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jangofctts · 4 years

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Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are.

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that?

Not much, as it so happens.

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding—

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail.

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back—should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought.

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in.

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics.

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…

So you ran.

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.

Maker—how did everything become so tangled?

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out.

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift.

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground.

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and—

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times.

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving.

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz.

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now.

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.

“No more bounties.”

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.

“No more hunts alone—“

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.”

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire.

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond.

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails.

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble.

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night.

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over.

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits.

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you.

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow.

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.”

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous.

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh.

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?”

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers.

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling.

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal.

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you.

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now.

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"

He continues without missing a beat.

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck. “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity.

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly.

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.

Maker you hate this fucking planet—

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up.

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar—

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.

You were right.

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand.

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants.

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought.

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath.

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward.

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance.

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips.

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.”

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up.

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you.

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips.

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.”

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug.

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.

Another time for that game maybe.

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you.

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.”

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works.

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.”

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind.

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things.

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim.

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss.

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue.

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?”

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent.

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat.

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches.

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been.

Tag List: @teaofpeach @corrupt-fvcker @nelba @datmando @ben-is-a-hoe @dreams-like-clockwork @aeryns-library @auty-ren @huliabitch @anxiety-riddled-mando @phoenixhalliwell @cptnbvcks @thesoftdumbass @krissology @starlite41 @legally-a-bastard @basslinedweller @cloud-of-roses @elenamiria @goldafterglow @maybege @equalstrashflavoredtrash @wandxrlust @hdlynnslibrary @calamity-queen @sgtbookybarnes @pinkninja190 @lackofhonor @darthstyles @spacegayofficial @absurdthirst @blue-writes-a03 @max--phillips

#din is a certified bottom #ANYWAY welcome to pound town #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader x paz vizla #paz vizla x reader #paz vizla x you #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #star wars #sw #fanfiction #sw fanfiction #my writing #are you in or out?

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streetlight11 · 3 years

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Dystopia pt 8 (FINALE)

Summary: You were an Amity born. You were taught to value kindness and harmony. But you also valued bravery and knowledge. After the test to see which faction best suited you, you were given the choice to either stay in your faction or leave. When you chose to leave your faction for another, your whole life changed and you wondered if it was the right decision. You pondered over it at first, all until you met him.

Theme: Divergent au, strangers to lovers

Genre: mild action [I tried], angst, fluff, slowburn

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence

WC: 3.6k

Pairing: Trainer!Jungkook x Initiate!FemReader

Tips: In this whole series, Y/N is a few years younger than JK. Those who were initiates like Y/N that just ended the Choosing Ceremony, are all the same age. None of these characters portray who the mentioned people are in real life whatsoever! It's just a fictional character!

