wrapped back

anonymous asked:

#LetFushimiRest Just Fushimi napping on Munakata while Munakata works. Reisaru obv

Maybe this happens some time in between the end of S1 and MK, when Scepter 4 was super slammed with work. Fushimi’s been out constantly on missions, when he’s not in the field he’s back at headquarters writing a million reports and doing a bunch of stuff that isn’t technically his job. Any attempts at helping him are blown off, like the alphabet squad keeps offering and Fushimi just clicks his tongue and tells them to get some sleep, not caring that he’s got these huge obvious bags under his own eyes. Munakata’s been working a lot too and as he’s typing Fushimi always finds his gaze moving towards Munakata’s office, thinking about Munakata saying stupid things like ‘Kings don’t sleep.’ Them Fushimi looks back down and starts typing again, working on twice as many things and if some of those things are reports that Munakata should technically be doing, well, he’s just trying to get things done more efficiently.

Eventually Munakata comes out of his office and expresses surprise as seeing Fushimi there. Fushimi half ignores him, muttering that he’s working and doesn’t have time to chat. Munakata notes that Fushimi’s been in the office very often lately and that he requires rest, Fushimi gives Munakata this twisted smile as he’s like ‘clansmen don’t sleep, Captain.’ Munakata chuckles a little at that and is like nevertheless, your body requires rest or it may break down. Fushimi clicks his tongue and says he has to finish this first. To his surprise, Munakata promptly sits down next to him and takes one of the reports, working on it. Fushimi stares at him and Munakata smiles back at him, noting that in this case if Fushimi will not rest until the work is done than the least Munakata can do is help him. Fushimi stares at him for a moment and then clicks his tongue and looks away, muttering 'do what you want’ even as his face feels a little hot. As he types his eyelids keep drooping, he’s exhausted but determined to stay awake. He can hear Munakata typing beside him, this steady clack of fingers on keys and there’s something lulling about it. Fushimi eyes droop closed again and soon he’s fast asleep, half-falling over to slump against Munakata. Munakata notices and shifts Fushimi a little so that Fushimi’s resting comfortably with his head on Munakata’s shoulder. Munakata tsks quietly like what will I do with you Fushimi-kun, continuing his typing and sopping every now and again to smooth Fushimi’s bangs or run his fingers through Fushimi’s hair as Fushimi sleeps peacefully against him.



The King and his Advisor


[makes ugly whale noises at the cute] 😩


“It was weird, I really enjoyed myself doing it, but the day after we wrapped, I went back home to Stockholm, Sweden, and it’s always a weird experience when you work really hard on something and then you go back to regular life at your childhood home. And that’s when I finally realized what an impact the character had had on me. For the following two weeks I would have these really disturbing dreams about Pennywise. It was very strange, it was almost like a really slow exorcism to completely let go of him.”

Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 2/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Depression, angst and fluff throughout the whole series, suicide attempt

A/N: Im so happy at how much support part 1 got?? Thankyou all so so so fucking much ily all also!! credit to @finn-got-tall for an idea in one of the scenes!! (I wont reveal which scene bc i want people to just read) but ty lovely

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Eddie and Richie blinked at each other, stunned to see one another in such a strange coincidence. Eddie still had his hand up, but Richie still hadn’t took it. Richie merely brought his hand up that held the cigarette, taking a drag and allowing the toxic waste to decay against his lungs. Eddie visibly cringed at the sight, but stayed silent; he only continued to watch in hope that Richie would somehow step down. Richie took away the small stick, blowing the smoke out slowly and staring at Eddie through his large obnoxious eye glasses.

“Why are you here, Eds?” Richie asked, as if a day hadn’t passed since they last talked.

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Pairing; Kim Taehyung x Reader

Words; 3.4k

Genre; Smut with a plot (hints of other things if you look real closely)

Summary;  ❝Lust; A passionate or overmastering desire or craving❞

Aka; Taehyung is a jerk, Jimin drags you to his Halloween party and Taehyung looks too fucking good dressed as a vampire

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BTS Reaction|Make Up Sex

Yoongi would handle you rougher than he had ever. All of the angry/sad mixed emotions he had while being away from you completely taking over, leaving him to rapidly move in and out of you repeatedly, while moaning out his love for you.

