on your lips.

“What’s your sign?”

Keigo deadpans, “What?”

“Like... astrology. What’s your sign?”

You wiggle your eyebrows, knowing the double-meaning of your words.

Flirting again.

Since when had he been so bad at it?

“Capricorn,” He huffs back. He keeps his back off the stone-like cushions of the couch— his scarring had been itchy the whole day prior— so itchy—

You tap the plastic-y fabric gap between the two of you, grabbing his attention, “Hey, pretty eyes. Stick with me, let me show you where that one is.”

So, you do.

Your light-filled eyes trace the sky’s nighttime freckles, searching until you find what you’re looking for.

“There,” Your finger raises, tracing the patterns in the air. “That’s Capricorn, can you see?”

Not really, the stars are just a meaningless smatter. If there’s some sort of pattern he’s supposed to find, he comes up with none.

“Not in the slightest,” Keigo rolls his eyes. “Show me again?”

You don’t reply, but rather scoot a bit closer, mirror his hunch and pose with precision and tiny adjustments.

He doesn’t dare to breathe as you carefully grab his arm, extending it. You lay your cheek over his bicep, watching from the closest view to his own that you could.

“Do you see now?”

The only starlight he sees is right in front of him, soft cheek pressed against atrophying muscles. Sharing your heat so graciously as you would so easily come to, you chatter about the stories that are written in the stars, by all cultures, for so long.

Keigo hears, but he’s far more focused on how he wishes you were even closer.

...

After that night, you always share the same couch.

You face forward, right leg always extended and stiff-looking. Keigo doesn’t mind, hardly notices. He faces you, fragile back bandaged and kept away from the unforgiving grit of the uncomfortable couch. It looks a bit uncomfortable, the posing of it all, but with the words flowing easier, neither of you mind.

You keep showing him stars, the constellations you can remember and see in the night sky.

Keigo makes fun and crafts his own, connecting new dots and winding stories about them.

“See those three there?” He guides your hand, close enough to share your breath. “That’s the comb of the chicken. Star comb, if you will.”

You snort, rolling your eyes and pulling your hand from his grip, “There’s no cock in the stars, pretty eyes. Chickens can’t fly anyways.”

You both freeze.

Keigo’s mouth goes dry—

Chicken can’t fly.

As much as you’re both learning to be human again, there isn’t talk of your injuries. Maybe, there’s mutual curiosity (you’ve been here two months. just for a broken arm, why?), but like fuck Keigo wants to broach the subject.

“S-sorry,” you stumble over your words, physically retreating. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

It is a fact, chickens can’t fly, but Keigo isn’t a chicken. He’s a debauched, defamed hero whose home is the same set of a milky white, hospital ward walls. Once, a real hero, before the war, before selling his morals just for a chance at rest, before blue flame— burning—

“Pretty eyes,” Your voice trembles, shaking and lonesome. “Come back here, now. Come on.”

You’re holding his cheeks, unkempt nails pressing (blessedly) a bit too hard into his cheeks. The heat of you is so close, almost scalding him, but he wants more of it, more of the heat that doesn’t burn—

“You’re okay, pretty eyes, s-see?” You hold yourself together, jerking your head to the wide window and glittering stars. “We’re just stargazing.”

Keigo’s has tears leaking down his face, but neither of you acknowledge them. You release him, quietly spinning another tale about a hero hung in the cosmos. He thanks you for it silently by tugging you into his side.

(It was the first night you really touched him.)

(The light in your eyes was so close, he wanted it all for himself.)

...

They’re running out of healers to try.

From the weakest to the strongest quirk, no one could revive his dead wings. There was no root to push from the scar tissue, nor resolve left in Keigo to try and make new pins and feathers sprout.

His back isn’t fertile. It’s just as poisoned as the rest of him.

...

He wonders where you disappear to during the day. He takes his strolls then, too. Waves to nurses these days, not charming, just friendly, trying to make a little brightness.

There’s one day where he asks one of the nurses he knows best for a pair of scissors.

She looks at him, worried, “Don’t tell me we need to put you on psych watch.”

“What? No,” Keigo shakes his head, shaggy hair quivering around the frame of his face. “I just need a bit of a haircut.”

“... We can ask the Commission to bring someone in—”

“I can do it myself.”

She doesn’t argue with the firmness of his voice, rather, she hands him a pair of safety scissors with bright purple handles. They’re for a child, but Keigo’s fine with that. They’d do.

When he was younger, and in a pinch (and so poor he tried to eat grass and lick scraps from metallic packaging of discarded junk food wrappers) he’d cut his hair with his own feathers.

Safety scissors would be even easier.

It did mean that he had to confront his own visage, which he had gotten too good at avoiding.

The bathroom in his room is small, it would’ve been claustrophobic if he was still carrying a twenty-five-foot wingspan.

But, he isn’t. It was just him and the scars on his back that he definitely wasn’t ready to see.

He’s caught glimpses of himself over the past weeks, but nothing substantial. No view that would’ve given himself time to scrutinize over his imperfection.

The dull hospital mirror reveals too much about him. It feels too vulnerable, makes his chest tighten, as he stares himself in his ‘pretty eyes’.

Purple stamps below his eyes, probably not from sleeplessness itself, just the sheer exhaustion of living. The one under his left is an odd maroon color, mixing with the scar that is burned into that half of his face.

The skin was once soft, plump cheeks always tended too and well taken care of by expensive skincare products. Now, it’s charred and gaunt. Healing, but still obviously scarred heavy and deep. The weak beard he’s been growing (accidently) is patchy around the thickened tissue.

It bothers him—

It doesn’t look like him in the mirror.

It helps to take care of himself for the first time in a long while.