a/n: Hello! Guess what? You made it to the end! I know this is a short series but I'm more than thankful if you have made it this far. Although it's quite short for a finale, I hope I didn't disappoint you too much! But anyways, here's the final part for this series :) Enjoyyy

~~~

With hurried steps, all three of them quickly hollered their way through the facility in hopes that they would reach the dorms in time. Jungkook’s heart was beating so fast against his chest, unsure if he could even calm himself down knowing something bad had happened to you. That was the last thing he wanted. From the day he saw you a few weeks back, he knew he would like you.

He knew there was something about you that leaves him being all clammy and nervous despite his amazing skill at hiding his emotions. Jungkook never knew he would manage to get close to you, thinking it was impossible considering he was a trainer and you were an initiate.

However, it looks like fate has a different plan for you and him when he saw you training by yourself in the middle of the night. That was when he first got to have a close interaction with you.

Even though it was just him teaching you basic tips on how to improve your skills for each of the different skill sets, he still got to talk to you and also earn your trust after a while. And as the days gradually went by, it was needless to say that Jungkook had grown so fond of you and even had a crush on you.

Yes, a Dauntless Trainer having a crush on a Dauntless Initiate.

How cute.

Ultimately, it all goes downhill for him as he finally arrives at the shared dormitory, only to find the rest of the initiates crowding around at one spot. The minute Jungkook and Changkyun pushed through the crowd, their hearts stopped for a millisecond upon seeing what the fuss was about.

There you were, cradled in Hyunjae’s arms as Gahyeon was crying with her hands desperately pressing what looks to be a completely blood soaked towel against your throat.

Your throat has been slit, not too deep to kill you but just enough to render you voiceless.

You were just turning around on your bed when you peeked your eyes open out of instinct, feeling as though you were being watched. Except, you weren’t expecting for it to be legit. Because the minute you opened your eyes, there was a hooded figure looming over you with a hand raised to their head level with what looks to be a knife from the Training Room.

Fuck!

Before your mind could react, your body seemed to move faster as your arms swiveled to a cross position over your face right when the person launched his attack to your head.

With the tip of its blade just barely missing your right eye socket.

You used all your energy to shove their hand away using your arms, only to kick their stomach harshly. They stumbled back a little before lunging back at you. However, you quickly rolled out of bed to your left, falling to the ground with a soft thud just as they plunged the blade into the mattress right where your chest would’ve been.

You rushed to your feet, making a break for it to the open toilet but your steps faltered when you felt a sharp stab to your calf.

“Ah! Fuck!” You loudly hissed to yourself.

The blade got pulled out of your leg harshly, only for you to flip around on the ground.

The person kneeled over you as they tried to stab you in the face again but you managed to grab their wrist with both hands. They were strong. A little too strong if you say so yourself. However, for some reason, you felt like you knew this person.

You were struggling. You were struggling hard to push their hand away. Mustering whatever strength you had left, you used all your power to push them back.

For a moment, you were glad that they nearly fell off you.

However, you weren’t mentally and physically ready for what he was about to do next. And that was for him to make one swift swing of his arm. It all happened so fast, you didn’t even realize what he did until you felt something wet trickle down your neck. You tried to curse at them but instead you were shocked when nothing came out of your mouth.

That wasn’t until one of your hands reached up for your throat and you felt it.

The open slit, the feeling of wet liquid, your nostrils filling with the strong smell of copper, and finally, bringing your fingers up to see your fingers coated in your own red crimson blood.

Your mouth hung agape as you tried to speak but there was nothing. Tears welled up in your eyes as the person got up and smirked down at you.

“Goodnight loser. I hope you rot in hell.”

They soon took off running, leaving you there helpless with no voice to scream for help, to tell people who did it. But of course, you weren’t stupid. Despite the lack of light, only an idiot couldn’t catch on easily. For there is only one person who calls you ‘Loser’ right from the start. Your doubts were confirmed the minute that nickname left their lips.

Dumb move Yeonjun.

Since you couldn’t scream for help, you slowly began to drag yourself across the room, leaving a long trail of blood behind your leg where you got stabbed only to reach the end of Gahyeon’s bed.

With one swift grasp, you managed to hold onto her shirt and that was enough to wake her.

It took her a second to realize what happened until she saw the trail of blood on the floor and your bleeding throat that you were desperately putting pressure on. She let out a shrilling scream before yelling for help from the others. Everyone began to panic at the gruesome scene, making Hyunjae cradle you while Yunho rushed out to get help.

Jungkook carried you to the hospital wing, with Gahyeon, Hyunjae, Yunho and Changkyun tagging along. One of the nurses inspected your injury, seeing that you’ve lost quite a bit of blood. She mentioned that they had to give you some blood in order to save you and they have to be the same blood type as yours. After much inspection, it was clear that only Jungkook and Hyunjae shared the same blood type as you.

Both of them offered to donate some of their blood to you to save your life. While the two were being drawn of their blood, Changkyun went ahead and brought the other two back to their dormitory to rest. You were already laying there on the medical bed unconscious which means you couldn’t feel the way Gahyeon gently gave your blood coated hands a small squeeze.

“Please be okay, Y/N.” She whispered as a tear rolled down her cheek. Yunho comforted the girl before they both left with Changkyun.

A few minutes later, the nurse managed to collect as much blood as you probably needed after losing them quite a bit. She placed a bandaid over the spots where she injected the tube in their arms. After she was done, she dismissed the two boys but Jungkook asked if he could stay.

She nodded, setting up the equipment so that the blood she collected from the two gentlemen could be transferred into your body through the IV in your hand.

Hyunjae left after caressing the top of your head, wishing you a speedy recovery.

The nurse went ahead and disinfected your wounds before suturing the open cuts and wrapping them with bandages. Once she was done, she excused herself, leaving you alone with Jungkook as the male went over to scoot his chair closer to your side. Jungkook carefully reaches for your hand that didn’t have the needle attached. He brings it up to his lips, kissing your knuckles softly.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry this happened to you Y/N. You truly don’t deserve this…” Jungkook whispered as he stood up to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He felt sorry. He felt sick. He felt confused. But more importantly, he felt furious at whoever did this to you. Of course he didn’t know who but you knew.

You woke up to a sharp pain in your throat, feeling it get itchy like an unusual sore throat. The prickling pain in your right calf made your leg jolt as you shot your tired eyes open. The morning sun filled the room. You carefully looked around to find you alone in the room which looks to be the hospital wing.

Memories from last night suddenly came flashing into your mind like a tsunami, and yet, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it.

Did that really happen?

Was it all a dream?

You almost didn’t want to believe it until your hands reached up to your throat and you felt the soft material of the bandage taped onto your neck. Of course, your stubbornness was trying to make you think otherwise so you opened your mouth to speak.

Truth be told, nothing comes out of your mouth. Absolutely nothing. Not even a sound.

Your thoughts were swirling, a million things running across your head at that very moment. From the incident last night to the final evaluation test you were supposed to have today. The test was supposed to determine your final results of your initiation. It was supposed to determine whether you get to stay in Dauntless or you get kicked out and become Factionless.

Of course, there are two ways of getting that second option. First is by failing Stage 3, and second is of course by not attending the final test at all.

How wonderful.

As your mind was swirling with these complications, you completely missed the figure that was making their way to you. It wasn’t until they were a few feet from you that you looked up only to lock eyes with Jungkook.

Immediately, a whole swarm of emotions came rushing through you as you began to cry. Jungkook rushed over to you, only to hush you.

“Shh… Shh… Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m here. You’re fine. I’m here.” Jungkook cooed as he held you in his arms, feeling the way your arms wrapped around his waist tightly like you were afraid he might disappear if you let go. His heart swelled upon feeling his shirt get soaked from your tears.

Your silent cries only made his heart drop even more. Jungkook caressed the back of your head lovingly, making sure to give you small reassuring kisses to the side of your head as a way to hopefully calm you down.

You both stayed like that for a bit before he sang you a sweet song in your ear.

Jungkook felt your body relax in his touch, happy that his singing made you calmer. After a while, he pulled away slowly to look you in the eye. How is it possible that you are just sitting there crying your eyes out and yet you still looked beautiful? Or maybe it’s just him.

Who knows.

Nevertheless, he wipes your tears with his thumbs and soon smiles down at you.

“You’re so strong. You’re a strong girl Y/N. And I really admire you for that.” He whispered. You couldn’t help but crack a tiny smile when you felt him boop your nose with his own. You had so much to say to him. So much you wanted to share with him. Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on your side today. Just then, Jungkook’s smile faltered and it made you curious.

You reached for his wrist where his hand was just cupping your face softly, to catch his attention. You silently asked him what’s wrong through your worried eyes, hoping he could read your mind.

Thankfully, he did.

“The final stage… It starts in 5 minutes. I talked to the leaders about your current condition. I tried my best to change their mind, Changkyun did try too… Unfortunately, the leaders made an agreement to… disqualify you, which means… y-you…” Jungkook paused as he struggled to convey the message to you but you already knew what it meant.

You violently shook your head at him. You had to redeem yourself. You didn’t plan for this to happen. You were forced to be in this damn medical bed out of your own will. Oh if only they saw who did this to you, would they gladly throw him to the Factionless.

“Decision has been made. Since you can’t physically be there, you’re immediately disqualified.” Jungkook said as you shook your head again. There must be something about the way you were staring at him because at that very moment, it was as though you sent him a message through telepathy.

“Wait a minute… For the final test, you don’t need to talk. You… just need to be physically there for the simulation.” Jungkook said in realization as your eyes lit up.

“Does that mean… she’s immediately disqualified?” Gahyeon asked sadly, only for Hyunjae to nod.

“I mean, technically according to the rules, you are supposed to be here physically for the final test… So, I guess that’s true then…” Hyunjae said.

The rest of them who were gathered by the side of the hall where the final stage would take place, shared mostly the same emotions about you not being able to join them which would render you as Factionless by default even after all your hard work.

However, it looks like someone couldn’t care less about you not making it.

“Who cares? She doesn't belong in Dauntless anyway.” Yeonjun rolls his eyes as he walks to the front, leaning against one of the pillars. Your friends exchanged a few glances to one another, not feeling good about the way he said that. A few minutes passed, and they had just finished the test with the third person on the list. All the initiates were anxious as they waited for their turn. Soon enough, the Dauntless leader calls out the next name to be on stage.

“Y/F/N.”

With that, the room fell silent as the initiates looked at each other with deep frowns on their faces. A few beats of silences went by, not a single sign of you anywhere. Meanwhile, Yeonjun had that devilish smirk on his face as he felt satisfied with your lack of presence.

Unfortunately, just as the leader was about to call out the next person on the list, Jungkook’s voice echoed around the hall from the opposite end of where the initiates were gathered. That’s when Jungkook emerged through the double doors with you beside him.

He had one arm wrapped around your waist as you limped your way to the platform where the chair was waiting for you. Your friends cheered for your arrival as they shouted a string of goodlucks to you. Yeonjun growled, totally not expecting to find you still alive.

Maybe he didn’t cut you deep enough.

You immediately recognized the lady who was prepping the tools to put you into simulation, to be the same lady you met on your Initiation test.

After you sat down, Jungkook gave your waist a little squeeze before he smiled down at you and whispered, “Goodluck.”

He soon left your side as the lady asked you if you were ready. You gave her a small nod, letting her inject the needle into your neck right below your ear.

Once the serum had been injected into your system, it took effect right away, bringing you to your first simulation. It was the same simulations you went through during your Stage 2. They were all of your fears connecting one simulation to the other. You managed to remember what Jungkook taught you during the past few weeks and how to properly handle each situation like a fellow Dauntless.

The minute your last simulation ended, you woke up calmly only for the lady to smile.

“You did well.” She complimented you as she helped you sit up. Jungkook came to your side and very gently led you off the platform.

“Good job. Looks like my tips worked huh?” Jungkook asked, to which you smiled, feeling shy all of a sudden. He guided you to the side only for your friends to rush over to you.

“Sweetie! You’re okay! How are you?” Gahyeon asked as she hugged you, making you return her hug. You showed an ‘okay’ sign with your hand before Yunho ruffled your hair. “Of course you are, you’re a beast Y/N.” His comment made some of them laugh, including you. Just then, your eyes drifted to your left only to meet Yeonjun’s fiery eyes.

All you wanted to do was throw him in The Pit. The last thing you wanted was to see his competitive ass everyday from now on.

However, you weren’t going to kill him despite all the pain he’s caused you.

After letting you meet up with your friends, Jungkook brought you back to his penthouse to let you rest. He carefully laid you down on his bed, pulling his blanket up to your chest while you snuggled into his side with your head resting on his chest. Jungkook chuckled as he caressed your hair, tucking them behind your ear, making sure to let his fingers softly trace the side of your face as he did so.

“No matter what the results are, I’m never leaving your side. That, I can promise you.” Jungkook said softly as you tilted your head up to look at him. You wished you could speak. You wished you could verbally say this to him outloud. Unfortunately you couldn’t.

In the end, you opted for the saying ‘Actions speak louder than words’ and so, with that being said, you lifted your head up and used your left elbow to prop your body up on the mattress.

Jungkook watched you carefully as you slowly leaned in only to press your lips softly on his. Almost instantly, he wrapped one arm around your waist while the other allowed his fingers to tangle into your soft locks. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek, letting your thumb trace the scar he had on his left cheekbone. You felt him smile against your lips as he pulled away for a breath.

His eyes fluttered open to find your cute ones staring back at him. Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle as he gently massaged your scalp in a calming manner.

“If that is your way of telling me what I think it is, then I’ll be the one to confirm verbally that I feel the same way too…” Jungkook’s voice was smooth and sultry in your ears, it almost made you melt into a puddle. Almost.

So with one more kiss from him, your heart raced in your chest as he pulled away to let his lips hover over yours before he said the words you’ve been meaning to tell him.

“I love you Y/N.”

Prologue

6 months had passed, you ended up staying in Dauntless together with Gahyeon, Hyunjae and Yunho. Right after the final stage, you gave Jungkook the weapon Yeonjun used to attack you the night before the final stage. After investigating the weapon and finding evidence that confirms Yeonjun was indeed the attacker, he was immediately thrown out of Dauntless. Rendering him Factionless.

Yes, that jerk deserved it.

Yunho was given the role of a guard due to his unfortunate ranking but hey, at least he wasn’t Factionless.

Gahyeon was a trainer for Dauntless-born initiates while you and Hyunjae were trainers for faction transfers. Although, you only started becoming one after the 3rd month when you were starting to be able to talk again.

And how was your relationship with Jungkook, might I ask?

Well, just splendid.

Your relationship with him only grew stronger each day as he took care of you during the first few months when you still had difficulties to talk. He was always there for you when you needed someone to back you up in heated arguments.

Jungkook took you to visit your parents the day after the final stage. No doubt your parents got upset over what happened to their daughter, they were more than thankful that you were still alive and that Jungkook was there to keep you sane. As the months go by, Jungkook’s feelings for you bloomed.

Today was another day of training for you and your initiates where you managed to guide the new initiates along with Hyunjae’s help.

You were just standing off to the side, letting Hyunjae take over for the knife throwing session when you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrapping itself around your waist. You giggled as you turned your head to find Jungkook’s face just mere inches away from yours.

“Not here, love… We’re in the middle of training.” You whispered, earning a soft chuckle from him before he peppered your cheek with kisses.

“Can’t I just give my beautiful girlfriend some loving kisses before I go to my meeting?” Jungkook teased, making you giggle.

“Aren’t you being needy?” You laughed.

“Only when I miss you…”

“We literally saw each other an hour ago, Kook.”

“I know.” Jungkook grinned cutely at you only for you to push his face away gently while you laughed.

“Hmm, needy indeed.”

“Hey…” He pouted at you. Of course your heart couldn’t bear to see his sad pout so you turned to face him completely. Reaching up with both hands to hold his face, you pressed your lips on his before pulling away to see his silly smile on his face.

“I love you.” You whispered as you felt him hug you.

“I love you more.”

That was the last thing you heard as Changkyun’s voice beckons your boyfriend over from a few feet behind Jungkook. “Come on lovebird, we gotta go… See you later Y/N.” Changkyun chuckled as he wiggled his index finger towards Jungkook. Your boyfriend gives you one last kiss before he jogs over to his older friend.

Maybe joining Dauntless wasn’t as bad as you thought after all.

~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading this series! Do check out my other fics if you're interested to read more of my writings! ❤️

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#bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jk #bts jungkook #bts jeon jungkook #bts fluff #bts jk fluff #bts jungkook angst #bts jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #dystopia series #bts x reader #bts divergent au

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redstainedsocks · 3 years

Text

Wrong

I've had this half-written in my docs for a long while, under the heading "doorstep collapse" so I think it was for a prompt or whump event but I don't remember which one...

Normal story this time, not the AU!

Content: sick fic, fainting, delirious whumpee, hospital setting, use of sedatives, reference to noncon drug use, mentioned death threat and manner of death, overwhelmed caretaker

[Masterlist]

One or two of the team had taken to sleeping at the office at a time so that Zach was never there alone. Archer wanted to stay every night, always eager to be nearby in case something happened, but he’d been convinced to go home at least one out of every three nights.

He’d spent last night at home, sleeping guiltily in his own soft bed, miles and miles from where his best friend was holed up in a sparse, grey room that was as far from homely as Archer could imagine. Though he knew for Zach it was probably the most comfort he’d had in years, which made Archer feel even worse.

He’d slept well at home, exhausted from late nights and stress, but he would much rather have been here. The pull out couch in the break room was lumpy and not long enough for his tall frame but he still preferred it these days. Zach was just down the hall and it soothed a tightness in Archer’s chest to be close by. To know he could walk down the corridor and lay eyes on the person he thought he’d lost.

He was still untangling his own mix of grief and disbelief, but he knew it was easier to bear the guilt of having left Zach with his kidnappers if he was at least around to make sure it didn’t happen again; if he could be there to help Zach feel safe now.

It was easier not to have to examine his emotions and thoughts at all, if he was so exhausted that he couldn’t think straight.

Zach had gone to bed a couple of hours ago and he had sat up flicking through paperwork, trying to keep busy even as his eyes itched with tiredness. His ‘bed’ was made up ready for the night but he was sprawled on top of it, putting off the moment of sleep until he could close his eyes and be instantly drawn under.

He was surprised to hear a soft knock at the door, tentative, the sound of someone off balance slumping on the other side. Maybe Zach couldn’t sleep either? Maybe he’d finally had a nightmare and come for company—something none of them had seen him do yet.

“It’s open,” he said, half sitting up.

The door swung inward and Zach teetered on the threshold. His eyes roved across the room, landing on Archer but darting away again.

“Zach?” Archer was up and off the bed in an instant, but paused a meter or so away, as Zach looked flighty and liable to flinch at any contact.

“Ar-cher.”

“Yeah?”

“I think,” Zach spoke and it was slurred and he clung to the doorframe. “I think something is wrong.”

Archer barely had time to react before Zach’s eyes rolled backward and his body crumpled underneath him. Archer caught him just before his head hit the floor.

Time was standing still and moving too fast all at once. The ambulance had taken what felt like hours to arrive, while Archer sat there cradling Zach—delirious, feverish, burning up and shaking like a leaf.

The private hospital they were in now was clean, clinical, and calm. Quiet. Discrete. It was a good place to keep Zach hidden and secure, but being there still set his teeth on edge. He paced the corridor-like waiting room back and forth, glad that no one told him to stop. The team had all been called; Sasha had been the one who turned up and stayed. She was a quiet, steady presence. And though he could tell from the line of her tense muscles that she was as worried as he was, she let him be the one to fall apart while she held it together.

Zach had a fever, something was infected. The doctors just couldn’t find where or what. They hadn’t been allowed to see him. Yet. Archer hoped that would change soon.

He rubbed his face tiredly. “I should get more coffee.”

“I think coffee is the last thing you need,” Sasha replied, calmly. “Come sit down.”

He glanced at her and shook his head. He needed to be moving, doing. “If he—” Archer couldn’t even bring himself to say it. “After everything, if this is too much for his body to handle…”

“Nothing is going to happen, the doctors are gonna fix it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t I?” She levelled him with a look that could surely make a mountain bow down and grovel.

“How didn’t we notice something was wrong?”

“He doesn’t let us near him, not really.”

Finally, he slumped into a seat beside her. “I should’ve watched out for him more carefully, checked he was okay. I should’ve… I owe him. We just… we can’t let him down again, we have to do better.”

“Archer, we’re doing everything we can,” she said gently.

“It’s not enough!” He snapped. “We abandoned him! We just left him there and now we can’t even take care of him? Can’t even tell what he needs?”

“Montgomery Archer, sit. Back. Down,” she hissed.

He hadn’t even realised he was standing. He looked down at her, the unfairness still burning through him, how could she not care? Until he saw her face, eyes glistening, and realised the strength of will it was taking for her to hold it together.

“This is a goddamn hospital and this is not the time,” she said, squeezing her hands between her knees. “We thought he was dead, and there’s shit all we can do about it now. You can have a breakdown about it later, but not now, not like this.”

He took a seat, sheepishly. “Sorry. I… seeing him collapse like that has me all churned up.”

“Don’t apologise, you big oaf. Just breathe, and know they’re doing everything they can, and give yourself some damn slack while you’re at it.” She sniffed and turned away.

He scooted down in his chair and leaned against her shoulder, glad she didn't shrug him off, and relieved not to be alone.

They were finally allowed in the room once Zach was stabilised. Allowed in because, in the doctor’s words… Zach was resistant. Archer hadn’t really understood the implications of that, his mind taken up with thoughts of he’s fine, he’s alive, they’ve got it under control.

But now… he could see what they meant. Zach was fighting the sedative, semi-conscious and struggling, suffering. He couldn’t really move, but his eyes were open and he was frightened, terrified, but so obviously not-really-here, either. Whatever had happened these past two years Zach had built up some tolerance to the drugs they’d given him and it was heart-breaking; seeing him foggy but alert, unsure of where he was and unable—but so desperate—for something he couldn't name or do.

“See if you can get him to remain calm, he needs to rest,” the doctor said, arms crossed in concern as his eyes roved over Zach’s prone form. “We can’t try him on anything else until this one is out of his system but even then… He’s been asking for someone, we assumed, well, it might be you?”

Archer nodded, cleared his throat. ‘Right, yeah. He knows me, I can—I’ll do what I can. Anything I should be careful of?”

“Just mind the IV line, and call us in if he gets more agitated or anything changes.”

“Okay, I’ve got this. Thank you, Doctor.”

He did not have this. Not even a little bit. He felt completely out of his depth. He loved Zach like a brother, had loved him and mourned him, and now… felt like he barely knew him. What qualified him to take care of Zach like this? He wrung his hands and stepped closer as Sasha sidled around to the other side of the bed. Zach’s eyes tried to track her, and lost her somewhere along the way. His breathing sped up again, bloodshot eyes wide and aimlessly roving as his fingers twitched on the bed sheets.

“Please, please,” Zach murmured. Whispered, almost. It was slurred but unmistakable.

Sasha gave Archer a look, and nodded to the bed. He shook his head. She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms and they stared each other down.

I can’t do this. He hoped she understood what his look implied.

Her answering look seemed to say you’re not even trying.

He threw his hands up in defeat and stepped closer. Zach’s eyes landed on Archer’s face and he twitched feebly, shivering in his sparse hospital bed.

“‘M good, I’ll be good, please.”

Archer leaned against the bed, trying to look reassuring, confident. “Yeah, you’re doing really well, okay? We’ve got you, nothing to worry about.”

Zach’s hand jerked and his mouth opened and closed before he whined. “Hurts.”

“I know, buddy, I know.” He looked at Sasha who nodded, so he took Zach’s hand and lightly squeezed. “It’s alright.”

“Please, you promised. Promised.”

That took Archer by surprise and he sucked in a breath, biting his tongue.” I know, I-I said nothing else bad would happen to you, I didn’t know this would happen…”

There was a frustrated look on Zach’s face and his eyes filled with tears, his head flopped a little, side to side. “You promised.”

Archer did the only thing he could think of, he squeezed Zach’s hand tighter and dragged the chair by the bed closer so he could sit and be a calming presence. He wouldn’t abandon Zach, not again, no matter how much Zach yelled and cried at him, broken-hearted though it made him to know he’d let Zach down another time.

“I’ll do whatever--ever you want. Sir, please,” Zach’s voice cracked and he mumbled into incoherence, all in a pleading, painfully placating tone.

Archer’s eyes shot up and he met Sasha’s across the bed, looking as concerned as he did as realisation dawned on them both. Zach wasn’t here.

“Where do you think you are, Zach?” she asked quietly.

Zach--who had flinched at sound of his own name--whimpered. “Can’t--don’t know.”

“You’re safe, we’re here, me and Sasha, and the team has our back. You’re in hospital,” Archer said.

Zach looked at him, clearly, finally. “Promise? Keep your word, like you promised?”

“What did I promise you?” It was a calculated risk to play into whatever Zach thought he was seeing, but he needed to know, didn’t he?

“You said… said you wouldn’t lemme die like this. Not like this. A bullet, you promised, not--not sick, not slowly.”

Archer couldn’t breathe, he blinked furiously to try to keep the tears at bay. “I promise, no-one is dying, not here. Not like this.”

Zach breathed out and tears ran down his cheeks as he closed his eyes and rested his head heavily on the pillows. “Promise. And I’ll be good.”

It seemed to be enough to make Zach settle, and he fell into a fitful doze. Sasha brushed hair back from his forehead and checked the lines in the IV on his right hand. Archer brought Zach’s left hand to his face and kissed the back of his wrist, rubbed his thumb in a circle and then laid it down on the sheets and sat back to bury his face in his own hands.

He jumped when Sasha touched his shoulder and scrubbed hastily at his eyes. “We don’t leave him, one of us stays with him until he’s himself again,” he said, voice thick. “We can’t let him get lost in his own head.”

“I’ll get us something to eat,” she said. “We’ll see him through this.” She left quietly, slipping out the door with graceful ease so they kept their privacy.

He nodded. They would. But really… what could they do in the face of all this?

“What the hell did they do to you?” he whispered to the quiet room.

Zach was too far gone to answer.

@haro-whumps @whumpthisway @hurting-fictional-people @lonesome--hunter @crowned-avery @extrabitterbrain @firewheeesky @outofangband

#sick fic #fever #delirious whumpee #hospital #drug use #referenced noncon drugging #death mention #death threat #whumpee and caretaker #fainting #sedated whumpee #sick whumpee #fevered whumpee #team whump #Zach and Archer #spy whump #referenced death threat

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 3 years

Text

Book Two: Sapphire (Ignis x Reader) Chapter IV

The next morning, (Y/n) found herself to be the first one up. Carefully and quietly, she flew over to the door and used her small body to open it. Exiting the hotel room, she flew out of the Mother of Pearl and headed to the beach. In her small form, she sat on the white sands and admired the view just like she did the day before.

As the sun slowly rose above the horizon, her attention was drawn to a man who was also enjoying the beach at such an early hour in the morning. Taking a closer look, she realized it was the spiky-haired man who was accompanying the other oddly-dressed stranger yesterday. He was laying on his back, arms folded behind his head with his eyes shut.

Without thinking, she transformed into her human form. She figured he hadn't seen her, but that thought was quickly dismissed when she heard him chuckle. "So that's what you look like." He opened his eyes and pushed himself off the sand, brushing off whatever he could. "You're that guardian with those guys, right?"

(Y/n) remained silent with a stoic expression. She wasn't fond of strangers, especially the ones who kept odd company and were difficult to read. The man noticed her sealed lips and sighed. "Not much of a talker, huh? That'll make this easier then." Her eyes narrowed as he took a few steps towards her. He held up his hands to show he wouldn't hurt her. One of his hands gravitate towards the hem of his shirt, where he lifted it up and revealed the emerald gemstone embedded in the flesh of his abdomen. "I'm a guardian just like yourself."

Now she could no longer remain silent. "Then what's with your eyes?"

"Contacts. My...master insists I wear them due to how dangerous it is to be a guardian."

She crossed her arms, popping a hip out. "What do you mean "dangerous"?"

"Guess you haven't heard," he said. "The empire's been on a massive hunt to kill spirits. Now that Insomnia is destroyed, it'll make their hunt much more easy."

Her eyes widened in horror. "What?"

"Oh, damn. You didn't hear about that either?" The man handed her a newspaper. "This'll be able to tell you more than I could."

She took the newspaper and read the headline.

Insomnia Falls

Her eyes darted back and forth as she skimmed over the details. She couldn't believe what she was reading, especially when it came from a complete stranger. Tossing the newspaper, she transformed and took to the sky.

Flying as fast as she could, she left Galdin Quay and landed in the Longwythe Rest Area. She transformed and searched for the local newspaper. It had the same headline as the paper the man showed her. Still in disbelief, she transformed once again and few in the direction of Insomnia. She tried to convince herself the papers were lying and it was only propaganda, but she couldn't. Flying as high as she could, she hovered in the air.

When coming as close to the city as she possibly could, her sapphire eyes soaked in the image of the burning, smoking remains of Insomnia. Plumes of smoke rose into the air, fogging the sky above. Imperial dreadnoughts flew to and from the city.

Eventually, the sky was overcome with dark clouds. (Y/n) flew down to safety near the city checkpoint, which was occupied by imperial forces. She hid behind a concrete barricade as it began pouring down rain. Looking past the imperial forces, she saw the Regalia turn down a side road. Sneaking past the imperial forces, she followed the car. From a distance, she watched as they made their way up the hill that provided a perfect view of Insomnia. They fought through imperial troopers and magiteks, clearly angered by what the empire had done to their home.

The guardian knew the boys could handle the enemies without her and remained on the sidelines. She stopped briefly when the voice she heard from her dreams echoed around her.

Chosen...vessel...

She transformed in the spot she had been hiding and looked around. "Who are you?"

Creator...

Her brows furrowed together in confusion. The voice was almost like an echo in the distance. It was unclear and she couldn't understand its broken speech pattern. She shook her head, casting the voice aside. "Maybe I really am going crazy." Looking up, she squinted her eyes to prevent the rain from falling into them. Through the storm clouds, she could see the familiar cluster of stars that radiated brilliantly-the Celestial Crescent. It was a grouping of stars only spirits could see. The darkest clouds couldn't obscure its bright brilliance of various hues of colors, not even the sun could wash it away with its warm, bright rays of light.

(Y/n) tore her gaze away from the Celestial Crescent at the sound of the boys walking past her hiding spot. She overheard them talking about her. They were all worried about her, even Gladio. She had taken off without telling them and they feared the worst had happened. Inhaling deeply, she followed after them back to the car. She no longer wished to hide her human form from Prompto, Noctis, and Gladio. The charade ended today.

Just as (Y/n) caught up with the boys, an imperial drop ship found their location. Magiteks poured from the hatch and surrounded the boys. It wasn't something they couldn't handle, but Noctis was being more careless than usual. He was fueled by his anger and wasn't thinking straight, failing to deliver the finishing blow to one of the MTs. It dragged its body off the ground behind the prince and raised its axe to finish him off. Ignis, Prompto, and Gladio were too occupied with being swarmed by other magiteks that they didn't see the single one that resurrected.

The guardian morphed a blade from pure ice and joined the fray. She charged towards the MT and pierced its body from behind before it could hurt Noctis. Sparks emitted from the hole in its back and abdomen as the sword shattered.

Noctis heard the dying shrieks of the MT and turned around. He watched it collapse, eyes widening when he spotted the girl behind it. He recognized her from Galdin Quay and was able to easily piece together the puzzle. "(Y/n)."

She smiled at him, her heart racing as she tried her best to keep her shy nature in check. "Sorry for keeping it a secret for so long." She took a few steps back before looking towards Ignis. "I also want to apologize for running off like I did. The news was overbearing and I wanted to see it for myself."

"I am simply relieved you are safe," the advisor replied, smiling faintly.

Noctis nodded in agreement. "Yeah, especially after what that weirdo told us."

"Weirdo?" (Y/n) mumbled.

"That spiky-haired guy we met yesterday."

She knew exactly who he was talking about. "He's the one who told me about Insomnia, and how the empire's hunting down spirits for some reason."

"We feared the empire had apprehended you," Ignis said.

The guardian's cerulean eyes drifted over to Gladio and Prompto, who had yet to say anything. She saw they were shocked at her appearance and couldn't say anything. She immediately looked away, feeling her shyness break through. "W-Where to now?"

"Hammerhead," the strategist said. "The marshal will be waiting for us. We best make haste."

Back at the Regalia, Ignis was about to hop into the driver's seat when he noticed (Y/n)'s discomfort. He spoke up on her behalf and addressed the photographer in their group. "Prompto, do be a gentleman and relinquish the front seat to (Y/n)."

The marksman nodded with flushed cheeks. "Y-Yeah, sure thing." He quickly climbed into the backseat with Gladio and Noctis. It was a tight squeeze, but the boys were more than happy to give the girl some space.

Their ride to Hammerhead was silent. Not even Ignis or (Y/n) spoke to each other. What happened to their home lingered in their minds and they couldn't think about anything else or what to say to each other.

It wasn't long before they arrived at the outpost and quickly departed again after learning from Cid that Cor was waiting for them at Prairie Outpost. As they drove to their next destination, (Y/n) kept her gaze on the passing scenery. She still hadn't built up the courage to speak to Prompto or Gladio just yet. She folded her arms atop the window sill and rested her chin on her forearms. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the feeling of the breeze tousling her (h/c) locks. She didn't open her eyes until they arrived at Prairie Outpost.

Exiting the vehicle, the group walked up to a woman. She greeted Noctis, clearly relieved as she spoke. "Your Highness. I'm glad you're safe."

Gladio recognizes the woman before them. "Monica! Where're all the others?"

"Most of the Crownsguard didn't make it. It was all we could do to escort Lady Iris out of the city. Dustin is with her as we speak, seeing her the rest of the way to Lestallum."

"I owe you guys big time."

"Head for the royal tomb. The marshal awaits."

As they headed to the tomb and walked by many hunters, (Y/n) tensed up slightly. She could feel the eyes of many on her as she followed behind Noctis. She had fallen behind without realizing and grabbed the attention of the prince. "You, uh...okay there, (Y/n)?" He also wasn't used to seeing her human form, but at least he was talking to her unlike Prompto and Gladio.

She nodded. "I-I'm fine."

The raven-haired boy tugged at his messy fringe. "Specs did say you were shy."

"I-It's not just that," she said, looking around at the hunters. She caught a few blatantly staring at her while others immediately looked away when she caught their eyes on her. "People are staring. Maybe because my kind are rare to find."

Noctis' eyes raked over the girl's form. Her beauty rivaled that of Lunafreya's and Cindy's. He cleared his throat and immediately looked away. "Yeah, we'll go with that..."

Continuing down the dirt trail, Prompto eventually asked about the woman they recently spoke to. "So who is this Monica person?"

"A servant of the Crownsguard, like Gladio and myself," Ignis replied.

"She's one of my father's best," Gladio added. "Along with Dustin-who's guarding my sister."

"Good to know we still have people we can count on outside the city," Noctis commented.

As the royal retinue continues making their way for the Tomb of the Wise, the boys began talking about Cor. (Y/n) listened to their conversation, remaining silent. She had met the Marshal the day they left Insomnia, but she hasn't properly been introduced to him. She remembered Ignis talking about him from time to time, which made her understand he was a man held in high regards by many.

Once their trek ended, they arrived at the Tomb of the Wise. The entrance was wide open and there was no sign of Cor. Walking into the tomb, they found the marshal waiting for them, standing beside a sarcophagus that bears a sword in its hands.

"Marshal," Ignis addressed the man.

Cor's gaze focused on the prince. "At last, Your Highness."

Noctis was clearly irritated as he spoke. "Yeah, wanna tell me what I'm here for?"

"The power of kings, passed from the old to the new through the bonding of souls. One such soul lies before you. To claim your forebears' power is your birthright and duty as king," the marshal explained.

"My duty as king of what?" Noctis hissed through gritted teeth.

"Now is not the time to question your calling," Cor remarked with a hint of anger. "A king is sworn to protect his people."

"And yet he chose to protect only one prince. Was that his calling? Forsake the masses to spare his own son?"

Cor's eyes narrowed. "How long will you remain the protected? The king entrusted the role of protector to you."

""Entrusted" it to me? Then why didn't he tell me that? Why did he stand there smiling as I left? Why-Why did he lie to me?"

"That day, he didn't want you to remember him as the king. In what time you had left, he wanted to be your father. He always had faith in you, that when the time came, you would ascend for the sake of your people."

"Guess he left me no choice." Noctis holds out his hand over the sarcophagus. The sword embedded in the stone phases through the casket's hands and floats into the air. It then flies into Noctis' body, being absorbed into him and added to his arsenal. He now had the power of his ancestor.

Cor spoke again after witnessing Noctis successfully absorb his ancestor's power. "That's not the only power your forebears left you. Your journey's just begun. Another tomb lies close by. I suggest you head there next. There are tombs scattered across the land. All are on dangerous ground. I'll go with you, for the time being. Not only to help, but to get a measure of your strength."

"So just how many of these "powers" are out there?" Noctis asked.

"There are thirteen known royal arms, each enshrined at a royal tomb, though we know the location of only a few. I've enlisted the Hunters. They comb the land in search of the lost tombs."

"Where's the one nearby you mentioned?"

"Keycatrich Trench. We know there to be a crypt deep inside the tunnels. Before we set out, there's another thing I must tell you."

The prince crossed his arms. "And what's that?"

"The empire's hunting down guardians and killing them to prevent you from obtaining the conduit. Find this spirit and obtain their blessing."

Noctis glanced over at (Y/n) for a split second before looking back at the marshal. "Why do I need this blessing?"

Cor sighed. "That, I'm afraid I don't understand." He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. The jewel adorning it was black, cracked, and had a silver phoenix wrapped around it. (Y/n)'s eyes widen in shock, which didn't go unnoticed by the marshal.

"What're we looking at, Marshal?" Gladio questioned.

"Seems the guardian amongst you is already aware."

All eyes fell on (Y/n). She couldn't tear her own gaze away from the necklace. "A guardian gemstone. When we pass, the gemstone cracks and turns black." She took a step forward. "Marshal, who does this necklace belong to?"

"Me," Cor replied. "I lost her years ago. She's the one who told me about the conduit, but she never mentioned why the prophesized King would need them. Only that he would require their blessing. You wouldn't happen to know, would you?"

She hung her head. "I'm afraid not. Forgive me, Marshal."

The man put the necklace back into his pocket. "Minor change of plans."

"Yeah? And what's that?" Noctis asked.

"I want to see (Y/n) in action. The rest of you will stand on the sidelines."

"Marshal, I can assure you," Ignis started but was promptly interrupted by Cor.

"It's more to satisfy my curiosity than an evaluation. I'm well aware of the power possessed by guardians. I'm more interested in her unique abilities." The marshal looked over at the (h/c)-haired girl. "Let's depart."

The group left the royal tomb and headed to the next one in Keycatrich Trench. They were all silent until they spotted imperial forces in the distance. Among the soldiers were two mechs, which is what (Y/n) had her sights set on. She snuck off without telling the others and infiltrated enemy ranks.

Prompto was the first to notice her absence when they came to a stop. "Uh, guys? Where did (Y/n) go?"

Noctis, Gladio, and Ignis looked around for her, but couldn't find her. Cor went to make a remark, but he held his tongue when they heard the imperial soldiers screaming and shooting. Looking towards the troopers, they saw the two magitek armors were targeting their fellow imperial soldiers.

When all the soldiers were annihilated, one of magitek armors turned to face the other and fired a single rocket. The second mech exploded into pieces while the first one was suddenly speared with large shards of ice.

