#God the elbows are the worst. I can't use my arm the rest of the day even if I get it back in

[lesbianwyllravengard]

My cousin was trying to complain to me about how, when she dislocated her knee and told my sister about it, my sister tried to relate by telling our cousin how she went two weeks with her knee dislocating repeatedly once - and my cousin was mad solely because she didn't believe my sister and said "it's not possible to go that long with a dislocated joint" because from her singular experience it was too painful... And I was like girly I hate to break it to you but my sister has joint hypermobility which causes joints like her knees to dislocate or subluxate stupidly easy, and yes it absolutely is possible to go that long with it and I know this because I also have joint hypermobility and have gone an entire month with my shoulder dislocating repeatedly before. Like, news flash, people with disabilities get pretty fucking used to their chronic pain sometimes. I didn't even know my shoulder was out because my back pain is such a constant that the shoulder pain blended right in. Idk I guess my point here is, not believing someone's injury because their level of pain doesn't meet your standards is bullshit in general, but especially if you don't even know if that person is disabled in some way and therefore you base their wellbeing off of your own able bodied self. Shut up.

[rhetoric-86]

The Reluctant Chaperone

(Credit to whoever made this lovely gif cause it isn’t mine❤️)

There isn’t nearly enough love for Argyle on this app so, I took matters into my own hands.

When Nancy bails on accompanying Mike to California, the middle Wheeler child is reluctantly sent in her place. Maybe the trip will still be worth her while.

Pairing: Argyle X Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, oral (male and female receiving), graphic descriptions of sexual content, drug use (marijuana)

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The plane started its descent, the change in pressure causing your sense of fight or flight to kick in. White knuckle gripping the seat your eyes are drawn down to where your brother keeps bumping into your leg as he nervously taps his foot.

"Knock it off Mike!" you say through gritted teeth and he mumbles an apology.

You're unsure if his nerves come from the landing or from the fact that he's about to see El for the first time in months. You want to cut him some slack but you're already so angry you have to be here in the first place. In your mind you have better things to do back in Hawkins than chaperoning your brother on a weeklong date.

A Thump as the wheels hit the runway and another pressure shift as the speed decreases. You're done for now, thank God.

Passengers get up, busily go about grabbing their bags from the overhead and you and Mike are moving before long.

As you exit the terminal you hear a shout of Mike's name and El is excitedly approaching, he greets her with flowers in hand and you look back to the rest of your welcome party.

Jonathan stands near Will and beside him is someone you don't recognize. Tall, attractive, well dressed...Jonathan must have made a new friend here.

The new guy has his eyes locked on you and elbows Jonathan who looks up hopefully and immediately frowns. Ah. New guy thought you were Nancy. You suddenly feel very awkward in your own skin. That is, until you approach the group and the new guy immediately checks the tag on Mike's shirt and informs him hes wearing a "knock off" and you can't help but laugh.

Jonathan greets you with a half hearted, one armed hug and you return the favor.

"Hey, Jonathan."

"Hey...didn't expect to see you here."

"Well...Nance is busy and mom wouldn't let Mike go alone." you shrug. Will greets you with a large hug and you almost lift him off the floor, ruffling his hair as you put him back. Even though he's now grown taller than you, he will always be your little brother in your eyes. He and Mike used to be a real package deal, after all.

You glance over at Jonathan's friend and find him already looking at you with a goofy smile.

"Whose this?" you ask.

Before anyone can answer he embraces you in a hug as if he had known you and been expecting you. He was so much larger than you in stature, the hug was consuming and yet so comforting, you couldn't help but relax into it and embrace him back.

"This is Argyle." Jonathan shrugs.

"Hey!" Argyle nods at you. "I've heard a lot about your sister but Jonathan never told me there was another Wheeler babe."

You smirk at this. "He probably never noticed I was even there...he was too busy trying to weasel Nancy away from the most popular guy in our school."

"No shit?" Argyle looked at Jonathan with an appreciative nod. "Didn't realize you were a legend, bro."

Jonathan's cheeks blushed immediately and he clapped his hands together.

"Alright, let's get out of here then, yeah?"

The ride back to the Byers home was full of awkward tension. Mike and El were cuddled in the back of the van as she gushed about how wonderful school had been and now many new friends she had made. You were seated next to Will, who kept staring out of his window as if he were plunged into the worst existential crisis of his young life. The air between him and Mike felt very off. Jonathan was in the front, looking at Argyle with glazed over eyes and asking why "Parkways are for driving but driveways are for parking. That's weird right?"

Argyle didn't seem to be listening, what he was doing though was glancing into his rearview mirror, looking at you.

You felt a blush creeping into your cheeks and averted your eyes.

The van, a flamboyantly colored pizza delivery truck, rolled to a stop in front of their house and Will immediately got out, leaving everyone behind as he entered the front door.

"What's up with him?" you asked but Jonathan just shook his head.

"He was fine this morning."

El had insisted on taking the boys to her "favorite place" , a roller rink in town.

You had the choice between joining Jonathan and Argyle for the evening, chaperoning the kids or locking yourself in the Byers guest room with a book. You honestly considered the book until you locked eyes with Argyle, again already watching you, and he insisted you let him show you around. There are worse ways to spend an evening than with a sweet, attentive stranger...and Jonathan. You agreed to go with them to drop the kids off.

However, once you had the van to yourselves, you considered whether you had made a mistake. Jonathan immediately began asking you a tangent of questions about Nancy. How many times could you dodge a real answer before you would ultimately have to relent that you felt like she didn't come for the simple reason that maybe she didn't want to?

As if he could sense your discomfort, Argyle pulled off onto a dusty road and brought the van to a stop.

"Jonathan, man, maybe we should do something else right? I know exactly what this evening needs, Senorita." he turned back to smile at you from the driver's seat, producing a pungent joint from his shirt pocket.

"A little purple palm tree delight will make you forget all about your long distance love, dude, and let us enjoy present company, yeah?"

He fixed Jonathan with a surprisingly serious look and Jonathan relented, taking the joint from Argyle's hand and sparking a light.

Before long you were all laughing in the hot boxed van.

Argyle and Jonathan climbed out and you all opened the back doors of the van, sitting with your legs hanging out, looking up at the setting sun. You were positioned between them, lightly pressed into the warmth of Argyle's arm, listening to him tell the story of how they had met and become friends. They both had detention and ended up smoking under the bleachers after.

"The rest was history..." Argyle concluded, turning his head and smiling down at the contact where your bodies touched.

"Me and Nancy are probably history." Jonathan added, immediately making you cringe.

"Yeah probably, man." Argyle nodded, completely oblivious to the fact that normally you would try to lie or comfort a friend in that situation. "Your loss is kinda my gain though, there's no way this isn't the cooler sister."

You had been mid hit at this point and immediately began laughing so hard you almost choked to death on the smoke in your lungs.

"Dude" Jonathan scoffed at him. "You're an idiot man."

Argyle was patting your back with an amused look on his face and you glanced back at him with watering eyes, suddenly very aware.

"Hey." you sputtered. "Weren't we supposed to pick up the kids?"

You reached the roller rink and found a sea of chaos. There wasn't any more sense of normalcy at the Byers home, either for that matter.

Upon entering you immediately found Murray Bauman in the kitchen cooking dinner. Joyce was acting scattered and sort of frantic. El was vacant, Mike was on edge, Will seemed annoyed. You, Jonathan and Argyle were far too blazed to try and act cool. The absurdity of the entire situation made you bite your lip until it hurt in order to avoid laughing out loud during the painfully odd dinner conversation. Finally, El slammed in her chair and departed, obviously fighting with Mike over whatever happened at the rink. You decided this was the perfect time to make an escape as well.

"Hey!" you turned to Argyle and he met you, glazed eyes and a mouth full of risotto but somehow, still adorable.

"You wanted to show me around right? Offer still stand?"

He gulped down the bite of food in his mouth and widely smiled.

"Hell yeah!"

"Are you kidding me?" Mike objected, glaring at you from across the table. "Does this honestly seem like a good time?"

"Seems like the best time, Mike." you stood, pushing in your chair. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Thanks for dinner Murray! Good luck in uh...Alaska...Joyce!"

You hastily retreated and Argyle almost tripped over his own chair trying to go after you.

The front door slammed shut and Jonathan hazily glanced up from his plate.

"Hey… where did they go?"

Even with a head start you still couldn’t reach the van before Argyle.

He was laughing as he wrenched the passenger door open and waved his arm with a flourish.

“Watch your step, hermosa!”

You flushed, dipping your head so he wouldn’t see the affect he had on you.

He closed the door after you and rushed to the driver’s side, bringing the engine to life.

“Couldn’t get the fuck out of there fast enough.” you sighed.

“That vibe was weird, man.” he agreed. “Where do you think Joyce is actually going?”

If you hadn’t already smoked you probably would have given that more thought, more concern considering the things you had all seen but at this point, you couldn’t find a single concern in your cloudy brain.

“Where do you want to go?” he asked. “We can grab a slice where I work, or like, I can take you to the quarry where Jonathan and I go to break stuff and let off steam, or…”

For whatever reason, you felt emboldened in that moment and instead replied, “I don’t know…where do you live? We could uh…we could go there…”

His eyes widened, grip on the wheel tightened, he gulped.

“Uh…yeah. Yeah we could do that, it’s not far. My parents are like, never home, dude.”

“Cool!” You smiled, meeting his eye for a moment before he returned his gaze to the road. You were surprised to arrive at a gated community, houses larger than most you’d find in Hawkins. You glanced back at Argyle, taking him in, studying his soft features. If he came from money he certainly didn’t act like the rich kids back home. Not a bit of arrogance about him. He pulled into a gorgeous home, brick face and a chandelier hanging in a large window above the front door.

“Wow. Look at you!” You raised your eyebrows and cracked a smile at him. “What are you the heir to Surfer Boy Pizza?”

He shrugged. “I guess? My parents own it.”

“Oh. I was joking, but that’s cool.” You suddenly hated yourself for bringing it up. What if you had made him feel uncomfortable?

“That’s why I’m always driving this thing!” He laughed and patted the wheel. “Come on, Bonita! Wanna grab some drinks and smoke by the pool?”

“Hell yeah!” You nodded and climbed out of his passenger seat. As you met him in front of the van he reached out and took you by the hand, effortlessly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The sudden contact made your senses buzz and you found yourself more aware of everything about him. The difference in height, how you needed to crane to meet his eye. His scent, a mix of sweet notes you struggled to identify, maybe vanilla? Accentuated by a note of spice and of course, the lingering scent of weed in his van and on his clothes. You thought maybe you could get used to California after all. You may need to be available any time Mike wanted to visit El…

Argyle led you through the front door, the foyer and into the kitchen where he released his hold on you only long enough to open his refrigerator and grab two bottles of beer. He went to a small drawer beside the fridge for a bottle opener and motioned toward the back sliding door.

The pool was large, beside it sat a hot tub large enough for two. Ample seating lined the patio. He lead you to an outdoor couch near the hot tub and placed the bottles down, patting the seat beside him.

As you took the bottle he opened for you and tentatively sipped you could feel him watching you again.

“Am I an asshole if I say I’m glad Nancy bailed?”

You smiled at him, “If you are than so am I because I’ve been thinking that all day!”

He beamed back at you.

“So what’s your deal?” You ask him, “you just hang out with Jonathan all of the time or is there a Surfer Girl that usually shares your pizza?”

He laughed and grinned at you. “Nah man! We wouldn’t be here if there was. Girls here are just…I don’t know man. They’re kind of all about themselves, you know?”

His response made you smile softly.

He pulled another joint from his pocket and held it outstretched, you leaned forward and he placed the filter to your lips, offering a light with his other hand. He studied your face, the way your cheeks hollowed, lips puckered when you took a pull and he bit his lower lip.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to finding an heiress to this pizza throne though, if you know anybody!”

You laughed, plucking the joint from your lips, and smoke billowing from your mouth and nose. He took the joint from you and inhaled deeply, reveling in the joy on your face.

“I might know someone!” you replied.

“Cool!” he nodded.

He leaned back and stretched his arm over the back of the couch, and he seemed so relaxed that you had to wonder if anything ever bothered him. He wasn’t trying to pressure you, he was content to just be there in the moment and you found that, found him to be so beautiful.

You took another hit and felt yourself relax back into the couch as well, turned to face him, back leaning against the arm of the couch and one leg up, resting over his knees. He delicately stroked his thumb over your exposed leg and the high made every touch feel like it vibrated through you, directly to your core.

His palm flattened on your calve and he risked running it up to your hip, watching your expression for any hesitation. When he found no resistance he scooted his body closer to yours and turned himself toward you, leaning in so close you could feel his breath fan across your skin. Anticipation killing you, you offered a small nod to let him know you were accepting whatever he had to offer and he didn’t hesitate to close the gap.

His full lips pressed softly to yours. His long hair gingerly fell, almost tickling you wherever it touched. You melted in to the kiss and parted your lips to accept his tongue. His body pressed you into the couch and you brought your hands to rest on his chest, slipping beneath the open button down shirt he wore and resting on his tshirt.

You could stay here forever. Wrapped in this sweet boy, warm California breeze kissing your skin beside this pool. You didn’t know if it had been five minutes or five hours, you were so lost in him, but eventually he broke the kiss to trail sweet pecks across your jaw. He nuzzled into your neck, licking and sucking from your clavicle to your earlobe. Your head was spinning, every sensation better than the last.

Hawkins boys were not like this.

He finally broke away and his deep brown eyes met yours, checking in.

“Holy shit.” he breathed.

“Holy shit.” you agreed.

You both giggled at that. You felt like a love sick mess. How did this happen in one day?