He shaves with the cheap foam and single blade razor they’d given him in the toiletries pack the first days he was there, while he was still numbed out and half-dead. The metal glides over his skin, stripping away the numbness just a little. The stubble and cream slide down the drain and away.

His hair is different. The waves had for so long been pushed back and held that way with the winds of his flights. The longer, feathery patches now hang around his face, dangling down and mingling with the too-long sections that curl over his ears and down his neck.

Wetting his hair, he cuts away what he can.

It’s blunt, messy, and not elegant.

All the same, the trim feels good.

Though, his mood goes sour when the screaming starts for the day.

The far wall of the bathroom was shared by him and his shrieking neighbor, and he took great care to never shower when they were singing their awful chorus. It grates on his ears; he should’ve been a bit empathetic to their suffering, but he didn’t care that much. It was so regular, that the screaming that might’ve once sent each one of his feathers (don’t think about, don’t fucking think about it) sharp as the razor in his hand, didn’t bother him in the slightest.

Just a poke at his temple, a jab and a drop of water that irks him more than anything else.

It is a... somewhat pleasant distraction. He can focus more on his fellow patient than his own haggard appearance, the scar, the lack of red at his back—

It’s all okay, ‘okay’, until the patient starts babbling.

“M-make it stop!”

Keigo stills.

A scream tears through the drywall. Even without his wings, it makes him thrum, far-too sensitive.

“Help!” The voice yelps. “HELP!”

There’s a thud and thump from the other room.

“Please, please!”

Keigo’s heart stutters in his chest, and the razor falls from his hand, clattering into the sink.

“MAKE IT STOP!”

It’s you.

It’s your screaming and shrieking that’s burrowed in his ears. It’s your voice that’s trembling in desperation that has him running out of his room, nearly pulling out his IVs as the pole teeters and follows behind him.

Why are you screaming?

Why have you always been screaming?

A nurse is trying to stop him, urging him to settle but he can’t. There's an urgency in his chest he hasn’t felt since back before and he has to heed it. He needs to.

He pulls his forearm from the nurse’s grasp, hissing in his own pain, muscles pulling and aching with disuse but he doesn’t care.

The nurses drag him back from your door, and they almost have him, almost have him on the ground.

And then he smells burning—

Cloth.

Flesh.

And something in him snaps.

He clocks the nearest nurse with a tight fist, ignoring his atrophied muscles and kicking with everything he could muster.

They release him, probably out of shock. (He’d been such a model patient, so complacent and quiet until then.)

Then, he stumbles into your room, and sees you, and wants to die.

...

There’s plenty of times in his life where Keigo felt like an animal. When the Commission first got their hands on him, they took to studying and picking his quirk about to figure out the most efficient way to rebuild it to their needs and uses. Now then, he felt very much like an experiment, only half-human. He was too young to really ‘get’ it, but the feeling persisted.

Sometimes, he felt similarly when he played celebrity. The talk shows, the modeling and media felt hoops he had to jump through just to get a decent night’s sleep. It was an additional job aside from heroics, one he excelled at and entertained him. But that didn’t mean each flash of a camera didn’t suck him dry of a bit of his dignity.

He was sure you had to be feeling similarly.

You’re writhing and arching in your bed, curls of smoke rising from your papery hospital gown. Every machine in your room is screaming with you, bloody and loud and angry—

And scared. Keigo recognized well, and it drove pins into his heart to realize it was you.

It’s even worse when he realizes some part of you is burning.

At your bedside, he freezes.

Nylon straps wrap around your wrist, around your cast, and keep you held tight to the bed. You’re tied down, held to the plastic bed frame as you wretch and scream.

You don’t even notice him.

The smoke rises from your burning hospital gown. He rips it away, tears the burning section away with his shaking hand. It’s crass, and Keigo sees a bit too much. The gauze wrapping your leg below is burning as well, in little veins of char that burns black and smoldering.

Keigo tears it all away, he tears and tears—

And then he sees the wound.

He was trained, once, to see this type of horror and not bat an eye. That training was gone, and all that remained was his starshine with a writhing, molten wound.

Keigo is numb as the nurses drag him back to his room, trying to decide if he prefers the apathy and numbness to injury that his old heroism gave him, or the blinding pain of empathy when someone you... care about is hurt.

He can’t decide which he’d rather suffer with.

...

You appear in the common room a few nights later.

Keigo still takes his walks in the late evening, even if you aren’t there. If anything, he needs them more. He’s restless, always listening for the screams or howls from the next room over. His annoyance towards them was gone, and all that remained was a concern that knotted in the pit of his stomach.

There’s a sigh of relief on his lips when he finds you, nestled into a pile of blankets with your IV pole, watching the stars with sad eyes.

He joins you on your couch, cracking a decent joke that you don’t respond to.

Then, there’s silence.

It’s as loud as the stars are bright. The expanse of sound is filled by the hum of the cold air and distant beeping.

“I’m sorry,” Your voice shakes. “You shouldn’t have seen me like that. It’s not... Easy to look at. Or, I imagine it’s not.”

Keigo wants to rip the apology from your tongue and burn it.

“No, please, it’s alright,” He’s begging too much. “I get it.”

As much as he can, anyways.

You’re quiet again, biting your lip so hard it must be close to breaking skin.

“Can we... talk about things?” You ask, softer. “I can’t keep pretending.”

“...’Pretending’?” Keigo knows, but he selfishly wants to hear you say it.

“Well, you didn’t think I’ve been here for two months for my bum arm, right?” You laugh weakly. “And I’m well-aware that you don’t have wings.”

We just don’t talk about it.

“It’s nicer to look at the stars and pretend everything’s fine,” Keigo lays the statement down and regrets it.

Your fist tightens, jaw clenching.