The men were in awe and shock at what they had witnessed. Carefully, they approached the remains of the carnage and found an innocent-looking (Y/n) standing among the remains of the exploded magitek armors. She combed her (h/c) locks over her shoulders as the others approached her.

"I don't know what you did, but well done," Cor complimented.

"I only performed a minor lightning incantation on the mechs to manipulate the coding and turn them against their own allies," she explained.

"You made it look like a walk in the park," Noctis commented.

"The way to Keycatrich Trench is clear. We shouldn't linger too long or more imperial forces will show up."

They arrived at the entrance of Keycatrich Trench and Cor took a key out of his pocket and tossed it towards Noctis. "Here's where we go our separate ways. Take this key. It unlocks the doors to the other tombs. Seek them out and lay claim to the power they hold. You'll need it."

Noctis examines the key before meeting the marshal's gaze. "And what will you do?"

"Keep an eye on the Niffs and see if I can dig up more information on this conduit. But you should focus on your own task."

"I will."

Cor turned and left. With the marshal gone, the group proceeded into Keycatrich Trench.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

#ffxv #ffxv x reader #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv x reader #ignis scientia #ignis x reader #ignis scientia x reader

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danny-chase · 3 years

Note

Big Brother instinct, Dick and either Cass, Gar, Danny Chase, Steph, Kara, Rose, or anyone else u want

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Batgirl (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne Characters: Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain, Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Dick grayson centric, Fire, Burns, hair styling, Ice Cream, Hurt/Comfort, Late Nights, Fluff and Angst, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Batfamily Dynamics (DCU), Missions Gone Wrong, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Cassandra Cain is bad at feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings Series: Part 11 of Bad Things Happen Bingo Summary:

Dick talks with Cass after a mission doesn't go as planned.

Fic under cut

“Argh!” Dick snaps back to attention as Bruce’s angry grunt rattles through the cave. The few bats still in for the night stir, their wings rustling in the distance. An avalanche of papers fly off of Bruce’s desk, and his grizzled form slumps forward, hands firmly planted on the table. His shoulders sag under some unknown strain; as if he’s carrying the weight of the sky.

“Hmm.” Dick blinks back another wave of exhaustion, he’s not working on a case – but Bruce is – and company always makes working more fun. Besides, Bruce is on a time limit and Alfred can’t stop him from escaping his room. So. Here he is. He took an oath - it’s his job to help.

Dick’s eleven and Bruce’s a pillar of reassurance – a precariously stacked pile of rocks constantly on the verge of crumbling. He has no idea how to pick up the pieces. No idea how to seal the cracks. “Bruce?” He mumbles, swinging his legs off his spinny chair. Bruce doesn’t look up, his mouth drawn in a tight line. The ghost of tears well in his eyes. Not good.

Dick scoots off the chair, lightheaded for a moment. He shakes the stars out of his eyes, nodding back and forth, up and down, like Bruce does when he’s sleepy. It’s late. He has school tomorrow. Not that it matters. Bruce will let him skip if he asks the right way. He jogs in place for a few seconds, readying himself, warming up his muscles.

There’s not much he can do to help, but he can at least put on a little show. He runs forward launching into a cartwheel, picking up the papers as he goes – Bruce likes his tricks, sometimes they even make him laugh, sometimes –

Bruce snags his ankle out of the air, his quick reflexes saving Dick from crashing into the edge of a counter. He finds himself hanging, the world stuck upside down as his hands dangle inches from the floor. “Thanks.” He looks up at Bruce’s weary face.

A yawn escapes his lips, and the corners of Bruce’s mouth twitch. “I’m going to have to child-proof the cave at this rate.” He tries for humor but it falls flat, his hearts not in it all.

He stares up, sticking his tongue out. Bruce’s frown doesn’t fade. “Are you okay?” He asks. Bruce’s hands fumble, and Dick swings dangerously low to the floor before he’s recovered. Not willing to take the chance again, he curls up, grabbing Bruce’s forearms and pulls himself up through his arms, settling himself on sturdy shoulders.

Bruce drops his feet. “I’m fine. Why would ask that?” He sounds almost hurt and Dick’s too tired to figure out why.

He slides down easily, Bruce gently deposits him on the floor. “You looked sad.” A yawn leaves his mouth without permission, he stumbles slightly, and a hand clamps down on his shoulder. He reaches back up, and Bruce throws him up against his shoulder, wrapping him in a hug.

Dick yawns contently, his eyelids fluttering without his permission, as Bruce starts walking towards the stairs. “I’m sorry…” The arm around his back pulls him a bit tighter. “I’m just not enough.” A shaking hand combs through his hair and Dick squeezes back because he doesn’t know what to say.

Bruce grunts as he takes a step up the stairs. “Sleep on it?” Dick suggests, resting his eyes for just a moment.

“Mmhmm. It’s bedtime.” Dick’s half asleep by the time they reach the top. He’s not sure he hears Bruce whisper, “You’re a great kid, chum.”

It took Dick years before he really understood the feeling. And even more years before he made the connection that that was how Bruce had felt on late nights spent scouring for clues that just didn’t seem to exist, having worked for days straight on three hours of sleep, and watching Gotham send all of it up in flames setting you back months on an investigation.

He’s learned there’s nights it’s impossible to save everyone – hell, he’s seen Clark get his ass kicked, and Clark’s damn near close to god. Dick would know – the Titans have fought their namesake. But the Titans have fought humans and lost despite half their members being godlike, and besides that most days now he’s alone. It doesn’t matter how hard he tries, how much he plans, how prepared he is; sometimes things just go to hell and a handbasket and there’s nothing he can physically do to prevent it.

Most of the time, he’s fine with that. It’s fine he has limits. Logically, he knows he can’t be expected to everything. Logically, he knows it’s a waste of time to worry about it. Logically, he knows it’s okay to take a night off, watch a nature documentary, invite a friend over, stay in and spend the night simply existing.

But it feels like he could be doing more – should be doing more. He feels that restlessness overtake him, and springs to his feet “Bruce I-”

Bruce gives him his patented bat-glare from where he’s sitting, looking up from a familiar pile of papers. Once it would have intimidated him into sitting back down. Now he just returns it with a patented one of his own. “-I think I’ll suit up and head out for the night, Tim could probably use some back up with-”

“Dick.” There’s this exasperated tone that Bruce can only ever seem to muster when saying his name. He pauses for a just a second, his eyes flickering down to Bruce’s clenched fists and tight shoulders. “Let me handle it.” It comes out as an order, but reading between the lines, it’s a plea.

Bruce would never admit it out loud, worry practically bleeds out of the man. Guilt gnaws on the inside of his chest, though, he’s not sure what it’s even from; the guilt of making Bruce worry or the guilt of being a useless sack of broken and bruised ribs while people need Nightwing’s help. Being benched sucks, but he knows enough to compromise. “Let me run the comms? Babs could use a night off.” She sleeps less than him and Bruce knows it.

The gray streaks in Bruce’s hair stand out all the more as he lets out a bone deep sigh. Dick rolls his eyes – he doesn’t get to do this right now. “You literally let me go out last night I don’t understand why-”

“Last night was an emergency. I didn’t have a choice.” His frown widens, his face etched in an eternal look of pain, mixed with disproval. “Two nights ago… you almost…” His mouth seals itself shut, unspoken words hanging in the air between them. It’s Bruce that breaks the gaze first. “Run the comms, don’t overexert yourself. It should be a quiet night…” He stands, hesitates before walking off “And get to bed early.”

Dick bites back a laugh, Bruce hasn’t talked to him like that since he was thirteen. “Alright.” He resists the urge to poke fun, and follows Bruce through the passage behind the grandfather clock.

“So Ives was talking about the Pirates of the Caribbean movie with me the other day, and we might go see it this weekend if I have the time. Gee- I can’t remember the last time I saw movie in theaters or even really hung out with him.” Tim’s endless chatter helps him stay awake in the dimly lit cave. His throbbing ribs help too, maybe he shouldn’t have tried doing push-ups. “Dad and Dana want to drop me off, but Ives has a car now, though dad’s still worried cuz of the time some wacko tried to stop us at a traffic light.”

Dick hums, a smile creeping its way up his face. “I can drop you off if it’s an issue.”

“Really?! That’d be awesome, you could stay for the movie if you wanted to, but I don’t know if you’d like it, I mean are pirates really your thing? I always figured you’d be more into Vikings or probably aliens actually, or something like-” A red light flashes on the screen, and Dick snaps to attention.

“Hold that thought.” Tim’s chatter ceases immediately as Dick furiously types on the terminal. He punches into the main line. “Batgirl how fast can you get to the corner of 16th and Murphy’s Ave, there’s a building on fire and you’re the only one anywhere near the Upper East Side.” A 911 operator calms down a hysterical woman in his left ear, Cass asking direction in the right.

He pulls up a map. “I-I can’t find a way out!” The woman shrieks. “I don’t know what happened, I was sleeping and-” she breaks off into raspy hacks.

“Go straight, turn right after three blocks down.” Dick winces, as the lady continues chocking on smoke. “C’mon Cass. Get there.” He mutters off the line. He eyes his cycle sitting idly in the bay – he’s twenty minutes out; Cass needs backup. He opens up another line. “Batman I need you to follow Batgirl, what’s your eta?”

Bruce grunts back, he hears thudding over the line. “Fifteen minutes.” The woman screams in his other ear, he yanks the earbud out as a massive bang nearly blows out his eardrum. Picking it back up, he can’t hear the woman anymore, only the roar of flames and falling debris.

“Shit.” He pulls up video from a street camera. “Shit.” The building’s collapsing in on itself. “Permission to call the league?” He clicks through to their line of communications, his finger hovering over the button.

“Here.” Cass scrambles into view, bursting through a window. Shit.

Bruce learned his limits long ago. Dick’s finally settling into his. Cass? They simply don’t register on her radar. The buildings coming down in mere minutes; she’s going to get killed.

“What’s the situation?” Bruce yells in his ear.

“Batgirl get out of there!” He screams at Cass. She’s going to die – the building’s not stable, and he’s the one that sent her there. “Make it five minutes – the building’s coming down.” He yells to Bruce. “Batgirl!” He watches a few windows blow out. A firetruck careens down the street.

“Permission granted.” Bruce huffs and Dick can’t click the button fast enough.

A couple more windows blow out, and the building seems to lean to the side. Finally he sees Cass climb back out a window, holding a couple kids in her arms as she leaps to the ground. “BATGIRL GET THEM CLEAR!” His heart pounds in his throat as she runs forwards, the building groaning behind her, crumbling to the side. Chaos erupts, chunks of flaming debris cascading from the top of the building, as the second floor merges with the first.

Dick blinks, his mouth dry. “There’s more people-” he can’t hear Cass over the ensuing cacophony as he watches the building topple to the ground. “NO!” He faintly hears her scream as the screen erupts in static.

Dick slams his fists on the desk. His chest constricts painfully. “Nightwing. Report.” Bruce’s steady voice reminds him to breathe. His chest spasms. Shit. “Nightwing!” Bruce demands as he tries to catch his breath.

“Building collapsed.” He manages to get out. “One sec.” He takes a few deep breaths, leaning back in the chair for support. “Batgirl report.” He’s greeted with silence. “Batgirl, please, if you’re there I need you to respond.”

“I…” Cass trials off. Dick sighs in relief. “I’m sorry.” The line cuts off. Well. Shit.

“Nightwing! I’m headed to the location.” Bruce squawks. Dick sighs.

“It’s going to be a long night. Search and rescue, I’ll call in backup.” Shit. So much for an early bedtime.

“Hey.” Someone shakes his shoulder. He makes a grab for their wrist and misses, his mind processing where the hell he is. He blinks a few times.

“Cass?” Her hair’s plastered to the side of her head and she’s covered in soot. Nicks, rips, and tears decorate her costume. Dick wipes his eyes as the ashy smell of smoke overwhelms his senses. Cass takes a few steps back, heading towards the locker room. “Wait.” He had something to say to her, his mind racing to catch up.

She hops up onto a counter. His mind shuffles through the events earlier in the night. “Bruce sent you back?” Cass nods glumly. The rescue efforts weren’t going well when he dozed off. The JLA sent in everyone they could spare; there’s nothing they can do anymore. Not that Bruce won’t try.

Cass’s lips are sealed. There’s a haunting expression in her eyes, her shoulders slump forward, her hands firmly plant themselves on the counter for support.

And his friends think he’s too much like Bruce.

“Hey.” He starts. She gives him a weary look, tears welling in her eyes. Well, maybe not exactly like Bruce. “Look, I’m sorry I put you in that position.” Cass shakes her head. “Sometimes things like this happen. I should have-”

“Stop.” Cass pulls her feet up on the counter, getting dust everywhere. “I should have been faster.” She swallows, refusing to let the tears spill over. “My fault.”

Dick watches as she glides off the counter, yanking off her gloves and dropping them on the floor. Burn marks dot her hands and the edges of her hair are singed. “You did everything you could.” She hesitates, before taking a step towards the showers.

“Not enough.” She mutters before storming off, leaving a trail of soot in her wake.

He stands up. “Cass.” The lock snaps shut with a click as she slips into the bathroom. Leaving Dick in an empty cave once more.

By the time he returns downstairs, Cass is already out of the shower, looking displeased. “You took my clothes.” She notes unhappily, a pale pink towel tucked tightly around her shoulders.

Dick watches water drip down from her hair, pattering on the floor. The trail leading back to the bathroom is now mixed with water and soot. Alfred’s going to be pissed. “I took your costume.” He clarifies. “And I brought you clothes.” He gestures towards the open door.

Cass scowls, planting her feet defiantly. “I’m going out.” She reaches out a hand. Dick shrugs – there’s no way she can find where he hid her filthy suit before they get a chance to wash it.

It’s all too familiar, reading the lines across her brow, watching her shoulders slump when she stills, and scanning red rimmed eyes. “What are you going to do like that?” He points out, Cass angrily storming towards him. “You’re tired, you’ll just end up being in the way.” He dodges left as a fist flies past his face. “You would have hit if I wasn’t right.” She’s faster than him on his best days.

She glares at him with pursed lips, staring before turning on her heel and storming off towards the bathroom. The door slams behind her, triggering the rustling of far away wings.

Dick sighs – he hopes he wasn’t this temperamental when he lived with Bruce. “Come up to the kitchen when you’re done, I need your help with something.” The lie rolls easily off his tongue, though he feels a twinge of guilt as Cass groans behind closed doors.

Cass’s eyes widen as she enters the room. Dick offers a smile as she edges closer to the table. He tosses a spoon, she snags it out of the air. “Dig in.” There’s a carton of chocolate ice cream – double chocolate chunk brownie sundae with hot fudge and chocolate sprinkles to be precise – and tons of candy. It’s not stuff Bruce keeps around, but Dick’s has a stash at Tim’s house reserved for movie nights. He’ll restock later.

Cass vigorously stabs the ice cream with her spoon, a smile dancing across her face as she takes a few bites. She pauses, sticking the spoon back in the cartoon, looking up with a confused expression. “Why?” She’s wearing fluffy pajama bottoms, fuzzy socks, and an old worn college sweatshirt that’s frayed at the hems. Dick can almost pretend he’s back, talking to Donna after she broke up with Roy their sophomore year of high school.

She’s watching Dick carefully. He hums casually. “You had a rough night.” This is what the Titans always did. She shrugs.

“Things happen.” She shovels a few more bites into her mouth. “I want to go out.” It’s hard for Dick to find her tough and grizzled when she’s guzzling gummi worms, kicking her feet back and forth on the stool.

“Consider this a reason to stay in.” She gives him a sideways glance. “You did as much as you can, that’s enough.” Cass looks pointedly at her ice cream, not hesitating before diving back into it.

“Spar with me?” She licks a skittle before sticking it in her mouth.

Dick snorts. “If I don’t have a heart attack, I think Bruce would.” She snaps up to attention, grabbing his wrist and quickly finding his pulse point. “I’m fine, Cass.” Her hands are freezing. He places one of his on top of hers. “If you weren’t there I wouldn’t have been.” He says quietly, catching her eye. “Thank you.” She pulls back as if burned, quickly busying herself with the candy. He waits a moment before adding, “I think those kids you saved are grateful too.”

Cass throws a bag of M&M’s at him, he’s a second too slow and it pelts him in the face. “Noted.” He grins. “Uh, also, I’m going to have to do something with your hair.”

“What.”

“Cass, hold still.” She immediately stops squirming under his hands. “Thanks.” She hums back, tucked under an old blanket that never seems to leave the back of the couch. Bruce still isn’t here, but Tim checked in after his stakeout, and headed home a half an hour ago. He snips away another lock of burnt hair, tossing it into a trash can next to him.

He rests his forearms on the back of the sofa, contemplating which section of her hair to start with next. “You find one you like yet?” He asks, peeking over her shoulder at the images of hairstyles.

“Uhh.” She scrolls a bit more. “I don’t care.” She tosses the phone up to the top of the couch.

“Mmm.” He didn’t expect much else. Donna texted him a picture earlier to copy – something easy to pull back but still stylish. He attacks the next section, carefully brushing out the tangles, starting bottom to the top. He’s oddly grateful for all those times he did Donna and Kory’s hair.

‘Practice for when Bruce finally adopts a girl.’ They used to tease. ‘You’ll have a real sister, and if his track record holds she’ll have black hair and blue eyes.’ He’s never lived the irony down. Though, Cass’s eyes are a beautiful warm brown, so Donna and Kory can take that.

“You know.” He keeps his tone light. “Most hairdressers and their clients talk.” Cass remains set in stony silence. “Though I guess most people go to a salon to get their hair cut.” He just visits Joey. “Some people say it’s like free therapy.”

“You talk a lot.” Cass notes. He pulls up doodle jump on his phone and passes it back to her. She plays a couple rounds before the phone’s placed back beside him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He already knows the answer, but still asks all the same.

“No.” Bruce never wanted to either. Barbara used to talk to him… before he left for the Titans and took years to look back. Though he likes to dream otherwise, he knows there’ll come a day when Tim won’t want to talk to him anymore either.

It doesn’t get any easier being shut out. “That’s alright. If you change your mind I’m here.” He grabs the shears, snipping away another dead end.

“Thanks.”

“Dick.” A hiss awakes him, light following soon after. He squints, turning away to bury his face in a cushion. “Where’s Cassandra?”

He turns, eyes snapping open as he quickly scans the sofa. The blanket hangs off the edge, Cass nowhere to be seen. One of her custom batarangs sticks out of his armchair’s armrest, a few inches from his hand. “She must have found her costume.” He notes, glancing towards the pajamas crumpled in the doorway. His eyes meet Bruce’s as he lets out a tired sigh.

His hair’s dripping, fresh from a shower, and it’s singed at the edges. Dick nods towards the sheers on the coffee table. “Tomorrow.” Bruce decides, crossing the room, picking up the blanket as he goes. Dick pushes down the footrest, slowly rising to his feet. His ribs twinge at every move, in hindsight, falling asleep hanging off the side of an armchair wasn’t his best idea. Bruce hovers closer than normal, watching carefully, worry lines set in concern. “Bed.”

Dick’s too tired to argue. “Bed.” He agrees. And though Bruce doesn’t carry him, he accompanies him up the stairs.

#bad things happen bingo #dick grayson #cassandra cain #batfam #batfamily #nightwing #batgirl #my writing #sorry i've had this request for like 2 months but you know what we made it eventually 💀😅#thanks for the request anon!#i couldn't resist doing Cass but shout out to you remembering Danny Chase exists like dang iconic

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florvinhara · 4 years

Text

felt it ripping me apart (part 1)

summary: kira deals with the aftermath of turning

warnings for heavy angst !!!

word count: 2.2k

read on ao3 or below the cut:

Kira wakes from a nebulous, pained darkness to the memory of a familiar voice- beloved, broken- calling her name.

At first, she wonders if she’s hungover; the lights are dimmed but too bright, and she feels sick with a hollow emptiness that tangles her stomach into knots. She sits up with a groan, and scrubs at her face with her hands until flashes of recollection start to surface from the depths of her foggy mind. They are more sensation than anything else, brief impressions of moments in time. Blood. Please. Pain. I’m sorry. Cold. Stay with me.

Blood… no, she is decidedly not hungover. She had woken up before, she recalls, feeling stiff and strange all over, and upon trying to stand up had been overcome with a tidal wave of nauseated exhaustion so strong she’d had to sit hunched on the edge of the bed holding her swimming head between her knees until she’d stopped feeling like she might pass out. Her second attempt had not been much more successful, and she had resigned herself to laying back and irritably shoving at the scratchy sheets until someone came to explain why she was once again in the Agency’s medical wing.

She had remained entirely silent while Elidor gently explained what had happened, pushing aside complicated swirls of emotion and focusing only on the concrete facts, of which there were three. In order, she’s been going through them again and again, turning them over in her mind like puzzle pieces which don’t quite fit into the rest of the picture.

One- she had been mortally wounded.

Two- they’d turned her; there had been no other option to save her life. Which means that:

Three: she is not going to die. Not now, perhaps not ever.

It’s a short list, but she repeats it religiously- one, two three, one, two three- because otherwise, her mind will start wandering. The trek from these simple isolated truths to their messier implications is a short one she can’t stand to make. Will she have to leave Wayhaven? It had been in her plans, eventually, but there’s a difference between moving and having to slowly disentangle yourself entirely from human society as an unforgivable amount of time passes you by untouched.

More pressing, how will she leave this hospital room? Because beyond this controlled environment, with its drawn shades and soundproofed walls, is a noisy, chaotic world that had already at times overwhelmed her until she couldn’t breathe.

And there is one more concern; she has pointedly not allowed her train of thought to drift in that particular direction, but the seed of fearful doubt is rapidly taking root in the back of her mind anyway, snarling around her spine and curling purposefully at her throat. After all, it is one terrifying thing to love someone knowing that your lives run on different tracks, that you must fit the vast expanses of your devotion into the span of 60 or so years. To promise your eternity to another person is another animal altogether, and she cannot ask Nate to give her that- it is a gift she doesn’t deserve, and why would he want to offer it anyway? She knows how much he misses humanity, seeks out the echoes of it wherever he can- without hers, will he recognize her, or just see the chasm where that mortal part of her used to be?

It doesn’t bear thinking about for long, the inevitable, and so she pulls her focus back to the safety of the past, the proven. She’s managed to delay whatever is going to come next so far, having asked Elidor for some time alone to rest. It had been a flimsy excuse, but he had kindly pretended to believe it and let her be, staring blankly at the wall and mentally reciting the concise points that comprised her list until sleep had claimed her.

Perhaps it had helped after all; she still feels hollowed out and numb, but the sickly dizziness is gone and the lights above her no longer leave sharp, star-like patterns in the backs of her eyes. The signs are promising enough that she decides to try standing again, shoving the blankets off and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. This time, she does manage it, though she immediately stumbles upon making contact with the ground as a strange, shaky sensation skitters up her calves, pins and needles pressing against the soles of her feet and making her wobble like a newborn foal. She grabs at the pole where an IV bag would usually be hanging for support, wincing at the bright spark of unexpected chill where her hands make contact.

Did this get shorter? she thinks distantly, and then remembers that the pole isn’t shorter, she’s just taller now, and she wonders if that means she’ll have to buy new clothes. Which is just so stupid, so ridiculously not important a detail in the grand scheme of things, the fact that her mind jumped there first makes a laugh just left of hysterical fizzle in her throat, and it is so profoundly unlike her that it makes her feel sick. She stumbles to the adjoined washroom as she feels her chest constrict painfully in feverish panic, dragging the IV pole behind her half for balance and half for comfort, and leans over the sink, gasping for breath, until her heart stops beating against her ribs like a caged animal and she can inhale without the air stabbing knife-like at her lungs.

Slowly but surely, her breathing evens out, and she glances up at her reflection in the mirror- then freezes.

The differences are slight, so much so that at first she thinks it must be a trick of the light, but the more she casts her gaze over the face reflected back at her, the more she is sure it cannot be hers. Or, more accurately, it is hers in the way that an old picture is one’s self- similar enough to recognize but changed enough to be almost another person entirely.

It looks as though she has never lived in this body, never tested its limits by climbing that one unsteady tree branch and knocking a deep, jagged scar into her forehead for her trouble. Never pierced her own ears with a needle and ice cube in a misguided attempt at rebellion. Never stayed up through the night and marked the sleepless hours by the dark circles under her eyes. She grips the sink as she searches for familiarity in the reflection before her; the porcelain crumbles like sand beneath her shaking fingers, and this too is hideously unrecognizable, the strength and the unintentional destruction it can bring, the need to exist cautiously.

The more she looks, the more untethered from herself she feels, unmade and reformed by an architect with little regard for detail, the outline and not the shape itself. And she supposes she has been, in a way- she remembers, if nothing else, the searing agony as her bones had separated and knit themselves back together. It shouldn’t be real, it shouldn’t be possible for these traces of her life, the storms she has weathered and the consequences of her recklessness, to be wiped from her body as if they had never existed. A map unmade. A history forgotten. Even the scar she’d gotten from Murphy is vanished, a feat not accomplished even by the Agency’s healing magic. And for some reason it is this, the absence of a scar she never wanted, that finally breaks her as she sinks to the floor with a dark dismay rising in her throat like bile.

---

The linoleum floor is cold against her shins, but she welcomes the bracing shock it gives her, focuses intently on the sensation of it pressing on her legs as another swell of dread threatens to drown her. Her hands find each other, twisting anxiously until she realizes she does not recognize them either; the familiar divots of old scars and callouses are gone, as are the crooked slant where she had broken her fingers. Frantically, she wrenches them apart, despising their unfamiliarity.

Enough of this, she reprimands herself sternly, one clear thought in a swirling sea-storm of panic and confusion and what-ifs. She latches onto it desperately, presses her hands, still fluttering nervously as they seek out the comfort of a repetitive motion, flat against the cold floor and thinks it over and over again- enough, enough, enough- until the word has lost its meaning and she feels somewhat calmer again.

Her mind is still spinning in anxious circles, tying itself in knots the more she thinks. There’s only one surefire solution she knows of to ease the worried maelstrom; it’s time to remove herself from the equation, consider this from a more scientific standpoint. This doesn’t have to destroy her. Or maybe it does- after all, creation is a promise of violence, in and of itself born from destruction. Cells beget new cells by ripping themselves in two; the body is constantly sloughing off parts of itself which have outlived their usefulness. And this must still be true, even though so much is different, because stasis is death to the thousands of systems constantly at work to keep someone operating. Maybe there is some comfort there, then, that even though she cannot see it, at the smallest level, the familiar processes are continuing.

She imagines she can hear them now, blood rushing from her heart to deliver oxygen to the rest of her body, cells splitting apart and bursting as they die only to be replaced instantly, even her DNA unwinding and reforming as it encodes new strands of her genetic information. How much of it changed along with her- which genes were snipped out of existence and remade in a different, ‘better’ image?

Damn. Not even two minutes later and she’s already cycled back to her horror at the transformation, visible and invisible- perhaps this won’t destroy her after all, she’ll just do it herself fixating on the sharp, shattered pieces of the dissonance between the self she recognizes and the one she sees reflected in the mirror.

A worried voice cuts through the thick miasma of dismay choking her like poison- Elidor, knocking at the door and asking if she’s alright. Is she? No, she thinks, even as she calls out, “Yeah, just a minute,” and feels so much sudden relief to hear her voice, unchanged, that she nearly blacks out. Slowly, and with much aid from the IV pole, she pulls herself to her feet and chances another glance at the mirror. Immediately, she feels an overwhelming urge to punch it, to shatter the glass until her reflection is torn apart by the spiderwebbing shards, but she shoves it down forcefully, searches for resolve in the eyes looking back at her. She finds nothing there, but knows Elidor is waiting outside and opens the door, resigned.

“I was wondering where that pole had run off to,” he says with a teasing smile that falters the moment they make eye contact. Well, that was a short-lived act. “Kira, what’s wrong?”

Nothing that can be fixed, nothing that she doesn’t just have to get over and deal with. She starts to tell him as much, but her throat is so tight that her voice grates painfully as she speaks and she gives up halfway through the sentence, ending with a dismissive wave that falls too far flat of insouciant to be convincing.

Elidor’s brow furrows in concern. “I’ll get the rest of the team, and-”

“No!” she cuts in, flinging a hand out to stop him. If there’s one thing she’s absolutely sure of, it’s that she cannot be around them right now, can’t let them see that she can’t handle this, can’t deal with their thoughts or feelings or opinions when her own are still such a confused mess. And she especially cannot see Nate, not when she knows what’s going to happen; of course, he is going to be perfectly kind, even as he tells her this can’t work, she’s too different now that she is divorced from her humanity, he had never intended for this relationship to last centuries.

His gentleness will cut deeper than the words themselves, and if she could, she would do it herself, end it for him quickly and impersonally so she can spare them both the pain. But she is too unmoored right now, too frustratingly unsure of herself, to face a reality that has fundamentally shifted. “No, please, just- can you tell them I’m not awake yet? Or- just, anything?” Some small, unchanged part of her mind rebels violently at that, hates her for the cowardice, but it is too easily drowned out by the tumult of dazed doubts and worries shadowing her to be heard.

It takes about ten minutes of pleading for Elidor to uneasily agree to give her more time; eventually, he concedes, and leaves the room with a concerned glance over his shoulder. The door closes behind him, and she lets herself sink to the ground once more, curled over like she could belatedly shield herself from the injury which necessitated all this, until she drags herself back into the bed and seeks relief in unconsciousness.

#well ... Here it is!#lowkey i am Concerned so Please lmk if there is anything else i should tag this with for warnings!!!#anyway magnum opus / mirror fic part 1! part 2 coming... sometime ksjdfk #twc #twc fic #zephwriting

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

4+1 Taylor’s short edition

Daniel x Taylor (The Dark Pictures Anthology: Little Hope)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Humor

Summary: The four times Daniel teased Taylor about being short and the one time she got her revenge.

Requested by my platonic spouse @hopeveon Hope you enjoy it bro! (sorry for the wait) Love, Vy ❤

There are times in Taylor’s life she wishes she was the high-heels-to-the-store type of person. Maybe then her height wouldn’t hinder her from reaching the top shelves where her favorite cereal is kept.

She’s been standing in front of the raft, glaring the orange box of cereal down as if that way she’ll eventually convince it to fall on its own right into her arms.

This is one of those ‘I wish I could wear heels without maneuvering around like a baby giraffe’ moments. Not that the heels would help her much considering how high up the shelf is but it’d still give her some level of advantage: she’d be able to reach the shelf below the top one and that’d still be considered a bonus.

“Need help, T?”

Then again, who needs heels when they have a tall boyfriend to snatch up things they can’t.

Taylor flashes him a smile as he turns into the aisle she’s standing in, the shopping cart he’s pushing already containing the items he was assigned to get. “Could you, for the love of God, grab me one of those?” She asks pointing up at the cereal boxes with clear frustration in her movements.

Daniel shoots her a smirk as he parks the cart, “Why don’t you...” Taylor, sensing the oncoming joke at her shortness, opens her mouth to complain but before she can say a single word, she’s lifted up off the ground, earning a yelp from her. “...get it yourself?” Daniel finishes his previously began sentence, holding his girlfriend up so the boxes are within arm’s reach.

When she takes two, he sets her back down on the floor. Just as she’s about to thank him, however, he ruffles her hair, placing a kiss at the top of her head once he does so. “You’re welcome, shorty.”

And just like that, she swallows her gratitude.

Taylor’s classes finished earlier than Daniel’s today due to some change in the professors’ schedule. That leaves her here, on a bench in the college park, waiting for her boyfriend since she doesn’t want to break their routine and walk to the dorms on her own, leaving him to do the same. They’ve had very little time for one another as of recent because of the upcoming torturous finals that have them worrying and overworking themselves sick. Walking to the dorms is one thing these upcoming exams can’t take away from them, luckily.

As she types another message to Andrew, promising she’d help him with his essay he’s gotta turn in in two days and has no idea how to even start it, she hears the sound of laughter. Laughter which the person is desperately trying to suppress. She looks up from her phone to see Daniel standing on the path a few feet away, one hand clutching the strap of his bag while the other is balled in a fist and pressed against his lips to prevent the aforementioned laughter from escaping him.

When he notices she’s looking, he does his best to keep his composure and still himself but it’s already too late - it’s all been spotted.

Raising an eyebrow at him, Taylor can’t contain the need to ask what has him cracking up so badly, “Take a breath please. What are you even laughing at?“ Finding himself unable to speak without laughing, he just points to her feet which has her even more confused. She raises an eyebrow at him, looking down at her dangling and swinging feet clad in an old pair of Converse. “That explains nothing.” She says, continuing to watch his movements with an unamused look on her face.

Daniel does as she told him - takes a breath - before he opens his mouth to explain, a smile still stretching at the corners of his lips, “You can’t touch the ground, can you?”

It takes a few moments for the words to register and be processed but she’s quick to catch onto yet another one of his increasingly creative jokes. It’s understood without saying that she’s less than impressed by this joke of his when she gets up and proceeds to speed-walk down the path towards the dorms, leaving Daniel rushing to catch up to her, calling her name while laughing his ass off.

III

This carnival date was entirely her idea, but she’d never admit it, obviously. There’s another truth she’d never admit, this one even more embarrassing in her opinion - she wants to win some stuffed animals so she can decorate her dorm which she’s suddenly decided is incredibly barren.

Daniel had no problem agreeing to the idea of a carnival date, especially not when Taylor agreed to go on the rollercoasters with him. The rides aren’t all that impressive but they are enough to get your adrenaline rushing and he’s prepared to settle for that with the added bonus of the fact that Taylor probably wouldn’t have accompanied him if the rides were impressive by his standards.

After a successful negotiation, Daniel’s spent the short but drawn out walk to the first ride they plan on going on with his arm wrapped Taylor’s shoulders, convincing her there’s nothing to be afraid of and that the ride is perfectly safe.

“It doesn’t even go upside down!“ That’s an argument he uses as though it’ll change anything about Taylor’s feelings on the ride or make her any more enthusiastic about getting on. If it were to go upside down she wouldn’t be anywhere near it let alone on it. “Besides, it’s less than three minutes and I’ll be by your side the whole time, T. Nothing to worry about.“

Taylor, unable to say no to the excitement of her boyfriend, succumbs with an eye-roll, “Fine, but if I puke on you it’s your own fault.”

Lifting his hands up in surrender, he continues guiding her to the entrance of the ride where they make it within less than a minute before the ride starts. However, right as she’s about to step onto the platform, Daniel’s arm gently tugs her back. In response to the unexpected gesture Taylor stops in her tracks, turning her head to give him a confused look. Daniel doesn’t reply verbally, but the grin on his face and the tilt of his head that point to a sign displaying the required height to get on the ride say it all.

“It’s your lucky day.“ He laughs, seeing the frown upon her face as a response to the teasing look in his eyes. Taking hold of her hand he leads her away from the ride stifling laughter at the cute displeased furrow of her brows. “Let’s go get you your stuffed animals.“

“Great game!“ Taylor claps her hands together when she sees Daniel exit he changing rooms following a particularly intense match that ended in a draw, leaving both teams displeased to a certain degree.

Despite the bitter feeling of not having lost but not having won either, Daniel lets a wide smile spread across his face when he sees the excitement in Taylor’s eyes. He knows she’s clueless about more than half the things going on in the field but her support is limitless and unconditional which makes him so incredibly fond of her - even more than he already was.

“Thanks, it could’ve been better though.“ He replies, shrugging as he leans down to give Taylor a hug, “You coming to the party with us?“

Pressing her lips in a thin line when the two pull away, she gives him an apologetic shake of her head, “Sorry, I have an essay to finish and an exam to study for. I hope you have fun though.”

He does an expert job of covering up his displeasure with her absence as to not make her feel guilty about it, “Don’t worry, wish I could help you with it. I mean, I don’t have to go...”

Taylor scoffs, giggling a little bit at the cuteness of the boy standing before her, “Nonsense.” She says with a playful eye roll as she pushes up on her tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Just as she’s about to turn around and walk away, she catches glimpse of the oddly sentimental look in his eyes and the small smile on his lips, lightyears away in comparison to the one he wore previously. “What is it?”

“Nothing.“ He shrugs yet again, “You’re just super cute when you do that.“

Taylor huffs, “You’re lucky you’re tall.”

She was practically asking for it

“Nope, I’m lucky you’re short.“

That earns him a punch to the shoulder before she storms off a frown and a blush on her face. And a smile she’s suppressing.

The Revenge

It’s spring, the smell of the freshly bloomed flowers and trees tickles their nostrils as the couple walk in the park, the sunlight warming their skin. Spring break has never been an exciting time period for either of them. Hell, they didn’t even go home and chose to stay in the dorms instead so they could spend the time they had with each other rather than with their families who’d either bore them to death with awkward questions or make them regret coming back via a different method.

Daniel and Taylor are discussing the movie they just saw, completely unaware of the world around them as they do so. That happens frequently - when they’re in each other’s company, lost in conversation, they often end up forgetting they’re not the only people on this planet. Not the only things either.

“Oh come on, he was so annoying. I like a good villain as much as you do but he was ridiculous.“ Taylor complains, one hand resting above her eyes to shield them from the sunlight in order to be able to look up at Daniel who in return is gazing down at her, head slightly bowed.

“That just makes him cooler - he’s so ridiculous and such an airhead but he’s super intelligent. Did you see what he came up with? That doesn’t say ‘ridiculous’ to me.“ Daniel replies, receiving a frustrated huff from Taylor in return.

“Whatever, he’s still super annoying and no amount of intelligence can change that.“ She persists, frowning as if that’ll emphasize her point better.

Just as Daniel’s about to reply, however, he’s quickly silenced by the smacking of branches against his face. He panics momentarily, caught off-guard by the not painful but still unpleasant impact. But when he hears Taylor’s laughter, he brings himself to open his eyes and stop his arms from flailing around in self-defense of the twiggy branches that he walked into. When he turns to look at Taylor he sees she’s not at all affected by the same affliction, seeing as how her height allows her to pass right under the branches untouched.

“That is what you get! That is what you earned!” She calls back to him as she keeps walking down the path, “You joke about my height, Mother Nature’s gonna punish you.”

This gets a laugh out of him as well as he jogs to catch up to her, “Hey, I never joke about your height! I just ACKNOWLEDGE it in a playful manner.” He corrects her, looking down hoping for a laugh or something but only receiving a glare in return.

Before another set of branches hits him in the face.

17 notes · View notes

simplybakugou · 4 years

Text

How can I love the heartbreak, you’re the one I love

↝ Years have passed since Bakugou met you and yet you’re all he ever thinks about. As he reconnects with you after all this time, he can’t help but reminisce on all the moments you spent with him, especially those suffocating and troubling days in the hospital in room 405.

SONG: How can i love the heartbreak, you’re the one i love by AKMU

⋆ PAIRING: bakugou x female!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; angst; hospitals ⋆ WORD COUNT: 14636

A/N: So I initially was going to make this a fic but that shit FLOPPED so i’m just breaking this into different sections. Also, I’ve spent WEEKS trying to write this so please let me know what you think! (plus this is the longest thing I’ve ever written omg).

It’s based off of AKMU’s song. This song is so beautiful and the link to the song is here. I also decided to remake my short fic about terminally ill s/o from a while ago and incorporate that in as well.

Also thank you @bnhabadass for your editing suggestions and especially thank you to @k-atsukidayo. I love you Fey, and thank you again for giving me such amazing suggestions and making this so much better!

Tagging: @freckledoriya

✐posted 05.11.2020✐

❝I purposefully take a few steps back, I look at you walking without me

There is a void beside you upon the gray road you look back❞

The weather was perfect. The breeze was subtle but still strong enough to send chills down Bakugou’s spine as he closed the door to his home behind him. He moved to shove his hands in his pockets, having to put one arm up to shield his eyes from the sun glaring down at him. He sighed as he continued along the brick path, squinting down the road.

The path was crowded and filled with all kinds of people: parents walking with their kids, couples walking hand in hand, and dogs roaming around with their owners. They were all looking up at the same thing: the cherry blossoms. The wind was perfect in assisting the blossoms as the fallen flower petals danced rhythmically against the breeze. They travelled down the path, as if they were leading Bakugou to you.

A few kids in U.A.’s uniform began running down the path, running after the petals. Bakugou couldn’t help but move the corners of his lips upwards, reminiscing on a time that felt like centuries ago.

The time when you were always by his side.