“You want to go swimming, Bonita?” he grinned.

“I don’t have a suit…”

“I can check if we have anything inside?” he offered, sitting up.

Whether it was the top tier weed or the desire to make the most out of the week you would have with Argyle you didn’t know but something made you lose whatever inhibitions you may have had. You scrambled out from under him and took a few steps backwards toward the pool. Holding his eye you grasped the bottom of your tshirt and lifted it over your head, throwing it at him.

His jaw went slack as he took in your figure, standing in your bra and undoing your jean shorts, shimmying them down your thick thighs. He could feel his mouth begin to water and quickly shook himself from his daze. He stood up and immediately followed suit, shrugging the button down from his shoulders and discarding his tshirt.

You beckoned him with your finger as you turned and ran the rest of the way to the pools edge.

He lost his jogger pants along the way and caught up with you, wrapping his strong arms around you and leaning down to capture your lips.

Lost in the feeling of his skin against yours you were defenseless to him as he scooped you into his arms and tossed you into the pool.

You sputtered coming up in the tepid water and scowled as he laughed at you.

“You’re gonna pay for that!” you shout.

“Oh? What are you going to do?” he jumped in, splashing you again in the process. He surfaced and you swam to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support.

“You didn’t even know if I could swim.” You scowled. “You think we have a lot of water in Indiana?”

“Come on Bonita I would have saved you if you were in trouble!” he whispered. His gaze was adoring. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at you this way. “I’d do anything for you!”

You flushed at that, unable to respond with anything but a kiss.

You wrapped your legs around him, taking the opportunity to feel him with no resistance. You could feel him starting to get hard beneath the thin fabric of his boxers and you moaned into his mouth as his hands found your ass, pulling you more flush against him.

You laced your fingers into his long locks and tugged, making him lift his chin and expose his neck to you. You latched on to his pulse point and began licking, sucking deep bruises into his gorgeous tanned skin.

He groaned into your ear, “eso se siente tan bien, nena.” and it filled you with confidence, you pulled him closer to you with your legs and ground your pussy against his hard bulge, reveling in the power you held over him.

His hands traveled from their place resting on your ass and caressed the expanse of your back. He stopped at the latch of your bra and asked “can I take this off?”

You stopped your ministrations on his neck long enough to choke out “yes”, your hands beginning to roam and explore him freely.

He guided your bra straps off of your arms and cupped your full breasts in his large hands, caressing and massaging your supple flesh. He pinched your perked nipple, eliciting a moan from you and then brought his hands up the side of your neck and into your hair, pulling your face from his neck and making you meet his gaze again.

“Do you want to take this to my room?”

You had been enjoying this time, weightless with him, exploring him, but ultimately you needed more. You nodded and he brought you closer to the wall of the pool, boosting you out. The two of you all but ran to his room, stopping a few times along the way to kiss, embrace, playfully chase each other.

When you got to his room you didn’t know what you had been expecting but this fit him. It was warm, inviting, slightly musky. You didn’t have time to fully take it in before he embraced you, lifting you by your ass and falling into his bed with you.

You tried to regain control but he could so easily overpower you if he wanted. He brought your wrists above your head and kissed you deeply before descending to your neck, sucking gently, kissing across your collarbone, nipping at the sensitive skin of your breast and then taking your peaked nipple into his mouth. He teased with his tongue and sucked harshly and you didn’t even know if the sounds coming from you were coherent. His name spilled from your lips as his large hand cupped your aching cunt through your panties and he softly rubbed you through the cotton.

You scratched at his back and shoulders and thrust yourself into his fingers.

He rutted into your thigh and released your breast, traveling further down your body and stopping just as he reached your panties. His hands slid down your sides and took the elastic between his fingers, shooting a hesitant look your way and only continuing when you nodded your approval. He slid your panties down your legs, lifting your right leg and pressing sweet kisses from your ankle, up to your knee, nipping and sucking at the soft flesh of your thigh.

Your heart raced in anticipation of him finally reaching the place you wanted him the most.

He let his finger glide over your folds, spreading your lips, already slick and waiting for him. He gathered your juices and traced them up to draw soft circles over your throbbing clit. You squirmed beneath him and grabbed a handful of his hair bringing him closer. His lips replaced his fingers and sucked your delicate bundle into his mouth. Light pressure, delicate laps of his wide tongue.

You were reeling. You felt as though your body could levitate off of his bed with the electricity he was generating in you. He continued his skilled assault on your clit and you felt his finger gliding through your folds again. He pressed it into your heat and you gasped at the sensation, the stretch. You gushed around him and he gasped into you, losing focus for a moment with the feel of you, warm, soft and so incredibly tight on his finger.

“Argyle” you pleaded and he looked up, smirking to see you propped up and staring back at him, fucked out and dazed. “Come here.” you beckoned.

He slipped his finger from you and leaned up, meeting your lips. You cupped his face delicately.

“Roll over.” you requested. He did as you asked and you climbed on top of him, grinding your wet, needy cunt into him and eliciting a soft moan of your name from his plush lips. You wasted no time grabbing his boxers and he lifted himself to help you get them off. His thick cock sprang out from its confines and you could feel your mouth water, overcome with the urge to taste him. You lowered yourself between his legs and looked up, holding his gaze as you delicately licked up the underside of his length, swirling your tongue over his head, through his slit and collecting the sweet, salty precum you found there. He cursed, and you braced yourself, focusing on your breathing as you tried to take more of him into your mouth. You bobbed your head, swirling your tongue over him again and then taking even more of his length as you descended down on him again. One hand held you up, digging in to the meat of his thigh and you brought the other up to gently fondle his balls as you took him in again, again, further, deeper.

He was reduced to a whimpering mess beneath you as you worked his throbbing cock. You knew he wouldn’t be long if you kept this up.

You leaned up, releasing his cock with a pop of suction and once more laced your fingers into his hair, tilting his head up for a searing kiss.

He brought his arms around you and pulled you flush to his chest. You relaxed your weight down on to him and could feel his cock press against your waiting cunt. You couldn’t wait any longer for him to fill you to the brim.

“Do you want to fuck me, Argyle?”

“Fuck…yes, yeah I do.” he panted through labored breaths.

“I’m on the pill.” you whispered, shifting slightly and causing him to slip through your folds and glide against your dripping cunt. “Is this ok?” you ask, grinding down and gasping as his tip breaches you.

He nods, cupping your jaw and cheek in one large hand and bringing you in to meet his lips as you sink down on his length.

You both moaned into each other’s mouths as he bottomed out. You had never felt so full in your life. After a moment to adjust you began to grind yourself into him, his thick shaft stretching you. You bounced on his gorgeous cock and quickly found a rhythm with him bucking up to meet you. Pressure built in your core with each movement. His greedy hands exploring your body.

“Fuck, look at you hermosa. Taking me so well, it’s like that pussy was made for me.”

You clench around him with every word that falls from his beautiful lips and you lean back, bracing yourself on his thighs while his hands find your breasts again.

You’re close, you’re so close and you know he is too. The pressure builds in you until you break, toppling over the edge. You seize around his cock in waves of blinding pleasure, which in turn send him reeling and each clench of your cunt milks him dry.

You collapse on top of him a sweaty, panting mess. Your combined release slowly dripping out of you as he slips out. He holds you to his body, wiping the hair from your face and tucking it gingerly behind your ear. His expression once again adoring as he strokes your cheek.

He rolls you off of him and gets up, disappearing into his bathroom and returning a moment later with a soft towel.

He cleans you up and goes to his dresser, taking out a tshirt for you to wear. As you’re sat on the bed trying to redress yourself he kneels between your legs and catches you in another soft kiss.

“I have to go get our stuff from the pool. Can I keep you tonight or will Joyce like, freak out if you aren’t back?”

“Joyce has to pack for Alaska, I doubt she will even notice.” you smile, delighted he doesn’t want to immediately drive you home after getting what he wanted.

As he was passing through his door he looked back once more and hit you with a goofy, lovestruck smile that knocked the air from your lungs.

Yeah, you thought. Maybe this wasn’t a waste of spring break.

[heyangel28]

It’s Her Or Nothing ~ H.S

(Based on the song 'Good Luck Charlie" by Gracie Abrams)

Warnings: None x

Harry and his wife got into a major fight, with her storming out, Harry decided to ease some fire at a small bar downtown. While chatting with the tender Harry realises his worst nightmare is losing his wife and he immediately wanted to patch things up with the love of his life.

A/N: This is so short and I sincerely apologise, I literally have no motivation to write whatsoever and I’m experiencing a massive writers block episode at the moment so please give me suggestions or requests of what to write 🩷

Harry Styles

"You keep a picture of Audrey inside of your wallet, went for a drink and the bartender thought she was dead-”

I turn my wallet over on my hands, my elbows resting against the cold wood of the bar. An empty drink beside me. The Polaroid of her from last summer stares up at me, smiling happily into the camera, wearing a bright summer dress as we stand by a lake. All the memories of the moment come flooding back to my mind. The way she hid her face with her hand as I tried to take it, or the way she'd laugh and tell me to piss off as she peered over my shoulder at the developing picture. Then came the fight, the slamming of doors, the screaming, the crying. She packed her bags and left to go stay with her family. And it was all my fault.

“She's pretty, is she your girlfriend?" A voice snaps me out of my trance and I lift my head up to see the bartender. God she looks just like her, almost a splitting image.

"Oh uh..." I clear my throat and close my wallet over, sliding it back into my pocket. "My wife." I smile sadly up at the woman.

"She’s not with you tonight?”

I shake my head.

“What happened?"

"Oh I uh..." I take a breath and look down at the wood in front of me.

"I'm so sorry." I feel the bartender place a hand over mine on the counter, her face holding a small, comforting smile. "Grief can be hard, but just know that just because she's gone-" Her hand starts to move flirtingly up my arm until it reached my bicep and I can't help but feel the pit in my stomach.

I pull my arm away suddenly, taking a step back from her.

"She's not dead." I say quickly in a defensive tone. The bartender slowly pulls her hand away is if noticing my change in demeanour.

"I'm sorry...?" She blinks a couple times in surprise. "I thought you said-"

"She's not dead.” I defend. “I just-I made a mistake and I lost her. I swear I'm not some crazy idiot in a bar who thinks his dead girlfriend is still alive, I swear she is I just...God, I miss her so much." I sit back down at the bar, placing my head in my hands.

“-He made you live out that nightmare and you almost lost it-“

The bartender doesn’t say anything for a while, I guess it’s lot really in her expertise to comfort strangers. She clears her throat after a long moment of silence.

“You should call her.”

“What?” I lift my head up to look at her over the bar.

“Call her, you clearly miss her, that shows you still love her. I’m sure whatever mistakes you made she’ll forgive you and you can both move on.”

“I uh-“

“Here, you can borrow the bar phone.” She reaches down and picks up a wired phone from under the bar and places it in front of me on the counter. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

I take a deep breath and hesitantly reach my hand for the phone, dialling in my ex’s number and bringing it close to my ear, I could almost feel my hand shaking. As I was expecting it went to voicemail, I look up at the bartender who gives me a encouraging nod. I clear my throat.

“Uh hi, it’s me Harry. I just- I wanted to apologise for everything I did, it was stupid and I just don’t want to loose you over it. Please just…give me one more chance.”

There’s silence on the other end as her machine cuts off, I sigh and hand the phone back to woman.

“No luck?”

I shake my head.

“Don’t worry, she’ll come around eventually, us women always do.”

“Thanks, I’m just gonna head home.” I stand up from the stool I was sat on, grabbing my Joey and heading towards the door. As I exit the bar and make my way down the street and back home my own mobile rings in my pocket. Confused at who’s unrecognised number was calling me this late at night I pick it up, placing the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Harry? It’s me, your wife.”

[lachelledavies-winchester]

The hunter was impetuous and fiery, indulging in the fiercest lust, she went from moments of authority to docility, holding and then yielding control. He carried her to the couch, making her lean with her elbows against the backrest. He caressed her round ass before slapping it, returning to caress it with both hands, raising one buttock with his left to spread them apart and slapping her right again, then one, two, three more slaps until the first signs of redness began to appear. The woman moaned without restraint by now and began to massage her clitoris as she clearly felt the tip of the penis rubbing against the entrance of her vagina, then with a resounding moan enter and begin to thrust first slowly, then harder and more directly into the places that made her enjoy it most.

Lachelle looked up and saw that mass of muscle and smooth skin encircling and possessing her own body with its powerful arms, those calloused hands encircling her breasts and bouncing them, then cupping them to use as a handhold as she began to thrust her pelvis faster as her face displayed every facet of lust possible. She rested her gaze on his damned eyes and he did the same with his much-wanted ones, and there was an intense exchange of glances through the mirror, followed immediately by a hot spark that went straight to the core of pleasure. The man felt her tighten around him as she struggled to keep her eyes open and continue to hold his perverted gaze with confidence but could not hold back grimaces and moans of appreciation. He continued to pump, alternating the rhythm so as not to lose eye contact. 

" Do you like watching you take me so well? You're a sight, baby. Take it all, like that, good girl. " he praised her in a hoarse voice, and she let out more moans of pleasure.

He pulled himself up with his torso by standing straighter, pushed her over his shoulder with one hand to get her to bend more and reach deeper, then gathered her hair with two hands, pulling it back a little so she could look in the mirror again and admire her scarlet cheeks and boobs that rocked with each thrust. 

" You are so good, you take everything daddy gives you. "

Lachelle rested a hand on his thigh and moved her pelvis with him to help him find a rhythm that suited them both. When she felt him come less in his legs she helped herself with her hand to reach him and, to her surprise, his also came to the rescue until her legs trembled too from the pleasure flooding her.