And there’s more silence.

It’s deafening to Keigo, he wants to speak, scream, but you’re quiet next to him. He can fill voids with his voice so, so easily, yet he turns in on himself.

“I know, it’s all hard,” Tears drip down from your words, though your cheeks remain dry. “I know, but there was a War two months ago, and we’re still holed up in a place like this, and we never talk about why.”

You turn to him, light dancing slowly in your eyes. Your lips part to speak, but no sound comes out.

“... I didn’t want to ask.” Keigo speaks, gaze shifting down to your leg. He questioned why a broken arm would keep you here, but you can’t just ask that. “It’s bad form to ask a stranger about their injuries unnecessarily when they’re traumatized.”

“But we’re not strangers, not anymore.”

Keigo can’t disagree.

...

You had been in a conbini when Gigantomakia tore through your little suburb. It was a few miles away, but the ground shook as if the goliath was just outside the automatic doors.

Your demon was near, though.

It was a man from the PLF who tore into you so badly. Just some random, emboldened civilian who ascribed to Destro’s ideology hard enough to think about taking out his frustrations on ‘weaker-quirked’ individuals.

That meant the young couple getting slushies in the corner, the old man behind the cash register, and you.

(You’d told your roommate you’d be home quick to help her study—)

(Your roommate is dead, under several tons of rubble.)

“The old man died before the heroes even started trying to rescue anyone. The couple was begging each other to hold on, but only one of them lasted. He died within a few weeks of being taken here.”

There was just you.

You’d hardly been touched by the man, the fucking villain, who’d set his mark on you. But it was more than enough to leave a writhing scar.

Keigo asks to see it, and quietly, you oblige him.

You’re in a gown, you always have been. The hem of it is pulled up by your visibility shaking fingers, and slowly reveals the scar in the lowlight of the ever-present lamp. He’d seen it once, but that didn’t change how startling it was.

It’s molten.

The skin is gnarled, twisting and scarred worse than anything Keigo’s ever seen. It was like the gore of a torn flesh was frozen over your right side, from your calf, to your thighs to your pretty hips—

“It goes higher, but that’s not exactly couth to show you,” you joke, but neither of you laugh.

“... It’s not moving anymore?”

“Oh, yeah. It calms down, when it’s dark. Nighttime and all. It stops being so ornery.”

Keigo has a laundry list of questions, but with the expression on your face that just bleeds exhaustion into the air, and the fresh burns from the restraints on your wrists, he keeps quiet.

Maybe, three months ago, he’d jabber on about the injury, try to gode some information out on the villain, profile him, track him and beat the tar out of him for touching you—

But this is the present, and Keigo is a wingless soul. All he has is a prescription for painkillers on a rigid schedule, and the awareness that you both appreciate each other.

Keigo scoots to your uninjured side, lifting his arm up and around your shoulder. It hurts, it fucking hurts, but he doesn’t mind.

You tense for a moment, turning to him with wide eyes, scared like he’s never seen.

Then, you melt into him.

...

Keigo’s busy with healers the week, though none speak his language, literally. They’re international, foreign aid that’s been flown in to try to pick up the disaster of a society that’s been left in the wake of the War and the dissolution of Tartarus.

None of them make progress.

As much as it burns (haha) him to his core, he’s accepting the reality, slowly but surely.

...

Endeavor visits him.

It’s the morning after a particularly sweet night with you. You still sit together in the starlight, though you’ve run out of constellations to show him. It’s less quiet than it used to be, just little banter that flows between the two of you. It feels more genuine than his old bluntness, welcome after so much odd tension when you first started enjoying the heat of each other’s presence and the far-off stars.

You’d taken to spending time together during the day as well... As much as you could. Strapping you to your bed was for your own safety. Your broken arm had snapped the first few days at the hospital because of the severity of your spasms and flares. The nurses keep you wrapped up, but Keigo drags a chair close to your bed and talks to you as much as he can.

It helps you relax.

Though the days fill with tension as you try to negate the inevitability of your molten scar coming to life, nights remain calm.

And so, so sweet.

You’ve taken to tucking into his side, telling him little treasured facts about the cosmos. It’s easier to guide his eyes like that, as your cheek rests over his collarbone.

It lingers with him, the feeling of your casual touch, so tentatively offered and so graciously received.

He traces his own constellations over your gown, mindful of the flesh beneath that heats beneath his palm when he gets too close.

After one of those wonderful, early nights, Enji Todoroki enters his room with all of the gusto one would expect. Which is not very much, but the sheer presence of him is enough to make Keigo quake.

Just like the little boy from Kyushu, Keigo regards him with stars in his eyes.

The hero, not a speck of flame on him (thank god) pulls up a chair near his bed. Keigo sits cross-legged and cocks his head to the side.

“What brings you to my neck of the woods, number one?” Keigo smiles.

“Number fifteen.”

“... What?”

“Since my injuries, I’m mostly on bedrest,” Enji replied, folding his hands on his chin. “I’m number fifteen now, and that number will more than likely just drop. I’m not much of a hero with only one lung. I’m planning to officially retire at the end of the month.”

Keigo’s chest goes tight and it feels like he’s joking. He tosses on a tight smile.

“This is hardly time for a pillar—“

“I’m no pillar. I never was,” Enji sighs, running a hand over his scarred cheek. “The kids can handle this.”

Keigo breaks so easily these days.

“That’s not fair—” He had been tossed into this all too early and god it fucked him up—

“Hawks,” Enji sighed. “There’s hardly anyone left to fight. They’re either dead, missing part of themselves, or gone.”

“So, you’re giving up?”

“If I didn’t, I’d die.”

Coward.

No, just honest and smart.