~~~

Bakugou’s leg wouldn’t stop shaking vigorously. His arms were crossed over his chest as he constantly kept checking his watch. You were late…

“If this shitty girl doesn’t show up in the next five minutes I’m getting the fuck out of here,” he grumbled under his breath.

As if you were summoned by his pure rage, you pushed open the doors to the little cafe, scanning the tables to find a certain enraged blonde. After finally locating him, you bowed your head slightly, clapping your hands together. “Forgive me! I’m really sorry.”

Bakugou felt his brow twitch. “You better have a good fucking reason for making me wait. You were the one who wanted help with studying.”

You slung your bag onto the chair next to you, sitting yourself down beside it. You reached into your bag, pulling something out. Leaning on the table, you rested your elbows on the surface. “Have you been to the brick path near school?”

“What?”

“Give me your hand.”

“What the fuck are you trying to do?”

“Just give me your hand!”

Bakugou sighed, rolling his eyes as he complied, extending his hand out in front of him. You placed the item, covering it with your hand cupping over it. “Well, that brick path has all of these beautiful cherry blossom trees. And I was just looking at them ‘cause they finally bloomed and I thought of you!”

You lifted your hand, revealing a few blossoms that you had plucked. Bakugou felt his cheeks burn up, looking the other way to avoid your gaze. “Whatever. Why the fuck would you think of me while looking at some fucking flowers?”

You shrugged, smiling. “I dunno. You were the first thing that came to mind.”

Bakugou moved his hand over, letting the flowers fall onto the table. He opened his English textbook, flipping to the middle. “Let’s just get this over with. We’re in our final year now, there’s no time to fuck around.”

***

A few months had passed since that day that you and Bakugou were preparing for midterms. You kept spending a majority of your evenings with him, using the excuse of needing his intelligence and tutelage in order to pass your classes. He would never admit it, but he enjoyed your company no matter how annoying you could get sometimes. You were just always so joyous, like you could beat the sun’s rays with your own light.

Aizawa continued teaching the class as everyone diligently paid attention. Months ago, a time in which Bakugou hadn’t spent so much time by your side, he would’ve been able to pay attention as well. But here he was, his eyes glued to your empty desk. You had asked to go to the bathroom in the middle of class. An hour had passed and you were still gone.

Aizawa looked at the clock, noticing Bakugou’s busy eyes glued to your desk. He then realized how long you had been gone. “Ashido, go check on Y/N,” Aizawa said, his back to the class as he wrote something on the chalkboard.

Mina nodded, getting up and leaving the classroom. Minutes had passed and Mina hadn’t returned either. Bakugou felt his leg shake up and down as his anxiousness only grew. What the hell is happening?

Mina finally came back, a panicked look on her face. Aizawa recognized this, pulling her out in the hallway and closed the door so the class couldn’t eavesdrop on the conversation.

“What’s that about?” Jirou asked from her seat beside Bakugou.

Kaminari shrugged from beside her. “I’m not sure but it doesn’t look good. Hopefully nothing bad happened to Y/N.”

The rest of class went painstakingly slow. Mina couldn’t focus for the remainder of class either, her eyes fixated on the clock. Everyone wanted to ask so many questions but refrained from doing so. Finally class had ended and Bakugou didn’t hesitate to approach Mina. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero followed, crowding around Mina’s desk.

“What the fuck is going on?” Bakugou demanded.

“Yeah, is Y/N okay?” Kirishima asked.

Mina had her head down, hesitant as she began to speak. “I thought Y/N was just sick which was why she was taking such a long time. But when I went in, she collapsed on the floor. I think she hit her head when she fell, too, because there was blood--”

“Where is she now?” Bakugou interrupted.

“Recovery Girl transferred her to Meijo Hospital a few blocks down,” Mina responded.

Bakugou didn’t hesitate to run out of class, his feet moving faster than he could control as if they were moving on their own. He could faintly hear his friends calling out for him but he ignored them and managed to get out of the building as fast as he possibly could, his eyes locked onto the silhouette of the tall hospital building.

He couldn’t understand why he felt something inside of him snap when he had heard that you were hurt. After all, you transferred to U.A. at the beginning of your final year. You were an outsider and you didn’t know if you would be able to assimilate into class A. But, fortunately for you, Mina was the first friend you made, inviting you to hang out with her friends often. Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero practically opened their arms to you when you first met them. But your eyes were always drawn to the sulky blonde headed boy with the permanent frown on his face. The day you met Bakugou, you made it your mission to pester him and get close to him. Initially, Bakugou had found you to be the most irritating person he had ever had to deal with. But as the time went by and you were practically always by his side to the point where your classmates thought you two were dating, he began to oddly enjoy your company.

Bakugou ignored the stares he got from bystanders as they stared at the kid in the U.A. uniform running towards the hospital. Once he did reach it, Bakugou went straight to the front desk. “Is (L/N) (F/N) here?”

“One second,” the receptionist said, looking through her files. “Yes, she’s in room 405.”

Bakugou immediately moved towards the elevators until he noticed the long line of people patiently waiting. He cursed under his breath, running towards the stairs. His feet moved as fast they could, skipping steps all the way up until the fourth floor. His eyes began roaming rapidly at the numerous rooms in the hallway, finally reaching 405. He slid open the door, panting as he attempted to catch his breath. His eyes widened at the sight before him.

You were sitting upright on the hospital bed, a bandage around your forehead. An IV drip was attached to your forearm. You flinched at the sudden sound of the door sliding open, turning your head to the source of the sound. Your face lit up at the sight of your closest friend visiting you, your lips turning upwards. “Katsuki.”

Bakugou sighed, finally able to catch his breath. He glared at you. “You fucking idiot. What the hell happened? Why’d you collapse?”

You smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “It seems I overworked myself. My quirk takes a lot out of me, you know.”

Your quirk, Flame, was pretty simple, just being able to expel flames from your body. But with finals and graduation creeping around the corner not to mention that you had only transferred to U.A., you felt that you had pushed yourself to keep up with everyone around you. Ignoring your health was foolish but you wanted to become a pro hero even if it was the last thing you could do.

“But I promise that I’m fine. I promise that I’ll get better before you know it.” Bakugou rolled his eyes at your foolishness. You patted the cushion of the chair that was beside your bed. “Can you stay for a while and tell me what I missed in class, Katsuki?”

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you to stop calling me by my first name? You’re the only one who does that shit!” You snickered, ignoring his words. Bakugou sighed, complying anyways as he sat down. He dropped his book bag beside him and pulled out his notes and spent the rest of his visiting hours helping you as best as he could.

~~~

Bakugou smiled at the kids in their U.A. uniforms as the memory of the two of you in that hospital room replayed over and over in his mind. It was the start to a new budding romance and yet you were damned from the start.

If Bakugou could take it all back, he sometimes thinks that he would. The pain and suffering he had to endure once meeting you was a feeling he wouldn’t wish upon even his worst enemy. But everytime he thinks he would’ve been better off without meeting you, he knew he wasn’t fooling himself with such a lie. You were always on his mind ever since the day he met you back in U.A., like you had casted a spell on him since the beginning.

And after all these years had passed, you were still charming him. You’re still the only thing on his mind.

❝Just then, I realized that I can never leave your side

No matter the distance and the problems that we faced, it's easier to fight against than the thought of letting go

So, tell me now, how can I love the heartbreak when you’re the one I love

To give you up because of love or from the heartache and pain, oh my heart, that's something I can never do❞

As Bakugou walked down the brick road, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, answering the call and brought the device to his ear.

“What?”

“Hello to you, too,” Kirishima said with a laugh. “I was just calling ‘cause I don’t see you at the agency today. Kaminari, Sero, and I were coming by to see if you wanted to catch up after all this time. It has been two years since we’ve talked about our lives other than work, ya know.”

“I took the day off. I’m gonna spend it with Y/N.”

Kirishima paused for a moment and sighed. “After all these years, you’re still ditching us to see her.” His tone was light so Bakugou knew he was only teasing him. “I get it. It’s been years since you’ve seen her. We’ll catch up another time.”

“Thanks… for understanding.”

“Don’t mention it, man. Say hi to her for me.” As he hung up, Bakugou couldn’t help but feel a strange tug in his chest, as if there was a fire burning inside him. Everytime he thought about you, you always made him feel that way and the way you always “promised” to get better. Promise. That was your favorite word. You always made promises that you knew you couldn’t keep. Bakugou couldn’t help but reminisce on all the times you made such foolish lies. You were better off becoming an actress than being a hero, being too foolish to be a hero. A foolish hero that cared more about others than her own health.

~~~

“Don’t forget the food!” Mitsuki yelled from the kitchen as she pushed piles of bento wrapped in furoshiki into her son’s hands. “Oh! And she’s probably bored in there so I got her some magazines.” She opened up Bakugou’s bookbag and shoved the magazines inside.

Bakugou groaned. “You’re going overboard. She’s gonna think I’m fucking insane.”

Mitsuki flicked her son upside the head. “No, she’s gonna see how much you care for her. Now get out!”

She practically shoved her son outside, slamming the door shut. Bakugou grumbled under his breath holding the furoshiki in one hand and shoving his other hand in his pocket. The sun was beaming down on him and the cloth in his hand made his palm sweat. The several children playing around outside irritated Bakugou, especially when they started to stare at the now infamous class A hero in training. Nevertheless he ignored them, thankful that Meijo Hospital was so close to his house.

He entered the building, the nurses and receptionists greeting him as he was now a frequent visitor. They whispered amongst themselves, fascinated that among your classmates and friends, Bakugou was the only one who never failed to see you every single day, no matter how busy he was with finals and graduation.

Once the elevator reached the fourth floor, it was like second nature by now for Bakugou’s feet to take him to room 405. He slid the door open, surprised to see your bed empty. One of the nurses turned around as she was changing the sheets on your bed. “Oh, Bakugou. If you’re looking for Y/N, she’s on the roof.”

Bakugou was puzzled. “The roof? The hell is she doing up there?”

The nurse laughed at his reaction. “She wanted some fresh air. She’s been holed up in this room for months so we let her spend some time up there.”

Bakugou nodded, closing the door as he made his way back to the elevator. Truthfully, it had been months since you were first admitted to the hospital. No one told Bakugou why you were in there, and everytime he asked you about it, you would quickly change the subject. It was quite obvious that there was something you were hiding, especially since even the nurses and doctors never told Bakugou anything. There was no way that overexerting your quirk could make you hospitalized for all this time.

Bakugou pushed open the door to the roof with his foot, shielding his eyes with his free hand from the beaming sun. He could barely see from the sun’s fierce rays but through slit and squinted eyes, he could make out your back. You were facing away from him, looking down below the building. He walked closer to you, setting down his bag and the food gently so he didn’t scare you. Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on the ledge on the concrete, looking down at what you were engrossed in.

The height of the enormous hospital building allowed you to see for miles upon miles of buildings and freeways. U.A. was at the epicenter of all of the attention, the school standing tall amongst the smaller buildings. But amongst all of the chaos of the city, there was a brick path, which was elongating throughout the city. Among that path, rows upon rows of cherry blossom trees decorated the edges as if meticulously laid out like ornaments.

You finally took notice of Bakugou's existence, flinching a little at his sudden presence. “Katsuki? I didn’t even hear you come.”

Bakugou gestured to the view below you. “Probably ‘cause you were too focused on this.”

You smiled, resting one forearm on the ledge due to your other arm being connected to the IV drip. “It just looks so pretty. The trees stand out so much, especially all the pink petals floating around.”

“Only you’d pay attention to something so dumb.”

You jutted out your bottom lip in a pout. “You’re just a debbie downer and can’t appreciate life in all its glory.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes at you, but noticed how your knees began to tremble as you gripped tighter onto the IV stand for support. Before your legs caved in, nearly crashing onto the concrete, Bakugou sprung quickly into action. He caught you, protected you, one arm grabbing your hip and the other circling your lower back. You were flustered, not only from the sudden contact, but from the weakness of your limbs.

Bakugou fought off the urge to look away from how close the two of you were, focusing on maneuvering you over to one of the benches that were laid out on the rooftop. “Are you okay?”

You blinked, as if you were taking yourself out of a trance from the shock. “I’m… I’m fine.”

Bakugou felt his cheeks burn up as he thought about what he just did and as a way to take his attention from that, he decided to confront you with a question he so desperately wanted to know the answer to, “Why are you really here for? There’s no way using your quirk too much can make you fucking collapse like this.”

You pursed your lips together, wheeling the IV over to the side of the bench. “It’s actually complicated. I’ve always been sick since I was a kid so this happens sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

You nodded. “It’s happened before but I always bounce back up, I swear. You don’t have to worry about me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou scoffed, looking the other way. “I didn’t say shit about me worrying. The others kept annoying me and asking questions about, s’all.”

You laughed, knowing Bakugou’s behavior all too well. “Speaking of, why’d you visit this time?”

“Alright, I’ll just fucking leave then--”

“No!” You said, laughing as you grabbed onto his forearm and pulled him back down next to you. Your touch was cold against his warm skin “I wasn’t complaining. I really do enjoy your company.”

“Tch, you better.” He leaned down and grabbed the furoshiki and his bookbag. “I didn’t have my old hag pack you all this food and take more notes for you for nothing.”

“Your mom cooked for me again?” You asked, your mouth watering already despite not even consuming Mitsuki’s delicious food yet. “You really don’t have to do all this for me, I’m alright, I swear.”

“‘Alright’ my ass. I’ve told you before that I don’t mind doing this and I’m not just gonna stop because you feel bad.” He pulled out his notebooks, ignoring your groans. Finals were around the corner and then came graduation. Bakugou, although he would never admit it to you, was concerned with what you were planning to do here on out. No matter how many times you tried to convince him and tell him that you were going to get better soon, he couldn’t believe you.

A gust of wind past as you felt your (H/C) locks sway along with its rhythm. The pages to Bakugou’s notebooks turned rapidly. You let out a gasp as the wind died down. “Look!”

The cherry blossoms from the path had blown its petals over with the wind. They fell softly and silently, as if they were snowflakes in the winter’s harsh conditions. But the sun contradicted this illusion as its ray lit up the petals like tiny pink fairy lights. You were smiling from ear to ear at the sight, cupping your hands together as an attempt to catch as many petals as you could. Bakugou watched on, feeling his heart rate increasing the more he laid his eyes on you.

You turned to him. “Close your eyes,” you commanded.

Bakugou sighed, not having the energy to defy you and knowing that you were planning to do something with those petals. That was why your next actions shocked him more than he could have ever imagined.

He heard you let out a deep sigh. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time ‘cause I was too scared to do it. But I’ve been feeling a little… brave now.”

Before Bakugou could let out the words “do what?” he sucked in a breath as he felt your warm lips plant themselves onto his own as you cupped his face in your cold hands. The wind continued to blow softly, your hair flowing along with it as the fruity smell of your hair engulfed his nostrils. Your kiss was gentle like your smile and Bakugou felt himself become hotter. Your lips were soft and warm, unlike your ice cold touch.

You pulled away, your face flushed as the gravity of your actions set into your mind. Bakugou felt his own face heat up as he began to realize what you had done, dropping the notebooks from his lap. His eyes were wide, his mouth agape in incredulity. You let out a snicker, immediately angering Bakugou.

“What the hell is so funny?” He asked, his cheeks flushed.

You shook your head. “You just looked so cute, Katsuki.”

“C-ute?” Bakugou whispered slowly in disbelief. You were unbelievable, mind-boggling at times to him.

You sighed. “I just didn’t know how to thank you. But every time I tried thinking of a way, nothing came up so I decided to do that.”

You stared at Bakugou’s face for a minute, basking in his expression. For a second, you felt a tug in your chest, like you didn’t want to ever forget his expressive crimson eyes. You scooted closer to him on the bench and leaned over, wrapping your arms around his neck as best as you could from your position. Everything you did just sent utter confusion to Bakugou’s brain, his body feeling rigid against your touch. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. If I’m being honest, I don’t know exactly when I’ll get better. It might be four months or four years, I don’t know.”

You pulled away from him, holding his hands in your own. He had callouses all over the palms of his hands but even though there were bumps and ridges on his skin, he felt so warm and soothing. “You don’t have to put up with this anymore. You can walk out right now, and I won’t think ill of you. You’re heading into the real world as a pro and you deserve to not have to worry about me.”

Bakugou felt his face become hotter, but not from shock or embarrassment this time. He felt angry with you. He was angered that despite everything he had done for you, the daily visits, the tutor sessions, or the lunch breaks with him, you felt as if he was ready to just walk away.

Bakugou parted his lips to say something but you shook your head. “You don’t have to say anything now, I’m serious. I honestly don’t know when I’ll get better. I have my family looking after me so you don’t have to worry about me. You should focus on finals and graduation and your future.”

His eyes stared back into your own, trying to decipher what was going through that head of yours. The things you said and did were all unfathomable and incomprehensible. It made things even harder for Bakugou to say anything. Only you would be the kind of person to kiss someone and then give them the option to walk out of your life.

Before Bakugou could even think another thought, the door to the rooftop entrance opened. Your nurse smiled at the two of you, pointing at her watch to indicate that it was time for your medicine. You nodded, using your IV stand as a crutch as you pulled yourself up to your feet. Bakugou stood up quickly, holding your forearm in his hand to steadily hold you up.

“Can you walk?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Don’t underestimate me too much.”

Ignoring your words, Bakugou stood behind you, ready to catch you if you so happened to fall. He had his hand hovering over the small of your back as you walked back into the building. The nurse smiled at Bakugou as she put her hand to the IV stand. “I’m guessing we’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Uh, yeah.”

You smiled and waved back at him. “Thank you and your family for everything, Katsuki. And please consider what I said seriously.”

Bakugou watched as you and the nurse walked back to room 405, the sound of the door sliding open and close echoing through the hallway. He stayed there for a few moments before finally deciding to go back home.

***

On any other day, Bakugou was able to fall asleep fairly quickly and early as he was unusually strict about his sleeping schedule. But tonight, his mind was whirring with an abundance of thoughts. And you were the only thing that kept popping up in his mind. He felt himself blush as he envisioned your lips on his over and over again. He threw the duvet off of him as he began to grow hot the more he saw your face. Bakugou got up and went to the bathroom; turned the sink on and splashed cold water onto his face.

Your words and voice kept echoing through his mind as well. He wished he could tell you how he felt and how angry he felt when you spoke to him as if you were running on borrowed time. But he didn’t get the chance to question you any further.

A few knocks came through from the opposite side of the door, snapping Bakugou out his trance as he opened the door. Masaru stood by the doorframe, a puzzled expression on his face. “Katsuki, what’re you doing up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Bakugou said curtly, flicking the light switch off and making his way back to his bedroom.

Masaru followed him, standing by the door as he watched his son sit on the edge of his bed and stare up at the ceiling. “Is something bothering you?”

“It’s nothing, just school stuff.”

“Is it about Y/N?” Bakugou looked back down at his father and Masaru smiled as he was able to correctly read his son. “I had a feeling something happened with her.”

Masaru walked inside and closed the door behind him, turning the light on. He sat beside Bakugou as his son continued staring at the space in front of him. “How’s she doing?”

Bakugou let out an exasperated sigh. “I can’t tell for sure. She’s not giving me a straight answer and it’s pissing me off. Like she’s keeping a huge secret from me.”

Bakugou paused for a moment, internally deciding whether or not to confide in his father. Deciding to do so, he glanced at Masaru momentarily. “I need advice.”

Masaru raised his brows slightly. He knew Bakugou as someone who always kept to himself and disliked others prying in his life. It was the first time he was coming forward and asking for something. “Of course, son! What’s wrong?”

“It’s about Y/N. She was being… nice...” Bakugou cleared his throat, not wanting to address the kiss, “she was being nice all day but all of a sudden she said some bullshit about giving me the option to walk out of her life and not have to worry about her. It’s all I can think about and it’s fucking pissing me off.”

“Why is it making you feel annoyed?”

Bakugou turned around to face his father, an irritated expression on his face. “Because I’ve been busting my ass off and helping her out all this time and she’s repaying me by saying she wants me to ‘think about my future.’ She’s acting like she’s gonna die tomorrow and she’s fucking giving up.”

“Hmm…” Masaru hummed, thinking for a moment before continuing. “Seems to me that she’s trying to spare your feelings.”

Bakugou furrowed his brows in confusion. “Spare my feelings?”

“I think it’s safe to assume that what Y/N is dealing with isn’t something that’s going to allow her to live her life normally like she used to a few months ago. This… illness that she’s dealing with must be long-term and she doesn’t want you to have to see her in her most vulnerable state. She wants you to focus on your life.”

Bakugou scoffed, his hands clenching into fists. “That idiot… why the fuck would I spend so much time visiting her and looking after her if I was gonna just walk away like a fucking moron? If she thinks she can just deal with this all without at least talking to someone then she’s a bigger idiot that I thought she was.”

“So you’re trying to say that you’re going to always be there for her no matter what?”

Bakugou hesitated, realization setting in as he began to understand the whirlwind of confused thoughts and feelings inside of him. “Yeah…”

Masaru smiled. “Then go tell her! It’s no good for you to just sit around and talk to me. The poor girl probably thinks you’re just leaving like that.”

Bakugou’s hands rested on his knees, fingers clenching around the fabric of his pants as he pondered momentarily. Everytime he attempted to figure out what to say around you, he couldn’t help but feel mentally aggravated. You were always confusing him and throwing curveballs at him to make him feel thirty different emotions at the same time. Bakugou turned to face his Dad once more.

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna say when I get there but I’ll try.” He got up, grabbing his hoodie as he made his way out. He stopped in the hallway, turning around. “Thanks… I guess.”

Masaru smiled as he watched his son grab his keys and leave the house. In all of the years he’s watched his only child grow, he’s never seen the amount of emotion and vigor Bakugou possessed until he was around you or talked about you. Even a girl he had known for only more than a couple of months had such an effect on him that even he didn’t realize what you were doing to him.

***

Bakugou opened the doors to the hospital, his chest rising up and down as he attempted to recollect himself after sprinting all the way here. The receptionist at the front desk looked at him with a concerned look. “Bakugou? What’re you doing here so late? Visiting hours just finished.”

Bakugou leaned on the counter. “Please let me see her. I just need a few minutes, not that long.”

The woman looked weary, looking down at her clipboard but Bakugou wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Five minutes. I just need to tell her something and I’ll leave. I swear.”

The woman sighed. “I’ll be in real trouble for this so please make it quick. Five minutes is all you get.”

Bakugou sighed in relief, running towards the stairs before the woman could even utter another word. He used his quirk to maneuver himself up quicker than normal and kicked open the door once he reached the fourth floor. He didn’t bother knocking on your door either, sliding the door open so quickly it clattered against the wall causing a loud clank.

You jumped in your bed, dropping one of the notebooks Bakugou had given you. Sitting up, you were puzzled as to why he was here so late. “Katsuki, what’re you--”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

You were taken aback, usually being accustomed to his abrasiveness. “What?”

He took a few steps towards you, standing directly in front of your bed. The proximity of his body to yours even made you flustered. “I don’t give a fuck if you’re sick. You think I didn’t realize that you were going through something serious after being hospitalized for months? There’s no way I’m leaving you now, not when you’re acting like you’re fine when you’re obviously having to deal with a shitty situation. And I don’t give a fuck about what you say or think, I’m gonna be here whether you like it or not.”

Bakugou continued breathing heavily, both from coming here at such a fast pace and from his own words that were spewing out of his mouth. Every other time he was around you, he didn’t know what the right thing to say was, always ending up second guessing himself. But that was every other time. He finally decided to go with his gut and tell you how he was feeling without thinking about the aftermath.

You smiled, laughter escaping your lips. The sound filled the room and Bakugou was confused. “Why… Why the hell are you laughing?!”

You giggled, pulling on his shirt and making him sit by your bed. Cupping his face in your hands, you grinned widely. “You’re incredible, Bakugou Katsuki.”

Bakugou stared back at you, ignoring the heat in his cheeks as he felt your glacial-like hands against his skin. He took your hands away from his face and you watched curiously as he held your hands earnestly. He controlled his quirk enough to heat your hands up, making you feel warmth in your fingertips for the first time in months.

Your fingers brushed over the various calluses on his hands. “I heard you loud and clear. And I’m sorry if I made you angry with what I said. I just didn’t want you to have your hopes up.”

He looked into your eyes directly and intently. “The minute I met you I had my hopes up. I’ve had my hopes up every time I’ve been around you. I mean it, Y/N. You’re gonna have to rip me apart limb from limb if you want me to leave your side now.”

You laughed again, squeezing his hand in yours. In that moment, you had never felt so much warmth practically radiating off of another person. Although all of these feelings and emotions were stirring inside you, you were too afraid to do anything with them. The news of the severity of your sickness made you feel more ambitious than usual but it also made you more hesitant. You didn’t want Bakugou to be involved in something that he wouldn’t know what would be the outcome. Who knew when you would get better and if you would ever recover completely, but in that moment, you refused to let the physical nature of your body control how you would live your life.

❝Should I turn back around a few more times?

We walk along together upon the desolate road, conversation lacking substance

We look out into the distance where the light shines

I realized just then I can no longer move forward

Every step brings me closer to our end and the hand I used to hold seems to vanish in the wind❞

Bakugou shoved his phone in his pocket, the sweat already formulating in his hands as he felt the heat of the summer take its effect on him. He paid no mind to the various looks that he received from onlookers and passerbys. Kids bounced up and down excitedly to their parents, whispering, “Look, it’s Ground Zero!”

Even the old lady running the flower cart was appalled as the infamous hero stopped in front of her stand. She stared curiously as Bakugou inspected the variety of bouquets she had laid out before him. He had his eyes set on a specific one: a completely white bouquet of tulips with hints of pink cherry blossoms hidden behind the fragile white petals.

Bakugou pointed to the bouquet, handing the elderly woman a wad of cash. “I’ll take that one.”

The woman was snapped from her staring, grabbing the bouquet and handing it to him. She smiled. “That must be for someone special.”