" Oh my God it's four o'clock, what happened? " the woman asked when they had recovered, still lying on the small sofa in the corner of the messy room.

" Only one thing I'm sure of: it was great. " he answered her by putting his hand on her thigh. " You can't deny it. "

" I don't deny that. I just shouldn't have... Bobby cares about you and ... " she began and then sighed.

He watched her tie her hair and put her blouse back on, closing the middle buttons. 

" It all stays between us, you have my word. " he reassured her. " Also because tonight you brought out the worst in me or a part very ehmmm... " he added, smiling at her and moving her tail over her other shoulder to look at her better.

" It's just sex, I would never have allowed you to call me baby in any other context. " she said looking at him first serious and then smiling, and he returned the complicit look; they could understand each other well without speaking.

" Then I'll save it for next time. "

" There will be no next time. "

"I say yes."

" You say a lot of crap. "

For the whole chapter here:

[dandylovesturtles]

For the writer ask!

I’m intrigued by all of these but especially the podcast and the class of 2024 ones because they have the least amount of context clues, I would love some elaboration!

Class of 2024 is a one shot I intend to finish... sometime lol, when I have more time to get back to it. Here's a bit:

“If the damn Krang hadn’t invaded, I’d have been graduating in a few weeks.”

“Oh.” Donnie’s typing finally pauses, and he looks at her. Gives her his attention, and she loves him for it even while the practical part of her wants him to get back to whatever surely critical thing he was just working on. “I guess you would be. Assuming you graduated on time and didn’t have to repeat anything.”

She elbows him in the side, and even though she knows it doesn’t hurt him he jerks back. “I would have graduated on time, Dee.”

“I’m only covering our bases! We can’t know the counterfactual, after all.” She elbows him again.

“Donatello Hamato, you are the worst,” she tells him with all the fondness in the world.

His lips quirk up in a barely there smile. One of his battleshell arms extends and resumes typing, but he hasn’t looked back at it himself so she knows his main focus is still on her.

“Would you have gone to graduation?”

“Hm, probably. I mean, I don’t really care, but Mom-” She’d been about to say that her mom wants to go, present tense, and she just manages to stop herself. It’s crazy that it’s been two years, and still sometimes…

“...Mom would have thrown a fit if I skipped it,” she finally says, past tense, and she catches the way Donnie’s eyes cloud because he knows. God does he know.

They’re both orphans. She pushes the thought aside before she can let it erode all her carefully crafted walls.

“As would the rest of us,” says Donnie now, moving them straight past dangerous territory, and much as she hates that he dodges talking about emotions she appreciates it right now. It’s too damn late - or too early - for that. “You know how much fun we had sneaking into your high school graduation, surely you wouldn’t deny us the chance of a repeat.”

“Only if you promised not to bring the air horns.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Then consider your chance denied.”

As for the Podcast Sep AU, that's an idea that has grown out of this post I wrote awhile back, except I basically just kept "the boys meet online" and changed everything else about it haha. In this version, April and Donnie have a true crime podcast that theorizes about the mysterious disappearance of Lou Jitsu, and the other three listen to it regularly, and then miscellaneous things happen along the way. It's a bit more angsty and less of a comedy than my original idea because I am myself, though it's still largely intended to be lighthearted as far as separated AUs go.

uh I'll just put some of the notes I posted on discord under the cut:

LEO

Leo calls Hypno Papa or Pop and calls Warren Dad, unless he's being a brat then he calls him Warren (this happens daily tbh)

they lived for awhile off money they each individually had saved up (also maybe Hypno's ratty apartment is Rent Controlled) but eventually they had to start having an active revenue stream so they started stealing

Leo loves stage magic OBVI but he's especially good at sleight of hand tricks and close up magic

so he starts using those skills to pickpocket

his dads don't really like him doing this (mostly out of concern for his safety rather than ethics) but they also can't really stop him unless they confine him to the house and they don't really want to do that so v(._.)v BOYS WILL BE BOYS IG

he gives them most of the money but he keeps some for himself for comics or other random things he wants

when Leo was still pretty little Hypno watched some Lou Jitsu movies out of curiosity, he knew who Lou Jitsu was but had never really watched the movies himself

he likes them alright but they aren't really his thing

but Leo came in and was immediately enthralled by it and became a big fan

Hypno knows LJ is Leo's human "dad" but decides not to tell him because he thinks it will just make Leo sad that he got left behind, also Hypno and Warren aren't even sure if LJ and the other three turtles survived

anyway this is what starts Leo on being an LJ fan and why he eventually finds Donnie and April's podcast

MIKEY

Mikey calls Repo "Boss" pretty much all the time, and Repo mostly calls him kid, occasionally he'll call him Mike

Repo taught Mikey how to read and do basic math growing up but that's pretty much it

so Mikey learns a lot of things from the internet and A LOT OF IT IS NOT CORRECT this will drive Donnie crazy later

Mikey learned about Lou Jitsu from stumbling across some old dvds someone threw out and got interested that way

he spends a lot of his time making art in the junkyard when he's not working for Repo

Dr. Delicate Touch still comes out when he is helping Repo

Repo doesn't get mutated until the time he does in canon but when he does get mutated he's just kinda like "shrug" and moves on with life lol

Mikey thinks it's cool though

also Mikey is a little greasy gremlin child 100% of the time, this will also drive Donnie crazy later

DONNIE

initially I thought April's dad would be out of the picture for whatever reason but I decided he's still here he just works overseas/out of town a lot

when April brought Donnie to Mama O'Neil she called Papa O'Neil like "hey I found a baby and I'm keeping him"

Papa was like ????? so she took a pic with a digital camera and uploaded it and sent it to him because that's what we did in 2005

Papa like that is a wholeass frog

she explained the situation and he was like OKAY GUESS WE HAVE A GREEN SON NOW he was chill with it though

they committed light identity fraud so technically Donnie has a birth certificate and is enrolled in online school

Donnie still invents but he doesn't have the space for it like in canon and also Mama will come after him if he sets anything on fire or explodes anything so a lot of his stuff is smaller atm, but he's been scoping out places he can use as a lab in secret for bigger projects recently

he's also a twitch streamer who uses a video filter over video of his own face to make his movements look more stiff and plasticy and he passes himself off as a vtuber this way

he cheats a lot

April also streams and she gets annoyed by this lol

they both became fans of Lou Jitsu when they were younger and they often traded conspiracy theories about what happened to him

then after binging one or two true crime podcasts they were like HEY WE CAN DO THAT TOO

RAPH

Splinter really is trying his best ok

he's SUPER DEPRESSED that he lost the other kids, especially Donnie and Mikey because like Leo getting lost in the lab explosion is one thing, realistically he can't really help that, but he left the kids alone when he lost Donnie and Mikey and that haunts him forever

he told Raph he was the only one who survived the lab explosion but Raph has very very vague memories of not being alone, then suddenly being alone

he doesn't push it with Splinter but he just has a feeling his siblings are out there

even if he doesn't remember it, this had a bad effect on him and he has a hard time being alone now

of course as Raph's gotten old enough to take care of himself, Splinter has become more distant/more depressed, he loves Raph of course but he's also going through it

Raph trains himself a lot with this idea that he's going to go out and be a hero and maybe even find his brothers, but his anxiety makes it hard for him to actually leave the lair for more than to get groceries or things like that

also Splinter and Raph's lair is like way more dilapidated and not very cozy with no Donnie to help with the mechanical side of things

it's like the most bummer bachelor pad ever in here, they have a mini fridge and it's full of sauces

Raph occasionally gets seen by maintenance workers from a distance so there's all kinds of rumors about him and he's the local cryptid, not that he realizes this (the others will be excited when they put this together)

Raph is just really lonely all the time and when he meets the others through the podcast it's the first time he finds community ;w;

[betweenthings2]

okay right. it is Fic Ask time 🙂‍↕🙂‍↕🙂‍↕ YAHOO greatest fears, wringing hands, loudest silence here i come. also sorry this is a little late !! if ur birthday was before i sent this then i hope u enjoyed and if its after then i also hope u enjoy !!! ☺️☺️

"I-" Matty chokes on a sob, "I'm gonna do it, George. I think I'm gonna do it."

never write another word again or i fear you may kill me. GOOD GOD. :( <- me atm

"I've heard it doesn't hurt--do you think that's true?" Matty asks. In the background, George can hear the sound of packaging being opened and George knows.

I FEEL SICK. no it is Not true matthew stop pls im gonna start sobbing. george knows :(((

"Sorry," Matty mumbles. "Sorry for botherin' you."

okay well 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i actually forgot how sad this is. i blocked it out the same way womens bodies supposedly do after pregnancy. i am going to SCREAM AND CRY

Matty is quiet for a moment, then he says, "Do you think it'll stain the grout? Will my mum be upset I ruined the tile, do you think?"

ohhhh the way hes more worried about how she'll react instead of worrying about himself:(( my chest hurts pls

"There's so much, G," Matty says, something like awe in his voice. "Do you think my mum will be upset?"

google how do i be normal. i genuinely might just sob. :(( i just can't get over how u managed to get that. like. the sort of innocence to it ??? like hes so out of it he cant understand it properly Ohhhhhh :(((

OH THE LETTER NO NO NO NO NO

You deserve something.

i am going to explode thank you

I don't think I'm meant to make it, G. It's ok, though. It's been good. You made it good, but I'm tired and I'm sad and everything hurts.

there are no words in the english language i could possibly use to describe how this hurt me

I know this is happening to you, not me, not really, not anymore.

YOUR DEATH IT WONT HAPPEN TO YOU IT HAPPENS TO YOUR FAMILY AND YOUR FRIENDS 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 i just absolutely cannot comprehend how you put so much sadness into this. im going to sob

And then George is ugly crying in the waiting room. It's big, heaving sobs and it's all he can do to get himself outside so he doesn't bother anyone. Dimly, he thinks that this is the worst day of his life, then immediately tells himself off for feeling sorry for himself when he doesn't even know if Matty is still alive and if he is, then he's somewhere alone and hurting and instead of being there for him, George is feeling sorry for himself.

i had to put my phone down after reading this paragraph and go and scream silently at my cat over it. this pain transcends species. :((((((((( the way uve gotten the idea that it just makes everyone feel shit and then they feel bad for feeling shit and just OHHHHH. ☹️☹️☹️

Regardless of the semantics, Matty looks peaceful. His arms are wrapped in gauze from wrist to elbow, there's an IV in the back of his left hand, and he connected to several other machines, but he looks peaceful, like he's getting long neglected rest.

i need this tattooed like you know how some people get ones that go around their arms all the way like a bracelet im gonna do that but ill do it somewhere that can fit this entire paragraph and im gonna show it to every single person i meet. what the fuck. peaceful ohhhhh what if i sob. ive also been seeing a lot of stuff about divine machinery or whatever it is and this made me think of that? just the image of him in a bed with wires all going to him . im going to explode

"I should say that to you," George counters. "You were going to make me listen to you die."

☹️ I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS

"Why couldn't you just let me die?" Matty repeats. "'s not like I'm worth it. I'm not worth it, G. You'll be better without me. You'll all be better without me."

tears in my stupid gay real person fiction painted eyes. u cannot just WRITE THAT oh my GOD. ☹️☹️☹️ they will most definitely not be better without u matty pls :(

"You say that," Matty says, his voice thick, "but you don't mean it. You don't want me around when I can't get out of bed, or when I can't seem to stop talking, or when I loose things and double book myself and forget we had plans and give up on things 'cause they're not interesting anymore, or when I try to control everything, or when I fuck something else up, 'cause I will, or-"

my heart hurts. i just cannot deal with this. im going to be in a hospital bed in a minute Oh this is so :((((((

It takes a while, but eventually, George scrubs the blood from the tile, revealing the stains on the tile and grout. Kneeling there, slightly sweaty from the frenzied scrubbing and on the verge of tears, George remembers Matty's worries about the grout. Suddenly it's so ridiculous that George has to laugh and a bird's eye view of himself pops into his head and he has to laugh harder. When he dissolves into tears he'd tried so hard to fight, he starts scrubbing the floor again, but the stains are stuck, so he gives up. It's only when George is done in the bathroom and he goes to leave that he realizes that there are more boot prints through Matty's room and across the plush cream colored carpeting Denise had put in as soon as Louis wasn't a toddler anymore. George doesn't have it in him to clean that, too.

hey so did you know i actually cannot deal with this. i just cannot. the grrroooouuuuuttttttt :((((((

The third thing is that Matty is retrained.

:(

"Matty's not violent."

MATTYS NOT VIOLENT 😭😭😭 crying into my latte pls omfg. the way he sees him at his best even when its probably wrong IM GONNA CRY

"Still," Matty protests. "I didn't want you to see the mess I made."

my cat got in the way of me reading this and now she has my chin on her back and is 'reading' along with me. maybe i shouldve chosen something happier. character development. anyway i am Losing my fucking mind oh good god

Matty raises his eyebrows, saying, "Who knew that's what it took for you to start yelling?"

matty brings out the best and worst in him and its making me sick. OJ MYCGOD

I was gonna take pills, but it was right there and I've heard it doesn't hurt if you use something sharp enough, so I called you, and I wanted you to be the last person I talked to."