“Since when are you this selfish?” Keigo’s own words surprise him, but he doesn’t back down. “And this wordy, number one? You’ve changed.”

He spits the last phrase like an insult. He hates himself for it and would hate himself even more for it later.

Enji’s face remains solid and unwavering. The twitch in his brow is the only indication that Keigo’s words were even heard.

“Since we lost, Keigo. Things have changed.”

Keigo knew, of course, but it didn’t stop the anger from rolling his belly.

“Oh, like I don’t fucking know,” If Keigo still had his wings, they would’ve been extended and fluffed, angry as the pinched skin of his forehead.

This was his hero, he couldn’t be giving up too—

“Rest, Hawks,” Enji stand up, “You deserve it.”

Seems Endeavor really died. Enji’s face is worn, his expression neutral and jaw slack. He looks hollowed out and empty, not an ounce or morsel of fight left in him, even for a flightless bird in need of some encouragement.

There’s more to be said, but Keigo’s too angry to listen and Enji doesn’t have the energy to try.

Whatever news the old hero had come to bring was left undelivered.

...

You settle together the next few nights, both so damn tired, even though you’ve done nothing other than lay around a hospital for so-many weeks.

The air always vibrates between the two of you, that comfortable warmth shared between mingling breath and senses. Light dances in your eyes, twisting and bouncing like something otherworldly.

(Maybe it is.)

Your fingers lace together, held in Keigo’s lap. You trace the others hand in relaxing little lines and shapes, trying to soothe each other’s wounds, always.

“One of the doctors said the scar might start shrinking,” You break the tender silence, nosing into his jaw in the same way an affectionate cat would. “They’re not entirely sure, but it’s been stable for a few days.”

Keigo’s feathery (don’t think about it) eyebrows shot up, “That’s amazing, and there’s only a few spasms this week, too.”

(He kept good tabs on you, he had to.)

You hummed in agreement, a sad smile playing on your lips as it so often did.

With a quick blink, the light bouncing in your eyes faded, and the world felt a bit colder.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do when I get out of here,” You pressed closer to him. “There’s shelters, and some cities are taking refugees, but I don’t—”

Your jaw clicks shut, brow furrowed and mood soured.

(Keigo, mind you, is still focusing on the lack of light in your eyes and the chill of the air in the room.)

Something stirs, deep in his gut, but he doesn’t say anything. How Keigo used to have such a mouth, he didn’t know. These days, all he can is act, like somehow the loss of his wings came with the loss of his tongue.

Tugging you by the waist, mindful of the tender scar, he pulls you close, internally resolving.

...

She, the main Suit, visits him.

(It’s his last visitor at the hospital.)

There are no trumpeters, guards, or the like. It’s just the haggard president, matching Keigo with his dark circles and creased with new wrinkles and far-more grey sections in her slicked back hair.

The air stands still as she pulls up a chair, burying her head in her hands.

She, the Main Suit, has never been one to inquire as to how he is. Many of the others at the Commission were sweet, kind to him in youth, but she was all business.

Some things never change.

She breaks the silence of the room, “... do you want to be done, Hawks?”

The cords in his chest tighten, gaze going sharper.

He doesn’t answer.

They meet each other’s gazes; twenty years of fucked-up emotion being shared between the pair of them.

“We’ve done everything. Every healer, every quirk, every treatment, conventional or otherwise,” she’s too soft. “There’s nothing left to try.”

He knew that, he had to know that, right?

His throat feels sticky as he swallows down bile, the scars on his back burning anew. It’s somatic, it has to be, but his flesh crawls and writhes just like yours. His starshine. He hates the way his mind is racing, just as fast as it always has, but his body lacks the ability to keep up.

He grounds himself in the thought of you, his starshine. Your body. Your heat.

His narrow pupils refocus on the light tremble in her shoulders.

“I’m being honest, so I’ll ask again,” She meets his gaze, grey eyes as soulless and full as ever. “Do you want to be done?”

“Well, obviously I can't fight—”

“I mean it. All of it, Hawks. Maybe a few media appearances, but all this... shit. You’ve done enough.”

You’ve done enough.

The words bounce around in his skull.

“Do you want to be done?”

Done with being a hero.

That’s all he’d ever been, right? That is him, he is Hawks, for fuck’s sake, no one other than Dabi (may he rot and die and immolate in hell) even called him his actual name in years.

Keigo is Hawks.

His mouth is dry, and he tries to ignore the tears pricking his eyes. He’s not sure why he’s beginning to cry, and definitely not sure why tension is draining from his shoulders as he sighs out an answer.

“I’ll be done.”

You’ve done enough.

...

Hospital beds are a hot commodity, and now that Keigo had thrown in the towel (along with everyone else) to stop trying with his wings, he was to be discharged within a few days.

(“Just a few more days to adjust your body to your new medications—”)

He’d stopped listening after that.

...

Your last night together is so bittersweet, you taste it on each other’s tongues.

You have an episode early in the day. Your screaming wakes the floor, the burning smell of flesh cementing that it was you.

Keigo’s only half-lucid when he shoves into your room, holding your hands while nurses desperately try to administer pain medication.

It’s too much for you, the crawling edges of the scar once again consuming you in the molten, glowing amber veins of heat that tore through you so terribly.

You sleep the day away. Keigo stays with you for much of it, stroking the bones in the back of your hands.

...

He fucks you for the first time, that night.

His own IVs have been removed, he’s to be discharged first thing in the morning—

And he wants one more night of stargazing, please, please—

(Why’s he clutching at you so dearly?)

But you’re not in the common room.

Rather, you’re under a few thin blankets, eyes tired and lightless. Your arm is out of its cast, laying over the bed clothes. It scares him shitless at first as he tentatively enters. It’s you though, and the moment you see him, it’s like a flame, a good one, heats the room full and wide. A few specks of light dance in between your irises as your skin crinkles in a gentle smile.