Bakugou looked down at the bouquet and down the long path he had yet to walk past. He smiled slightly. “You could say that…”

~~~

Bakugou clenched the bag of pastries in his left hand tightly as he pushed open the now familiar doors to Meijo Hospital. Yaoyorozu and Mina were excited and bubbly when they told Bakugou about visiting you when they ran into him during patrol. Truthfully, he felt guilty for not visiting you as often as he could. Now being a pro hero, he was constantly given work that put him in a position to have to rely on texting and calling you. Once he was free of work, it was already too late as visiting hours were closed. Nevertheless, you always reassured him and told him that you understood that he was busy saving people and you never once complained either. But he couldn’t help but think: were you lonely in that desolate room?

“Ground Zero!” The same receptionist behind the desk from Bakugou’s days in U.A. exclaimed with a bright smile. The other fairly new receptionists were shocked at the sight of the newly professional hero before them. “It’s been so long, I was wondering when you were coming.”

“I was busy. Is she still in room…?”

“405? Yup, she’s still in the same room,” the receptionist said, gesturing down the wide room towards the elevator.

Bakugou made his way towards the elevators, stopping in front of them as he finally took notice of the numerous eyes set on him as people began whispering to one another. Even though he thought he would’ve gotten used to the attention, and although most days he didn’t mind it, he felt particularly annoyed that day. He rolled his eyes, choosing to take the stairs instead. He trudged up the stairs, his footfalls echoing through the empty and long space.

The closer he got to the fourth floor, the heavier his chest felt. The last time he saw you was almost three weeks ago and he noticed how you had gotten sicker and sicker. Your cheekbones were poking against your skin as your face looked sunken in. Seeing how you had not only lost a considerable amount of weight but also how you looked weaker overall made Bakugou experience a pain he never thought he’d be able to feel. And despite your deteriorating appearance, you still had the brightest smile on your face. Your eyes lit up in a manner like no other and you continued to amaze Bakugou.

Bakugou finally reached your door, lingering outside for a few moments. He peered inside through the small frame of glass, watching as you sat up on your bed and looked down at your hands. You had a candle in your hands, taking in a large breath before attempting to use your quirk. You were fully concentrated on the wick of the candle as you slowly lifted your hand to the wick. Just as a small spark of a flame was beginning to form at the palm of your hand, you couldn’t control it and the flames engulfed the entire candle.

Right as Bakugou moved to push open the door to help you, you dropped it to the floor, instinctively grabbing the fire extinguisher and putting the mess out. You dropped the extinguisher to the floor as well, the metal causing a loud clanging sound to erupt even past the door. Bakugou watched as your fists grabbed the bed sheets in aggravation. The tears naturally fell from your eyes and there was no stop to them. You were holding in so many emotions and you couldn’t hold it in any longer. It was too tiring to act like you were always kept together when you just wanted to crumble sometimes.

Bakugou felt his hand clenching the handle of the door, slowly and quietly sliding it open. You didn’t bother looking up, expecting one your parents to have walked in to console you. “Mom, Dad, please leave me alone. I really want to be alone.” The words left your lips like a whisper.

You were greeted by a pair of sturdy arms wrapping themselves around your shaking body, a familiar yet comforting smell, hints of a caramel and earth fragrance engulfing your nostrils. Bakugou was warm against you, like he always was. But he felt even warmer that day.

Bakugou rubbed your back, dropping the bag of pastries on the stand by your bed. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on and I wanna think that you’re keeping it from me to spare my feelings. But you’re not in this alone. You don’t have to shoulder this pain on your own. You’re human and you don’t deserve to beat yourself up over this shit.”

The lump in your throat rose as uncontrollable sobs escaped your lips. Hearing Bakugou’s voice, one that you had missed listening to, made you feel comforted but the severity of your condition was taking a toll on not only your body but also your mental well-being. It had already been nearly two years since you were hospitalized.

Your tears painted his black tee but Bakugou didn’t mind as he rested his cheek against the top of your head and continued to rub your back. Sometimes the only thing you could do was let the tears fall until they ran out and it made it better to have someone there to just hold you.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, wiping away the tears from your face and pulling away from Bakugou.

His hands rests on your shoulders, staring at you with disbelief and concern. “You don’t have to be sorry about this.”

You shook your head. “I… I should’ve just rejected you that night. I shouldn’t have let you get close to me.”

“What do you mean, Y/N?” The way your voice sounded frantic and rushed was mildly scaring Bakugou.

“The doctor is giving me the option of surgery to help me out but the chances of me making it out alive is slim,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you spoke.

Bakugou was perplexed, not understanding why you needed surgery in the first place but it also made him realize the severity of your condition. You looked up at him, laughing at yourself as you realized Bakugou’s confusion as you hadn’t told him what was happening to you. “I’m sorry for not explaining it before… but without making it too complex, my quirk is hurting me. It’s funny ‘cause it’s such a simple quirk, just some flames, but it’s not simple at the same time. Katsuki… my quirk is destroying me from the inside out.”

Bakugou didn’t realize how tightly he was gripping your shoulders as his crimson eyes looked back and forth from one eye to the other. He was waiting for the punchline, waiting for this to be a sick joke and that you weren’t in such a serious situation. He wanted to see your face break out into a smile, that same smile that made him fall head over heels for you. He waited for a moment but he felt his heart shatter to pieces as he continued to look back at the broken girl sitting before him.

He engulfed you back into his arms, holding onto your frail body tight enough that it wasn’t hurting you. He nuzzled his face into the crook on your neck, feeling the frustration build up within him. He never wanted to let you go ever again.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

The tears started culminating again as the sobs escaped your lips. Your hands gripped onto Bakugou’s black tee so tightly that you could feel your own fingernails stab into your palm. “I don’t know what to do, Katsu. What do I do? I’m so scared.”

Bakugou was at a loss for words. He didn’t know either, didn’t know how to comfort you or how to take away the fear you were experiencing. He pulled away from you, brushing away the hairs that were sticking to your tear soaked cheeks.

He let out a sigh. “If this surgery works, will you be okay?”

You nodded. “If it’s a success, my quirk won’t be any good but I’ll be able to live again. But if I don’t take it… there’s barely a guarantee that I’ll be able to live, too.”

Bakugou’s lips curled upwards slightly. “Then there’s your answer. You need to take any chance to get better, to get out of this fucking room. This is your life, Y/N. And I know you’re not the type to take this shit lying down.”

You sniffled, nodding along with him. “I am tired of this room. And… I just want to walk on my own two feet again. But I’m just so scared. I know that if I don’t take this surgery, I’ll be dead but this is just speeding up the process and the stakes are so high.”

Bakugou brought his hand up and patted your hair down. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Not when you’ve got your family and friends here. Not when you’ve got me here and there’s no way I’m letting some fucking quirk or sickness take you from me.”

A small laugh erupted within you, the first smile you had for weeks on your face. You brought your usual icy-cold hands up to cup Bakugou’s face, rubbing your thumb along the new scar on his brow bone from the last villain’s attack. “I keep hearing all the nurses say how strong and handsome ‘Pro Hero Ground Zero’ is. And whenever I see you on the news, I keep imagining the day I get to see you in your hero costume and see in person how you keep saving people’s lives.”

Your smile intensified as you looked back up at Bakugou’s eyes. You were deprived three weeks of seeing your boyfriend, wanting to bask in this moment longer than usual. “I kept thinking of that, you know, kept thinking about the day I can see you and spend time with you outside of this dreadful room. It’s been the only thing keeping me going.”

You sighed, leaning into him and pressing your cheek against his chest. You could hear how fast his heart began to beat, how even the slightest touch made him go crazy. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you for all of the things you’ve done for me, Katsuki.”

Bakugou scoffed, bringing his arms up to hold you against him. “I haven’t done shit, if anything I’m doing the bare minimum. All I’m doing is seeing you, that’s it.”

You shook your head against him. “You don’t understand. As much as I appreciate and love my parents and the others for visiting, the way I feel when I see your face is a feeling I can’t describe in words. Sometimes I feel like giving up, just throwing in the towel ‘cause sometimes that’s just easier. But then I think of you and how persistent and determined you are. I think about how you’ve never given up in your life, not even for a second. Most people see that ambition in you as arrogant but I see it as brave. And I want to be like you.”

Bakugou sighed once more. “You’re unbelievable. You’re the one in the hospital and here you are hyping me up and making my ego bigger than it already fucking is.”

A breathless laugh escaped your lips. Your arms tightened around his firm torso. “You’re a hero, Katsuki. You’re my hero.”

❝So, tell me now, how can I love the heartbreak when you’re the one I love,

To give you up because of love or from the heartache and pain

No, my heart, that's something I can never do❞

Bakugou groaned as his phone began vibrating once again. He begrudgingly fished it out on his pocket, answering it without bothering to acknowledge the caller ID. “What?”

“What, even your mother can’t get a decent ‘hello’ just ‘cause her son’s famous now?” Mitsuki huffed from the other line.

Bakugou rolled his eyes as he continued walking down the path. “What is it?”

“Kirishima called and told me that you’re visiting Y/N.” That fucking snitch… “Your dad wanted me to check up on you since it’s been two years since you’ve seen her.”

“He’s worrying for nothing. I’m fine.”

“Katsuki, you’re not fooling anyone. I can smell the bullshit all the way from here.” Bakugou could hear his mother sigh. “Are you sure you need to see her today? The way you two ended things...”

“Something’s telling me to meet up with her today, okay? I need to see her.”

Mitsuki paused before letting out another sigh. “I can’t even complain about your stubbornness ‘cause you got it from me. Since you’ve made up your mind, tell her ‘hi’ from me and your dad. And tell her we’ve missed her.”

“Alright.” He hung up, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He felt his heart skip a beat when the cool metal touched his fingertips. His feet stopped moving, the gust of wind blowing against his body as numerous cherry blossom petals floated against the wind. The metal band shined in the sun’s light, the giant diamond sitting on the band shining even brighter. Bakugou’s fingers curled around the ring in a fist. The memories from this ring were his favorite, one that he could recall perfectly. It was the one of the last times he saw that beautiful smile on your face, the smile that radiated purity and serenity.

~~~

The weather was practically unbearable that day. Bakugou could feel beads of sweat sliding down his forehead and neck as well as a pool forming at his palms and fingertips. Not only was he worn out from work and patrolling, the weather was just adding onto the trouble.

“Hmm, I wonder who you’re going to visit, Bakugou,” the same old receptionist teased as Bakugou walked up to the front desk and signed his name under the visiting section. She gasped as she took the clipboard from him.

“If I’m not here, who’s gonna keep that shitty girl company?” Bakugou said with a smirk, gripping the plastic bag in his hand.

The receptionist laughed as he walked away and said good-bye. It was like second nature by now to walk into Meijo Hospital to the point where Bakugou recognized nearly every doctor and nurse in your wing. A few of them grinned as he walked past them, going towards good ole room 405.

Bakugou slid the door open, confused as to why your room was empty. He looked down the hallway, getting the attention of one of the nurses. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She was with Nurse Takahashi earlier. She wanted some fresh air so I think she’s on the first floor,” the nurse responded.

Bakugou sighed, sliding the door shut. “This girl’s making me go through this whole fucking building to find her…” he thought to himself.

He begrudgingly made his way down to the first floor, deciding to take the elevator for once. Once he reached the lobby, he scanned the area, attempting to spot your (H/C) locks. He stepped outside, getting frustrated as he couldn’t figure out where you were. Knowing you, you were most likely hiding somewhere trying to scare him.

Which was exactly what you were doing.

Your attempt at popping out from the bush area, screaming ‘boo!’ was a fail as not only did Bakugou expect you to do that, but your being in a wheelchair didn’t help either.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “You’re always doing shit to give me a hard time, huh?”

You grinned widely. “Of course. I have to keep you on your toes.”

You wheeled yourself forward, heading away from the building. “Come on!”

“Are you even allowed to be out here?”

You nodded. “Mhm. Takahashi let me have some free time since I’m fully recovered from the surgery. Plus, I told him Ground Zero was coming to keep an eye on me.”

Bakugou sighed, placing the plastic bag in your lap as he took the handles on the wheelchair in his fists and wheeled you forward. “You’re not on the IV anymore?”

You shook your head, gasping inwardly in delight at the sight of the popsicles inside the bag. “I’m off pain killers. It’s been two weeks since the surgery, you know.”

“You still have to be careful. Didn’t that nurse guy say that there still isn’t a one-hundred percent chance of that quirk of yours being destroyed?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, licking the cool popsicle. “I’m fine, I swear. You’d think that with the six years we’ve been together you’d trust me more.”

“It’s ‘cause I’ve known you for six damn years that I know you get too excited and get reckless,” Bakugou huffed.

You snickered, leaning back. The preparation for the long-awaited surgery was one of the most nerve wracking experiences of your life. Just waiting for the day to come was the scariest part. Due to the severity of the process, as the medical staff was attempting to extract your quirk from you, it took years to prepare for it. Although using something as drastic as the Quirk-Destroying Drug used by the villain Overhaul would have made the process quicker and easier, the drug was mandated illegal for the purpose of the drug as well as the way in which it was created.

Once you went through with the surgery, the recovery period was also difficult to deal with. Your body was learning how to function again as years have passed since the quirk was slowly killing your insides. Although you were off painkillers, it would still take time and lots of physical and mental therapy to be how you were when you were just a teenager. Even though the surgery was a success, your quirk was reduced to the size of a fraction of a bean, meaning that there was still a chance that it could grow and weaken your body once again. Nevertheless, you took that chance and here you were, on your way to a normal life.

Although the recovery period was difficult and it is still difficult functioning everyday, Bakugou was there by your side for all of it. He made sure to visit and help your parents out as much as he could, balancing a demanding job on top of this. He would often get scolded by his agency but he didn’t give a damn. You were his top priority and you will always be his top priority.

You crossed your arm over your shoulder, putting your hand over Bakugou’s. He felt comforted by how warm your touch had become. “I’ve missed you, Katsuki.”

“The hell do you mean, I’ve been here the whole time?” Bakugou asked, pushing you towards the brick path he knew you loved so much.

You laughed, shrugging your shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just that I haven’t been myself, my true self all these years because of all of this and now I finally feel like it again.”

Bakugou smiled softly. For years he saw the effects of your quirk on your physical and mental well-being. As much as you tried to be optimistic for him, your parents, and friends, Bakugou knew that deep down you were terrified and tired of being stuck in that damn room.

You pointed to one of the many wooden benches surrounding the edges of the path, one sitting right under a cherry blossom tree. “Let’s sit over there.”

Bakugou maneuvered you beside the bench, sitting down so he was right next to you. You handed him a popsicle, one that he took happily as the sun’s intensity only increased. Although Bakugou had gotten used to it, you were shocked at how many people were staring at the two of you. You smiled. “I knew you were popular but I didn’t know you were this popular.”

Bakugou smirked, crumpling the wrapper and throwing it into the plastic bag. “You’re looking at a top hero. Of course they’re all staring.”

You laughed. “They’re probably wondering who I am next to you.”

“They can wonder all they want. I don’t give a fuck what they think but if anyone even thinks about saying any nasty comments about you, I’ll fucking destroy them.”

You chuckled, shaking your head and leaning into him. “Always so violent no matter what, huh?”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Eventually the people stopped staring right in front of you, slowly walking past you and making you feel comfortable with the lack of prying eyes. You took notice to Bakugou’s bangs sticking to his forehead, pulling out one of your hair clips. Clipping his hairs back onto his head, Bakugou flinched at your sudden action. “The hell are you doing?”

“You looked hot so I’m just helping you out.” You giggled at how cute he looked, forehead exposed to the world and his same old grumpy face.

“I better not look stupid with this shit in my hair,” he grumbled.

“You look a-dor-able,” you said, enunciating slowly. You pointed down the path. “Let’s go! That’s enough lounging around!”

“You’re the one who wanted to sit here.”

“I know but I want to go down this whole path before the sunsets and we have to head back to the hospital.”

“Alright, gimme a second,” Bakugou said, standing up and pushing you once more.

As you walked with him, Bakugou yelled as he realized the amount of people snickering as they walked past you guys, taking notice to his new hairdo. You laughed along with them and despite his complaining and whining, Bakugou didn’t dare to touch his hair.

Unfortunately, your wish to reach the end of the path was cut short as a woman screaming startled everyone in the area as well as you and Bakugou. Bakugou whipped his head around to the source of the sound, you leaning on the side of the wheelchair to catch a glimpse of the commotion. Bakugou only needed a few seconds to spot a man in a hoodie running in the opposite direction of a flustered woman pointing at him. He had a purse in his hand.

“This asshole,” Bakugou muttered. He quickly pushed you to the side of the path so that you weren’t in the middle of the walkway. “Wait right here.”

“Oka--”

Bakugou ran in the opposite direction before you could say anything else, pushing his hands behind him and using his quirk to increase his momentum. He looked behind him momentarily, making sure no one was behind him to be harmed by his quirk. Once he got closer to the culprit, he yelled, “Hey! Asshole!”

The man turned around, gasping as Bakugou kicked him to the ground, his foot on his torso as the man groaned in pain from the impact of his kick. Bakugou leaned down, snatching the purse from his hand. Fortunately, due to being so close to a hospital, a few security guards rushed towards Bakugou, taking care of the man and thanking Bakugou for his help. Even bystanders walking down the brick path began cheering and clapping, getting a glimpse of the infamous Ground Zero at work.

Bakugou made his way down the path, handing the woman her purse silently before walking towards you. “Thank you, hero!” She called out.

Bakugou waved her off as he caught sight of you, a wide smile on your face as you were joining in on the clapping. Bakugou scoffed at you, moving your wheelchair from the curb. “You don’t have to clap.”

“Oh, come on! It’s my first time seeing you in action, it was exciting!” You exclaimed.

Bakugou chuckled, continuing to wheel you down the path like he had intended before you were rudely interrupted. He patted down his pants, panicking slightly when he felt his pockets empty. Shoving his hand into his pocket, he let out a sigh of relief when he found what he was looking for.

You turned back, eyeing him. “Did you lose something?”

“No,” Bakugou said a little too quickly, making you even more suspicious.

“O-kay,” you said cautiously, deciding to drop the matter… for now. You looked down the path as the brick and cobble road slowly started to fade. “Where are we going?”

“We’re almost there. You love this road, don’t ya? Thought you’d enjoy this, too,” Bakugou said, nodding to the sight ahead of you. You gasped inwardly as you stared ahead. As the brick path ended, the path was located on a slope, looking down on the metropolitan area. The sun was setting, painting the sky with purple and orange hues. The U.A. building stood tall in the center of all of the commotion of the city, giving you an even more perfect view of the city than the rooftop of the hospital. Plus, there were barely any people huddled around this area as they were too engrossed with the cherry blossom trees to enjoy the view.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe.

Bakugou smirked, pleased with himself. He sat down on the curb, at the top of the hill and enjoying the sight. You smiled, getting up slowly, wanting to join him. He stopped you, getting to his feet and gently pushing you back onto the chair. “What're you doing?!”

“I want to sit with you,” you said simply.

“But you can’t walk now.”

“I can walk a little,” you said, raising your two fingers. “You’re worrying too much. I can move this much just to sit next to you, you know.”

Bakugou sighed, knowing that there was no point in arguing with you. He grabbed your hand, helping you sit beside him and he pushed the wheelchair behind the two of you. You smiled up at him, scooting closer to him and latching onto his arm. “It’s nice to spend time like this with you.”

Bakugou hummed, his hand in his pocket as he looked over to you. “It makes me excited to think about all the memories we’ll make when I’m all better,” you said excitedly.

“Me too,” Bakugou said, sweat forming on his forehead once more. His palms were beginning to sweat as well, this time not from the heat.

You took notice to his nervousness, furrowing your brows. “What’s wrong, Katsu?”

Bakugou gripped the object in his pocket with such force that he was shocked it hadn’t broken. He sighed. “Being here with you makes me think about the future.”

You smiled, pinching his cheek teasingly. “What, you’re nervous to spend your future with me?”

He turned to face you, his eyes piercing right through you. He took the velvet box out from his pocket, flicking it open to reveal a metal band with a giant diamond sitting on top of it, one that would put the sun to shame with it shining brightly before you. “No. It makes me fucking excited to want to spend my whole life with you.”

Your eyes widened as you took notice to the engagement ring in his calloused hands. You could only shake your head, not able to believe what you were seeing or form any coherent words. Tears started forming as you stared at him. You were speechless, overwhelmed with love and feelings of security. As time passed and your condition worsened, it was harder and harder for you to even dream about things like marriage. But with Bakugou by your side giving you hope and pushing you to want to get better, it made you believe; can you really live a normal life again?

“Shit, did I fuck it up?” Bakugou asked angrily, annoyed with himself. “I’m supposed to get down on one knee and shit, aren’t I?”

Your (E/C) eyes watched on as Bakugou got up and went down on his left knee, holding the box up to you with an intense look on his face. You covered your mouth in disbelief, the tears now streaming down your face.

“Y/N, will you marry--”

“Yes!” You screamed, your voice echoing through the air. You attacked him into an aggressive hug, causing Bakugou to lose balance and fall backward onto the grassy area. Luckily he managed to catch your body and not lose the expensive ring at the same time. You buried your head into his neck, sobbing as your tears splattered his skin. “A million times yes!”

Bakugou laughed, a weight lifting of his shoulders. “You idiot, I could’ve dropped this shit, ya know?” His expression didn’t match his tone as he grinned widely.

You got up, still on top of him and wiping your face despite your sobbing never ceasing. Bakugou sighed, sitting up and pulling you into his embrace. “You’re not supposed to cry.”

You sniffled, leaning into his shoulder. “I’m just so happy, Katsuki.”

Bakugou shook his head, taking your left hand from your face and sliding the ring onto your finger. He caressed your hair, laughing at your tear-streaked face. You wiped your face once more, gasping for air in between your sobs. “It’s just… for the longest time I didn’t know if I’d ever survive to see the next day. And… And now you’re giving me hope to spend our lives together.”

Bakugou smiled, wiping your face as well, cupping your face in his hands. “Well now it gives you all the more reason to wanna get better.”

You laughed breathlessly, finally ceasing the tears from falling. You looked down at your hand, smiling at the ring. “You don’t understand, Katsuki, you’ve helped me survive more than you’ll ever know.”

You leaned in, planting a soft and warm kiss on his cheek. “You’re the reason why I still exist, Katsu. You give me a reason to want to wake up the next day.”

❝How could I do that to you

Our love that runs deep as the ocean,

Waiting till it runs dry…

The wind was strong that morning. But it wasn’t a slight breeze like usual as it brought harsh flurries of snow and frost along with it. Fortunately for Bakugou, who’s quirk was well suited for these harsh conditions, was fine as he made his way to his agency.

Right when he opened the doors, he was attacked into a hug. Kaminari smiled at him as he attempted to leech off of his warmth. “Kacchan!”

Bakugou grimaced, lifting him up by his shirt and dropping him on the floor. “Don’t ever fucking touch me or say that name ever again, dunce face.”

“Oh, come on! It’s not fair that you get all that warmth ‘cause of your quirk!” Kaminari complained, leaning on the front desk as he shivered in his costume.

Kirishima greeted the two, also clad in his hero costume. “Took you long enough.”

“What the hell are you two doing here anyways?” Bakugou asked, nodding at his receptionists as they greeted him. He made his way to his office and Kaminari and Kirishima followed him.

“We were in town after taking down some giant goat villain,” Kirishima said.

Bakugou closed the door behind them. “Goat villain?”

“Yeah, it was pretty weird. But we knew your place was nearby and we wanted to pay you a visit!” Kaminari exclaimed. “We also wanted to see how Y/N’s doing.”

Kirishima perked up. “Yeah, how is she, man? I heard she’s still in recovery from that surgery from like a year ago.”

Bakugou nodded, taking his gauntlets off and tossing them to the side. “She’s getting better with time. She was getting physical therapy so her body gets used to fixing the damage from her quirk but she got sick so she’s at the hospital.”

Kaminari sighed. “That poor girl can never catch a break. And here I was thinking you two could’ve at least gotten married.”

Bakugou slipped his gloves off and threw them onto his desk. “We already did.”

Kaminari and Kirishima both jumped up, eyes wide. “What?!”

Bakugou showed them the wedding band on his finger. “We didn’t want a ceremony and she didn’t feel like waiting so we just did the paperwork s’all.”

“Congratulations, man!” Kirishima said excitedly.

Kaminari pouted, slumping down on one of the chairs in front of Bakugou’s desk. “No fair, I bet Y/N would’ve looked real pretty in a wedding dress.”

Bakugou glared at him, taking off the rest of his gear including his eye mask and leaving his jacket-like top and pants on. “You better get those perverted thoughts out of your fucking head.”

Kaminari raised his hands up defensively. “I wasn’t thinking anything perverted! I just thought she’d look pretty!”

“Well you’re a fucking pervert either way so I don’t trust any bullshit that comes out of your mouth.”

Kirishima sighed, shaking his head as his two friends continued to argue. Bakugou's phone buzzed on the desk and Kirishima gestured to it. “You gonna get that?”

Bakugou grabbed it, looking at the caller ID. It was your dad, in fact he had numerous missed calls from him. He answered the call, bringing the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Katsuki! Thank goodness you answered, I’ve been trying to reach you for some time now!” His voice sounded frantic on the other end.

“Sorry, I leave my phone in my office when I’m wor--”

“Never mind that; it’s about Y/N.”

Bakugou felt his heart nearly stop beating as he heard your father’s next words, dropping his phone to the floor. He bolted out the room in a panic, ignoring Kaminari and Kirishima’s worried shouts from behind him as he made his way to Meijo Hospital.

***

The receptionist gave Bakugou a worried look as she saw him dashing for the elevator. Normally she would’ve scolded him for running in the lobby but she had heard the grave news as well, turning a blind eye to the matter. Bakugou aggressively jammed the button on the elevator as the doors closed, the ding sound intensifying as he reached the fourth floor. He used his quirk to push him forward as he finally got to your wing, your parents sitting down nervously in the waiting room.

Bakugou approached them, breathing heavily as his heart pounded against his chest. “Where is she?”

Your mother was crying as your father comforted her. He looked up at Bakugou with worry. “The doctor said they don’t know what happened, they said that she was fine one minute and then… they had to go into immediate surgery. Her organs are failing her.”

Bakugou’s legs gave out underneath him, luckily managing to sit on the chair beneath him and next to your father. The surgery from last year was a success and you were slowly yet surely on your way to recovery. “She was fine… what the fuck went wrong?”

Your mother got up, wiping her eyes as she continued crying. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

Your father nodded sadly, watching as she walked down the hall. He turned to Bakugou, sighing. “I’m sure Y/N spared you the complexity of her condition as the medical reason for it is pretty difficult to understand. But similar to your quirk secreting nitroglycerin in your sweat, Y/N’s quirk secretes hydrogen cyanide.”

Bakugou listened intently. “What does that do?”

“Hydrogen cyanide is extremely toxic for the body but it is also flammable, which is what allowed Y/N to create her flames. However, unlike your quirk that secretes nitroglycerin primarily to your sweat, Y/N’s quirk secretes it directly from her endocrine system. I’m not sure if you know but the endocrine system regulates the body by secreting chemical substances into the bloodstream.”

“And that hydrogen cyanide shit’s been in her bloodstream this whole time?” Bakugou asked, not being able to believe what he was hearing.

Your father nodded, the frown still wrinkled on his face. “With the hydrogen cyanide being secreted in her bloodstream, it is affecting her organs, especially since the endocrine system regulates metabolic functions. When she was a child, the secretion was not too much for her to be hospitalized but slowly the dosage started increasing as she got older. She’s had so many of these surgeries but with each surgery, the risk of her being fatally injured in the process kept increasing, too.”

Your father gripped his knees in his hands in anger, frustrated to no end. “No matter what we do… no matter what we try to do to help her live her life, that damn quirk keeps manifesting. All these surgeries are just delaying the process. Her quirk is slowly burning her up.”

Bakugou looked down the hall, staring at your room. He could faintly hear the doctors and nurses’ voices through the door, hearing how frantic and rushed they sounded. All your life you’ve been fighting your own body and Bakugou refused to believe that it was going to end like this.

Your father clapped a hand onto Bakugou’s shoulder, giving him a weary smile. “Don’t worry, son, we’ve got to be hopeful for her. She’ll get through this, she always has.”

“There’s no way I’m ever giving up on her. I married her because I want to spend the rest of my life with her… only her. I’m not letting her leave me like this,” Bakugou said adamantly.

***

Time was going painstakingly slow. Bakugou had already drank three cups of shitty hospital coffee, your mother had gone through two boxes of tissues as her tears kept coming, and your father had bitten his fingernails into short nubs. Remembering how he left Kaminari and Kirishima, Bakugou asked your dad for his phone, dialing Kirishima’s number in.

“Bakugou! We’ve been worried sick, man! What the hell happened?” Kirishima asked in a concerned tone.

“Y/N’s in surgery. I’m with her parents at the hospital. I dunno when it’ll be over,” Bakugou said, leaning against the wall.

“Do you want us to come, too?” Kirishima asked after pausing for a moment.

“No, we’re fine here.” The door to your room finally opened and Bakugou perked up immediately. “The doctors are out, I gotta go.”

Bakugou hung up, handing the phone back to your dad as the three of them got up and started crowding the doctors and nurses coming out of the room.

“How is she, doctor?” Your father asked, hopeful for some good news.

The doctors looked uncomfortable, one finally speaking up after what felt like an eternity of silence. “She’s strong. Probably one of the strongest patients I’ve ever had… but it’s not going to work out.”

Bakugou felt his heart drop to his feet. “The hell do you mean?”