THIS IS NOT OKAY I AM NOT OKAY NOTHING IS OKAY NOTHING WILL EVER BE OKAY EVER AGAIN. :((((((( i cant even explain how this affects me

"I spent an hour and a half last night trying to bleach your blood from your bathroom tile," George continues, "and the only thing I see when I close my eyes is what it looked like when I got there and bloody fucking tracks across your mum's nice carpet and you, in a fucking casket, and all I can think is that everyone failed you and that I failed you, and I love you, Matty, and I know everything's kinda a mess in your head and I know it's not about me, but please, for just a minute, think about the people who love you."

i cant put into words what im feeling while reading this but just know this is what i look like

I CANNOT FUCKING DEAL

"I'm gonna fight for you," George says, a little softer. "Why can't you fight for you, too?"

"I don't have the energy to fight," Matty answers quietly.

"Will you let me?"

OH WHAT THE FUCK CAN WE STOP THIS. IM GOING TO SCREAM. u put So much. sad. into ur writing. and its so impressive. i am going to explode. will u let me THERES TEARS. STOP (do not)

George wants to yell at them, tell them that sedating Matty doesn't solve anything, that he's small enough that he's not a threat to anyone, that sedation is half of Matty's problem. George doesn't say anything, just watches.

SMALL ENOUGH TGAT HES NOR A THREAT RO ANYOEN STOP THIS MADNESS IMMEDIATELY. OH MY GOD 😭😭😭😭😭 i actually need to see a doctor im going insane

Sometimes, they all go together and it breaks George's heart to watch Matty trying so hard to be himself for his brother. At some point, Matty's stitches get removed, but the cuts are still red and angry and tender and Matty opts for long sleeves so no one sees them, himself included.

. tears in my eyes .

this is not okay

im going to die

"himself included" :((((( im unwell

"Did you, did they, at the hospital did you, uh-" Matty cuts himself off.

"Did they give me your note?" George fills in.

im feeling very normal about this. the most normal. oh my god. i feel like this emoji ☹️ i CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS

"It broke my heart," George admits.

READING THIS IS BREAKING MINE ☹️ sob sob sob sob sob im going to explode

"You think my life is worth saving," Matty continues, slowly.

i genuinely might start sobbing. death and destruction and pain and OH MY GOOOODDDDDDDD 😭😭😭

George would want to wake up like this forever if Matty didn't look so vacant.

there used to be a heart in my chest but its since shrivelled up and DIED. this is for real going to kill me. pls im SAD ☹️ i love this so much

"Mostly that I really, really love you," Matty mumbles, sheepish. "And about what we talked about last night."

☹️ he loves george so much it makes me SICK. and u know what else makes me sick. how sad. this fic. is making me. but in a good way. im so obsessed im going to CRY

Matty gives a minute shake of his head and says, "I don't wanna do this anymore. I don't wanna wake up and fucking brush my teeth and, and try so hard to do everything right and be enough and still fucking fail. I'm tired, George and the meds make it worse and everyone looks at me like I'm about to lose it and my mum keeps fucking apologizing and I've got these fucking scars that I'm gonna have forever and everyone will know how fucked up I am."

screaming crying throwing up im going to my library and telling them about you and making them tell everyone that comes in about you. this is terrible for my heart but so wonderful for every other part of me. my heart hurts. i love this so much

Matty shakes his head again. "You just look sad."

:((((((((( he just looks sad :(((((((((

"It's fucking hideous. And I did it to myself," Matty argues. "I cut myself. And then I tore the fucking stitches out. Who does something like that?"

im printing this and binding it or like sticking it to my walls and making it into a poster. oh my FUCKING GOD this is so sad and ohsjkwkdmdxkewkdkoeod i need to be SEDATED

Matty groans, ever the dramatic, but agrees, "Fine."

:'))) he still has parts of himself left :'))) he might be terrible mentally but he is Still Matty !!!

Years from now, when they're sitting in a house George has cleaned top to bottom, in a kitchen where the strongest thing is a single pack of ibuprofen and even the cooking wine has been thrown out in the wake of Matty's time in rehab, George will tell Matty of this victory. Matty will cry and apologize and cry some more, and George will hold him and try not to think about the scars, silvery and faded, on Matty's forearms.

I ACTUALLY CANNOT COPE WITH THIS. !??!??!?!??!?!??! how do you just Casually say the most...beautiful sentences...and act like its the same as any other. im in AWE of you. !!!!!!! so sad !!! so happy !!!!!! so !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In one of the fights that will become more frequent in the coming months, Denise will yell at Matty about how much it cost to have the carpeting and bathroom tile replaced.

DENISE...BE NICE...STOP. im gonna die. oh my god pls no sTOP IT

"Am I," he pauses, "am I gonna be ok? I think I wanna be ok."

fighting demons to Not Cry atm. oh my god. i am. just. oh my god. :( he wants to be okay :(

Matty keeps wearing long sleeves and George can't help but be afraid that Matty break if he's not gentle enough.

never speak again or you Will kill me. oh my god. the way he loves him makes me die inside but in a happy way. do u get the vibe. i hope u get the vibe. i love this in a way that only Vibes can convey

This isn't Matty from before, but it isn't the Matty that wrote the suicide note George can't bring himself to throw out.

hi what the fuck. this is gorgeous and i need it engraved in marble under like. a carving of you or something. oh my FUCKING GOD i swear im putting this somewhere idk where but its going SOMEWHERE

They're sharing a joint and hiding out in Matty's bedroom when he speaks up.

i know its sad and all but this is making me so soft. like. its so intimate i just love it so much :((( sharing a joint even when theyre meant to go on some huge tour ohhhhhh my HEART HURTS. also the image of teeny tiny mini matty being so sad ??????? stop ??????? pls i didnt realise he was meant to be that young im :(((((

this is the most wonderful thing ive ever read and it genuinely should be shown to everybody who even knows what suicide is or something. just everybody. i love it so much and u HAVE to know how amazing it is like omg. i also just realised i didnt give it kudos the first time ?? past me was a little freak. i did like it though i remember that, i think i was just shy, anyway, its amazing and u have to know that. ok. enjoy the rest of ur birthday month and think lots about sad matty i love u u are the best

Fic thoughts!! Thank you so much! My actual birthday was unexciting--I just went to class--but I'm seeing Charli xcx soon and it's still birthday season, so I think that counts for something =)

Anyway, fic time!

Poor fictional!Matty--he's so desperate and scared--and poor fictional!George, hearing him like that =(

George knows!!! !!!! He knows but he doesn't want to know but he can't make himself not know!! They are so very, very tragic.

Fictional!Matty thinks he's a bother!!! He just wants a little bit of comfort in the end from fictional!George, but he still just thinks he's a bother.

He's still so sure he's a bother and the problem =(( Fictional!Matty is just trying to stop being the problem and here he is, certain he's causing another one.

(If I knew how to be normal I would tell you, unfortunately, this fic came from my little head, so normal is kind of out of the question.) However. Fictional!Matty is mostly impressed that he managed to do it and impressed that all of the blood was inside him. He's lost too much blood to be logical about anything, but he's impressed with himself.

The letter!! Fun fact, the letter was almost not a part of this fic because I didn't know how to write it.

Fictional!George does deserve something! He deserves everything, fictional!Matty just doesn't know how to give it.

Hurt was the goal, if I'm being honest. Sorry. I'm glad it worked, but sorry.

I will admit, "I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes)" was very much the foundation of the letter. Fictional!Matty knows he's not the one it's happening to, but he just doesn't know what else to do.

Poor, poor fictional!George =( =( He's so in love and he thinks he might have just lost the person he loves and it really is the worst day of his life, but what about fictional!Matty? What's happening to him? This is probably the worst day of his life, too. (I hope you and your cat have recovered. My goal was never to upset anyone's pets.)

Poor, poor fictional!George that this is how fictional!Matty looks peaceful. And the divine machine is such a good concept!! I'll be thinking about that for the foreseeable future =) and oh my god, tattoo my writing on you? That's too much of a compliment. I don't know what to do.

I think this fic could boil down to poor fictional!George. He was going to have to listen to fictional!Matty die!! They're so sad.

It could also boil down to poor fictional!Matty, too. He's so convinced everyone would be better without him and fictional!George doesn't know what to do about it =(

Fictional!Matty hates himself so much and he absolutely cannot reconcile the fact that fictional!George loves him so much. He can't help but think fictional!George is blind.

The grout!!! There's a piece of writing advice floating around out there that essentially amounts to the bigger and more dramatic the thing you're writing about, the smaller the thing you focus on should be as a demonstration of how big that thing is. Suicide and self-loathing are massive things to tackle, the grout is a near microscopic demonstration.

Love that my typo on restrained is committed to memory now. Anyway, fictional!Matty is restrained! He's a danger to himself!!!

The only person fictional!Matty has any kind of violence for is himself!!

I hope your cat is doing ok =/ Tragedy can be build character, maybe. I am of the opinion that tragedy is good for us, actually.

Fictional!M+G are the best and the worst of each other, I would argue. They have, in this fic, loved each other nearly as long as they've been real people. Of course they bring out the best and worst in each other. That's what they are.

Fictional!Matty is so, so certain he's been horribly selfish, but fictional!George is so ridiculously grateful he was able to save his life. Fictional!Matty is also terminally curious, so of course he'd want to know if it really hurt. (He hoped it wouldn't--he doesn't handle pain well--but it did.)

I would tell you what I looked like writing this, but I cannot remember what I was thinking when I wrote this, but again, poor, poor fictional!George. He's angry, but he's pretty sure he doesn't have the right to be, but god, he is.

I will never stop writing angst. Of all the things I'm actively working on (so many, so, so many), there are about three that aren't angsty, two of which are smut. So. There will be so much more angst.

Fictional!Matty is little tiny! The orderly could just put fictional!Matty over his shoulder and carry him out but he doesn't!! Ahhhh

Fictional!Matty still hates himself, hates what he's done to himself. Fictional!George wouldn't tell him, but he hates seeing the scars, too, so he's not going to complain about the long sleeves, just grieve everything that's happened.

The letter! Originally, they were just going to have a conversation about it here, but then I actually wrote it, so they're just sad here.

Fictional!George probably needs therapy after this--he's so sad, endlessly sad, but at least fictional!Matty is alive.

Fictional!Matty is there, but he's not really there, but at least he's sort of there =(

Fictional!Matty loves fictional!George so much!! He just might hate himself more.

Tell everyone in the library about my sad fics?!?! I am very touched, but that might be too much--I'm just some guy. But, hopefully my next fic hurts less.

They're just sad!!!!

Poor fictional!Matty is angry now, too. He hates what he's done to himself and literally all he can do is live with it. =(

He's still himself! That's what makes it worse for fictional!George--it would be easier if fictional!Matty was just. absent, but he's not and it's heartbreaking.

They will ever, ever escape this. They will live under the shadow of this one thing forever because fictional!Matty will literally bear the scars forever.

Fictional!Denise doesn't know what to do with this either!! Fictional!Matty just fights with her in a way that he doesn't with fictional!George. In his defense, living with your parents in your early twenties is a little bit rough sometimes.

Fictional!Matty wants to try, he just doesn't know how!!

I do get the vibe!! It's a good vibe!!

I do not know what the fuck, I'm sorry. I do know that fictional!George will never throw the letter away. Fictional!Matty will find it at some point, ten or fifteen years down the line, and he'll read it and cry, and then fictional!George will find him and then they'll cry together.

They're so young!! They're too young for this, too young to figure out how to cope with this, but they have to. They have to and maybe that's biggest tragedy of it all!

Here's a fun fact that's maybe not very fun--this fic was originally going to titled "Call Your Mom," because that's the song that inspired it, but it didn't seem quite right when I finished it.

Thank you so much for reading and your thoughts and all the compliments!! I'm so touched and I promise I'm actively working on the fictional!George in a skirt fic.

[thesmokingguns]

Off To the Races

Pairing: Nikki Sixx!Douglas Booth

Request: Off To The Races by Lana Del Rey

Summary: You are my one true love. She is there for him at all of his worst moments. Coaxing him through his high, making him smile and laugh. She’s at parties dancing with her red smile calling for him. She’s swimming in the pool when he’s drunk and stoned. She’s there through it all. No ones loved Nikki like her. All consuming. His only thought. She is his entire world. And his works is crumbling.

Warning: Heavy themes of drug use, drug induced hallucinations, alcohol abuse, suicidal thoughts.

Word Count: 2270

Taglist: @littlemisscare-all​​​​​ @ayablackwood​​​​​ @agroupiewhore@thenobodies-inc​​​​​ @dannasixxworld​​​​ @val-sixx​​​​@nikkisqueenofsleaze​​​​ @rocknrollsoul76​ @aggressive-slytherin​

My old man is a bad man, but

I can't deny the way he holds my hand

And he grabs me, he has me by my heart

He doesn't mind I have a Las Vegas past

He doesn't mind I have a L.A. crass way about me

He loves me, with every beat of his cocaine heart

My eyes are heavy, fingers twisting the belt around my arm to loosen the pressure. The needle drops to the floor, the carpet holding any sound in. Blinking, looking around the cramped closet I see my journal, my revolver, and more smack for after this dosage.

What a life.

My head rolls back smacking the wood paneling with a dull thud that vibrates through me. My hands shaking, waves of fingers in front of me. There’s a bit of blood coming from the injection pin prick in my arm and I’m find myself stumbling to my feet, sweeping the gun off the floor and tucking it in the waistband of my jeans as I head to the bathroom.

It’s washing over me, the feeling I’m always chasing. The fleeting moment of happiness is like a warm blanket wrapping itself around me.

The giggle stops me in my tracks, eyes searching the hallway searching for her. I thought she had left after our last fight. She called me a quitter and was mad I was giving up my partying ways. She loved to have a good time and she thought I was giving up on her.

Guess she was wrong.

The flash of brown hair catches my attention and I’m stumbling, laughing as I chase her through the house. Her laughter was infectious and made me forget about the blood dripping down my forearm.