You both know he’s leaving tomorrow.

The knowledge settles in the room like a weight that neither of you can move. So, Keigo takes to it and does what he can.

As opposed to his normal perch next to his bed, he sits beside you, removing the restraints on your wrists and helping you to sit up.

Keigo fishes around in his pocket, pulling out a folded square of paper and placing it at your bedside. It’s his phone number, an odd detail. Relationships usually shared far-earlier.

But there is nothing linear or normal about the two of you, or the situation you both sit and stewed in.

You both are making peace with it at your own pace.

The bed creaks as you move to sit beside him, legs dangling from the bed. There’s gooseflesh beneath your gown, the boring pattern obscured by the darkness of the room, but the molten lines of the scar ever-visible.

“I’m glad you’re getting out of here.”

But I wish that you weren’t leaving.

His hand finds your waist, careful like he always is, but so giving in the same breath.

“I am too. It’ll be nice to be.”

But I’m going to miss you.

It’s inherent, and has been forever. Since the moment you both stargazed in the common room and watched the worlds high above twist and shine without regard to your own hells, you’ve been ensnared in the other and neither of you have a want or need to let go.

Even with the inevitably of progress.

Keigo drowns in these thoughts, and has been since Endeavor visited and he was reminded of the harsh reality just outside of their tree-ringed prison. The reality he has to return to—

He presses his lips to yours, more desperate and needy than he had before.

Keigo had taken his share of you before, little pecks and the rub of the bridge of his nose over your jaw and cheeks. He had been a bit greedier with his hands, uncaring of the eyes of the night nurses when he’d touched you in the common room.

But he’s insatiable that last night.

The sheets of the plastic bed are too scratchy, they’re too harsh for you, and it burns Keigo to his core as he lowers you down. He cradles what he can, as your fingers latch onto his clothes (real clothes) and tug him as close as you can get.

The machines in your room cry, but they’re forgotten.

You nip at his bottom lip, dragging yours across his clean-shaven jaw before laying into his neck with kiss after kiss. His muscles shake, holding him over you, both of you atrophied but uncaring.

You suck a deep, throbbing bruise on the fragile skin of his neck. It’s something dark that won’t fade for a week. The thought stirs something in his chest, a white-hot feeling that wants to crack his ribs and consume him. He doesn’t give in, he can’t—

“Stay with me, pretty eyes,” you whisper, so sweet and gentle as you push floppy strands of hair from his face. “Stay here, just for a little while longer.”

The reminder jolts him back, back to you, and the way your body (so tired, but unwavering) jumps and rolls under his touch. He’s a glutton for attention, always has been, but your particular brand and sounds keep pulse hot and hard.

Shaky fingers pull his shirt over his head, sweaty palms push the gown over your hips. By the starlight, you’re both seeing too much of each other, but this is a goodbye, there’s no time to dwell on the discomfort.

Keigo tries to be careful as he adjusts your legs, tries to be mindful of the raw skin and flesh that makes you whine and half-writhe. You clutch at him, still trying to pull him closer despite the proximity and heat, like you need him as opposed to just wanting him.

There’s no fanfare in it, just more rushed kisses and the swirling of fingertips over covered clit. You catch each other’s gasps in the mingling of breaths you share. It’s choking, suffocating, yet entirely not enough. You beg, quietly, for more. Your fingers latch onto his wrist and urge him to help pull your panties off and away.

More, more, more.

By the time he slides into you, you're still tense, but so is he, and in a pile of tension and fear and wishful-thinking, you both come undone, and undone, and undone—

...

Keigo leaves the next morning.

The press is there, flash bulbs blinding him after so long with just fluorescents and starlight. He manages an easy wave or two, no autographs or gleaming smiles, just business and numbness that he needed to hold onto, so he didn’t fucking break.

He slips into the Commission’s car and leaves behind the hospital, you, and its wall of man-laid greenery and prays to forget it all quickly. He has enough to mourn.

...

Keigo wants to off himself when he arrives back at his penthouse.

How can he not?

His ‘home’ (if he couldn’t even call it that) is a dusty, time capsule of everything before. Before he got fucked up with the League, before the PLF, before the war, before Jin—

Every untouched bit of his life from when it was a few, precious fractions better stands unturned. A discarded jacket, wing slits visible and frayed. Scattered dead feathers that make his skin crawl. Memorabilia too, old merchandise that he never cared much about, but he definitely didn’t need to be seeing it now that ‘Hawks’ had burned up and died.

All disgusting reminders.

Something burning fills the base of his skull when his gaze fixates on one of the old plumes. He reaches out to touch the spine of it, instinctually expecting a little jolt of feeling from it, like he always had.

But there’s nothing. It’s dead, decaying, and so is he.

The reality of it breaks him, quick, hard and hot. He burns alive a second time.

He clears the liquor cabinet while blaring music from his over-priced stereo system loud enough to make his ears ache and throb. The music isn’t drowning anything out, but it’s better to pretend.

He finds a bottle of old pills and downs them with a few swigs of expensive whiskey and lets go.

...

When he comes to, he’s staring into a smashed mirror, with his own nails crusted in blood from thin welts in the skin of the scar on his face.

Much to his chagrin, he hasn’t forgotten anything. The memories of blue flames, red feathers, and the smell of your skin mixed with isopropyl alcohol feel brighter than ever. He grounds on them as he sobers up, latching onto the pain of his scar tissue and the solace you gave.

And won’t ever give him again.

Something in him wilts as he defeatedly goes to his phone, arranging any number of things to get him the fuck out.

...