The doctor frowned, nervous with Bakugou’s tone. “She has ten minutes left. That quirk of hers was too strong to get rid of even with the surgeries she’s had. We managed to get these last moments for her. We’re so sorry.”

The doctors and nurses bowed to them to show their condolences. Your mother let out a shrieking sob, running into your room immediately. Your father followed suit, rushing to be by your side. But Bakugou couldn’t help but be frozen on the spot. No matter how much he tried to move his feet, he couldn’t do anything. He refused to believe that this was reality, wishing for this to be his worst nightmare.

Finally he moved, his legs feeling like jelly as he collapsed to the ground, his back hitting the wall. He buried his face in his hands, pulling at his hairs in frustration. You were fine, all this time you were on your way to a full recovery. You were smiling brightly just this morning and now… you were on your deathbed?

Your father stepped out, his tear-stricken face evident as he sniffled. “She wants to see you, Katsuki.”

Bakugou snapped his head towards him, nodding as he rose to his feet. He had to drag his feet into your room, terrified of what he was going to see. He sucked in his breath as he made eye contact with you.

You were hooked to so many machines Bakugou couldn’t keep count. You looked inhumanely pale, your veins peeking through your skin. Your hair stuck to your face and you looked exhausted. Nevertheless, you had the most beautiful smile on your face, one that could make Bakugou fall in love with you all over again. “Katsu… ki.”

Bakugou crouched down beside your bed, holding onto your hand. Your other hand was held by both your parents. Bakugou hadn’t taken notice to the tears falling from his eyes until you brought a shaky hand up to wipe them away. “Katsuki, don’t… cry.”

Bakugou felt himself breathing heavily as the tears continued to fall as he held your hand tightly in his. “You idiot, don’t tell me what to do. Not when you’re here like this.”

You let out a breathy and weak laugh, maintaining your smile. “You really are amazing, Katsuki.”

The tight knot-like feeling in Bakugou’s chest refused to leave as the tears drowned his vision. But he wiped them away vigorously, refusing to lose sight of you. Your eyes wandered down, looking at Bakugou’s clothes. “I finally got to see you in your hero costume…”

“Stop talking, you’re making it worse,” Bakugou mumbled incoherently, his lips quivering as he tried to maintain his composure. Your parents held onto you as tightly as Bakugou did, all three refusing to believe the reality and gravity of the situation unfolding before them.

You smiled once again, using all of the strength you had left to maintain that withering smile. You brought a shaky hand up to Bakugou’s cheek, rubbing your thumb along his cheekbone.

Bakugou’s vision became blurry, tears welling in his eyes as he gritted his teeth in pure anger. “You’re so fucking incredible, you know that? And so badass and strong.”

Your chest was rising and falling unevenly as it became harder and harder for you to breathe. Glancing over to your parents, your eyes glazed with your own tears. “I’m sorry Mom and Dad.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. We’re so proud of you, sweetie,” your mother croaked, your father nodding along.

You smiled once more, a tear gliding down your face. “I love you both. Please look after… Katsuki. And each other.”

The monitor began beeping slowly and Bakugou held your hand in his once again, clenching it as tightly as he could. You gave his hand the slightest squeeze, turning your head to look at him. “Tell the others… that I’m sorry… didn’t get to say goodbye.”

Bakugou nodded vigorously, bringing your enclosed hands to his lips as he planted a soft kiss against your cold skin. “Don’t go, Y/N. Please.”

You laughed again, smiling sympathetically at him. “I wish… we could be… together forever…”

You smiled, your eyes closing slowly. “At least now… I can finally… leave this damn room…”

The heart monitor continued to beep slower and slower. Time stood still as Bakugou heard your last words ring in his ears. “I love you, Bakugou Katsuki. I love you… more than life…”

Bakugou and your parents stared on as your chest fell for the final time, the flatlining of the monitor echoing through Bakugou’s head. Your fingers went limp in Bakugou’s hand and Bakugou felt himself shake with anger.

“This is some fucking joke… there’s no way this is real…” Bakugou whispered.

The doctors came back into the room, and Bakugou didn’t even notice their presence or your mother passing out onto the floor. As they went over to her side to assist her, your father approached Bakugou. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Son, come on, let’s go.”

“No!” Bakugou pushed his hand away, his eyes blazed as he continued to hold your hand in his. “I’m not leaving this room!”

He looked over to the nurses by the doorway. “You’ve got to do something… anything! We can still save her!”

“Katsuki… please,” your father whispered desperately, his body shaking as his own tears never stopped.

“Ground Zero, sir, there’s nothing else we can do--”

“Bullshit,” Bakugou growled, interrupting the doctor. “She’s not dead! She was fine a few days ago! And you want me to believe that she’s fucking gone?!”

“Katsuki, you need to open your eyes, son,” your father was pleading beside him on the floor by your bed. “This is just as hard for you as it is for us.”

Bakugou got to his feet, his fists shaking at his sides as sparks ignited in his palms by his rage. He couldn’t look at you, refusing to see your limp body lying on the bed. He refused to believe anything. “Believe whatever the fuck you want.”

Bakugou ignored the shouts behind him as he stormed out of the room, running as fast as he could. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was doing, going wherever his feet were taking him. She’s not dead, she’s not dead, SHE’S NOT DEAD was all that was repeating in Bakugou’s mind.