Jimins lips wouldn’t be able to leave yours as he kissed you continuously, letting you know how much he missed you. His kisses would be gentle but his hips would be quick on top of yours. Your legs and arms wrapped around his back, clinging onto his sweaty, fast moving body. Both of you enjoying the sounds of each other moans mixing into the air.

The moment you and jungkook got in bed he’d plan on making you beg for him, like the night he begged you to stay when you left him 2 years ago. His immediate and relentless pace, would leave you to multiple orgasms, causing him to stop and smirk at you in the middle of each one until you begged him to keep going.

He would do all the things to your body that he knew you loved when you were together 2 years ago. Starting from hair pulling, neck biting, dirty talk, and switching into many different positions in one night to admire every angle of your body connected to his.

Jins movements would be slow and gentle. He’d enjoy the feeling of being tightly held in your arms while remembering everything he missed about you when it came to being in bed. The two of you wouldn’t last long; cumming together almost immediately due to the overwhelming feeling of being connected sexually after two whole years.

While remembering the night you left him and told him you’d never come back two years ago; Namjoons cockiness would take over him while watching you shake, and whimper in pleasure, underneath his rapid moving body, during your make up sex session. The smirks on his face, almost permanent as he would listen and enjoy you beg for him while he teased you.

Jhope would make sure to give you his all, showing you how much he missed you and how much you would be missing if you were to ever leave him again. His steady but deep strokes would give you multiple orgasms all night, each one making you clench around him tighter until finally he’d give in, spilling a huge load into you, while crying out how much you mean to him.

Getting Jealous

Summary: The reader was supposed to be Steve’s tutor, but Steve walks into the library to see her helping Billy. Does he really get the right to be jealous if they’re just friends?

Word Count: 3519 

Authors note: I cannot believe how smutty this is guys…holy shit…get ready for smutty angsty Steve!! Lmk what you think:)

You were chewing on a pen, focusing on the paper you were currently reading. Your concentration was broken, however, when you felt someone staring.

Bringing your head up you saw Billy looking down at you, to be fair you were grading his paper, but to also be fair he was giving you the most sinful look ever.

Normally you’d be helping Steve with his papers, but he’d become weirdly distant lately. So you distracted yourself, and how much you missed him, by helping Billy. 

Billy licked his lips, “What’s the damage sweetheart?”. You tried not to blush from all the attention. Looking away you said, “Well I can’t exactly read when you’re staring at me like that”.

You laughed lightly, trying to ease the situation. His smirk only grew, “Sorry, I just badly want-”. Billy paused briefly, wanting to see how you’d react. Letting out a breath he finished, “To do good you know?”.

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repercussions : ceo!tom imagine {part i}

Summary: Your hookup from last night was now standing in front of you as your boss (ft. CEO!Tom)

Requested?: Yes !

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, CEO!Tom

Author’s Note: I had so many Grey’s Anatomy vibes while writing this so I actually re-watched the first episode…Lord help me. Part 2?

As your eyes shot open, a deep sleep being disturbed by the fluttering of your phone alarm across the room, your eyes tried to adjust to the bright rays of early sunlight filtering through the light curtains adorning your bedroom windows. You almost forgot about the stranger lying next to you, his face buried in the pillow drowning out his soft snores. You watched his back rise and relax through his deep breaths, clearly unfazed by your alarm that was still chirping.

You removed the comforter and sheets that were draped over your pantless body, only clad in a shirt you assumed belong to the man that resided next to you. You swung your legs softly off of the bed, careful not to shift the bed too much. You crept over to your phone that was perched on top of your dresser, rapidly pressing the button that would stop the alarming sounds. You unlocked your phone and scrolled through the notifications you had received over the course of the night, your back facing the bed. A new notification popped up, ‘NEW JOB TODAY !!! 9 A.M.’  You checked the time, thankful it was only 7:00 a.m. meaning you had some spare time to get ready and put more effort into the look. Your attention was caught as you heard the man still behind you clear his throat, making you turn around quickly.

“Well, this is quite the view to wake up to, darling,” his voice was coated in a morning rasp, and it made his accent much thicker. It made your stomach flip as you took in the nickname, gaining some memories of the names he had used for you last night sending a blush up to your cheeks. You forgot he had an accent. Hell, you struggled relentlessly to remember his name. You cleared your throat as well, setting your phone back on the dresser.