In the kitchen she turns, giving me that megawatt smile that felt like my heart was feeling something other than the melancholy that usually filled it. She stops and lets me catch her, letting me wrap my arms around her holding her close to me. Smelling the exotic sweetness of her hair as she engulfs me with her golden skin, bangles tinkling down her arms like a musical number.

Safe and warm, happiness and euphoria of her presence with me here. The place that was my Mecca of solitude. Pulling back, confused for a second I try to think about how she got here.

“How did you get in?” As if she senses the confusion in my voice she kisses me, giving me no doubt she is here with me. Warm and solitude against my skin, fire in my veins.

“You let me in.” She purred, letting her mouth kiss along my jawline. Soft hot breath tickling me as she pressed against me, bumping the gun as she rolled her body against mine. “It looks like you’re locked and loaded, ready to go.” Her hands in my hair as she’s touching parts of me I forgot existed.

God I missed this.

Swimmin' pool glimmerin', darling

White bikini off with my red nail polish

Watch me in the swimmin' pool, bright blue ripples

You sittin', sippin' on your Black Cristal, oh yeah

Light of my life, fire of my loins

Be a good baby, do what I want

Light of my life, fire of my loin

I wake up with a gasp.

What time is it? What day is it? Where am I?

Looking around, frantic panic as I realize I’m asleep in the lawn chair by the pool. An empty bottle of Jack Daniels is smashed beside me, glass decorating the concrete in sharp glares of warning.

The sound of a splash throws me off and there she is. Her brown hair wet as she rests her elbows outside the pool, placing her head in her hands with that gleaming smile.

“Well hello sleepyhead. Did you have good dreams?” I don’t know if she’s asking out of kindness or mocking me. I’m drenched in sweat, possibly from falling asleep in the LA afternoon but most likely from the night terrors that always haunt me.

I dreamt I was running. From who or from what was the issue. Everything in my brain was foggy. My eyes snapped up at the setting sun. Has it been a full day already? Was it longer?

The phone rang from inside the house and I knew it must be someone from the band calling or my drug dealer. One of those felt more important than the other and I wasn’t ready to admit which one that was.

I got up, swearing as a piece of glass cut open my door, glaring as she giggle and dipped under the water. A trail of blood followed me into the house as I picked up the phone.

“Hello.” My voice felt gruff and it hurt to talk, like I hadn’t used it in a while. My head was killing me and I felt ready to throw up.

What the fuck had I been doing?

“Jesus Nikki, we’ve been trying to reach you for a week.” A week? I had lost hours, maybe a day here and there but a whole week. Jesus Christ. “Are you okay man? Why don’t you come out tonight with us?” Tommy was begging me and I sighed.

I was embarrassed. I didn’t want everyone to see me when I had been on a bender. I hadn’t seen what I looked like yet but I was sure that it was like hell.

“I don’t know, T-Bone. I think I have the flu or something. I just don’t feel great.” It wasn’t exactly a lie.

Something fluttered beside me and there she was. A white dress on her thin frame. How had she dried off and changed so quickly? Was I loosing more time? Eyes shining as she held out a silver platter of white powder. She loved to party and must have known that my band would want to see me out. At least if I was doing coke with them they didn’t have to worry about finding me dead.

“Where are you going to be?” I relented, watching her twirl. The energy coming off her was exhilarating and I wanted to join her in the ever present state of delight.

My nose was down against the lines, snorting messily, my brain burning, eyes widening as I sniffed a few times to get the whole lot out of my nose. Wiping and then turning to her.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and ready to go out on the town.” She was leading me to the bathroom. My blood rushing everywhere as I was alive and awake and fucking ready to party.

I need you to come here and save me

I'm your little scarlet, starlet, singin' in the garden

Kiss me on my open mouth

Ready for you

Why had I agreed to go to a club?

In the booth we had a mess of drugs, pills and coke scattered on the table like appetizers. Bottles of booze and half empty beer bottles added to the maze of debauchery.

How long have I been here?

I couldn’t remember driving or even getting to the club. All I could remember was hands all over me in the shower, washing the filth off myself. The gentle voice reminded me to wear long sleeves to hide my track marks.

My eyes searched for her. In the sea of women I was sure she would stand out. But all the flashing lights and the noise was confusing me.

The room was spinning, the conversation around me overwhelming me and I could feel Tommy’s hand on my back. My head rolled back, the club's lightning needed to be updated.

A hand was smacking my face and I saw Tommy, wide eyed, looking at me before I turned to the table, throwing up the only thing I had in my body. Brown liquid shot out, mixed with the acid in the stomach. It didn’t stop for what felt like a full minute.

When I finished, puke leaking down in steady droplets to the floor I grabbed a beer tang I had missed and chugged the foamy substance down. I tried not to make eye contact with the people giving us disgusting sneers.

“Oh baby, why don’t you let me take you home? Let me take care of you.” Her hands wrapped around me and I turned, nodding. Confused looks from everyone as I climbed out, reaching for her to take me back into the safety of her arms.

Light of his life, fire of his loins

Keep me forever, tell me you own me

Light of your life, fire of your loins

Her fingers were in my hair as I laid on her lap. The fire from my lighter hitting my pipe as I inhaled and exhaled the sweet delight.

Freebasing in my closet. But at least I wasn’t alone. I had her with me and that changed my usual mood of wanting to slit my wrists or press the gun against my head and pulling the trigger. Painting the inside of my closet with bits of skull fragments and blood-

“Come back to me.” Her voice was lulling me out of the dark place, pressing against my temples and using the magic of her voice to help me. She was the only one that was always there for me. Always making me feel better and dragging me from the pain of my life. Holding me in her arms, compassion and understanding.

She never judged me.

“Have we been here long?” She knew I liked to keep my responsibilities. I wanted to keep my appearance as the rockstar. I couldn’t let anyone know how bad that it had gotten. How I couldn’t stop. How doing drugs was the best part of my life. My one true love.

Except her. She was the one thing I loved more than drugs.

“You have band practice in a few hours.” She reminded me. Her voice was steady and calm, fingers running through my hair and keeping me calm as I took another hit.

I just needed a little more time before I could see anyone. Just a little more time in the closet with her holding me before going out into the world.

“Nikki, don’t let them tell you to give me up. I love you Nikki. Aren’t I the only one who has always been there for you? No one else cares for you like I do. They see you as a rockstar or as a junkie. But I see you. I see you.” Her words promised and I nodded my head, agreeing with her words. She was still so calm, even with the edge to her voice. The words stuck with me.

She saw me and I saw her too.

I'm sorry that I'm misbehaving

I'm your little harlot, starlet, Queen of Coney Island

Raisin' hell all over town

Sorry 'bout it

I didn’t want to go to band practice. I didn’t want them to see my shaking hands or ask my stupid fucking questions that didn’t matter.

At least she had agreed to go with me. Her brown hair wrapped in one of those silky driving scarfs like the 1960s, big sunglasses to hide the hangover in her eyes that she was surely feeling after we had partied. Her hand was on his lap, keeping him steady as he drove to the practice space.

Walking inside, I hide my eyes behind big sunglasses, I could feel the sweat glistening like a second skin on my body. Anxiety crippling me as I licked my lips wanting to get back to my house.

My eyes followed her, watching her move around the instruments shooting me a smile as she ran her hands down my bass. I couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Yo, Nikki, are you okay?” Tommy’s voice made me turn away from her nodding as I sat down hard on the couch. I had never brought a girl to practice before so I was sure they were surprised to see her. To see me so happy with someone.

“Come here.” I held my arms open, watching her smile as she bounced towards me twisting around the guys as they watched me. The brunette plopped down on my lap and I held her close looking out at them.

“What are you playing at?” Vince asked, the confusion was written across his face and I felt angry. Vince had been parading chicks through band practice for years. And now he was acting like this? Fucking asshole.

“Cmon, show her some respect, dicks.” She was shifting in my arms holding onto me and purring sweet words in my ears, my eyes closing and only coming awake when Vince kicked my shin.

“Show who respect?” My eyes went up to look at her but she was glaring at them. Her eyes were on fire as if she was protecting me from the band.

“Nikki, we should go. Let’s go home and I’ll take care of you. You don’t need this. I don’t need this. This was a bad idea, Nikki. A very bad idea.” She was getting up tugging at me to leave.

“My girl.” I was standing gesturing at her beside me, watching the way her dark eyes were slits now. Anger so clear as she tried to wrap herself around me and get me away from them.

They sat there, no one saying a word as they looked at each other and than a me. I turned to look at her, panic was there as she stepped forward touching my face, my eyes closing at the sweet caresses from her fingers. My skin feeling alive like bristling fire under her touch

“It’s me and you Nikki. Don’t forget how I love you. I love you always. No judgement. No-“

“Nikki, no ones there.” Tommy’s voice came out soft and I turned to look from her to him, feeling the slender hand slip out of mine. I went to tell her to wait but she was gone.

Whirling around I saw it was just the band in the space, no mystery brunette anywhere in sight. I collapsed on the couch gripping my hair as my teeth gnashed together.

This was the furthest it had come. The lowest point of my drug addiction. In my loneliness I had created a woman out of heroin. Someone to make me feel less alone when I shot up.

I created love through a needle and that was when I knew I needed to stop if I ever wanted to love anything again.

I'm not afraid to say that I'd die without him

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?

I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!

[skiyoosmi]

post-break up heartaches

⤷ verse 2. in the dreams that we once shared

⤷ miya osamu, bokuto koutarou

⤷ verse 1 | verse 3

⤷ play. sorrow by sleeping at last, wrong direction by hailee steinfield

commissions: open

⇢ OSAMU stays still in his seat, melancholic eyes contrasting your bright ones while you twirl around in the middle of the ballroom. he admits, your dream wedding gown fit your figure perfectly as it flowed so gracefully the more you moved. but no beauty can compare to the happiness on your face as you danced with his previous volleyball teammate; the latter having a small smile on his face, not even having a single care about the funny looks you've been getting from your distant relatives. despite the minimal expression he adorns, to someone who has known him for a long time, it's clear as day just how ecstatic suna rintaro was to declare you as his wife, just as you were to call him your husband.

that could've been us, his mind screams all throughout the time he's been in the wedding ceremony, that could've been him dancing with you. he remembers little by little— how those smiles and laughters used to be solely for him whenever you try out his new recipes, from tasty to funny, how he used to be the one suddenly dragged to dance with you, how you used to dream of being married to him. him and only him.

but time was a cruel thing. he should've known better than to keep you waiting for more than so many years with nothing but empty and broken promises. i'll be done soon, yn, you know how much this means to me, this is my dream we're talking about here. stop being selfish please— he recalls himself telling you. he fails to see the disappointment and hurt that cross your eyes, fails to protect the already fragile relationship as you say your goodbye's to him a few more arguments and weeks later— i'm sorry for holding you back, samu. make sure to reach your dreams, okay?

i'm sorry. no matter how many times he says it, your fate was already done with him. you only needed him and he couldn't even give you that.

"hey there, stranger. wanna dance for a bit?"

he looks up, blinded by your brightness that almost seemed as if it mocked his sappy mood but he nods nevertheless, taking your hands as you pull him to the dance floor. in his peripheral view, he sees suna give him a wholehearted smile.

"you should stop frowning. it doesn't suit your face you know? what did you do to my lively samu?" you huff after a few minutes of nothing but silence and awkwardness while you swayed side to side with him, pouting when he shrugs, "you're such a gloomy ass! are you still in love with me or something?"

you swear it was supposed to be a joke, something to lighten the air between you two. but how were you supposed to laugh when he replied to you in the way you least expected?

"yeah, actually, i still am."

silence engulfed the two of you as you tried to overcome your shock. and for all the years he has been with you, it was painfully obvious that the answer he hopes for will not come. not now, not ever.

"samu... it's been—"

"i know. almost 8 years, is it? i know but i can't help it, yn. how could i when you're literally all i see everywhere i look?"

you fail to give him back a reply and (un)fortunately, he feels a tap on his shoulder and immediately, he knew it was time. he lets go of your waist and turns around, heart ready to get drowned by the bitter wine he's planning to drink all throughout the night, accompanied by the tears he won't be able to let out until he comes back to his hotel room.

"congratulations on your wedding, yn."

he ignores the hollowness inside him brought about by the unfinished conversation and goes back to his seat and repeats it like a mantra: not all fairytales get their happy ending.

and much to his dismay, his was one of those that don't.

⇢ BOKUTO was a star, luminous and blinding yet always longing to be part of the galaxy that held the awe of many other people. he was a child with dreams that wander all over the world and with confidence, he wants hear it, see that same world cheer for him.

he was an enormous star but his dreams were even bigger— and as he reaches out his hand to take more of what the universe can give him, he unknowingly lets go of yours.

"you look like you've dropped a huge shit on your underwear with the way you're staring down the court," konoha comments as he takes the seat he reserved beside you, hands deep in his pocket while he does so.

you glare at him, scoffing at his vulgar choice of words, "and you look like that shit, asshole. we haven't seen each other for so long and that's how you greet me?"

he laughs out loud, opening his arms and shoving you in them, "here! is this what you wanted instead? so adorable, yn! i knew you loved me at some point!"

you let out a series of groans, struggling to get out of his hold, "no! you're so annoying, get off me!"

he cackles, releasing you as the buzz rings out throughout the whole court, signaling the beginning of the match between msby and schweiden adlers. you shift in your seat, watching the players get introduced one by one, gasping when your ex-boyfriend literally does two cartwheels in his turn. is he... serious?