That dreary day in room 405 was one that Bakugou would never forget but was also one he would do whatever he could do to forget. He turned his back on everything that day, and he never came back.

~~~

Two years had passed since then. Two painstakingly long years. After that night, Bakugou left the country, travelling to different places to somehow take the pain away, but it was no use. Your face continued to pop up in his mind like a constant reminder that you were gone.

The first month, Bakugou went to South Korea and China. He tried to indulge himself in anything that would distract him. And as hard as he tried, every night he’d wake up in the middle of the night with the image of your dead body in room 405 haunting him.

The next few months, he covered all of Asia, moving to the Middle East, Europe, Africa and so on. He didn’t answer any calls from his parents, your parents, his agency, or his friends. He submitted a leave of absence to his agency, one that he knew would be approved because it was his agency.

Sooner rather than later, a year had gone by and Bakugou was still on his pilgrimage to find something to fill the hole that you had left in him but to no avail. After two months, Bakugou finally returned to Japan, coming home to a frenzy of media as he had decided to go back to work. His colleagues and friends wanted to question him, question what he had been doing but didn’t have the heart to do so. They knew how difficult your death was on him.

When Bakugou went to his family home, he was greeted with swear words and constant yelling from his mother. But he ignored it, actually apologizing to his parents. And like that, Bakugou returned to his life as a pro hero.

However, things took a turn as he finally decided to quit seeking refuge with his parents and return to the home he had bought to live with you once you were fully recovered. The minute he opened the door, he collapsed to the floor, tears welling in his eyes for the first time in a long time as he saw pictures of you everywhere. The pain came back and it hit him like a punch to the face.

Finally here he was today, as Bakugou finally came to a stop at the brick road. The sun was setting, just like it was when he proposed to you on this same hill that day. Bakugou felt a chill down his spine as his eyes fixated onto your gravesite. The grassy area beside the path had been turned to a gravesite per your family’s request. It was your favorite part of the city and everyone who knew you knew how much you loved the area.

Bakugou stopped moving, his feet frozen in place and his hands clenching around the bouquet as he stared intently at your tombstone. He took a deep breath in and out, bracing himself as he took a few slow steps forward. Once Bakugou mustered enough strength to finally step before your grave, he fell to his knees, gently placing the bouquet in front of the urn of ashes. He took the incense sticks and matches on the side of your grave and lit a stick, placing it beside the flowers.

“I’m finally here, Y/N,” Bakugou said breathlessly, smiling softly. “I’m a really shitty husband for showing up two years late, but I’m here.”

He looked at your name engraved into the stone, that alone making his heart beat faster. Bakugou got up from his position and sat down cross legged in front of your grave, letting out a deep sigh. “I’m the biggest asshole there is. My wife died and I didn’t even go to her funeral ‘cause I didn’t wanna believe that it was true that you were gone.”

Bakugou felt his eyes begin to water and he attempted to suppress them, not wanting to cry in front of you. “Death is a fucked up thing, ya know. I saw your body in that damn room, I saw it with my own eyes. But I still didn’t want to believe it because you were still in that room. But when I left, I thought I would come to my senses but I didn’t. I didn’t realize you were really gone until I woke up in the middle of the night and you weren’t next to me to tell me it’s okay. You weren’t there motivating me even when I was being a dumbass or being hard on myself. You weren’t there to say that you love me.”

Despite how hard he tried, a single tear fell from Bakugou’s eye, one that he wiped away immediately. He didn’t want this “reunion” to be a sad one. “Months after I left I realized that you were really gone. Because when you died, it didn’t hit me all at once. It hit me slowly day by day as I began to see you weren’t there. And it fucking hurts, Y/N. It fucking hurts to not see you here.”

Bakugou reached into his pocket, pulling out your ring and put it inside the bouquet. “Your dad mailed that to the house when I came back and I thought I was gonna pass out on the spot. Your parents almost had a heart attack once they saw me after all this time without telling them anything. Hell, my folks were pissed, too, ‘specially my mom and she almost beat my ass.”

Bakugou let out a humorless laugh and then another sigh. “Kirishima and my parents said ‘hi’ by the way and how much they missed you. Kaminari, Sero, and the girls also miss you, too. We all fucking miss you, Y/N. And I’d do anything to have you next to me.”

“But that’s not the point,” Bakugou said adamantly. “I’m not gonna sit here and mope about how much I wish you were here ‘cause that’s expected. I know you wouldn’t want me to be sad ‘cause you’re the sweetest person I’ve ever known who cares way too much about others than she does about herself. And I want you to know that you don’t have to worry about me. I’ve got people here to do that, so you just relax up there. You’re finally free, Y/N. You’re free from that sad ass room and I hope you’re finally happy now.”

Bakugou reached into his pocket one last time, pulling out the unlit and destroyed candles that you had attempted to light a few years ago using your quirk. He placed them beside the bouquet. “Whenever I see these shits I get pissed ‘cause it reminds me about your quirk, about how something you couldn’t control and something that was supposed to help you was what killed you. But now I look at it and it reminds me about all the time we spent together, about all the times we spent in that room.”

Bakugou looked up at your gravesite for one final time, memorizing it as best as he could. “I know you didn’t want me to be a fucked up mess when you were gone, but I couldn’t help it. The heartbreak I felt when you left me is a feeling I could never describe ‘cause it fucking sucks. But I’d go through it all over again if it meant just having another minute with you.”

Bakugou raised a hand to the stone, his fingers tracing the engraving of your name. “I’ve never loved and will never love anyone as much as I love you, (L/N) (F/N). And I can’t wait for the day when I can see you again…”

…will be the day we bid our last goodbye.❞

#bnhabookclub #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academia imagines #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader

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bex-la-get · 3 years

Text

This Unpredictable World (Adam x f!Detective)

Book: The Wayhaven Chronicles

Pairing: Adam du Mortain x Alma Cunningham

Word count: 2808

Summary: “We’ve spent so long trying to protect her from our world, that we never once thought about protecting her from her own.” Adam grapples with the dangers of the human world when Alma is in an accident.

Author’s Note: So, I threw my back out last week (always warm up before working out kids; it’s not worth the injury) and I thought “Ooh, how would UB react if the detective was injured?” And this was supposed to be fluffy, I swear... but then it wasn’t and here we are. Sorry? 😅

TW: Car accident, drunk driving, mentions of blood and injury.

Laughter. That was the sound he missed most.

Alma’s laugh had always been infectious. From the moment he met her, her laughter had drawn him in like a moth to a flame. He had resisted it, at first; fighting the urge to say things that might have elicited that laughter from her. But as time went on, he began to give in. He began to relish the sound of her laugh. The one that made her throw her head back and close her eyes as she reveled in the thing bringing her joy. The one that made his heart skip a beat every time he heard it.

Now, he’d give anything to hear it again. To see that bright smile of hers and watch as her face lit up; to hear her laugh that always reminded him of windchimes echoing throughout the sky. All he wanted was to hear that laugh, to see her smile. If he could just have that, then he knew everything would be okay...

Instead, Adam was stuck staring at the walls of the facility common room, desperately waiting to hear something, anything. The lack of answers was slowly killing him. He needed to know she’d make it out of this. That she was going to live.

Alma had been in a car accident; a bad one. She had been hit by a drunk driver causing her to skid off the road and crash into some nearby trees. She’d sustained some serious head trauma, several broken ribs, and internal bleeding in her lower abdomen. She had lost consciousness almost immediately but not before quickly calling her mother stating she was in trouble.

The Agency had moved fast; faster than normal emergency services would have been able to. One word from Agent Cunningham and several medical units were on their way to the crash site, Rebecca hot on their tail. Unit Bravo, having walked into the chaos that was surrounding the facility, barely had any idea of what was going on until Nate heard someone mention Alma’s name in the same sentence as “car crash.”

Adam’s world had come to a standstill at the news, his heart pounding so hard, he thought it might burst. When he met Nate’s eyes, his old friend nodded once and the four vampires piled into the car, following the medical units to where Alma was. “We don’t know how bad it is, Adam,” Nate had said, attempting to soothe Adam’s nerves. “She could be completely fine for all we know.”

Adam had nodded, but he wasn’t convinced.

When they had arrived at the crash site, his stomach dropped. Alma’s car was crushed in on several sides, smoke emitting from the hood. He couldn’t see her but he could hear the medics attempting to talk to her as they wriggled the door open. He didn’t hear her respond to them.

With a grunt, the medics opened the battered car door and Adam had watched in horror as Alma’s body slumped, nearly falling out of the vehicle. The medics converged over her blocking his view and he moved to get closer. He had to see her up close, he had to know she was okay.

A hand on his shoulder had stopped him and he turned to find Mason looking at him, a look of distress on his face. “Adam, don’t; her blood’s too strong. I can smell it all the way over here.”

Adam looked back at Alma, now being moved onto a gurney, and realized how bloodied she was. He could smell her now too; the smell of her mutated blood reaching him even as he stood yards away. He turned around and took a few steps farther away in an attempt to get away from the overwhelming scent of her. He needed to keep a clear head and, as much as it pained him, the farther away he was from her at the moment, the easier that would be.

The sound of footsteps gained their attention and they turned to find Agent Cunningham walking towards them, her face sullen and pale. “Agent Cunningham,” Nate had said, “we came as soon as we heard. Is Alma going to be alright?”

Rebecca gave them a sad smile. “Thank you for coming; to answer your question, I don’t know. They’re going to rush her back to the facility and assess her injuries there. She might need surgery. I don’t know much beyond that right now.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Felix asked, his usual cheery demeanor replaced with worry.

Rebecca shook her head. “Thank you, but no. Unfortunately, all we can do right now is wait.”

And wait they would. After Alma had been rushed to the facility and the intoxicated driver taken into custody-- their injuries far less severe and life-threatening-- Unit Bravo returned to the facility, the air around them heavy as they waited for an update on their detective. Some time after their return, Agent Cunningham entered the room notifying the vampires that, as of right now, Alma would not need surgery, much to everyone’s relief. But she wasn’t out of the woods yet. “The doctors are keeping her under close monitoring for the next twenty-four hours; they think the internal bleeding will stop on its own but if it doesn’t, they’re going to take her into emergency surgery. Same with her head injury.”

“When is she expected to wake up?” Adam asked.

Rebecca shrugged, the gesture taking more effort than normal. “I don’t know; she’s currently under a lot of medication. She could be out for a few hours or a day.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a ragged breath. “I’m sorry, I wish I had more information.” It was unclear if she was speaking to Unit Bravo or herself.

Nate stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You have nothing to apologize for; we understand how difficult this must be for you.”

She looked at Nate sadly and nodded. “Thank you.” Her phone chirruped and she moved to exit, muttering a small “Excuse me,” as she left. Unit Bravo looked at each other, the same looks on all of their faces. Worry. Distress. Anxious.

Adam was the first to break away from the group, moving to a nearby sofa and dropping onto it heavily. He pulled a small photo-- the one he and Alma had taken when undercover at the carnival-- from his pocket and stared at it, his fingers running over the image of her. It had just been for show, he had told himself at the time; but the way she stared at him in this photo told him otherwise. It had never been for show for her.

And, if he was honest, it had never been for show for him either.

“Are you alright?” a familiar voice asked from next to him. He hadn’t even noticed Nate had sat down with him.

Adam closed his eyes and folded the photo closed. “No.”

Nate rested a hand on his shoulder and Adam looked at him. “We have to believe she’s going to be okay, Adam. Entertaining any alternative isn’t going to help anyone.”

Adam dropped his shoulders. “I know.”

“But?”

Adam reopened the photo and looked down at it sadly. “We’ve spent so long trying to protect her from our world,” he began, “that we never once thought about protecting her from her own.”

“No one could have predicted this, Adam,” Nate reasoned. “Try as we might, we can’t protect her from everything.”

“It’s our job to protect her from everything,” Adam argued. “I-- we should have been there, with her. We could have--”

Nate tightened his hold on Adam’s shoulder. “It was an accident, Adam. A preventable one, yes, but an accident nonetheless. We’re not seers; we can’t predict what’s going to happen every time we walk out the front door. You can’t beat yourself up over that.” Adam sighed and said nothing but Nate knew he had heard him. He squeezed his shoulder once more then stood up. “She’s in the best care possible; and she’s strong. She’ll pull through.”

As Nate walked away, Adam returned his attention to the small photo, once again tracing Alma’s image. “She’ll pull through,” he repeated, in a whisper. “She has to.”

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

Twenty-four hours passed slowly. And with very little update.

Rebecca had been allowed into the room around the eight-hour mark and Unit Bravo had been allowed in a few hours later. If Adam had thought seeing the detective would ease his nerves, he had been wrong. Her blood had been long cleaned off and any open wounds had been cleaned and stitched but she still looked so small. So fragile.

Alma laid unconscious on the hospital bed, her arms and face covered with bruises and scratches. There was an IV attached to one arm while the heart monitor beeped consistently in the corner; not that it was necessary. Adam had been listening for her heartbeat ever since they had returned to the facility. He was reassured that it remained as steady and strong as always. Still, the current sight of her made his heart ache.

He watched the rise and fall of her chest, her breathing steady, then looked over her face, eyes relaxed in sleep. He hoped she was having a good dream; she had mentioned once that she still had nightmares of Murphy. The idea that that monster still haunts her made Adam’s fists clench; he hoped, above all else, that she wasn’t dreaming of him at this time. May she never dream of him ever again.

As the hours ticked on, Unit Bravo began to retire to their rooms, after reassurances from the doctors that Alma wasn’t likely to wake until tomorrow. Even Rebecca eventually retired, emotionally drained from the day. Eventually, the only person to remain in the room was Adam.

When he was alone, Adam moved from his place in the corner to a nearby chair. He dragged it over until it was right next to Alma’s bedside and took a seat. For a long moment, he sat in silence, listening to the sound of Alma’s heartbeat and the quiet sounds of her breathing. Then, he reached for her hand and took it in both of his, his fingers resting on the pulse point on her wrist. It was one thing to hear it, but upon feeling her heartbeat, his shoulders dropped from their tense position and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Come back, Alma,” he said, quietly. He was positive she couldn’t hear him but he still felt the need to say something. Anything, really. He just… needed to talk to her. “Come back to me. Please.” He clasped her hand in his and he placed a soft kiss to her knuckles. “We need you. I need you. Please.”

The night passed slowly, the hours feeling more like days. With the exception of the occasional check-up from Elidor, Adam remained Alma’s only visitor for the entirety of the night, his hand never leaving hers. He would occasionally talk to her, sharing mindless thoughts with her, ranging from a book he had recently read to Felix’s recent antics with Mason’s laundry. He had hoped that by talking to her, she might be able to hear him and know he was there. That he would always be there.

It was nearing sunrise now; the early hours were quiet and undisturbed. Adam’s hand still held Alma’s tightly as he watched her heart monitor, her heartbeat still strong and steady as it always was. A small smile on his lips, he became so focused on the monitor that he almost missed Alma’s hand tightening around his. Almost.

He looked down at their clasped hands before looking to her face to find her hazel eyes fluttering open. He sucked in a breath as her eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the hospital room before locking with his. “Adam?”

He released a sound that was a mix between a laugh and a sob and used his free hand to brush some stray strands of hair behind her ear. “Good morning.”

She leaned into his touch. “What happened?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

He frowned. “You were in an accident. You were--” he hesitated to speak his next words-- “you were hit by an intoxicated driver.”

Alma released a breath. “Shit. Are-- are they okay?”

There she went again, worrying about others before herself. Adam fought the urge to shake his head at her kindness; she was too good with people sometimes. “They do not deserve your concern; as far as I care, they’ve been arrested and incarcerated. That is all that matters.”

Alma frowned in disagreement but didn’t argue the point further. Instead, she tightened her grip on his hand. “Where’s everyone else? Mum?”

“They retired for the evening last night. I should alert them that you’re awake.” He began to slide his hand from hers as he shifted out of the chair but she held on tightly.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. “I-- I don’t really wanna be alone.”

His eyes met hers and a small smile settled onto his lips before sinking back into the chair. Instead, he pulled out his phone, sent off a quick text to the rest of Unit Bravo and Agent Cunningham, then returned his attention to Alma. She was studying his face, a thoughtful look on her face.

“What is it?” he asked.

Tentatively, she reached with her free hand and cupped his cheek. He leaned into her touch almost on instinct. “You look tired. Did you sleep?”

He chuckled dryly. “No. I don’t need to sleep, remember?”

“Adam--” she began, the sound of disapproval in her voice.

He shook his head. “I’m alright, Detective,” he told her, quietly. “I-- I didn’t want to miss an update on your condition. I--we were worried about you.”

She brushed her thumb across his cheek. “Thank you for staying.”

He closed his eyes and relished in the feel of her hand on his cheek. He covered her hand with his free one, as if holding it there. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you, Alma,” he said, softly. It was so quiet Alma almost missed it; but she was grateful she hadn’t.

“I’m here now,” she reassured. “And I’m safe. That’s the important thing.”

He nodded. “That it is.”

“Tu omnia,” she whispered.

He smiled. Then, acting off of instinct rather than logic, he removed his cheek from her hand only to turn his face and place a soft kiss on the inside of her wrist, right above her pulse point. Her pulse sped up at his gesture and he placed one more kiss higher up on her palm. “Tu omnia,” he repeated.

Just then, he could hear the sound of several sets of feet rushing their way towards the hospital room and he stood up from the chair, giving Alma’s fingers one last squeeze, then moved away to the corner of the room. Alma gazed at him confused but understanding soon flickered across her features when the door opened and her mother appeared.

“Alma!” Rebecca practically ran to her daughter’s bedside, pulling her into a tight hug as the rest of Unit Bravo trailed in after her. Alma returned her mother’s hug before looking to the rest of Unit Bravo and smiling. Within seconds, Felix and Nate had her wrapped in a bear hug, Mason standing nearby with his signature smirk, making Alma laugh in response.

Adam’s heart skipped a beat. There was that laugh again; the one he had missed so much, the one he had craved to hear when she had been unconscious. Hearing it now was like hearing a beautiful piece of music for the first time after being unable to hear anything; his shoulders released their usual tension and he smiled softly.

“So, no one’s bothered to tell me what happened to my car,” Alma said, looking at her mother.

Rebecca grimaced. “Uh--”

“Your car’s totaled,” Mason interjected. “But on the plus side, the forest now has a nice shiny fender element to it.”

“Mason!” Nate reprimanded.

Alma shook her head, smiling. “I should’ve known.”

“You can use one of the Agency’s vehicles while we find you a replacement,” Rebecca offered.

“Preferably something that doesn’t look like it’ll break upon getting into it,” Mason muttered.

Nate groaned. “Mason!”

Alma laughed again, making Adam’s heart swell at the sound. There were still some loose ends that needed tying up: Alma would still need time to fully recover and the intoxicated driver would need to be taken care of at some point. But for now, she was smiling and laughing and safe. For now, that was all that mattered.

Tag List: @sanguineverefae @little-flowers-on-heaven @mia143 @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst

#bexwritesstuff #the wayhaven chronicles #twc fic #adam du mortain #a du mortain #adam x detective #adam x alma #alma cunningham #f!detective #twc mc

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lumosinlove · 4 years

Text

Coast To Coast

part iv

(Takes place just before Sweater Weather part xiii’s trip to Florida...and everything else.)

Gryffindor, 2019

Finn knew that it was natural, to be homesick. He remembered being homesick, calling his brother before he had any real friends on the team, just to have another, familiar voice to listen to while he heated up some take-out leftovers in the microwave. But it was different, watching Leo go through it.

“It’s just the cold,” Leo always said with a little shrug, gathering his sweatshirt in his hands, but Finn knew that wasn’t just it. They were about three months into the season, right when the newness had started to ware off for him, too, and Finn could tell that, even if Leo was enjoying himself, he got down at night. He’d go out onto their balcony, bundled to all hell despite it being what Finn considered a relatively mild 50 degrees, as if to recreate some heat, and look up.

Finn usually sat inside, but tonight he followed him.

“Big city, huh?” he said, handing Leo a cup of hot chocolate. At Leo’s suspicious look, he laughed. “I can make this! My brother taught me when I was little.”

“Why do I feel like you had this for dinner sometimes before I came along to cook for you,” Leo smiled into the mug, and took a sip. “Hm. Alright, it’s good.”

“Damn,” Finn said, leaning against the railing, “Nut approved. Knapproved.”

Leo winced, murmuring a, “Please no,” but he laughed anyway and took another sip.

The sound of the city below them seemed far away just then. The lights reflected up and into Leo’s blond hair, flashing red and blue across his face. Finn could only just make out the small patch that was streaked with gray in the dim light. Not for the first time, Finn wanted to reach out and brush his fingers through it.

“Can’t see the stars here,” Leo said suddenly. He glanced down at the lights below them, then back up to the sky. “Not like you can at home.”

Finn looked up. “Guess I never thought about it. Can’t see them in New York really.”

Leo didn’t reply, and Finn looked over at him. His brows were drawn together and he was clutching his cup close to his chest.

“I used to have those those little stars, though,” Finn said quickly. Suddenly, he would do anything to get rid of the hurt etched on Leo’s face. “You know, the ones you stick on the ceiling that glow in the dark? Had those when I was a kid.”

That drew a small smile from Leo, and the knot growing in Finn’s chest loosened a little. “Yeah?”

Finn moved closer to him. Even upset, Leo radiated a stable sort of force that Finn felt at home in.

“Yeah,” Finn said softly. “We could get those. In your room, I mean. Or anywhere. Or, like, string lights. Live your best college life and get string lights. I swear to God, there were more string lights in me and Tremz’s frat house than there were, like, dishes. People. One night stands. Those are…sort of star-like.”

Finn watched Leo nod slowly, eyes still on the sky. He blinked a few more times, as if considering the stars, and then turned to Finn.

“I’d like that, Harzy.”

The knot loosened further, and Finn smiled, putting a hand to Leo’s shoulder over his sweatshirt. “We’ll get them tomorrow. After practice.”

“Bringing the stars to me, eh?”

“I’d get you some real ones if I could,” Finn said immediately, and then clamped his mouth shut. That sounded too—too close to what was really happening inside of him.

Leo looked at him, too, eyebrows drawn together.

“What?”

“Like—” Finn turned to face forward, eyes flicking over the city. “Like real stars? Like—gas. But in a safe way.”

Leo stared at him for another second, and then laughed, nose scrunching. “Safe gaseous stars, huh?”

“Yeah,” Finn drummed his fingers against his cup. “I mean, supernovas are pretty, too.”

“You’re not wrong,” Leo leaned against the railing, staring down.

Finn hesitate only a second, watching the tense curve of Leo’s shoulders rise as he took a large breath, and then leaned beside him, shoulder to shoulder.

“Want to talk about it?” Finn said quietly.

Leo raised a shoulder. “Just hard sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love it here. Gryffindor, the Lions, living with you. I don’t know what I would be doing right now if I was just in some hotel room by myself.”

Finn laughed. “Yeah, that’s not a fun part of this. I’m glad I could help you skip that. I…” Finn shrugged. “I don’t know what I’d be doing all alone, either.”

Leo was silent, brows scrunched like he was thinking about something, trying to figure something out. Finn watched carefully, using the view of the city as an excuse. Through the reflecting lights, he noticed the fine strands of grayish hair that mingled with the blond, right at the front of Leo’s forehead again.

“You hit your head?” Finn asked before he could stop himself.

Leo looked at him. “What?”

“Here,” Finn reached up and brushed his fingers over the hair near one temple. It was soft, like he had thought it would be.

“Oh,” Leo nodded minutely. “I fell on our boat when I was five. It was pretty bad.”

“You have a boat?” Finn said. He was close enough to feel Leo’s soft breathing now. He hadn’t known when they had moved, or who had moved first, but Leo’s eyes were flicking between Finn’s eyes and his mouth, drawing Finn’s to do the same.

“Yeah,” Leo whispered.

Finn’s mouth felt dry. “Can I come on your boat?”

“Yeah,” Leo smiled a little, but his eyes were serious, curious. “Finn…”

“Yeah?” Finn whispered back.

He watched Leo swallow, wetting his lips as he chose his words. “Are,” he began. “Are you going to kiss me?”

Even as he said it, Leo ducked down a little, like he couldn’t help it, and their lips brushed. It sent a strange mixture of emotions through Finn. Guilt and want turned into confusion, which was pushed away by Leo’s blue, comforting eyes, reflecting brightly in the dark.

“Can I?” Finn asked, and even then, Leo’s hand was curling around the back of his neck.

“Yes,” Leo managed to breathe out before their mouths were pressing together, Finn’s heart leaping. Leo kissed soundly, like each one of his movements had a purpose.

Finn couldn’t help but think of Logan, who kissed with a burning fever. The two mingled together in his brain for a moment, but the more Leo kissed him, the more he felt a calm wash over him. It was nothing like he’d ever felt before, and it was something Finn only associated with Leo. If Logan was a hurricane, keeping him close, Leo was a steadily rocking boat, lulling him and pulling him like a tide.

Finn craved—both.

Fuck.

How does a hurricane meet a tide, and what did that make him?

Finn made a noise when Leo’s other hand pressed around his back, making Leo gasp in return. Finn pressed his free hand to Leo’s chilly cheek, and licked into his mouth, letting himself be pressed against the railing by Leo’s lean body. He could smell the chocolate rising with the steam from their cups, and he didn’t think he’d ever smell that scent the same way again. Chocolate, once meaning snow and skating, meant Leo now. The same way that rum and sugarcane meant Logan.

“Finn—” Leo gasped. “Finn.”

“Is this a lot?” Even as he said it, they pressed together for a last kiss. “Sorry, fuck.”

“No, no, this is amazing,” Leo laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Fuck me, I’m kissing Finn O’Hara, but…”

Finn’s stomach flipped. “But?”

“Logan,” Leo said simply.

Finn’s eyes widened. “You like Logan?”

Leo raised an eyebrow, confused. “You like Logan.”

“Oh.”

Leo blinked at him. “Right?”

“I…It’s more—it’s…more complicated than that. Hang on, how the fuck?”

“What?”

“How the fuck did you know?”

“You…I don’t know I just,” Leo shrugged, setting his drink on the railing. “Maybe it’s because I’m gay, too, I see the way you look at each other.”

“I’m not gay,” Finn said.

Leo looked at his mouth, still red from making out.

“No, no,” Finn laughed. “I mean like—you’re hot, but June’s hot. Kasey’s hot, and Natalie’s hot…everyone’s really hot.”

Leo’s eyes widened. “June.”

“No, no, no,” Finn shook his head. “That’s different.”

“What?”

Finn groaned, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He set his drink beside Leo’s, turning to face the city for a moment, and then looked at Leo again. “June’s not my girlfriend.”

Leo shook his head slowly. “Um. Okay, we’ll come back to that later but, you might want to let some people know that. Like Logan. Like—”

Leo swallowed. Like me. He couldn’t help but feel like a weight had been lifted and placed on his chest at the same time. Finn kissed him. Finn wanted him? He didn’t know.

“I know, that’s why I’m stupid.”

Leo took a step back, out of Finn’s reach. “Why did you kiss me?”

Finn’s cheeks flushed in the darkness. “It’s—complicated.”

Leo stared at Finn, his blue eyes confused and a little guarded now that they were talking rather than kissing.

“This is a lot of information,” Leo said slowly, and Finn nearly whined.

He clutched at his chest. “Yeah, well it’s a hell of a lot of feelings, too.” He paused, staring at Leo. “I don’t know what’s going on. My brain’s a lot. So is my—” Finn blinked, and suddenly his eyes were shining, voice cracking. “So is my heart. Leo, I—”

Leo looked at Finn. Finn reached out, and then moved to pulled his hands back to his chest.

But Leo caught them. “Just talk to me, Harzy.”

Finn’s hands squeezed his own, a surprised little pulse. “Logan never wants to talk about it.”

Leo’s heart pounded as he held Finn’s hands in his own. “If he’s scared…of course he doesn’t.”

Finn nodded and then looked down, eyes searching. “In…in college, we sort of…yeah.”

“Are either of you out to anyone?”

“I’m not,” Finn sighed. “Well, you two. I don’t think Logan is either.”

“You don’t know?”

“Like I said,” Finn said. “We don’t talk about this stuff.”

Leo nodded slowly. “Well…yeah, then all he’s got is the scary stuff, right? Coming out? Scary. Talking about it from one NHL player to another? Scary as fuck.”

“But you can talk about it.”

Leo smiled, small and endearing. “My family knows.”

Finn stared up at him. “How did you know they’d…”

“I didn’t,” Leo shook his head. “Even when they had the best fucking reaction in the world I still didn’t believe it. But they proved it to me, you know?” Leo glanced at his bracelet, and Finn’s eyes followed. “And suddenly it didn’t matter so much that I would have to hide going into the League. I felt like I could make it happen one day, coming out, even if it isn’t while I’m an eighteen year old rookie,” Leo’s eyes were serious and he squeezed Finn’s hands. “My point is…the people who will be horrible…they’re one sort of demon when you’re alone. It’s a different story when you know, like, sure fucking fact know, that people love you.”

“Lo…” Finn nodded slowly. “Lo doesn’t know?”

Leo shook his head. “Harzy…you don’t know, either.”

“Me?” Finn said. “I—I mean, I…” Finn cleared his throat. “I want to talk about it.”

“And you haven’t been able to,” Leo took a step closer, hand on Finn’s shoulder. “And—you know, I understand if…if you’re just frustrated with Logan and…” Leo took a breath, heart squeezing painfully. “Yeah, like, Harzy, I’m always here to talk to.”

Leo could be an outlet for Finn. He could do that.

Finn looked down at Leo’s hands cradling his. “Logan and I, there are years there. We’ve been skating around each other for…God. Knutty,” Finn looked up at him. “I’ve been in love with Logan for seven fucking years. I thought something was wrong with me when I started…” Finn just looked at Leo, eyes pleading, as if needing him to understand something.

Leo nodded silently, aching. That was history. That was history that had bones, history that had gears that ran one way and one way only. Finn’s it’s complicated kiss to Leo was nothing more than Finn being fed up. Leo didn’t blame him. Everyone needed someone.

“Right,” Leo managed. “Have you told him that? That you love him?”

Finn shook his head. “Not—Fuck, only barely and when we were fighting about it.”

“You need to tell people you want them, Harz, if you want to be with them.”

Finn chewed on his bottom lip. “Yeah, I do. Yeah. You’re right.”

Leo wanted to pull away then. This was exactly what he had always been afraid of, only worse. He didn’t just like a teammate, he liked two teammates who liked each other. Not him.

“Well, maybe while we’re in Florida or something, huh?” Leo tried to laugh and stepped back. He wanted to go inside. He wanted to close the door of his room. He could make an excuse, that he had to pack for the roadie to Florida tomorrow. Maybe cry for a little and then go to sleep. Maybe call his mom, just let it out.

He sighed, thinking about that call. Hi mama, yeah, remember my home and roadie roommates? Well, I really like them. They love each other. I did exactly what I said I wouldn’t do. Doubled. Isn’t that fantastic?

“It’s cold,” Leo rasped out, ducking away from Finn. “We should go inside.”

“Leo—”

“I’ll take our cups in,” Leo snatched the mugs from the railing, before disappearing through the sliding glass door.

Leo dumped them in the skin, hearing Finn walk carefully into the house behind him and close the door. He watched what was left of the dark chocolate seep down the drain for a moment, and then turned around. Finn was staring at him with a funny expression on his face. Leo, with the tears threatening in his throat, couldn’t stick around to figure it out.

“Night, Harz,” he said, and turned away. “Thanks for the stars.”

Leo’s bedroom felt chilly as he closed the door. He sat on his bed and pressed his elbows to his knees.

He had wanted to help his friend. That’s all this had to be. He let out a long breath, cheeks blowing out as his eyes burned. Blinking hurriedly, he picked up his phone. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and found his mom’s contact. He could be quiet. Finn wouldn’t listen, Finn wasn’t nosey like that—

There was a knock on his door and Leo froze, thumb still hovering over the call button, tears in his eyes. He felt seconds away from breaking down, and even the thought of speaking right now made him choke up with tears.

“Um,” his voice wavered and he let out a shaking breath. Fuck. “Just a sec.”

“Nut?” Finn’s voice came through the door.

“Yeah, hold on,” Leo wiped his face with the hem of his sweatshirt and sniffed. He looked at the mirror on his way to the door, but what was he suppose to do about his red eyes? He turned off his overhead light and flicked on his dimmer bedside one instead. He opened the door.

“Hi,” Leo said, and cleared his throat.

Finn walked right in and sat on the edge of his bed. He looked possibly more freaked out than he had before.

“Can you—sit?” Finn asked, looking at him carefully.

Leo wiped a hand over his nose in a way that he hoped wasn’t obvious and sat beside Finn, trying to ignore the way his heart pulled towards him.

“What’s up,” Leo said softly.

Finn didn’t speak for a few moments. He was rubbing his hands against the thighs of his sweatpants, and chewing on his lower lip.

“You said—” he began, and then laced his fingers, looking down at them. “I should tell the person I like, that I like them…”

Leo nodded. He tried to focus on anything but the heat radiating off of Finn through his sweatshirt.

“What if…” Leo heard Finn swallow before continuing. “What if it’s…persons. What if I like…persons?”

A sort of chill ran through Leo’s body, goosebumps raising on his neck. He could have shivered, if not for Finn.

Finn turned towards him. “Knutty.”

Leo didn’t look. He couldn’t look. He kept his eyes on the ground, eyebrows drawing together in attempt to fight off his suddenly growing hopes.

“Leo,” Finn said again, and then his hand was on Leo’s cheek, turning his face towards him. “Leo, do you understand?”

Leo looked at him, barely daring to breathe.

“Is that even allowed?” Finn sucked in a breath. “Is that horrible of me?”

Leo felt shaky. “Me?” he whispered.

Finn nodded hurriedly, hand moving to the back of Leo’s neck. “You.”

“Me and Logan?”

“Yes,” Finn whispered again, and then his hands dropped away. “God, that’s so…fuck, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, what the fuck do I expect you to do with that?”

“Yes,” Leo said. The word felt like it tore from his lungs, and Finn looked up. They stared at each other.

“What?” Finn said.

“I—yes.”

“You mean…Logan? You like Logan?”

Leo couldn’t help but laugh at the question, even if it was choked off. He pressed his thumb and forefinger to his eyes briefly before nodding. He thought of Logan, asleep in the bed beside his on the road, permanent crease between his brows. He thought of his bright smile, rare lately, and the way he leaned into Leo, fitting into his body so easily on nights out when he’d had too much to drink. He thought of that strange, almost kiss, not three nights ago. He thought of watching Logan and Finn, sometimes from afar, sometimes from just across the table. He thought of the confusion that came with being pulled in two directions at the exact same time.

“Yes,” he said. “Fuck, I thought I was just…I felt so stupid. I told myself I wouldn’t get attached to any teammates ever. It would just be too hard. I knew it was hard, I’ve done it, and I never wanted to feel like that again.”

“Nut…” Finn said softly.

“But then you and Logan just show up and…Jesus, Harzy,” Leo shook his head. “What am I suppose to do?”

Finn’s eyes were wide, and then he let out a laugh. “What? Knutty, are you fucking kidding me?”

Leo laughed, too, shaking his head, tears back in his eyes.

“Oh my god, Nut,” Finn breathed, and then he had Leo’s face between his hands. “Oh my god…”

Finn’s kiss was bruising, and Leo held on tight for it, feeling every inch of tension uncoil from his shoulders.

FinnFinnFinnFinnFinn—

And Logan. Logan, hurting and not with them. Leo wanted him there.

“What if he says no?” Finn said suddenly. “Lo always said—he always said he never wanted to hide.”

Finn’s nervousness made Leo jumpy all over again. Now that they’d said it aloud, he ached for them. Both of them.

“You’ve seen him lately,” Finn said. “One second it’s like it has always been and the next…he can’t even look at me.”

“June,” Leo reminded Finn with a raised eyebrow, and Finn groaned, forehead against Leo’s shoulder.

“Fuck me,” Finn sighed. “How do I even begin to explain it to him, he’s going to murder me. In French.”

Leo laughed softly, and then, realizing that he could, wrapped an arm around Finn and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead. Finn practically melted into it, and so Leo did it again, this time against his temple, then again on his cheek. Finn made a little noise that Leo swore was going to turn his heart inside out. He laughed as Finn all but burrowed against his chest, basically forcing himself into Leo’s lap. Leo pet a hand through his hair, Finn’s head resting in the crook of one of his elbows, the rest of him splayed the wrong way on the bed, feet by Leo’s pillows.

“Sweetheart,” Leo whispered before he realized, but he’d do it again to see the way Finn practically swooned. Finn reached a hand up, tracing Leo’s jaw lightly.

“I see the way he looks at you,” Finn said softly, fingers brushing Leo’s mouth. “Broke my fucking heart for a while. At least until—until I started looking at you that way, too. Fuck me, I didn’t understand it at all. Who does this? Who wants two people at once?”

Leo raised a shoulder. “We do. Who cares about the rest?”

Finn stared up at him. “We—we can do this? We can be together.”

Leo nodded, smiling. “We can.”

“I just—We need to talk to him.”

“I think you should talk first,” Leo said, leaning into Finn’s touch. “Like you said. You two have a lot of history. That means a lot of conversation. And…that first part doesn’t really involve me.”

Finn chewed on the inside of his cheek. “He could still say no.”

“Well…I know he loves you, and…and I also know he very nearly kissed me the other night.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “Oh, man. Logan is a specialist in almost kissing. Fuck.”

Leo laughed and ducked for a kiss of his own. “I thought it was just you two taking your frustration out on someone else. But…maybe not.”

“Maybe not? Nut, come on.”

“You gotta explain that you don’t have a girlfriend—I’d also like an explanation by the way, like, I really like June, but she also sort of stomped on my heart and dick.”

A sly smile curled at one corner of Finn’s mouth. “Dick, huh?”

Leo looked away, grinning. “You sure are sweet, Harzy. Doesn’t help that I get to see you swinging around the locker room every day while you strut around naked.”

Finn sat up a little, hand curling around the back of Leo’s neck. “Oh yeah? Says the guy with the mile long fucking legs. Nut. Come on. How am I suppose to think away a hard-on while staring at those things?”

Leo snorted. “I thought I was an octopus.”

“You are,” Finn whispered, and then pulled Leo down and kissed him, then laughed into his mouth, letting his head fall back against Leo’s thighs and staring up at him. “Well, this is not what I expected when I brought you hot chocolate.”

“What, you don’t ask someone out every time you bring them a Starbucks or something?”

“Knowing me, you’d think I might,” Finn reached for Leo’s hand, holding it against his chest. “But no, that’s just you.”

“And Logan,” Leo smiled as Finn did. “Maybe you should bring him a coffee, or something.”

“You mean a sickly sweet—whatever he drinks. It’s not fucking coffee, that’s all I know.”

Leo pushed his hand through Finn’s dark red hair. “Harz, I hope this…I really want this.”