“Uh, yeah, hey, good morning…” you began, mentally kicking yourself for already forgetting his name. He noticed you were having difficulty and took amusement in it. He sat himself up in the bed, leaning back on his palms that rested slightly behind him, showing off his very toned torso.

“It’s Tom. Thought you would at least know that from as often as you screamed it last night.. Tell me, Y/N,” he put an emphasis on your name as he smirked, clearly remembering yours, “is your throat feeling sore from all the screaming? Or perhaps su-”

“Ok, ok, I remember now, thanks for the refresher course!” You tried to shush him, your hand waving along with your words, his crude comments much too much for you to handle this early in the morning. “I have to get ready for work now, it’s my first day, and I’m sure you have a job to attend to as well,” you tried to reason with him, eager to get him out of your apartment. Your head was starting to pick up an aching feeling, and you said a quick prayer your hangover would be merciful for your first day of work.

Your mind flashed back to the night came to end only merely a few hours ago. The club you went to was up the street from your apartment, and you were eager to get out of the cramped space. Your intentions were only to get a drink or two, just to ease the nerves that racked your body that followed the anticipation of your new job beginning tomorrow. As you traced the edge of your freshly mixed Cosmopolitan, surveying the bodies that packed the small club, a man took a seat on the barstool standing next to you. You briefly shifted your eyes to look at who was occupying the seat next to you. However, his eyes were already wandering over you. You were clad in a tight black shirt that hung off of the shoulders and a simple pair of high waisted jeans accompanied by a simple pair of black heels. You turned your head to look at him properly after realizing his attention was already on you.

You first noticed his piercing eyes. They were a deep auburn, flecked with golden sparks towards the center. They were furrowed into a hungry look, as if they were consuming the sight of you. His hair was styled almost too perfectly. His what seemed like brunette curls were swept to the side taming them to a wavy state. A crisp white button down and a black tie complimented his fair skin. He leaned over in his seat until his face was in close proximity to you, sending confusion throughout your mind.

“Excuse me if this is a bit forward, but ever since I saw you walk through those doors, I’ve been planning on leaving with you on my arm,” his voice spoke just loud enough to be heard over the thumping music, an English accent ringing clearly. You raised an eyebrow at his confession, leaning back a bit on your stool. However, the alcohol buzzing through you was enough to guide your confidence.

“Buy me another drink, and we’ll see how well your plan works.”

“Actually, yes I do, love. Thanks for the reminder, by the way, may I have my shirt back?” He motioned to the shirt that hung off of your body, barely covering your bum all the way and reaching only the top half of your thighs. You nodded in cooperation.

“Well, yeah of course, it is your shirt..Let me just go change in the bathroom,” you spoke, pointing to the bathroom door that was slightly ajar. You reached for one of the drawers of your dresser, opening it in search of a t- shirt and a pair of shorts. As you pursed the clothing items, Tom interrupted you.

“I think we went way past that stage, I mean you could just strip here,” his words stringing along a nonchalant tone. You turned around to face him, crossing your arms. He shrugged his shoulders in response before lifting himself out of the bed. His boxers were the only article of clothing that stuck to his body. His eyes scanned the room in search of his pants and shoes and other various items. You watched his movements, not budging. He gathered up his items that were strewn across your bedroom, cradling them in his arms. You did your best to divert your attention away from his lower torso and boxers as he approached you. He stood in front of you, his eyes lowering to scan your body. His hand came up to your neck, sweeping away the hair that had fallen over it carelessly, a smug look crossing his lips.

“Might want to cover these up, doll,” his accent adding a new element to the pet name that tumbled from his mouth. Your hand reached up instinctively to the area he was referring to and whipped your body around to face the mirror attached to your dresser, uncovering your hand to see what he was talking about. Deep purple marks littered the side of your neck, some of them darker than others. A gasp left your mouth at the sight that could’ve been resembled a crime scene.

You could suddenly feel the pressure and sensation of his lips pressing into your sensitive skin, teeth occasionally nipping at the skin above your collarbones. He had you pressed against one of your bedroom walls, the back of your head was rested against the wall firmly. One of his hands gripped your waist tightly and the other was wrapped around the back of your neck, enabling him to move your head to allow him access to the surface of your skin that was now peppered with goosebumps and traces of his lips.

You entangled your hands into his hair, desperate for more attention elsewhere from his mouth. Your hands pulled his head up by his hair, his teeth now gripping onto his bottom lip. His hands were now both stuck to your waist.

