Nightmare
Pairing: Hawks (Takami Keigo) x gn!reader
Genre: angst, fluffy ending
Warnings: choking (at the beginning), implied abuse, unintended physical assault?
WC: 1.5k
Summary: Hawks has a nightmare and you comfort him.
(A/N): not me skipping out on school homework again to write this-
anyways a lovely anon requested “reader comforting Hawks after a nightmare” and said something about Hawks’s father being a convicted villain. now, i’m not a manga reader so i don’t exactly know what’s happening at this point, so i did my own little take on it. u didn’t include the gender of the reader in ur request so i did my best to make it gender neutral! hope you enjoy, anon! have a lovely day ❤️ (and if u don’t like this take on it u can always request something else or a diff version of this!! i don’t mind at all! 😘 )
You woke up suddenly, the feeling of a hand wrapped around your throat making it impossible to breathe. Gasping for air, you struggled uselessly against the strong hand holding you captive.
“K-Keigo,” you rasped out, hands clawing desperately at the fingers constricting your airway. “L-let go, K-Keigo. I-it’s,” you coughed, spluttering. “It’s me.” You tried to keep a calm mind, but your vision was getting hazier by the moment, your thrashing slowing, running out of energy.
Finally, you stop struggling. Maybe he’d let go if he believed that you, or whichever entity you replaced in his head, was dead. He snarled once, then his grip around your neck slowly loosened. You sucked in air greedily, gulp after gulp, as if you’d never breathe again.
Once you had calmed yourself down, you slowly reached up to cup your boyfriend’s face with your hands, cradling it like he was the most delicate thing in the world.
“Baby,” you whispered, the choking having taken its toll on your voice. “Keigo, honey, wake up. You’re having another nightmare.”
Maybe calling him by his first name in a circumstance like this wasn’t the best idea. He immediately snatched both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. You winced at the sudden movement, and you could feel your muscles stretching further than they were meant to.
“Baby,” you tried again. “Hawks.”
His body went still when you called him that. His breath hitched, and his grip on your wrist loosened ever so slightly.
Slowly, you moved your wrists apart, then moved in to wrap your boyfriend in a bear hug. You rubbed his back soothingly, careful to avoid touching his wings, and murmured softly into his neck.
“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay. You’re just having another nightmare.”
Slowly, he shifted away from you. Blinking groggily into your eyes, he tried to recollect himself. You managed a small smile of relief, which disappeared quickly as soon as you saw his eyes latch onto your bruised neck.
“Babe,” his voice was small, almost as if he was scared this was real. “Babe, did I do that to you?” His voice cracked.
Clearing your throat to try and get rid of the excess scratchiness that remained, you replied as calmly as you could. “Yeah babe, but it’s okay, you were just having another nightmare. You didn’t really hurt me, see?” You tried to take his hand and place it on your neck to prove to him that you weren’t hurt, but he flinched away at your touch. You blinked back tears, trying not to let them fall. Why was this so hard?
You pushed back the covers to your bed and padded into the kitchen. Opening the cabinets, you looked for the hot cocoa mix that was perpetually in stock at your boyfriend’s apartment. He loved hot cocoa, and although chamomile was usually the “calming” tea, you found that cocoa had a much better effect on Keigo.
Quickly brewing two cups, you added some marshmallows and carried them back into the bedroom. Sitting down on the bed next to Keigo, you nudged him lightly with your elbow.
“Drink.” You held out a cup to him.
Wordlessly, he reached out and took the cup from you. He took careful measured sips, never once looking at you. You focused your eyes on your own cup instead and winced when you took your first sip. You hadn’t expected it to be so painful to swallow. Apparently, your throat muscles were still sore. Forcing yourself to take sips of the drink normally so that he wouldn’t catch on and ask what was wrong, you sat in silence, waiting until he was ready to talk.
Keigo moved to speak, but words wouldn’t come out of his mouth. He’d hurt you. Badly. If you hadn’t managed to think quickly enough to play dead, and then to realize that calling him by his hero name would be better than calling him by his given name, who knows what would’ve happened? Would he have killed you?