The penthouse is sold, his more important belongings gathered in bland boxes.

And he leaves. There’s no sentiment holding him there, not anymore.

Fukuoka is gone and some distant memory as he drives (yes, he forgot that he had that skill) him and his things to his new home.

His penthouse had been immaculate. Crisp interior design, new shapes and colors that were on trend. He was hardly home to appreciate the modern beauty of it, but he’d received enough compliments from random hookups to know that it landed aesthetically.

But honestly?

Who the fuck cared?

His penthouse had been sold to the highest bidder and far behind as he arrives at his new, high home in the sleekness of his far-too fancy, disused car.

...

He gets a call from an unknown number, another one, on some snowy day, deep in winter.

Keigo debates answering it. He almost lets it slip to voicemail. The only calls worth answering are the handful from the Commission that he has to heed, or the odd one from Rumi, Fuyumi, and on occasion, Endeavor.

Not random numbers, he has no patience for it.

Yet, he answers it lazily.

“Washed up hero, how can I help you?”

“P-Pretty eyes?”

His heart stutters in his chest, he swears—

“Starshine?” He sounds breathless, the air leached from his chest as he white-knuckles his thighs.

He’d given up on you contacting him, yet there you were, or at least your voice, mechanical and high bouncing around preciously in the walls of the cabin

There’s a moment of silence, nearly, just your light breathing that receiver picks up.

Your voice trembles when you break it, “Y-yeah, it’s me, I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call—”

You don’t need to be sorry; he would wait for you forever, and then some.

“I d-don’t actually have a phone? Mine got trashed, uh, back then. I’m on the hospital’s line.”

Keigo hadn’t really considered that, he’s slipped the paper with his number on your bedside without a thought.

How much had you lost?

“No worries, chickadee,” Keigo is sure his smile is audible. “Why call now? Miss me too much?”

He had no idea.

You laugh, though it soured as you spoke, “I get discharged tomorrow.”

Keigo’s heart seizes again and he’s sure he’s going to go into cardiac arrest.

“The guy who gave me the scar and all? He fucked up a few other people, word eventually got here. Once the scar stops... glowing, it rests. If you make it until then, you’re good.”

And alive.

“The whole injury is stable, has been for a week now,” Surprisingly, there’s no relief in your voice. “They need my bed, so they’re releasing me.”

No, no, no.

Where will you go?

Keigo doesn’t say it, but the question hangs in the air and is quickly answered.

“They got me a spot in one of the shelters close by... It’s only a couple hours by train!” You try to sound happy, but it’s so hollow and unnatural; it makes Keigo physically sit up.

No, no, no.

That won’t do.

“... What won’t do?”

Keigo hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud.

Something is buried in his chest, something warm and molten, like the old veins of your scar, just kinder and better. It’s full of urges, so seldom used, selectively as needed throughout his career as a hero.

The need to keep something precious safe.

The thing hasn’t thrashed in months.

Yet now? It’s practically screaming.

“Pretty eyes?” You sound scared through the phone. “A-Are you alright? I can call back—”

“No, don’t, do not.” Keigo lets the flame fill his chest, welcoming it. “You’re not going to that shelter.”

He has something to protect.

“I don’t have another choice—”

Someone.

“You do.” Keigo keeps his voice even, the muscles in his back writhing. If he still had his wings, they’d be puffed out and large. Impassioned with feeling he finally let breath between his ribs. “I’ll come get you, tomorrow.”

“... P-Pardon?”

He doesn’t hesitate, and for a moment, he starts to feel like his old self.

“Come home with me, starshine.”

++++++

thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!! 💗

look out for parts 2 and 3!!!💞

ko-fi

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #hawks x you #takami keigo x you #hawks fanfic #hawks imagines #my hero academia #mha x reader #anyways tag wall #enjoy loves #smorch

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dr3amofagame · 3 years

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haha your snippit abt the dispenser got me thinking.

Dream gets let out of prison and he talks constantly, whatever is on his mind. And he's positive all the time. To a fault where people walk over him. And it doesn't make sense because he was tortured right???? But after an incident they find out it's because he hates the sound of silence and needs constant reminders that other people are there. Also he was punished for any negative emotions in the prison so his default is happy now,,,

hi anon !! this concept makes me SO goddamn sad ,, the idea that he Has to be happy bc anything else would mean punishment im so *punches the walls*

this ,, ficlet is honestly. pretty ooc, not really related to the ask at all, and mostly an excuse for me to cry abt c!dream and c!punz for an excessive amount of time (technically the vote on twitter was supposed to have this as c!sapnap pov, but i just wrote one for him so i went for c!punz instead. mostly bc i wanted to write him LMAO). hopefully someone enjoys it despite *gestures vaguely* all of that mess

tw: trauma, disordered eating, implied torture/abuse, blood, injuries, unhealthy coping mechanisms, emotional distress, thoughts of murder/mercy killing, mentioned animal death, dark content

In the end, it’s all rather anticlimactic, the complete opposite of Dream’s vault and the whole fiasco of adrenaline and theatrics that had made up that day. Quackity ended up having one too many drinks, bragged about the wrong thing to the wrong person - Punz doesn’t know the specifics, only knows that one thing has led to another and suddenly Sapnap was screaming at his ex-fiancé, sword pointed at his chest and tears streaming down his eyes in the middle of the Community House floor, everyone else stood around and watching. A look into Quackity’s office said everything he didn’t - the chests and chests of used and new tools, shiny and sharpened and completely rusted over with blood and everything in between. There’s been a balled up shirt in the wastebasket, completely unsalvageable from how saturated it was with blood, more red than white, and perhaps most chilling of all the calendar, marked with X after X in red pen, going back months and speaking to their utter failure to see what had been happening all but right in front of them.