“Need more, princess?” His voice rasped out, and you, unable to form words, only replied with a nod.

“I need to hear you, tell me what you want,” he commanded, his hands roaming behind you to grip your ass in his hands, he squeezed roughly, making you stand up straighter.

“I n-need your mouth, please.”

“Please, what?” He dropped to his knees. His hands reaching for the button that secured your jeans, undoing it slowly. He pulled the jeans down torturously slow, slipping them down to around your ankles and you kicked them off impatiently, leaving you in your underwear. His fingertips traced the outline of your clothed core, only increasing the wetness that had gathered there. He looked up at you and halted his actions making you groan. “What’s the proper way to ask me, pretty girl?”

“Please, sir.” The two words fell from your lips in desperation, eager for him to bring you to a release from all the frustration that had build up over the time spent with him. “Please,” you moaned out, his fingers now massaging over the damp barely-there underwear covering you.

“Good girl,” he praised. He allowed himself to hook his fingers into the sides your panties and pull them down, sending anticipation through your body. You kicked them out of the way, hands tangling into his hair. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh before tapping your calf, gesturing for you to spread your legs a bit more. As you did so, he brought up a finger to your wetness, running a finger along your slit teasingly. Before you could plead for him to do more, he brought his head forward and ran his tongue over the pattern his finger had previously traced. His tongue moved upwards, his lips now sucking slightly on your clit. As he did so, he brought his finger back to your opening and slipped it in, pumping at a teasingly slow pace. You groaned at the mix of pleasure brought from his finger and his tongue, but desired more.

“Sir, I need more, please fuck me,” you moaned out, voice trembling. He added another finger and began moving them at a faster rate in and out of you. He admired your wetness that came from his actions and continued to use his tongue to lap at your clit. He ignored your request for a moment and continued his actions before pulling away completely, procrastinating your closeness to a release.

“Bed now, hands and knees, baby girl.”

“Oh, my, god! Tom! What the fuck? How am I supposed to cover these up?” Your voice was laced with utter panic and irritation at his markings. You turned to face him, his infamous smirk lingering on his face.

“Where exactly are you working?” He asked, a somewhat sincere tone ringing out. His hands reached forward to unbutton the shirt of his you had borrowed for the night. You didn’t stop him, just wanting to get all of this over. ‘What gives, I’m not even going to see him again,’ you reminded yourself.

“Holland Corporations, it’s at the main office and they said I’d be meeting with the CEO today and it just rattled my nerves even more,” you informed him. His fingertips were still fumbling with the buttons. As he reached the last button, he admired the way the shirt barely covered your breasts, revealing the body he had spent all night worshipping. He also took note of the faint bruises that littered your hips, from his hands nonetheless. He kept the observation to himself as he listed to your words.

As you mentioned your new workplace, his eyes shot up to yours. An intrigued look sparked behind his eyes.

“What’s that look for?” You questioned him, turning to face away from him as you let the shirt drop off your body. You quickly put on the other shirt you had pulled out from the dresser. You spun back around to look at him.

“Nothing, darling. It’s just I work there too,” he said it in an unreadable tone. “I don’t think Mr. Holland will mind the marks.” He bent down to pick up his shirt, his lips trying to suppress the grin that was growing on his face. You ignored Tom’s sudden weirdness and put your palm up to your forehead.

“Oh my god, I’ve already slept with someone I work with,” you groaned. What a wonderful start. “Whatever, you should just go, I have to get ready,” you spoke quickly. You pushed him towards the bedroom door, a confused look crossing his face, his clothes still bunched in his arms. He tried to speak, but you cut him off again. “Bye, Tom!” As soon as he was out of the room, you shut the door. You hurried into the bathroom to shower and get out the door as quickly as you could.

After taking the necessary steps to get yourself ready, adding an extra bit of makeup to start off the first day, you gathered your things and headed out the front door. You went through mentally how to keep yourself composed when facing your new boss.

You took the short commute from your apartment complex to the rather intimidatingly large skyscraper that was at least twenty stories. As you stood outside the revolving doors, you took a deep breath before stepping into them. Your heels clicked along the tile once you stepped foot onto the white marble floors. You admired the minimalist theme that decorated the interior of the building. You looked down at your phone, searching for the email that contained instructions to navigate your way to your first meeting with the CEO, your boss. You would be working directly with him, an assistant in a way, but almost as an advisor for him to look to for opinions on important matters. You hadn’t met him yet, only interviewed with members on the board of directors that felt you would be an excellent asset to the company.