The sounds that came out of his mouth were more of a choked sob than anything else. Why? Why did this happen? He’d stopped having nightmares about his childhood years ago. Why now? He couldn’t understand it. Sleeping together with you in the same bed should have brought warmth and comfort. Peace. The opposite of what had transpired earlier.
He curled and unfurled his wings repeatedly, his go-to stress reliever. Taking another big gulp of his drink, he tried to clear his mind.
“Babe?” You asked quietly, not wanting to disturb him. “Babe, I’m okay. Look, I’m right here,” you tried to assure him that he didn’t really hurt you. Keigo didn’t respond. Suddenly, he stood up and marched out of the bedroom.
Keigo couldn’t think. He just couldn’t process it. He set his cup down on the kitchen counter, then quickly grabbed his pants, a shirt, and his warm flying jacket. He threw on his goggles and headphones faster than he’d ever done before, pressed a button to open the living room window, and hopped out.
You were still sitting quietly on the bed, hands wrapped around your favorite mug. Tears were trickling down your eyes, but still, you sat in silence. Why couldn’t he open up? Why couldn’t he tell you what was wrong, so you could help him? You didn’t think that you had ever felt so helpless before, the aching in your chest had never been as painful. You missed him. You wanted to hold him, tell him that everything would be okay, but he hadn’t let you.
Setting down your mug on the nightstand, you slid open the drawer. You took out a photo album Keigo had given you for your first anniversary. You flipped through it slowly, each picture reminding you of a happy memory.
The picture that your friend secretly took the first time he took you out on a date.
The two of you visiting the botanical gardens, him carrying you, flying right above the water lily pond.
A picture of him greeting a small fan of his, arms wrapped around the little boy’s body, beaming into the camera.
The time that you went to the animal shelter and adopted a pet kitty.
The picture of you lying back on a picnic blanket in a field of wildflowers, hands behind your head, gazing up at the stars.
You hugged the album close to your chest, convinced that you could help him. You weren’t willing to give up on this relationship, and you knew that he wouldn’t let it go without a fight either. Slowly, grogginess seeped in and you fell asleep, tear tracks staining your cheeks, still cradling the photo album in your arms.
That was how Keigo found you, snoring slightly into your pillow, curled up on your side. He’d flown around the prefecture, music rattling his bones, savoring the cool night air on his face. He circled the theater, the botanical gardens, and the meadows. He’d even flown up a mountain and stood on its peak. Surveying the city laid out before him, he’d realized that in this entire city of 10 million people, the only one he’d formed a true connection with, the only one he could truly call a friend, was you. He’d hurt his only friend, but selfish as it was, he wasn’t willing to let you go.
You woke up to the sound of footsteps by the bed. Blearily, you blinked your eyes, trying to rid your vision of the fuzziness that took over, and stared up at your boyfriend. He had his hands tucked in his pockets, looking wary, yet alive. Gingerly, he sat down beside you on the bed.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” you responded in a sleepy tone.
His gaze shifted towards your neck, where bruises in the shape of his hand littered your skin. He lifted a hand cautiously and gently rubbed your throat with his thumb.
“Does it hurt?” He whispered, looking ashamed of himself. “Please tell me the truth.”
“Only a little,” you begrudgingly admitted, then moved to place your hand on top of his.
He swallowed, clearly upset at his actions.
“You weren’t in control of yourself, Keigo,” you said quietly. “You were having a nightmare. It wasn’t your fault.”
“That’s the problem,” he whispered harshly. “I wasn’t in control of myself. I couldn’t stop myself. What if it happens again? What then, (Y/N)? What if we’re unlucky, and I don’t wake up in time?”
“It won’t happen again,” you reply sternly. “Because you’re going to talk to me about that nightmare you had and we’re going to work through it. If we can’t, then I’ll take you to see a therapist. We’re going to work this out, Keigo.”
He inhaled sharply, then took his other hand and wrapped you in a hug.
“You’re right, babe. We’re going to get through this together,” he murmured, chin resting atop of your head.
You smiled softly against his shoulder, knowing that it was the truth.
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