With Quackity down, Sam caved not too long after, and with his input getting into the prison was no challenge at all. The only thing holding them back were bad memories and the tense, worried edge to Sam’s jaw as he led the small group of them - himself and Sapnap, actually entering the facility, Bad and Puffy waiting outside - carrying them through winding corridor after winding corridor and lava pit after lava pit, until they’d come to stand before a chasm filled with flowing lava, slowly draining before the main cell.

“I- I have to warn you,” Sam had muttered, uncharacteristically hesitant, “it looks…pretty bad,” and Punz would’ve questioned him further, but the lava had fallen far enough to reveal the topmost edge of the cell, so they let Sapnap hound the Warden for information as they directed their full attention on the cell itself and holy shit.

Nothing Sam said could’ve possibly have prepared them for the sight - it was a complete fucking bloodbath, crimson painting the walls and smeared over the floor and splattered over every visible surface like some abstract art experiment gone wrong. The stench of iron and burning flesh and viscera was awful, even over the gap marked by the still-draining lava. Punz strained his eyes; at the very back of the cell, huddled, unmoving, was a similarly bloodstained shape that must’ve been Dream. They remember the crack of Sapnap’s knuckles meeting Sam’s face and breaking his nose, remember themselves chucking a pearl and feeling along Dream’s neck desperately for a pulse - everything beyond that became a swirl of voices and panic and crying that makes their head hurt to think about, so they don’t.

Recovery is…messy. The physical side had been bad enough - pulling Dream out of the cell, barely breathing, limp in his arms and far too light, all Punz could think about was a sheep he’d found a year ago, frail and struggling to breathe, one he’d ended up killing - quick and painless - with a sword through the skull because it seemed kinder than letting it suffer. Watching Dream struggle on the bed, laid up in Bad’s mansion because none of them knew if he’d survive going any further, body resisting the potions they’d slowly forced down his throat after being so over-saturated on them, temperature spiking and heat baking into his skin like the lava from the prison had been imprinted onto his body, Punz feels the same strange mixture of pity and unease, wonders if it’d be a hell of a lot kinder if they just put him out of his fucking misery.

Still, because Dream is a stubborn bastard, against all odds, he ends up surviving - his fever breaks, the potions begin taking effect, and a few tireless, aching days later his eyes flutter open, lucid for the first time in a week. Punz isn’t even in the room when he wakes, only knows that it happens because the too-quiet room suddenly erupts in noise and activity, muffled thumps and sounds of a struggle undercutting Bad’s frantic calls for someone to help, anyone, and they run into the room to find Dream thrashing on the bed, wounds reopened and blood dripping onto the sheets, eyes wild and wide as his head whips from side to side so hard Punz is half-afraid that he’ll straight up break his neck. Somehow, worst of all, not a single scream falls from his lips, nothing but muffled whines squeezing past his mouth, clenched shut, and for a singular, awful second they wonder how long it took before he realized that screaming was useless.

Fortunately enough for them, or unfortunately, it’s not like he can tell the fucking difference anymore, the panic and strain end up with Dream passing out altogether, and they trade uneasy glances with Bad before going to clean off the worst of his wounds. If everything they’re doing feels hopeless, dressing up wounds that’ll be torn open hours later when Dream is awake enough to feel fear but not much else because he’s forgotten what it’s like to not be afraid - well, that’s for them to think and everyone else to pretend not to agree with.

Weeks pass along the same vein - Dream wakes up, panics; they try to calm him down, fails; he falls back into unconsciousness, and they move on and pretend that they’re cleaning up wounds from battle and not from someone that’s literally been tortured for months on end. People stop by, occasionally; Puffy spends more time than not inside the mansion, but hardly ever enters the door into Dream’s room, Sapnap and George drop by occasionally with potion brewing supplies that the rest of them can’t go out to get; once, he’d gone out to the front door to find a chest with an enchanted golden apple, sender nowhere in sight. He knows that the server is busy; Quackity’s admission had brought more than a few secrets to light, and from what they understand, the political fallout has been pretty damn messy. Still, he stays in the mansion, and watches.

He doesn’t exactly know why he stays. They’re not a stellar healer, not beyond what they know to dress their own wounds, and spend most of their time doing odd-and-ends tasks for Bad, who looks more tired than ever. Maybe it’s because he’s seen Dream at his worst more than the rest of them, had been there through his entire fall from grace, watched as his eyes became clouded with anger and madness and a single, desperate hope that he’d chased at the cost of his world and himself. Maybe it’s because they have no ties to the rest of the server - not to Las Nevadas, falling apart under the scrutiny of the eyes that now fall upon it, not Snowchester, caught up in the chaos, not the Badlands, half-dissolved after the fiasco of the Egg and with Sam’s actions having just come to light. Maybe it’s because above everything else, he feels guilty.

They’d thought the prison was the answer. It’d seemed too simple, back in that Vault - a perfect answer, because everyone else was perfectly happy to watch Dream die another time and some part of them had clenched painfully at the thought even thought they knew it was for the best. The prison meant that he’d be alive, if angry, and at some point when he had the time or the nerve or the guts he could go and visit, and they would talk, and Dream would be angry but with time maybe he could even understand.

They hadn’t wanted this. He can’t imagine anyone wanting this.

“Punz?” They don’t jump at the voice at their back, they don’t, but Bad still has a tiny, tight-lipped smile when they turn around anyway, eyes creased in the corners and still not as bright as they’d been before the Egg. Bad looks at him knowingly, setting a bowl of soup into his hands. “For Dream, if you can get him to eat.” He shifts a pointed gaze towards the door. “Maybe you two could talk.”