You followed the simple instructions to get to Mr. Holland’s office: take the elevator to the 22nd floor, exit and turn left, follow the hallway all the way to the end, take a right, and the doors to his office would be right there. You were surprised there wasn’t another receptionist up there, just lots of other presumably smaller offices.

Upon reaching Mr. Holland’s office doors, you straightened out the dark red skirt that was clung to your lower half, reaching just above your knees. You stood up taller and knocked out the door firmly.

“Just a minute,” a voice called out from behind the doors. A voice that sounded almost too familiar. Only a couple moments passed before you heard the shuffling of papers and the squeak of chair wheels skidding across the floor. You took a step back, and soon enough the door was being swung open, causing your jaw to drop, a gasp falling from your mouth. 

“Ah, Y/N. I’ve been expecting you, come in,” Tom spoke, a visible look of utter disbelief on your face. A suit now adorned the body you had slept with last night and into the early hours of this morning. You stood frozen in your spot as Tom turned to walk back into the office.

“Oh my god, when you said you worked here…you meant..”

“Yeah, I meant I own the whole company. Something to that effect. Anyways, come in, darling, let’s go over your agenda,” his back was to you as he spoke. He arrived to his oversized black desk, taking a seat in the leather chair. You however, stood still planted in your original position. You shook your head, unable to form a word. As Tom noticed you hadn’t followed him, he smirked at you. “Cat got your tongue?”

“This is clearly a joke, you think I’d work here now after sleeping with you? What does that say about me?” An edge was present in your tone, taking Tom by surprise. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, I’m just going to head out.” You turned on your heel and started back down the excessively long hallway. Your action caused Tom to hurry out of his seat, rushing out of his office to bring you back in.

“Y/N! Come here, please,” he yelled out at you. You turned around to face him, shaking your head fiercely.

“Hell no, I can’t believe you’d think I’d take this job now. I had no idea who you were last night and if I did it would’ve never-” you began. However, during your little rant he sped walked over to you, grabbing your arm once he reached you. His employees in the smaller offices had now gained an interest in your conversation and Tom noticed this.

“My office, now,” he spoke through gritted teeth, releasing your arm. You rolled your eyes and stomped behind him to his office. Your heels let out a loud sound that echoed throughout the hallway. Once the two of you entered the office, he turned and locked the door.

“Seriously, Tom. You’re delusional-”

“What happened to Sir? It seemed to be a pretty common thing tumbling from those pretty lips of yours last night.” He had a habit of cutting you off today. You rolled your eyes again, irritated with his attitude. He stood in front of you, your arms crossed in front of your chest, hand still holding your purse. He reached forward and took the purse from your hand, making you protest, but he shushed you. You groaned and went and stood by his desk, further away from him. He set your purse down on a table near the door and made his way over to you, adjusting the cuffs of his button up.

“Listen, I’m serious, Tom. I quit. Why the fuck wouldn’t you have said anything as soon as I mentioned it this morning? I’m not going to start a job this way,” you huffed, arms still crossed. Without a word, Tom walked over to you, eyes never leaving yours. As he got closer, you felt your heart speed up. He was wearing the same cologne he wore the night before, a scent that drove you to intoxication. You tried to push away the thoughts of inhaling that while your head was buried in his neck while he pounded into you the night before. Once he got to you, he leaned forward and pressed his hands to either side of the desk, entrapping you beneath him.

“I should’ve said something this morning, you’re right. But that doesn’t change anything,” he argued. It was hard to focus on everything he was saying since he was still hovering above you.

“I-I don’t care, we shouldn’t do this, it’s w-wrong.”

“Darling, the only thing that’s wrong right now is all the thoughts running through my mind about fucking you against this desk until you decide to stay.”

tag list: tag list: @curly-haired-crisp @babyparker @@melaniemypotato@thedaesies @spideypnw@gentlethunderstorm@villagecrazypeggy @spideytattoo@ladyrevealedofcloak @danceoff-bro @milkcroissant @lipkits@gray-rose13@bisexualmomfriend @t-eleanor @i-alm0st-d0@ttholland


Part 1:

The last thing Lance remembered before the bomb went off was a deep searing pain where his exposed hand held onto the door frame for dear life.