"where does he think he is... some kind of circus?" konoha snickers, shaking his head in amusement. oddly, you find yourself laughing with your companion. after all, this was typical bokuto, so full of energy and surprises.

"he looks... okay. very much okay," you bitterly state, placing your chin right on your palm as your arms and elbows rested on your lap. envy envelops your whole being as you watch him lively wave to the crowds, a large grin staying on his face. you huff silently, eyes trying to look at the other players but gravity seems to be playing its tricks on you as you find yourself reverting back to his figure. you wonder if time will let you become that happy someday.

"you're not...?" the lad beside you trails off, sighing when you shake your head 'no.'

"of course not yet, aki. it's not that i still love him or anything but he's just... he was everything, you know? he's become part of all my routines and now that he's gone, it... it just feels empty. like the dreams that used to help me sleep at night suddenly went away," he nods, not pushing you to say anything further. you both knew better than to have a shameful breakdown in public.

"god, i keep forgetting that the air conditioning in here is the worst," you grumble under your breath, rubbing your hands together to keep them from freezing out... because bokuto was no longer there to keep them warm, no longer there to offer you his own hands because you both forgot your gloves at home, no longer there to blow on them as if it was effective (it distracted you both at least), no longe—

"here, give me your hand," konoha reaches out to you, palms awaiting for yours to be in contact with his. you blink, surprised by his sudden offer, along with the pink hues that dusted both sides of his cheeks.

"we can't have them becoming numb, can we? i... i want to hold these hands for a very long time, you know?" he stutters as he begins rubbing both of your hands together, successfully getting rid of the cold and providing a new warmth you never expected will come sooner. oh... it's time, huh?

"uhm... yeah... thank you," you felt your face get hot. it seems like something... rather, someone has come to distract from the coldness you've been recently feeling.

"give me your days," he coughs out, still blushing. if anything, he's flushing even more now, "i'll fill the emptiness in them... and... and i can be your dream so you can sleep tight... and you'll be mine."

you gape at him, thousands of scenes flying through your mind but all of them led to one specific scenario.

"i... i have a lot of dreams, yn! i want to become a star player, someone who everyone will look up to and cheer for! and i... i think i want to focu—"

"i get it, bo. i'll get out of your way then. thank you... for everything."

"i-i'll be your dream?"

konoha chokes on his own saliva, "y-yeah! don't make me repeat it though, do you even know how cheesy that sounds? i can't believe i just said that, god... the things you make me do, you...!"

"okay."

it was his turn to blink, "e-eh?"

"i guess this is day one then?"

"eh?! wait... we... we're dating now, right?!"

"shut up now, aki."

as his golden eyes observe the two figures sitting by the stands, bokuto wishes he could've seen sooner that you were the one he had always been dreaming of, yearning for; wishes it could be him that was holding your hands again and he swears to whoever god there is, he won't let go of them anymore.

but then again, it seems like you were finally ready to wander with someone that wasn't him— who was he to stop you from doing so?

he was just a star;

you were the whole universe,

his universe.

© SKIYOOSMI, 2021. reposting, translating, editing, copying and any kind of plagiarism are strictly prohibited, thank you.

[ask-whumptown]

what was everyone’s most silly/stupid clumsy moment? i wanna hear as much as your all willing to share

"T. is so clumsy, I think there's a moment everyday that could count as his clumsiest." Robaire gives Aaron T. a friendly nudge.

"No, he has a worst." Aaron Z. looks pained just from remembering it. "Our manager has a yacht."

"Oh God." Jesse shrinks, crossing his arms.

"The day after we got back from the tour, they thought it would be fun to hold one of our monthly progress meetings on the boat, have some dinner, talk with people from different parts of the agency, very professional."

Aaron T. chuckles nervously. "It was an accident, it really was."

"He knocked me off the boat," Jesse says, "Slipped, knocked me off, and fell in."

Aaron T. gives Jesse a sorrowful pat on the arm. "Mind you, this was literally right after the tour, so no swimming lessons or anything yet."

"Tae saw it all happen though, and they got us out after like, twenty minutes?"

"It was much longer than I would have liked." Taeyoung agreed.

"I think about your clumsiest moment whenever I need a laugh." Jesse stretches his arms.

"Mine?" Taeyoung blinks.

"Mhm. When we were filming Break Free."

"Oh my God." He breaks into a smile. "Does that even count?"

"What are you talking about?" Aaron T. leans forward, resting his elbows on the coffee table. "What happened? Why wasn't I there?"

"You know that part where he ascends, and he pushes off the wall to gain speed?"

The uninformed trio all watch Jesse expectantly.

"He'd already learned the stunt, and it was time to film. I had a scene coming up that also needed the wires, so I was on standby, and for the first take, Tae missed the wall."

"The wire spun me a different way!"

"So instead of kicking off, he kinda just." Jesse imitates the motion with his hands. "Hit it."

"But the wire kept going, and I was really flustered, so I stopped thinking and tried to grab the wall."

Jesse smiles widely. "I swear, I blinked, and he was upside down, kicking around and trying to back up, laughing hysterically. They lowered him, and he landed face down."

Taeyoung giggles. "And since it was a take, they got it all on video."

"Uh hello?" Aaron T. says, "Why haven't I seen it?"

"They never gave it to us!"

"I've got another one." Jesse covers his mouth with a hand. "Ro."

"This can't be good."

"So," he starts, "most of the time, our apartment is a mess, and one night Robaire made the super bold claim that he knew us so well he could walk through the apartment blindfolded, with the mess, and not trip."

Robaire sits up straighter. "And I didn't!"

"Oh." Taeyoung fails to fight off a fit of laughter. "This is good."

Jesse gets up to imitate Robaire. "So we blindfold him, right? And to his credit, he really didn't trip over any of our stuff. What he did forget was that the door to the balcony was left closed."

"I was in the kitchen by the way," Aaron T. puts in, "and suddenly I hear this smack, then quiet, and then so much laughter."

"He walked right into the glass, it was so bad."

"This is so not fair, why has Jesse seen all our clumsiest moments?" Aaron T. crosses his arms, sinking into one hip and tilting his head.

"You weren't there for Jesse's either," Robaire says.

"Jesse trips once in a blue moon, I don't think I've seen him eat shit once."

"No, no, this was when we were filming Wanna Be With U."

Jesse thinks about it for a second. "Oh."

"So, while we were filming, Jesse got stung by a jellyfish."

"You got to see that?" Taeyoung gaped. "Unfair."

Robaire nods rapidly. "Now, Jesse is dramatic, so-"

"As all Hell," Aaron Z. adds, "if that isn't obvious already."

"-When he got stung, instead of 'ow that hurts' it was 'Ah! Cuss words!'" Robaire remains unbothered by the daggers Jesse is shooting with his eyes. "And I swear, he had the most cartoon fall I've ever seen, feet straight up in the air."

"That jellyfish had it out against me." He mumbles.

Aaron T. suddenly lights up. "Ha! Z., I've got one for you."

He gives Aaron T. a look that would definitely kill someone with thinner skin.

"We were hiking with Tae."

Taeyoung, who'd chosen the wrong time to take a sip of water, chokes. "Ha!"

"No. I'm telling it," Aaron Z. says, "those two were being idiots, and I was getting frustrated, so I tried to show them how unsafe they were being. This is entirely their fault."

"You were having fun," Aaron T. coos.

"I was imitating you, actually."

"We were on a pretty steep hill by the way," Taeyoung adds, "it definitely wasn't a cliff, but it was really steep."

Aaron Z. shuts his eyes, brows raised. "I fell."

"Really, the moral of the story is acting like T. makes you clumsy," Robaire says, "and Jesse is a clumsy amplifier, somehow."

[valberryy]

good god, let me give you my life. — kaeya

another converted oc fic!!!! yes i have many kaeya thoughts....... and i missed this oc in particular QAQ anyways please accept this word vomit its like 2k words im sorry idk what possessed me

pairing: kaeya x fem!reader

content warnings: mentions of blood/injuries + alcohol, light swearing (like, three instances max)

Kaeya had seen that doe-eyed look countless times before, but there was still something about the way your gaze burned almost incredulously into his own that made his smirk grow wider.

"Kaeya, you asshole!" you exclaimed, but your half-exasperated anger just made him laugh—by the Seven, you were even more fun to tease than Diluc! 

"What's the rush?" he laughed, ignoring your hand on his chest to balance herself as you tiptoed to where he was holding your Vision right out of your reach. "Is widdle [Name] so scared of—"

You elbowed him in the gut at that, and his grip on your Vision wavered as he let out a pained oof. You pinned it back to where it normally hung, and a glance at your clothes—the buttoned up coat, the bags placed haphazardly on the ground next to your boots—was all it took for the lucidity to return to Kaeya's eyes.

"The others are waiting," you muttered, gaze downcast and cheeks flushed from the cold. Kaeya nodded. Wordlessly, you grabbed his hands and squeezed, ever so gently.

"I promise we'll come back to visit," you said. "And I'll write a lot."

Kaeya nodded again, a devious grin pulling at his lips but faltering at the edges. "When you do come back I'll ask Master Crepus to throw a party and I'll read out your letters for everyone to hear—"

"You—!"

"...So come back safe, okay?"

A sigh, then, and another light squeeze of his hands. 

"I promise."

With that, Kaeya finally let you go—and already missing the warmth of your palms and the fleetingness of your touch, he watched as your back disappeared off into the horizon.

Kaeya often found himself waiting, those days, to the point that he might have called himself distracted if he hadn't known any better. The smile that graced his lips at each letter—which always started with your and your brother's neat handwriting, with little comments from your sister sprinkled all throughout, and sealed with some local flower or other—never failed to go unnoticed, to the point that even Diluc found himself sighing at the sight.

"You're an idiot," he had said, and nothing else.

Each year your visits had become a staple of summer, and for days on end Master Crepus' manor was filled with foreign music and dance. Kaeya never read out your letters like he said he would, but you two would always sneak out of the party with a bottle of champagne, and you would whisper gossip to each other like you always used to, conspiratory and scheming.

(Once, just as a laugh was about to spill from his lips, you placed your palm over the lower half of his face and kissed the back of your hand. "I thought you were bolder than that," he teased, and with a scoff you plucked the bottle from his hands.

"Oh? I'd like to see you do better, lover boy.")

One year the letters stopped, and you never came to visit. Winter came all too soon. The calla lilies in your last letter had begun to wilt.

The next year, he and Diluc parted ways. As their swords clashed for the last time, he wished it was your flames that had scorched him instead.

Two years hence, the Knights of Favonius found a young woman, half-conscious and all but bleeding out, under the tree at Windrise.

Kaeya had stopped in his tracks when he heard, his silver tongue going dry behind the calm smile he put on. "Thanks for the news," he told his subordinate. "I'll check it out."

As soon as he was alone, he let the panic sink in.

His walk to the cathedral was exceedingly brief, and Kaeya wasn't quite sure if that was a good thing. As he walked towards the infirmary he heard Barbara's voice—

"...but do you remember anything else?"

A pause, then a blunt, "No."

—And as he walked inside he saw the deaconess with her tome, and a little ways behind her was...you. You seemed a little pale and worse for wear, but when you looked at him with the same doe-eyed look as before, Kaeya couldn't help but feel the slightest bit relieved.

"You really worried me back there, love," he said smoothly. "How are you feeling now?"

You glanced almost unnoticeably at Barbara, who seemed to mouth something along the lines of, "Later."

"Alive, I guess," you responded, then paused for a good moment as you glanced at him fully. Kaeya raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry…" you said, "It's just that I've heard so much about you, but—"

But what? he thought, and felt his blood run cold again.

"—I have no idea who you are."

—

Kaeya thought it the worst of cruelties for you to be so similar to your old self, yet so wholly, horribly different. You walked with the same languid grace, spoke with the same haughtiness and pride, still tapped your teaspoon against the rim of your teacup—three times, every single time, with a resounding chime.

But you no longer looked at him the same, no longer laughed at his old jokes, no longer called him by his name. It was always captain or sir, and never what he so desperately longed to hear.

"You Knights are always so ineffective," Diluc sighed, and for the first time in years the Ragnvindr brothers finally found themselves in agreement.

Kaeya laughed self-pityingly, running one hand through his hair and using the other to swirl the contents of his half-empty glass. Another sigh, and just as he was about to speak again, the door to Angel's Share opened to the sound of laughter.

"Venti, I said no—"

"Oh, come on! All you've been doing is reading that journal of yours! I thought you—"

There was an indignant, ungraceful sounding yell, and the rest of Venti's words were muffled by what Kaeya assumed was your hand. You two whispered together some more—he even thought he heard you threaten him, if he wasn't mistaken—and with your defeated sigh, Venti began to tune his lyre.

Ah, you was going to dance, then. 

Kaeya turned in his seat to the point where he could watch them from the corner of his vision, taking another drink from his steadily-emptying glass. With gentle hands, the bard began to pluck at his lyre strings, and with the same practiced, precise movements he committed so dearly to memory, your body began to sway.

He knew this one—it started off slowly, gently, only to speed up as the music did as well. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three-four, went your heels against the wooden floor, and as the song ended and you bowed with a haughty flourish, Kaeya had abruptly stood up and left the tavern.

Your steps were light against the cobblestone when you caught up with him, that same night.

"Captain," you said, "you've been avoiding me."

He turned around to face you, a practiced smile on his lips. He couldn't look you in the eyes, though, no matter how intensely your gaze burned into him. "Oh? What might you be doing out so late, Miss [Surname]?" 

You sighed, placing a hand on your hip. "You knew me before, right? That's why you keep running away?"