“About what?” The words come out harsher than they intend, and they take a moment to bite back the mostly self-directed anger that Bad doesn’t deserve to receive the brunt of. “I just-” he waves his hand in the air, trying to articulate the mess that is his relationship with Dream without the words to explain it. “I don’t know, man.”

“You don’t have to talk about everything,” Bad says, calm as always, eyes flicking down to the bowl of soup in his hands. “Just start with the soup.”

Punz sighs. “I’ll try.”

He enters the room in a single, fluid motion, mostly because he knows that if he were to stop at the door then he’d never actually make his way in. Dream flinches back when they enter, eyes going wide and stance going rigid, and the familiarity doesn’t make the sight any easier to bear as they wait, as always, for Dream’s eyes to clear enough for him to realize he’s in the mansion and not stuck in that same obsidian hellhole.

“I brought soup,” they say, finally, when Dream looks up. Dream’s lips twitch up in what he probably means as a smile; between the still-healing gashes on his face and the fear that flashes over his expression, still, it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Thanks.” Dream looks away. “I’ll eat it later.”

Liar, Punz thinks tiredly, moving closer to set the bowl down on the nightstand by the bed. They frown as Dream’s expression goes slack and distanced, again, eyes fixed to stare blankly at the wall once again.

“You should have some now,” he tries, careful to keep his words even. “You need the calories.”

“I’m good,” Dream says, automatic, just shy of sincere. “Thank you.”

“Dream,” they don’t quite succeed at keeping a displeased sigh from falling from their lungs, and bite back a curse at themselves when Dream pulls back with a silent flinch. It’s so goddamn hard, to talk to this version of Dream, both of them feeling around the edges of their relationship like walking on goddamn eggshells. A few months ago, he would’ve straight up called Dream out on his bullshit, get it through his thick skull that the whole ‘I’m fine and don’t need anyone’ act was stupid and completely failing to convince him. Here, they bite back another sigh, look forlornly at the bowl of the soup on the nightstand, sure to go uneaten once again, and force themselves to sound completely neutral when they speak again. “Alright. You’ll have to eat at some point, though.”

“Mmhm,” Dream hums noncommittally, once again staring at the wall. Punz stares at his hands. This is so fucking pointless.

“So,” they say after a few seconds, Bad’s words echoing in their head - they can try to make an effort to talk, sure. It’s just that Dream’s not going to cooperate. “How are you, man?”

The words come out stilted, awkward. He looks up to watch Dream’s expression, as the other man begins to gnaw on the inside of his cheek.

“I’m good,” he says, words deliberately light. “You?”

“Dream…”

“I’m fine.” Dream’s voice sharpens suddenly, breath hitching, before he shakes his head and turns his head away. “I’m fine.”

Punz looks at him incredulously. “Are you serious? Do we need to get into exactly how not-fine you are?” They wave a hand in his direction, jaw clenching when he rears back. “Do ‘fine’ people lose their minds from someone waving at them, now?”

“I-” For a second, Dream glares at him, eyes burning with a familiar, irritated fire that Punz knows all-too-well from having it directed at him a few too many times, before it suddenly dies and Dream is swinging his head back to the bedsheets, hands tightening on the cloth as he stammers. “I- What do you want?”

Punz breathes a soft sigh, regret blooming in the center of their chest. “Sorry,” he mumbles, careful to keep their gestures overly-telegraphed and away from the other man’s face. “I’m just- you’re not okay, man. No one’s expecting you to be okay after...all of that.”

“But why?”

Dream’s voice is small, nearly a sob, and Punz directs wide, alarmed eyes to where he’s hunched in over himself, knees pulled to his chest, hands staring at the sheets pulled over them. “Why?” he says, again, quieter, lip trembling slightly.

“Because you were tortured,” Punz begins, words slow as they watch Dream’s expression, trying to pull out the thoughts behind his averted eyes, “Because the cell was inhumane, and nobody deserves to be treated like that. Because you were hurt very, very badly because of what we did, and none of us are expecting you to be fine right after going through months of trauma.” He pauses. “You know that, right?”

“But I’m out,” Dream says, quiet, disbelieving, instead of answering their question. “I’m out of there. It’s over. It’s- everything’s good,” he whispers, more to himself than to them, hands curling into fists and then uncurling. “I’m- they said I would never get out. And I’m outside, and it’s not- not the cell, and I get real food, and Quackity doesn’t visit anymore,” he shakes his head, eyes squeezing shut as his breath catches in his throat. “I’m happy- I should be happy. Right?”

“Oh Dream,” the other man flinches back, breath quickening, and Punz’s hand stops short from where he’d almost let it fall onto the other’s shoulder. “You don’t have to be happy, man. Not- not after all of that. Not if you’re not ready yet.” Dream’s eyes, wide and wet, rise to look at their own, and they feel more than hear the soft, wounded noise that leaves their lips. “It’s ok to be hurt. It’s ok to be scared. No one’s blaming you, alright? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

This, more than anything, seems to be the breaking point, because Dream collapses forward, hands flying up to pull at his tangled hair before Punz manages to ease them away and into his own hands, watching as he grips onto them until his knuckles go white. His breathing shudders, quiet, even his sobs muffled as to make as little noise as possible, and they murmur meaningless croons and hums as he cries into their chest.

“I wanna- I wanna be okay,” he hiccups, and Punz smooths his hair back behind their hand.

“I know,” he swallows around the lump that has risen in his own throat. “I’m sorry.”

#tw trauma #tw disordered eating #tw torture #tw abuse #tw blood #tw injuries #tw unhealthy coping mechanism #tw emotional distress #tw murder #tw animal death #tw dark content #tw unhealthy eating habits #-> my writing #my writing :D #my asks !!#-> my asks

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