Finn closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into Leo’s touch, before he was sitting up suddenly. Leo laughed as Finn pushed him back against the bed, thighs on either side of Leo’s hips. Finn kissed him, hands on his chest, and Leo sunk into it.

“Me too,” Finn mumbled against his mouth. He trailed his mouth down to Leo’s jaw, lips soft. “Imagine if he was here.”

Leo couldn’t help the sigh, breathy and needy, that escaped as he fisted the back of Finn’s sweatshirt.

Finn pressed his hand to the other side of Leo’s neck, rubbing his thumb over the tendon softly. “There’s more of you to be kissed, huh?”

The thought of both Finn and Logan, kissing him, touching him—

He felt Finn laugh into his mouth as he pressed their hips together against Leo’s stiffening cock. “Hi, there.”

Leo groaned. “It’s been like— forever, okay? Forever. Once the NHL was interested I didn’t wanna risk—” Finn pushed down against him then, making Leo’s mouth drop open. “And you’re Finn O’Hara and you’re kissing my neck…”

Finn sucked gently on Leo’s throat. “Maybe we should end that forever.”

Leo let out a laugh that was half moan. Leo could feel Finn getting hard, too, and he was suddenly dizzy with him.

“Aw, Knutty,” Finn sounded a little breathless. “I like you turned on. That’s something I haven’t seen before.”

Leo’s cheeks were hot. “Yeah?”

Finn’s smile was soft. “Hey, kiss me again.”

Leo leaned up and tugged gently on Finn’s bottom lip with his teeth, watching his eyes widen with their noses brushing.

“Leo,” Finn’s voice was high with surprise and pleased sounding, muffled by Leo’s mouth.

Leo kissed him once, then rested his head back on the bed. “I…do you…” he glanced down at their hips where he could see the outlines of their cocks against their sweatpants.

Finn, poised on top of Leo, swallowed. “I’ve never…I mean, twice with Lo, but it was always—you know. Hands only. Kissing. Either we didn’t talk about it, or…I left for Gryffindor after the second time. It was,” Finn looked down at his hands, pressing a little on Leo’s chest. “I don’t know, we never even really took our clothes off and we were both sort of crying…”

Leo pressed up onto his elbows. “Finn…”

“I want to,” Finn said, looking at Leo with a small smile. “I want us to show him that it doesn’t have to be rushed and—silent.” Finn licked his lips, holding the one that had been between Leo’s teeth in his mouth for a moment, and then leaned forward, pushing Leo back down again and planting his hands on either side of his head. “Show me.”

A shiver went up Leo’s spine. He nodded, running his hands up and under Finn’s sweatshirt, palms smooth over the warm skin of his back.

“I am sort of half off the bed here,” Leo smiled.

“Huh?” Finn glanced behind him, at Leo’s legs still over the bed from when they had been sitting side by side. “Oh shit.”

Finn snorted as he scrambled up, landing with his back against Leo’s pillows. Leo stood, and looked. Finn’s mouth was kissed red, his hair was a mess. He would have looked sweet, if not for the fact that Leo could see his cock, tenting his sweatpants obscenely between his splayed thighs.

“Fuck, Harzy,” Leo said, rubbing a hand through his hair, pressing it over his hot neck.

“Can I…” Finn plucked at his sweatshirt.

“Let me,” Leo said, kneeling on the bed and walking himself slowly over and between Finn’s thighs. He sat back on his heels, coaxing Finn into a sitting position to. He leaned in and kissed him slowly.

“We have all night,” Leo reminded him softly, and then pulled away to lift Finn’s sweatshirt above his head. He had a gray Lions t-shirt underneath, and Leo bent to kiss what skin of Finn’s neck the sweatshirt had revealed, just above his collar, before pulling the t-shirt over his head, too.

Finn made a questioning noise, his hands on the hem of Leo’s sweatshirt.

“Yeah,” Leo said.

Finn pulled his lip between his teeth again. Leo’s t-shirt came with his sweatshirt, getting stuck for a moment and making them laugh, before they were both staring at each other, bare chested.

“You’re too tall like this,” Finn smiled, hands finding Leo’s bare waist and tugging. “Come closer.”

Leo eased Finn back against the pillows, balancing himself over him. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the center of Finn’s chest, letting his lips drag, and pressing another one over his sternum. He glanced up. “Better?”

Finn nodded hurriedly, hand going to Leo’s hair. “Better.”

Leo kissed his way down Finn’s chest, feeling it rise and fall quicker as he went. He kissed the strong flex of his abs, the light dips between his ribs, and finally, his hips, just above the band of his sweatpants. Leo looked back up at Finn and raised his eyebrow.

“Yes, I’m, oh fuck,” Finn was flushed down to his chest. “I might come in like—point two seconds, okay?”

“Be my guest,” Leo said, and began to tug Finn’s sweatpants down—no underwear. “Fuck, Harz.”

“I was being relaxed.”

Finn’s cock bobbed free, the head swollen and leaking. The sight made Leo’s throb. He let out a breath, and so did Finn.

Leo reached out and smoothed his hand around the base, watching Finn’s hips stutter at the almost contact. Finally, Leo wrapped his hand around him, and gave a single, dry, pull.

Finn groaned softly from the head of the bed. “Fuck, baby.”

Leo’s eyes snapped to him, but Finn didn’t look surprised or embarrassed. His mouth was dropped open and he held out his arms. Leo went willingly, surging up to kiss him hard while Finn yanked at Leo’s sweatpants and underwear, shoving it down his legs far enough to kick them off.

Then, it was just them. Their cocks pressed together and Finn’s eyes practically rolled. Leo bent to suck a bruise into the tender skin below his ear as he rutted down against Finn, spurred on by the feeling of Finn’s blunt nails digging against his back.

“Yes,” Finn’s voice punched out of him and Leo felt his heels on the back of his thighs.

“What do you want?” Leo asked, breathless. He pulled back some and kissed Finn. “We can do whatever you want.”

“This,” Finn said against Leo’s cheek, mouth falling open again and hand tightening in his hair. “I want this.”

“C’mere,” Leo said, and pulled at Finn’s hip.

“What, you’re tired?” Even turned on as all hell, Finn managed to joke.

Leo only got them onto their sides, legs tangled, before Finn was pressing them together again and moaning. It was all Leo could do to think clearly.

“You said to show you,” Leo panted. “I’m showing you that we have all night. That we can do whatever we want, that you have me—”

Finn pressed against him, cocks wet together, with a gasp.

“I’m going to come,” Finn whispered, voice shaking as he gripped Leo’s ass to press them together harder. It Leo groan as his hand slipped close to his entrance. Finn blinked at him, eyes dazed and bright.

“You—do you like—”

Leo nodded.

“Jesus.”

Leo pressed a lingering kiss to Finn’s mouth. “Would you do that for me, Harzy?”

Finn’s hips stuttered, eyes squeezing shut and he came between them with a cry, stripping Leo’s chest thickly.

The sight, Finn’s sloppy kiss, and his hand brushing over his crease, had Leo following. Leo reached between them and closed a hand around them both, working them through their orgasms. He swore Finn’s nails would leave marks tomorrow. He felt Finn’s hand press against his lower back, and had a sudden thought of a broader heat there—Logan. Logan’s deep voice in his ear, pressed all along his back, maybe even slipping inside of him—

Leo’s hips twitched as his cock valiantly spurt out nothing, pleasure wracking him all the same.

Finn was breathing hard, eyes closed and head fallen back against Leo’s arm on the pillows. Leo smoothed a hand up his chest, uncaring of the mess, and leaned over him, limbs heavy, to kiss his bared throat.

This was what Finn never had. This is what he and Logan never thought they could have. The very best part. Being together, sated and loving and close. Leo caressed his hip, and his strong shoulder, lips gentle all the while. He did it until Finn’s breathing slowly began to even out, until a tear appeared at the corner of his eye, and trailed slowly down his temple.

Leo kissed that, too.

“‘M—” Finn began, and his voice cracked. “Just relieved,” he rasped out. “Just, so…” he let out a breath, and opened his eyes, glassy and golden brown. “Leo.”

“I know,” Leo said, nodding quickly. “Believe me, I know.”

“I loved that,” A sleepy, almost loopy smile crossed Finn’s face and he laughed, another tear appearing. “Fucking Christ.”

Leo laughed, nudging his forehead into the warm space of Finn’s neck and closing his eyes. “Me too.”

He felt Finn’s arms wrap around him, squeezing tightly like Leo saw him sometimes do to other players during a celly on the ice.

“Can we snuggle?” Finn asked sleepily.

“We better,” Leo kicked the blankets out from beneath them, Finn reached for his sweatshirt, mopping their chests before throwing it away into the room. They stayed like that, Finn on his back, Leo nestled against him, ankles tangled.

When they woke up the next morning, Leo was still in Finn’s arms, his back to Finn’s chest, and Finn was kissing his neck.

“Two things on the to do list,” Finn whispered against his skin once Leo had hummed happily and pressed against him. “Get you some stars…”

Leo laughed and Finn’s arms tightened around him.

“And knock some sense into Tremzy.”

Leo smiled, looking at the empty space in front of him. They were leaving for Florida today. Leo could wait to see Finn and Logan in the sunlight.

#coast to coast #sweater weather #sweater weather spin off #lumosinlove #lumosinlove ocs #lumosinlove oc #Logan tremblay #Leo knut #finn o'hara #O'Knutzy #finn x logan x leo

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hello-yue-here · 3 years

Note

About your atla ship songs, I have a couple of questions (sorry if my phrasing comes out wrong, english isn't my first language and I worry it might across as accidentally defensive): how did you end up with the choices for zukka, jetko and yuekka (note: I haven't seen the great comet, so feel free to obsess over it, I'm intrigued now and the hype is appreciated!)? Sidenote: I think the mailee choice is HILARIOUS and the tokka one just make me sad, I didn't expect to be attacked like this😭

kdjfha;s i love you im gonna obsess SO HARD over great comet now. you may regret this

this is gonna be so long so the rest is under the cut whoops

yuekka: no one else from great comet

where do i even begin. WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN

okay so background information on this show: it's based off of a 76 oages excerpt from war and peace and its centered around a woman named natasha (and this guy pierre but he's irrelevant to this song so we wont worry about him) and natasha's bethrothed is off fighting in the war right now. she hasn't seen him in a while but she is in love with him.

every single lyrics of this song SCREAMS yuekka to me. the innocence and purity of their love. the love at first sight. and even the melancholy ending just- i go apeshit for this song. i love this song so much. and denee benton's voice??? kljsdhflwksugf please listen to this song if you haven't already. listen to the whole show. your life will be changed forever.

onto the lyrics (i stg this is ab to be the whole song whoops)

"the moon"

THOSE ARE THE FIRST WORDS ON THE SONG. natasha and andre (her bethrothed) met underneath the moonlight. Sokka and Yue first spoke to eachother at night and always met each other for their most intimate moments under the moonlight. also yue is LITERALLY the moon so like: right of the bat with those two words it's yuekka.

"and i saw your eyes / and i saw your smile / and the world opened wide"

sokka fell in love with yue the moment he saw her in the canal. she literally enchanted this motherfucker. everything about her made his heart go crazy. and 'the world opened wide' to me is from yue's perspective. Yue had never left the north pole and sokka had seen a good chuck of the world at the point. He took her on appa, he told her about his adventures. he saw the world yue wished to see and you know damn well that Sokka would have done anything to give it to her.

"oh the moon /oh the snow in the moonlight / and your childlike eyes and your distant smile / ill never be this happy again / you and i and no one else"

natasha sings fondly about the moon and the snow, seeing as it was where she fell in love with andre. yue and sokka LITERALLY fell in love in the same place: in the snowy nothern water tribe under the light of the moon. childlike eyes: THEYRE CHILDREN!!! distant smile: this is where it gets a little sad. theyre both children with way too many duties during a world that has known nothing but war for the past century. they want to be happy but yeah, theyre smiles are distant and far away because happiness seems out of reach for them most of the time. i'll never be this happy again: the moments yue and sokka shared together were probably the happiest either of them ever were. they were able to ignore the war and the world in the moments they shared together. and with no one else. no one else would be able to give each other this sense of peace and happiness and love.

"joy and life inside our souls / and no body knows just you and me / it's our secret"

Yue and Sokka had to sneak out in secret at night to go and see each other. Yue and Sokka couldn't be together for real because Yue was already engaged, but they were literally in love so she decided to see him anyways in secret. kasdjfhklasjd im losing my mind over them at this point.

"this winer sky / how can anyone sleep / there was never such a night before / i feel like putting my arms around my knees / and squeezing tight as possible / and flying away"

these are my FAVORITE lines in the entire song. yue and sokka had never felt this strongly about anyone before and that's why they are so drawn to each other. they had never experienced love before and they wanted to hold onto it for as long as they could even though they knew they couldnt. Sokka takes yue up on appa and she is wistful and wishes she could live like he does every day: ie flying away. oh my god these two deserved so much better. so much fucking better.

now for the saddes part. the saddest fucking part.

"maybe he'll come today / maybe he came already / and he's sitting in the drawing room / and i simply forgot"

natasha misses andre so intensely at this point. when i first listened to this show and heard this song i was like "wait a min... is andre like... dead?" and im sure i wasnt the only person who assumed that this was why natasha felt so sad by the end of such a beautiful song. (spoiler alert andre is fine)

but this line really exemplifies how sad natasha is, and hints at the fact that andre may never come back. it implies that their relationship is doomed (at least in my opinion) and that's all yuekka. Sokka misses yue intensely when shes gone. Yue accepted her fate almost immediately but sokka was in denial. he thought there had to be another way. but in the end it wasn't meant to be. and sokka will go on, loving yue, wishing for her back, even though it's not possible.

fuck im gonna cry.

zukka: all i've ever known- hadestown

"i was alone so long / i didn't even know that i was lonely / out in the cold so long / i didnt even know that i was cold"

sokka is from the swt so theres where the cold comes in. also in the gaang (initially) it was just him katara and aang. and katara and aang were much closer to each other than sokka was with aang and the two of them were benders so sokka was kind of an outsider with the two of them. He also represses a lot of his emotions and feels the need to do everything himself so i do see a lot of loneliness in sokka. and the fact that so many people in his life have left him (his mom, yue, his dad, suki briefly, etc...) he is known to keep people at an arms length. i see a lot of loneliness in sokka.

zuko's loneliness is a lot more obvious: he has literally been cast out and abandoned by everyone except iroh. and even then he still feels the need to be alone (remember zuko alone? thought so) these boys look after themselves and push others away and revel in their loneliness in order to keep themselves from getting hurt. at least in my opinion on canon and also some fanon because id be a liar if i said fanon didnt influence how i view ALL my ships (not just zukka)

"all ive ever known is how to hold my own / but now I wanna hold you too"

COME ONE MANNNN, they just wanna hold each other. theyre both very big protectors as well and kljhflkasdhg they wanna protect eachother like kljdhfl im gonna lose it rn.

"You take me in your arms / And suddenly there's sunlight all around me / Everything bright and warm / And shining like it never did before / And for a moment I forget / Just how dark and cold it gets"

SUNLIGHT SYMBOLISM. zuko is literally powered by the sun. i don't think i even NEED to elaborate on this one anymore lol. They find comfort in each other away from all of their trauma. when they're together nothing else matters and i personally love that for them. they both deserve love.

"I knew you before we met / And I don't even know you yet / All I know is your someone I have always known"

these two are extremely similar in canon. many parallels. older brothers overshadowed by their prodigy little sisters. longing to make their fathers proud (granted one dad is good and one is fuckin evil), both are pretty bad with emotions. both are seen protecting others before themselves (sokka protecting suki during the serpant's pass, sokka protecting toph on like multiple occassions, zuko protecting katara in the final agni kai), the list goes on. they know who the other is because they see themselves in the other person. they already know each other because they are each other (in a way, not entirely, but the similarities are strong in my opinion)

"I'm gonna hold you forever / The wind will never change on us / Long as we stay with each other / Then it will always be like this"

i just think this line is so cute and sweet (ignoring all the symbolism and foreshadowing that comes with the last line in the musical itself. im gonna pretend this is nothing but happy) and i think these boys deserve happiness so yeah. this song is zukka to me lol.

jetko: thrill of first love- falsettoes

if you've never listened to this song go an do it now. you will know INSTANTLY that it is jetko because of the dynamics alone. marvin and whizzer are pure jetko and i take no crticisms.

marvin and whizzer are both extremely stubborn, and they don't always get along, and they fight a lot, and they get mad at each other a lot, and they are both passionate as hell, and they will bring this passion into everything. they love each other that is without a doubt, but they arent perfect and they are once again stubborn and determined as fuck.

sound familiar? it's literally jetko.

the lyrics aren't what remind me of jetko, but the dynamic itself. the lyrics are too on the nose for a gay couple in 1970's america so that rlly cant apply to jetko all that much. but the way these two characters bounce off of each other and get annoyed with each other and argue with eachother reminds me of jetko. because let's be honest: these two are the most stubborn characters in the whole show. they will fight for what they believe and it will take literally everything to change their minds.

i love jetko but i think they would have petty arguments all the time and get aggravated by one another so easily. and this is even seen in canon: they work so fucking well together but they did not even HESITATE to fight one another after neither of them would give in and let the fight about whether jet was right or wrong about zuko being a firebender. like i cannot say it enough they are stubborn as fuck.

but underneath all that stubborn pettiness and bickering: marvin and whizzer still love each other. and jet and zuko would still love each other. because even though they are stubborn when it comes to arguments, they are even more stubborn and determined when it comes to each other. these two passionate motherfuckers are in love.

(now when i chose this song i decided to ignore the fact that this song literally spells out the fact that marvin and whizzer's relatinoship is doomed because they literally say passion dies. thats the difference between jetko and whizzer and marvin because i dont think passion dies. i chose this song strictly for the bickering lmao)

and i know you didnt ask about tokka but,,,,

i rlly wanna talk about the tokka one

so im going to

tokka: on my own- les mis

look. i KNOW this song is about unrequited love and i love tokka as a couple but,,, the unrequited love in this song just SCREAMS unrequited tokka to me so thats what i went with.

eponine is a girl who has neglectful parents who lives life by her own rules: toph. eponine is shown to be tough and confident and spunky to others but behind all of that she has emotions, she feels love, she hides her vulnerability so much: toph. she is in love with a guy she cant be with because he loves someone else: TOPH

eponine is toph to a t and toph is eponine to a t. this is not up for debate lmao

"without him i feel his arms around me"

toph is always seen grabbing onto someone (and its almost ALWAYS sokka) when she's somewhere where she can't use her feet to see. FEEL and ARMS cmon. look at it.

"and i know / i know that he is blind"

COME ON. IMAGINE TOPH SINGING THIS LINE. this line is already powerful enough in les mis but having toph, a blind character, sing it just makes the symbolism even deeper. toph sees the potential relationship they could have together. toph sees that sokka is oblivious to this. toph is not blind to the truth or the potention, but sokka is blind to her feelings. im about to lose my mind over this line.

"I love him / But every day I'm learning / All my life / I've only been pretending / Without me / His world will go on turning / A world that's full of happiness / That I have never known"

i need to sit down for a moment. toph grew up in a household where her parents did not understand her. she has learned to hide her true emotions and vulnerabilities from everyone. and its the fact that toph knows that she and sokka will never be together and the fact that she still loves him in spite of that is what makes this even more heartbreaking.

"but only on my own"

TOPH AND EPONINE SWEETIES I LOVE YOU

thank you for indulging my theatre kid nonsense. you are very sweet and kind and lovely and awesome and i hope you have a lovely day bestie :) <3

ask me why i think these songs go with these ships

#asks #liv is a theatre nerd #liv is an atla nerd #yuekka #zukka #jetko #tokka #ask me about my ship songs

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thefatedthoughtofyou · 3 years

Text

Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap) - Part 15

Summary: Sam inherits Steve Roger's crime empire after a handful of his men betray and kill him. The rest of the crime world, sensing an opening, go after Sam and the territories he's inherited from Steve. Thankfully, Steve left him a number, someone to call if he ever needs help. Someone, Steve claimed, he can trust. But can Sam really trust a mercenary with that much blood on his name? And that many knives in his pockets.

WARNINGS: (there will eventually be all of these things) blood, violence, murder, shooting, stabbing, sex, blood play , food related things: malnutrition, feeding, blow jobs, bathing/washing, chronic pain. Limb loss and regrowth. Bullet wounds. Gore.

18+ Content: Make Good Choices Kids <3

Ao3

He's waiting in bar again. Torres at his side. Helen and Maria by the door, guns drawn. Sam wasn't sure exactly what Bucky had meant by company, but he wanted to be ready. He'd woken everyone, and called a few people in. Everyone was dressed, looking slightly sleep ruffed, but alert. Sam's hand was beginning to sweat on the butt of his gun when he heard a shout down the hall, and then footsteps running toward the door. The man annouced himself before coming into the doorway.

"It's Barnes. And his...friend?" The man said, disappearing again. Sam sighed, shoving his gun back in its holster under his arm, and leaning against the bar. His elbows knocking against the wood there painfully. He heard Torres let out a breath next to him and glanced at him. Torres nodded, his gun still in his hand, but he was relaxed. Sam's eyes went to the door as he heard the front doors open and then slam closed, he heard them slide the security locks shut a second later.

Sam's heart was pounding as he listened to the sound of slow steps coming down the hall. It sounded like someone was dragging their foot as they walked, and there was a strange squeaking noise as well. He blinked slowly, trying to calm his breathing as he waited to see what fresh hell Barnes was bringing to him now.

He nearly chocked when saw the man cross the threshold, being wheeled in in a... was that a fucking wheelbarrow? Sam narrowed his eyes and noticed the man was missing a foot. His eyes moved over him, noting the uncomfortably small appendage growing out of his shoulder. Sam's stomach turned at the sight, he walked out from behind the bar, ready to confront Barnes about what exactly was happening, when his eyes fell on the man. Sam swallowed and stepped closer, Bucky was pale, more so than usual, and he was bleeding again, Sam could see blood dripping down his hand onto the floor. He'd stopped pushing the wheelbarrow and was swaying in place now, blinking slowly a few times before sqeezing his eyes shut and then blinking rapidly. Sam took another step closer.

"Wade, Sam. Sam, Wade." Bucky muttered, not moving, his voice flat. Sam nodded, his eyes moving to Wade briefly before going back to Bucky.

"Ho. Ly. Fuck nuts. Talk about a face you could sit on. Look at those fucking cheekbo- mmph!" Wade cut off as Bucky clamped his hand over his mouth, the eyes on his mask going wide. Sam watched Bucky look down slowly, Wade looked up at him. Bucky furrowed his brow and shook his head, once, Wade looked up at him for a long moment before nodding. Bucky removed his hand, quickly moving it back to the handle of wheelbarrow, he looked like he was barley able to keep himself on his feet. Sam took yet another step toward him. Bucky's eyes jumped to him, clearing suddenly, icy blues locking onto him.

"Lock everything down. I told the guys at the door already. But everyone else needs to check and double everything, the doors, the windows the-" he cut off, swaying again, blinking rapidly, shaking his head like he was trying to clear it.

"The panic room. You need to... to be there." His voice trailed off, his eyes drooping, as Sam watched him sway backwards and then straighten himself up again. Sam took one more slow step.

"You- you're not... safe. Fuck." He breathed out the curse as his knees buckled. Sam tried to catch him, taking two large steps and grabbing his shirt, slowing the fall at least. Sam grimaced when he heard Bucky's knees his the floor, hard.

"Shit. Bucky! Whoa!" Wade said, sounding worried, reaching out from where he was stuck, and then grabbing the sides of the wheelbarrow, not able to get to Bucky without toppling over.

"I got him." Sam assured him, moving his arms under Bucky's, and rolling him onto his back. Helen was at his side in seconds, Sam didn't even hear her rush over. He watched her check his pulse and sigh.

"He needs blood. Can you carry him?" She asked, looking up at Sam. He looked down at Bucky, the blood on his hand bright in contrast with his pale skin.

"I think so." He said. Helen nodded and helped Sam pull him off the floor. Sam grunted as he managed to get Bucky draped over his shoulder, he was a lot heavier than he looked. Sam began following her out the door.

"Hey don't just leave me here! Somebody carry me too!" Wade's voice said behind Sam.

"Torres, help him." Sam said, not looking back, he could feel blood hitting the back of his legs, Bucky's shoulder dripping on him, as he carried the man up the stairs.

Helen opened the door to one of the spare rooms and cleared the bed, tossing throw pillows onto the floor and helping Sam lay Bucky on it.

"You need to get to the panic room. I can take care of this." She said, looking at Sam with bright eyes.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Sam asked, doing his best not wipe his bloody hands on his thighs. She looked at Bucky, and sighed again.

"He'll be fine. He always is." She frowned and looked back to Sam.

"No go. Take Torres with you. Once he's done helping Wade." She patted his arm, and walked out of the room. Torres stumbled in a few moments later, Wade's good arm drapped over his shoulder as he hopped next to him.

"I can see you trying not to laugh you know!" Wade said, poking at Torres with a finger on his too small arm. Torres snorted and helped lower Wade into the chair in the corner of the room.

"Sorry." Torres said, stepping away from him.

Wade shrugged, looking up at him, giving him a thumbs up for the help.

"Eey, it's okay. It's pretty fucked up. Oh goddamn it!" Wade sighed, dropping his head back.

"What?" Sam and Torres asked, in unison, Wade looked at them, the white eyes on his mask going wide again.

"Well that was adorable. Um no, I.... left my foot downstairs." He sighed, moving his palms slowly over his thighs.

"If you could have someone just pop that in the freezer.... I will... deal with that later." Wade said, and Sam could hear the akward smile on his face.

"That's disgusting." Torres breathed, but Sam could see him almost smiling.

"Go...do that. And then meet me in the panic room." Sam said, Torres nodded and walked back out the door. Helen walked back in as he disappeared from view.

"Still here." She admonished, frowning at him before getting to work on Bucky, Sam watched her begin to cut his shirt off and moved his attention back to Wade.

"Do you need anything?" He asked. Sam watched Wade pat at himself dramatically, humming to himself, before looking at Sam with wide eyes.

"Nope! I'm good! You go. I'll stay and harass the doc as she works." Sam looked at Helen, saw her smile as she worked and looked back to Wade again.

"If you need anything just ask. I'll let them know to get it for you." Sam said, stepping toward the door, he paused, narrowing his eyes at Wade. He'd heard all sorts of... odd, things about him.

"Within reason." He says, pointing at Wade. Wade cocked his head to the side.

"Oh you're fun. I like you." He said, before nodding and shooing Sam away. Sam let his eyes fall to Bucky, his shirt and pants now gone, his socks and boots in a small pile on the floor, his arm and leg both covered in blood again. Helen was pushing a needle into his arm, the blood he desperately needed hanging from the headboard on a makeshift IV set up. Sam pulled his eyes away and walked out the door.

"Who's after you now?" Torres asked, closing the heavy door on the panic room with a grunt. It was a nice room, larger than most panic rooms, Sam would guess, he'd never been in one. There was a couch shoved into the corner, and a small refrigerator full of water in the one opposite. The wall across from the couch was covered in screens, one for each camera in the house. Sam leaned agaisnt the wall and rubbed at his eyes.

"I don't know. He didn't say." Sam sighed, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes hard before dropping them at his sides. He was so fucking tired. He just wanted to sleep. Maybe run away. Go somewhere no one would ever find him and just let the other families have what they fucking wanted. But he couldn't do that. He didn't want to do that. Not really. It was all just too much.

"He'll be okay right?" Torres asks, his voice quiet. Sam looks at him, he looks worried, his lip pulled between his teeth.

"Helen said he'd be fine." Sam reassured him. Torres nodded, his eyes moving to the wall of screens, Sam moved his eyes too, watching as his people moved through the house, locking it down.

"Feels weird. Being in here when they're all out there." Torres said.

"I don't like it either." Sam said, walking over to the couch and throwing himself onto it with a sigh.

"You should get some rest sir."

"Torres." Sam said, his tone a warning.

"Sorry. Sam. But you should. While you can." He said, Sam looked at him.

"Come sit down kid. You should rest too. The couch is plenty big enough." Sam said, laying his head back, letting his eyes fall closed as he felt Torres sit down at the other end.

"It is kind of a freakishly long couch isn't it?" Torres asked after a moment, Sam rolled his head to the side, seeing Torres moving his hand over the cushion next to him, wiggling in his seat to get comfortable. Sam snorted, and then full on laughed, his exhaustion catching up to him. Torres was quiet for a moment and then they were both laughing, Sam wiping at his face as his eyes watered. He heard Torres hiccup as they both calmed, and smiled as they settled into comfortable silence, watching the screens on the wall.

Sam couldn't take it. It had been almost eight hours. He'd slept off and on, but nothing substantial, always jerking awake when he was finally falling deeper. Torres had been sound asleep for almost an hour now. Sam watched him for a moment, his chest rising and falling slowly, and then pushed himself off the couch. He was careful not to wake the kid, stepping towards the door slowly. He punched in the code, pushed the door open slowly, just enough for him to slip out, and headed back up stairs.

He ran into Helen and Maria, both of them sitting outside the bar, Helen's head resting on Maria's shoulder.

"You're not-"

"Supposed to be out here. I know I know." Sam said, waving his hand and smiling at them. He stopped a few steps up the stairs and looked down at them.

"How is he?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even. His thoughts over the last eight hours had been full of blood and pale skin.

"He's okay. His heartrate's back to normal. And he's healing." Helen said, breathing deeply, Sam could see her fighting a yawn.

"Thank you." He said, nodding and moving up the stairs. He stays in the doorway, leans against the frame, doesn't go fulling into the room. Wade is slumped in the chair in the corner, both his arm and foot seem to have grown back, he says nothing as Sam stands there, so he assumes he's asleep. It's hard to tell with the mask, though it's been pulled up off his mouth, like he'd been talking to someone.

Bucky is on the bed, still unconscious. His flesh hand is resting on his stomach, drawing Sam's attention to just how skinny he is. There's muscle there, sure, but Sam can see his ribs more clearly than he should be able to. And his stomach, under his hand, is sunken in ever so slightly. Sam blinks, not looking away, and idly wonders how often he eats. Not enough, would be Sam's guess.

He moves his eyes, to Bucky's leg, the skin there is red, and Sam can see bruises clearly left by someone's fingers. He furrows his brow and sighs, moving his eyes up to Bucky's face, crossing his arms over his chest as he stares. He looks peaceful, not at all like the smartass Sam knows is lurking just beneath the surface. Sam's heart skips a beat when Bucky's brow furrows, he groans, his fingers pressing into his stomach as he moves and then settles again.

Sam takes a deep breath. His heart fluttering in chest as he finally looks away. He notices too late that the mouth under Wade's mask is smiling.

He nearly jerks to attention but schools himself and stays still, moving his eyes fully to Wade. He has his phone in his hand agaisnt his thigh, but he's smiling at Sam.

"Hey." Sam says awkwardly, not really sure what else to say. He knows he's been caught, but he's not going to admit it. Wade smiles and nods at him.

"Hey yourself." He says, tilting his head to the side.

"So you're a Wilson too huh?" Wade asks, looking at him. Sam isn't sure he likes the mask, he can't tell what this guy is thinking, or aiming for, he clears his throat and nods, deciding that's probably the point of the mask.

"Maybe he's collecting us." Wade says, joking, that much Sam can tell.

"What?" Sam asks, his fingers digging into his arm as he looks to Bucky, he's still asleep.

"Relax. I'm just fuckin with ya." Wade says, moving his eyes to his phone. He scratches at his chin and sighs. Sam watches him look at Bucky, sees his shoulders slump, and watches him stand.

"Listen, I gotta go. I have... something I gotta do. Just tell him it's about my F-word, he'll understand." Wade says, walking to the bed, he leans down and presses his lips to Bucky's forhead gently, soothing over the spot with his thumb afterwards, his fingers lingering in Bucky's hair. Sam's heart picks up in his chest, he knows he should look away, that it's not polite to watch an intimate moment, but his eyes don't move. He watches Bucky sigh, his lips moving into the smallest smile before he settles again. And then Wade is next to him, following his gaze to Bucky.

"Little bastard gets under your skin doesn't he?" Wade says, like he's sharing a secret. Sam snaps his head around to look at Wade, his skin feeling hot as the man looks, he thinks, at him.

"I don't know what you mean." Sam says, and he really wants to believe it. Wade laughs then, and steps through the door, patting Sam's shoulder as he goes.

"You will." He says, smiling at Sam one last time before pulling his mask down over his mouth. Sam watches him as he walks down the stairs. Watches him give a sarcastic salute to the men at the doors as they open them for him. And then he watches them lock them back up again, effectively trapping everyone inside. Sam sighs, rubs at his shoulder where Wade had touched him, and then turns back to Bucky. He's still sleeping. Still calm. And still slightly covered in blood.

He watches him sleep for another moment and then goes back down stairs. He sighs and walks back to the panic room. He glares at the door, hating it, and slides through. Torres is still alseep on the couch, small snores now echoing through the small room. Sam pulls the door shut, punches in the code, and smiles when Torres startles awake with flail.

He's in the kitchen, it's nearly midnight. He slowly places a thick slice of ham onto the sandwich he's crafting. He hears someone take a sharp breath in the hall outside and turns just in time to see Bucky slowly push the kitchen swinging door open. He pauses when he sees Sam, for the briefest moment, if Sam hadn't been looking at him he'd have missed it, and then makes his way to fridge. Sam watches him open it, grab a bottle of water, and close it again. He glances at Sam before shuffling over to the island, wiggling carefully onto one of the stools there.

Sam watches him take a long drink of water, his eyes moving away from Bucky's thoat and noticing the clothes he's wearing. He'd noticed the baggy sweat pants when he'd walked in, but now Sam's eyes were glued to the shirt that was much too big for him. Sam's shirt.

"Is that my shirt?" Sam asked, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt, and ending up sounding angery. Bucky widened his eyes and looked down at himself. He moved his eyes slowly back to Sam, and Sam still couldn't tell what he was thinking, and shrugged.

"Dunno. Helen brought it to me." He said, his voice quiet as he tugged at the front of the baggy shirt, looking down at it again. Sam nodded and didn't say anything else. He laid a slice of turkey over the ham on his bread, carefully arranging it. He could feel Bucky's eyes on him.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" He asks, knowing he sounds annoyed.

"Shouldn't you be in the panic room? Like I told you?" Bucky bites back, Sam snaps his head up to look at him and finds Bucky staring down at the bottle in his hands, the sleeves of Sam's shirt so long they cover his knuckles. Sam hums and says nothing.

"You're not a very good listener, are you Sam?" Bucky asks, Sam glances at him, sees Bucky smiling at his water bottle and ignores him. He peels two slices of cheese away from the little stack and places them just so.

"I'm just trying to keep you safe. It's not- it's not a punishment." Bucky says, stammering over his words a bit before sighing. Sam looks at him and sees his brow is furrowed, he still isn't looking at Sam, his thumb picking at the lable of the bottle in his hands.

"I've been in there all day. I just needed a break. And something to eat that isn't stale beef jerky." Sam says, sighing, not sure why he's explaining himself. Bucky looks at him then, the wrinkle in his brow fading a bit before he nods, once. Sam watches his eyes drop to his plate, and then watches him swallow and lick his lips before looking away again.

Sam frowns down at his sandwich as he places the top slice. His fingers itch, he flexes them at his side and then grabs the knife he'd used for the mayo. He places his palm on the sandwich and cuts it neatly down the middle. He leans back, grabs another plate from the cabinet behind him and places half the sandwich on it. He slides it across the island slowly, until it's sitting in front of Bucky. He almost laughs at the look on Bucky's face. His eyes wide and child like as he looks from the sandwich to Sam.

"Go on. You should eat something." Sam says, shoving his own sandwich into his mouth to take a bite. Hoping he wouldn't say anything stupid if his mouth was full of food.

He watches Bucky pick up his half slowly. He closes his eyes as he takes a large bite, Sam hears him hum as he sets the sandwhich down, wiping at his mouth with his hand as he chews, nodding, his eyes still closed. Sam smiles and quickly takes another bite. Bucky's sandwich is gone before Sam is done with half of his. He feels a pressure under his ribs and pushes it away as he watches Bucky hum and swallow his last bite.

"Thanks." He says, clearing his thoat and picking at the crumbs on his plate.

"Sure." Sam says, he feels awkward, doesn't know why.

"Is that bread from Jimmy's?" Bucky asks, breaking Sam out of his thoughts.

"Yeah. Maria brought it back when she went to check on him." Sam said, taking another small bite. Bucky nods and rests his cheek on his knuckles.

"Thought so. He makes the best fucking bread. Like, it just melts in your mouth, but it's still fluffy and dense." Sam watches Bucky shake his head, like Jimmy's bread is a marvel to him. And Sam agrees, his bread is the best, but he wasn't going to say that. Bucky looks at him and his brow furrows again, Sam swallows very carefully, taking care not to choke as Bucky's eyes bore into him.

"Is he okay? Why was Maria checking on him?" Bucky asks, and Sam will give him one thing, he does sound genuinely concerned.

"He's alright. Being threatened, like all the other businesses. We gave him some extra security. He's okay. For now." Sam explained, and then sighed, shoving the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth. He rubbed at his eyes, he could feel Bucky watching him. He hears him take a deep breath and let it out.

"Wade told me to tell you he had something to do for his F-word, said you know what that meant." Sam said, cutting off anything Bucky might have been about to say, when he drops his hands Bucky is staring at him, his features soft. He licks his lips and nods.

"Did he leave recently?" Bucky asks, and Sam's greatful he took the change of subject.

"Little after noon." Sam says, reaching across the island toward Bucky's plate, nodding at him when he pushed it forward for Sam. Bucky nods and doesn't say anything else. Sam cleans the plates and puts them away. He looks at the sandwich ingredients on the island, almost asks if Bucky wants another one, but decides against it and cleans those up too. Once the island is clean he just stands there, once again feeling odd in his own kitchen as Bucky watches him. He sees Bucky lay his palms flat against the marble and hears him take a breath.

"So these people-"

"Not now." Sam cuts him off, stares at Bucky as he frowns back at him, daring him to argue.

"We both need sleep." Sam says, sighing, his shoulders drooping in exhaustion. Bucky doesn't argue, Sam can see that he wants too, he can see that glint in his eyes. Though the longer Sam holds his gaze the less sure he is about what the glint means.

"Okay. Tomorrow." Bucky says, his eyes still staring.

"Tomorrow." Sam agrees, and walks toward the door slowly. He stops with his hand on it, pushing it open a bit, and turns back to Bucky, his eyes go wide again, waiting.

"Your friend... left his foot in our freezer. Might wanna get that back to him." Sam says and walks out the door. The corner of his mouth twitching as he hears Bucky laugh behind him.

#sambucky #winter falcon #sambucky fic #winter falcon fic #dirty deeds part 15 #dirty deeds #dd(ddc)#my writing #mob boss sam wilson #mercenary bucky

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