Kaeya's tongue went dry as he heard you speak. Ah, what does he say to this? He watched you sigh again, but this time you brought out the musty old journal that he knew hung from your waist.

You held it out to him expectantly, but he didn't take it.

"...We knew each other," he eventually replied, soft and without any of his normal bravado. "We were…close."

Your face remained impassive, but there was a glint in your eyes that gave your suspicion away. "...I see," you said. "Then…I want to start again. I can't be the person you knew before, but…"

It was Kaeya who sighed this time, endearingly. "You really haven't changed," he said, before holding out a hand for you to shake. "Allow me to reintroduce myself, then. Kaeya Alberich, at your service."

You smiled, and he felt his heart flutter and ache alike at the sight. Taking his hand, you said, "[Name] [Surname]…a pleasure it is to finally know you, Kaeya."

—

Whenever dusk fell, Kaeya would often find you at one of the many taverns littered throughout the city, but your favourite seemed to be the Angel's Share, of all places. If you weren't dancing along to whatever tune the bard was singing, you were often talking with Diluc from the opposite end of the bar, sipping from your glass of wine. 

And whenever Kaeya would walk in you would turn to him and raise your glass in greeting, crowing something or other about coincidence, and he would say something or other about fate; and then you would drink together as his brother grew increasingly exasperated at the volume. 

One evening, he had lost track of how many rounds he had when his head began to grow fuzzy. He was only half-conscious of Charles' sigh, and you saying something along the lines of, "I'll bring him home."

With practiced ease—likely from your time hanging around with that drunkard bard—you lifted him up and slung his arm around your shoulders, struggling a bit from his height. "C'mon, captain, let's get you home," you said, to which he merely nodded and buried his face in the warmth of the crook of your neck.

"Y'know, it was always you getting wasted like this," he drawled. "Master Crepus used to—! He used to always scold us for stealing wine, but you were always half passed out so you never heard any of it."

You looked down, seemingly deep in thought. "It sounds like we were very close," you said, and he chuckled and hummed in the affirmative. 

He began rambling again as you made the short walk to his house, continuing even as you dug through his pockets for his keys. How he still reads your letters, how you made fun of his eyepatch the very first time he wore it, how you two used to climb the tree at Windrise, hoping always, in vain, to somehow reach the highest bough. If he were less shitfaced and more sober perhaps he would have found it in himself to stem the waterfall of words spilling from his lips—honest and raw in a way neither of you were used to—but as it stood, all he could have done was bare his heart to you like this.

You were silent as you laid him down on his bed, mumbling more to yourself than to anyone else, "You need to drink water, Kaeya."

The silence between you hung heavy like a body on the gallows. 

"I really loved you, you know."

Another pause, then, and then the soft caress of your palm against his cheek, and the lightest brush of your lips against his forehead.

"...Good night, Kaeya."

The next day, Kaeya woke up with the worst bitch of a migraine he's ever had in his life. As he rose to get a glass of water, he suddenly became aware of several things: firstly, the fact that he was a fucking idiot; second, the fact that he needs to get black-out drunk less often; and third, the fact that you were lying asleep on his couch, your journal in one hand and your other arm hanging off the side.

He sighed, placing down the empty glass, and walked over to you—and with your same gentleness from the night before, Kaeya brushed aside your bangs to press a kiss to your forehead.

—

"Snrk—you what?"

"Oh, yes, and then after that Jean said—"

You cut off the rest of his story by shoving a piece of meat in his mouth, and when Kaeya managed to swallow it he was met with the sight of your smug smile and your eyes still bleary from laughing. 

"There's no way all of that happened because of a rabbit," you said, to which he laughed good-naturedly, followed by a sip from his glass of wine.

"You'd be surprised what kinds of things Klee can get herself into."

You laughed again, and he took another drink of wine. Ah, he missed this, he thought. Missed the way the breeze here at Windrise smelled of asters, missed the way the moonlight trickled down through the leaves of the giant tree. 

(Most of all, he missed the little way your nose would crinkle when you laughed, but he'd prefer not to say that aloud, lest he be hit over the head with the wine bottle he brought along today—amnesia or not, he knew very well it was still within your strength to do so.)

Kaeya watched as you closed your eyes to enjoy the evening breeze, your hair like a wildfire in the breeze. You looked at him then, your eyes heavy with a certain lucidity that he couldn't name, but still managed to shake him somehow.

"...I'm in love with you, Kaeya."

When he smirked and said, "So I get to brag that I made you fall for me twice?" he was met with the same indignant, doe-eyed glare from all those years ago.

"I'm being serious!" you exclaimed, but he only laughed again, and covered your mouth with the palm of his hand. Before you could protest again, he kissed the back of his own hand and pulled away, a cheeky grin on his lips.

"Where'd all that bravado go, Mr. Casanova?"

Kaeya was hit with a pang of nostalgia, then. He looked at you, cheeks lightly flushed from the cold breeze and embarrassment alike, and his smile only widened further.

"Hmm? Think you can do any better, dearest?"

[mxnrly]

advocate, im changkyun

angst, fluff ending !

I inspired this in way too many things, but mostly in my career. Being a psychologist in progress makes me so excited but also scared of not being able to seek for help as I am the one who should be helping. Also, I got inspired on the MBTI type, INFJ or, advocates and! this song from sleeping at last. 

It’s my comeback after a long time without posting so, I hope y’all like this!!

wc: 1.6k

⠀

“Let me be your healer. Only yours. Because you give your life for the others but you always put yourself last. So here I am, putting you first so you can have someone to take care of you too…”

Your mom always told you about how your priorities were upside down, because you always liked to take care of others before taking care of yourself, and your life motto was even “love yourself first”! but it was funny how you didn't apply that on yourself. 

But that's just who you were! Always shoving your heart for others to help their hearts beat. Always taking away the oxygen straight from your chest to help others breathe. Because that's who you were. 

An advocate. Someone who always liked to take care of others, no matter how deep in thoughts you were, no matter how tired you were… 

Taking a deep breath, once again, you were tired of it all, but you knew if he came right at you for advice, you would be there for him. Because that's what you do. Because that's what you are. 

An advocate. 

Pushing the door open, you took off your shoes, noticing the smell of food. It was the middle of winter, so the heat irradiated from the kitchen made you almost feel like crying. Holding the lump on your throat, you walked carefully to the kitchen, watching the back of your loved one. He had a white shirt, folded from his sleeves up on his elbows, he was wearing the black pants of work and his black socks matched. His hair was brushed back his forehead, and, although you couldn't take a look at his face, you know he was furrowing his brows and slightly biting his tongue outside his mouth. The clear representation of concentration. 

Flashing a smile, you took a step closer, knocking on the little table inside the kitchen making him jump a little. He was wearing a deep blue apron and, now looking at you, you could appreciate his beauty under the yellow lights of the kitchen. 

“Welcome home, love!”

His enthusiastic tone made your heart swell. Waving lightly, you caught his shining eyes, while he started serving the food. Cleaning his hands with a cloth, he took off his apron and hung it beside the fridge. 

You knew, outside the house, you were the psychoanalyst, but inside of it, he was the real mvp. With just one look, he could tell your emotions, just like now. 

After turning off the stove, he turned back at you and opened his arms, making his way towards you. His face was mixed with emotions, but the most evident ones were concerning and love. You knew how much he loved you, after years of marriage he had shown it to you in the most beautiful ways. Your favorite way? His attention. 

At work, you needed to pay attention to a bunch of people, making them feel better with what you wanted the most. But that's how you were. And you loved your job, even if sometimes it became too much, you were willing to give everything for the people at your consulting room. 

His arms engulfed you in a warm and loving hug. Your arms found their way to his waist, hugging him tightly as if he was going to disappear if you didn't hold him correctly. 

“Sweetheart, you look a little tired. When did you last eat?” The sweet, slow and deep voice of your husband rang into your ears. Holding a sigh, you just hug him tighter, denying the tears that threatened on coming outside its place. 

“Tell me, is something wrong? If something’s wrong you can count on me.” Once again, his voice broke the silence making your knees quiver. You were so weak, oh so weak. But you weren't supposed to say it. You weren't supposed to be feeling weakness. You needed to be strong. 

You… Must be strong. 

Taking in your silence, his right hand found its way on the back of your head and started rubbing your hair, swinging you left and right slowly, humming lowly. 

He knew how hard you were sometimes to yourself. Considering your job required you to be focused on different storylines across the day. You were drained. 

“It's okay if you can't find the words, I'll take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders.” His hands started taking off your long brown coat, sliding past your arms, showing your grey turtleneck shirt. 

Finding his way to the bedroom, he hung the coat on the closet. Going back to where you were, he hugged you one more time. You could take in the scent of his deep perfume. Roses, but not fresh roses, something more like, musky roses. It had a wooden scent, manly, he smelt like home. 

After a couple of minutes more, you both sat at the table. Taking in the visuals of the food, you couldn't help but feel blessed to have such a person as your soulmate. 

Holding the fork and digging into the pasta, he waited for your reaction. After the first bite, your brows shot up and a smile adorned your face. 

“It's amazing, Kyun!”

He smiled, feeling like the best cook in the world. Both of you started eating your meals, glancing at each other every once in a while. You used to have a little chat while eating, but the food was too good you couldn't help but stuff your mouth with more food every time you swallowed the current bite you had. 

When you were done and you saw he was done too, he took a sip of his red wine and looked at you. “Tell me, how was work?” He wanted to know. More than anything. He wanted to help get rid of the things that were bothering you. 

Taking in a big sigh, you pressed your lips before denying with your head. “It was good, tell me about you, could you find the solution to the problem you told me about?”

Tilting his head, he looked right into your eyes sighing deeply. “Baby, I don't want to talk about myself.” His tone was serious, reaching for your hand resting on the table, he gazed with his thumb at the back of your hand. His skin was warm, showing love with just a single touch. “Tell me where it hurts. Please.”

You knew you were caught. Since the moment he first took a look at you, he knew what you were feeling. He knew. He always knew. 

“I don't even know where to start,” making your head rest on the back of the chair, you looked at the ceiling avoiding his eyes. “already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart, I guess…”

His eyes traveled to your hand, where the engagement ring laid, and under it, was the marriage ring. Without wanting to say anything, and instead, trying to give you time to think on your next words, and you were forever thankful for his patience. 

There was it, silence again between the both of you. The heartbeat was thumbing hard and strong in your ribcage. The tears were threatening to spill again. Trying to contain the emotions, blinking repeatedly looking everywhere but your husband. 

“I just want to love you well,” You said between a broken sob. Your voice was already affected and you couldn't help but keep going, because in the end, he had seen you in this state more times than you'd like to admit. “I just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved myself…”

With a rapid pace of breathing, your chest was violently going up and down, but no sound came from your mouth. Across time, learning how to swallow the pain, the emotions down her stomach, and the noise that came with such events, became a speciality you had. And you didn't know whether to feel proud or concerned. 

“Like a tidal wave, I'll make a mess,” His voice spoke above the war in your head. Your mind was a mess, a mix of threads with no beginning or end that only caused more damage than good. Your right hand covered the one he was using to cover your left. “or calm the waters, if that serves you best.” Continuing, he reached with his free hand for your face, cleaning the tears with his fingers. 

Watching his face, the adoration in his eyes everytime he looked at you, only made your chest become more tight and ready to explode. You loved him. With all your soul.

He was your advocate. 

Getting up his seat, he held your hand making you mimic his actions. Face to face, he cleared the rest of the tears, and closed the distance, kissing the frustration and anxiety out of your system.

He knew, oh God, he did know how you functioned. How the emotions that sometimes drowned you, could take the best or worst out of you. 

The warm touch of his lips made your head spin once, twice, thrice, until you were intoxicated by his love. And then, there wasn't silence anymore, there wasn't pain. There wasn't… Evil. Nothing could hurt you now. 

A sweet melody embraced your bodies, making you feel like floating. Maybe when you both would take a breath, and your breathing becomes erratic, everything would go back to what it was, but it didn't matter anymore. Because you had him. 

“And what a privilege it is to love you,” his forehead bumped into yours lovingly. A smile spread on his lips making you smile even wider. “ it's a great honor to hold you up…”

[dontcare77ghj]

Bedside Manner

Natasha x reader x Wanda x Pepper

Tony had renovated an entire floor of the Tower into a medical wing out of necessity. He'd employed an array of doctors to be on standby because he had to. Made sure there were enough medical treatments for enhanced and non-enhanced individuals alike.

Tony did all this because the Avengers were a bunch of clumsy fools. 

Those were Tony's words whenever someone asked him to describe the team. 

Natasha would usually cut in and add that he was apart of that statement, which would generally cause a small argument between the two.

You and Pepper would fondly roll your eyes at the two before Pepper would change the topic.

If you wanted to be honest, the four of you spent too much time in the medical wing for your liking.

For Natasha and Wanda, it was an occupational hazard. The two were Avengers. They defended the Earth against aliens, and assholes too injuries were a part of the job.

You had also been put into the medical wing a handful of times. Not because you were an Avenger, no, you were a civilian, but because you were just a klutz in general. Something your partners found very endearing to your embarrassment. 

Pepper was the only one in your relationship that didn't find herself in a hospital bed every other weekend. The woman could be hopping a marathon in ten-inch heels and not so much as falter.

Waking up in the medical wing, in a bed or by someone's bedside, became a regular occurrence in your relationship, much to Pepper's horror. 

"Knock, knock." You rapped on Pepper's door. "I had an appointment with my favorite CEO." You smirked, leaning in the doorway.

"Sweetheart, I didn't know you were coming." Pepper smiled, looking up from her work.

"I wanted to surprise you." You said, entering and closing the door behind you. "I also come bearing gifts." You added, holding up a greasy paper bag.