Then nothing.

He woke up to a dull ache filling his body.

He tried to sit up but found himself half buried by the rubble of the Galra base they had been in.

Lance groaned as he pushed the rubble away only to scream in agony.

When Lance was ten he had fallen off his bike and broke his arm, until now he didn’t think anything could be worse then looking down and seeing his bone sticking out just under the skin.

Then he looked at his hands.

All the skin on the back of his hands were gone leaving nothing but exposed muscle and bones visible between the large puss filled blisters that had swollen up from his palms and we almost wrapping round the back.

Lance just about managed to turn his head to the side to avoid throwing up over his own chest.

It hurt so much he could barley think. Only the realisation that his team could also be hurt and need him managed to get through.

Lance isn’t sure how he managed to get the rubble off himself.

His body seemed to be working on auto pilot dragging himself down the halls.

“Lance! Keith yelled as he saw the blue paladin wall past. He breathed a sigh of relief.

If he was walking then he must be fine.

Lance slowly turned to see Keith struggling to support Hunks weight between himself and Pidge.

Other then the odd cut and bruise they both seemed fine.

Hunk on the other hand had a large gash just above his right eyebrow and seemed unconscious.

“Cover us while we get him to the lions, your out sharpshooter after all.” Keith smiled.

He assumed that the reason why Lance was so pale and shaking was because of the state his best friend was in. He needed him to focus.

Lance nodded only half understanding what Keith was asking. He just knew he had to protect them… even if that meant holding his bayard.

Keith clearly satisfied by the answer turned and started the agonisingly slow treck to the hangars.

Lance swallowed the lump in his throat as he activated his bayard. Tears prickling his eyes and a scream desperate to escape his throat.

Oh God it hurt just to hold it, let alone shoot.

Lance knew he should tell Keith. That he should admit he needed help.

But just as h opened his mouth to say something the hallway was swarmed with sentries.

With his friends in danger Lance did what he did best.

He began to shoot.

Head shot after head shot he took care of any that got too close.

He even kept going when the blisters on his hands burst and he saw white spots dancing in front of his eyes.

But he got them through. He got them to the lions.

For the mission they had only taken Black and Green so Lance was thankful he didn’t have to pilot Red back to the castle.

He was able to just sit on the floor next to Hunk as Keith flew them out of there.

“How’s he looking?” Keith asked once they were in open space.

When Lance didn’t answer Keith was stabbed with panic in his gut.

Was Hunk that bad?

He put Black on auto pilot and hurried to the back of the cockpit only to find Lance slumped against the wall breathing heavily and staring unseeingly ahead.

“Lance?” Keith asked crouching down and placing a hand on his shoulder.

When he got no answer he tried again, giving his shoulder a little shake. “Lance? Come on answer me!”

Keith was starting to get scared now. Lance was just sitting there like he didn’t even hear him.

It was then that Keith looked down at Lance’s hands.

Allura and Shiro were waiting for Blacks door to open and were greeted by Keith’s terror filled scream.

They exchanged a glance to each other before running in nearly colliding with Keith who was carrying Lance.

“He didn’t say anything! Why didn’t he tell me!” Keith had tears running down his cheeks.

For one terrible moment Shiro thought Lance had died. Then he saw the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Unfortunately he also saw his hand laying across it.

Shiro didn’t ask what happened. Instead he took Lance from Keith and ran to the pods.


Hunk got out of the pods an hour after being put in.

He joined the others sitting in the infirmary watching Lance.

They watched as the Pods dissolved his hands into quintessence, too badly damaged to do anything but amputate in order to save him.

By time Lance fell out two days later he was missing his arm up to his elbow on the right and up to his shoulder on the left.

Soon as Lance saw the damaged he broke.

He began screaming and sobbing, the others wrapping him up in a hug .

“I’m sorry I’m sorry!” Lance cried over and over again.

“This isn’t your fault.” Shiro said firmly, his own stump aching in sympathy.

“I can’t be your sharp shooter anymore. I can’t cover you.”

Keith had to leave.

He had asked Lance to cover them… maybe if he hadn’t then Lance would still be whole.

Maybe Lance’s hands would of had a chance.

Some leader he was… he broke his team mate… his friend.


Happy Birthday @taylor-tut