"Do I smell fries?" Pepper asked, taking it out of your hands. "Oh, have I ever told you how much I love you?" Pepper groaned before kissing your cheek.

"Once or twice." You smirked, taking a seat across from her. "I thought I should feed you before you waste away."

"Good call." Pepper nodded. "I might have to work through dinner, thought I was going to have to skip lunch too." She said, munching on the given fries.

You sat with Pepper talking about your days as she ate and continued filling out paperwork.

"Miss Potts, Miss L/N, Dr. Banner has asked me to alert you that Miss Maximoff has been admitted to the infirmary floor."

"Ow!" Wanda whined, pulling her wrist into her chest.

"Yep. That's a sprained wrist, alright." Bruce said, moving to pick up a roll of bandages. "A pretty nasty sprain too."

After FRIDAY alerted you to your needed presence, you and Pepper had raced up to the infirmary to see Natasha waiting by Wanda's bedside.

"How did you sprain your wrist?" Pepper sighed. "Nat left you alone for ten minutes.

"A lot of things can happen in ten minutes." Wanda protested. 

"Not wrong," Natasha smirked, squeezing your thigh. 

"Nat!" You gasped, pushing her hand off your thigh. "Jesus!" You exclaimed, cheeks turning red as Natasha cackled.

"Can the two of you behave for five minutes?" Pepper sighed. "We're in the infirmary, and Bruce is right there."

"I didn't even do anything." You protested.

"Wanda, how did you sprain your wrist?" Pepper asked again. 

"I was practicing using my powers," Wanda mumbled as Bruce wrapped her wrist. "I lost concentration, and a bookend hit my wrist." She admitted. "Please don't laugh."

"No-one's laughing." You assured her. "Sometimes, things just happen, and you get hurt."

"Y/N would know that the best," Natasha commented, receiving Pepper's elbow to the ribs. "Ow."

"Everyone has clumsy moments." You said. "It doesn't mean we're going to think any less of you if you accidentally injure yourself."

"Like the time Y/N walked into a door," Natasha smirked.

"Okay, you know what, Romanoff?"

"Relax, we still love you despite how clumsy you are," Natasha said, throwing her arm around your shoulders. "Trust me, Wand, it doesn't matter how clumsy you are, you'll never be worse than Y/N."

"How badly is she hurt?" Pepper asked as she rushed into the waiting bay.

"We don't know yet. Cho is still checking her over." You said as you and Wanda stood.

"What happened? Are the two of you okay?" Pepper questioned, pulling the two of you into embraces.

"We're fine," Wanda assured her. "Nat pushed Steve out of the way and got hit. We had to force him to go to the debrief instead of waiting with us."

"God. I hate the three of you. You're going to make me go grey before I hit my prime." She sighed, sinking in a chair.

"You love us." You reminded her, taking a seat beside her.

"I do. I won't deny that." Pepper said, taking one of yours and Wanda's hands and squeezing them tightly. 

A door snapped open, causing the three of you to turn quickly. Cho came out, standing in the doorway as you all jumped to your feet.

"How is she?" Wanda asked outright.

"Natasha's okay. She has some bruised ribs and, judging from the bump on her head, we're assuming a concussion as well, but we think she'll be just fine." Cho told you, holding the door open.

"Assume?" You asked. "What do you mean, you assume she has a concussion?" 

"Natasha hasn't woken up yet." Cho sighed, leading the three of you to Natasha's bedside. 

Natasha was plugged into several IV's and to a heart rate monitor. She looked so peaceful resting in the white bed, but it did nothing to quell your anxieties.

"But that doesn't mean anything bad." Cho quickly added as Pepper and Wanda sat beside the sleeping redhead. "All my scans indicate there to be no brain trauma or any similar issues. The worst injury is a possible concussion. I'll give the three of you some space." She said before leaving.

"I'm gonna kill her if she ever does anything like that again." You sighed, sitting beside Wanda.

"Get in line," Pepper said, pulling out her phone. "I'm ordering her favorite chocolates."

"The Russian or German ones?" Wanda asked.

"Would it be overdoing it if I got both?"

"Get both. You get hungry after a concussion, trust me." You said.

"Fair point." Pepper nodded. 

"I'll order us some dinner," Wanda said, pulling out her own phone. "We could be waiting for a while." 

Natasha woke up two hours later. Her concussion was apparent from the second she woke up, but she did appreciate the company and the chocolates.

You hated days like today. All three of your partners were out and busy while you were at home with nothing to do.

Natasha and Wanda had left at the crack of dawn, so you hadn't seen them since the night before, and Pepper had left at seven before breakfast.

It was only noon, and the day was dragging, so you decided to busy yourself with tedious household chores.

Laundry was next up on your list. The four of you usually sent all your clothing out for laundering, but you needed something to do.

You had just overloaded a tall basket and were making your way down the stairs when it happened. A shirt fell out from the basket at the wrong time, and you stepped on it.

The basket flew from your hands as you slipped down the long flight of stairs. You were out before you hit the bottom of the staircase.

Non-reader POV

"One of us needs to inform Steve the war ended. He doesn't need to be drill Sargent anymore." Wanda muttered, drying off her hair.

"I get where he's coming from, we do need to be a team, but I agree with you," Natasha said, packing up her duffle.

Steve had demanded everyone arrive at the compound at dawn for training exercises. He'd spent the next seven hours forcing everyone into team, partner, and solo training simulations until everyone was feeling the hurt.

"I can't wait to go back to bed." Wanda sighed. "Maybe we can coerce Y/N to join us." 

"That does sound nice." Natasha smiled. Natasha was pulling her hair into a ponytail when her phone rang shrilly. "Go for Romanoff."

"Agent Romanoff." Cho greeted. "I'm required to inform you that Y/N is in an infirmary bed. Again."

"What happened?" Natasha asked, gaining Wanda's attention.

"Y/N had a fall and has broken her leg," Cho informed Natasha. "It's a minor fracture, the bone didn't pierce the skin, but she will be in a cast for at least six weeks. And I'd like to keep her here overnight."

"Have you called Pepper yet?"

"No, I haven't been able to reach Miss Potts. My call went to voicemail."

"Wanda and I will be right there," Natasha said before hanging up. "Y/N broke her leg. Call Pepper let her know it's a code pink."

Reader POV

"Hi there, got yourself into a bit of a mess have we, sweetheart?" Wanda asked as she entered with Natasha on her heels.

"Please save the mocking until my next dose of pain blockers." You begged, leaning against your pillow.

"No-one is going to mock you," Wanda said as she and Natasha took seats beside you.  

"Yet. No-one is going to mock you yet." Natasha smirked. "Because if it were anyone else, this is kinda funny."

"I hate this." You groaned. "Cho said I can't even go home tonight. Last time I ever try to do the laundry."

"It was a sweet thought, dorogoy," Natasha said, taking your hand. "But from now on, let's just send laundry out."

"Jesus Christ, I'm going to kill one of you these days," Pepper said as she rushed in. "Are you okay?" She asked, pulling you into a hug.

"I'm fine, Pep. A little bruised, a little broken, but I'm fine." You assured her.

"We can all see your leg, Y/N," Wanda said, tapping on the cast. "Cho says you're gonna be in it for six-eight weeks."

"Which means bed rest," Natasha told you.

"Lots and lots of bed rest." Pepper agreed.

"When she wakes up, she'll need to be on bed rest for at least a week," Cho explained, leading you, Natasha and Wanda forward. "That means no strenuous activity in the slightest. I don't even want her reaching for her tablet."

"No work. Got it." Wanda nodded.

"She can try walking a few steps every day to avoid pneumonia. No baths for two weeks, showers are okay, but she has to pat the area dry.  Now, full recovery after a surgery like this is about four weeks, but Pepper's a fighter, so it could be three."

"Is there anything else we should know?" You asked as you all entered Pepper's room.

"I think I've covered all the bases. When Pepper wakes up, make sure she drinks some water, and then FRIDAY will call me down to check her over." Cho told you before leaving you all alone with Pepper.

"God, she talks about us giving her grey hairs, I think I just lost a decade off my life span." Natasha sighed, collapsing heavily onto a chair.

"I'm waiting for my heart attack to kick in." You agreed, sitting on the arm of Natasha's chair.

Earlier that day, Pepper's appendix had burst. The four of you had been having breakfast when it exploded, and Pepper collapsed to the ground in pain.

Natasha had called Bruce and Cho while you and Wanda set about trying to help Pepper. Before you could actually process what was happening around you, Pepper had been whisked away to the med bay, and the three of you were in the waiting bay.

"She's going to feel like shit when she wakes up," Wanda commented, putting another pillow behind the woman's head.

"That is an understatement." Natasha snorted. "Thank God Cho's got her hooked up to the good stuff."

You, Wanda, and Natasha sat in Pepper's room, quietly talking, for three hours before Pepper began waking up.

"Hi, hon." You smiled, taking one of her hands. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” She groaned, turning her head towards you. “Have I ever mentioned how much I hate being in the medical bay?”

“Don’t think you have, sweetheart.” Wanda smiled.

“Well I hate it.” Pepper said firmly. “No more, we’re all banned from being in here from now on.”

“You’re really out of it, aren’t you, kisa?” Natasha asked, pushing hair off her face.

“I love you though. I love all of you.” Pepper added, as though she hadn’t heard Natasha. “Even if you all give me grey hairs.”

“We love you too, Pep.” You told her, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “Despite you just giving us a heart attack.”

The four of you spent more time in the med bay than any of you wanted, it was almost a second home, but there was one good thing that came out of your time in the infirmary. The four of you all got to work on your bedside manner.

Taglist

@rvgrsbrns @smilexcaptainx @hopingforbarnes @starlingelliot @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @jelly-fishy-babie @skeletoresinthebasement @agent-barnes40 @reann-loves-sebstan @skadikh @summergeezburr @buckybarton03 @sunshinepower17 @bindythedemon @natasharomanoffismywife @keenmarvellover @alissaginger @storiesbystarlight @buckybarnesplumwhore

Natasha Romanoff Taglist

@natasha-danvers @5aftermidnight @ohfuckno

All women

@imnotasuperhero​

[shelby-love]

JAY HALSTEAD

#2 Alone.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: soft angst but with a cute ending

Authors note: Here is the long awaited part two! Hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as you enjoyed the first one xx

PART // 1 //

~

"So...you're mad at him for leaving?" Gabby asks you. She had already knew that you were a bit mad before you even told her what happened.

But mad wasn't the word you would use.

"I'm not mad!" You fight back. "I'm... Disappointed."

Gabby stays quiet for a second.

"I need him right now." You huff and fix the wrinkled areas of your hospital gown. It's something you do whenever you're frustrated. Or even something remotely un-positive.

"I was shot two times Gabby!" For drastic measures you put up your two fingers in the air. "I don't care that I'm whining like a teenager. He was ready to flee the scene with me but he can't come to see me when I wake up from a 4 hour long surgery. Make it make sense goddammit!"

Your friend stays silent before nodding her head in defeat. She sees your point.

What Jay did was something a senior detective shouldn't have done. Ever. Leaving the scene instead of helping was every bit wrong in his Sargent's books and you're sure that he god an ear-full from Voight.

But not even Voight is that uncaring to prevent him from visiting you as some sort of a punishing method. Jay not coming is all him. No one made him tell Will to call him once you're awake and not visit.

"I'll let you rest." She announces quietly before giving you a quick hug. Quickly and quietly she retreats into the hall of the hospital, and soon leaving back to the firehouse to continue her shift.

You're alone in the hospital within the next 15 minutes. Your colleagues and friends scurry into their respective vehicles and drive off.

Every now and then Will swings by to keep you company but apart from that you're all on your own. You aren't updated about the case or anything for that matter.

You're pleasantly surprised when you see Burgess make her way towards you. She's dressed in civil but wears her badge proudly on the belt of her dark jeans. There's an air of importance and power around her that almost makes you feel proud that someone like her is paying you a visit. The proudness is overthrown by the love you have for your friend.

Therefore, you can't help the smile that breaks out and completely demolishes your grumpy and brooding facade.

"Thank God you're okay!" She exclaims, voice fill with relief and happiness. "Jay said you were fine but I just had to see for myself."

Your eyebrows furrow and a scowl makes its way to your face.

"Oh no, what's wrong?" Her big doe eyes round in surprise when she sees your face.

"What else did Jay say?" You ask her before you can stop yourself.

A sudden wave of realisation comes over her and she sighs. "Y/N he's beating himself up. He thinks it's his fault that you were shot."

"That doesn't give him the right to leave me when I need him the most!" Your outburst makes the monitor next to you spike up, almost enough to alert you attending doctor. "He left the crime scene to be there for me when I was knocked out and didn't know where I was but then decided to leave my side completely when I woke up in shock and pain from a 4 hour long surgery!"

It should've been reversed.

"He's blaming himself for it Y/N... He told us that he won't be able to look at you until he finds the ones that did this to you." She talks about it so easily that it almost makes sense. You're too high on meds and you were out for way too long to suddenly feel forgiving.

"Well maybe I didn't want that from him..." You clutch your hands together in a strong grip and let your gaze fall on them. "Maybe I just wanted him to be the first person I saw when I woke up. I needed him to be there for me. Do you know how freaked out I was when I woke up and didn't feel my leg?"

Kim shakes her head lightly. She doesn't know. She can only imagine how you felt at that moment.

"He doesn't have to send me apology flowers or chocolate...but the fact that he didn't even call me. It hurts Kim."

At your truthful confession she stands up and pulls you in for a hug. You got a lot of them today but somehow her's felt the most warm and welcoming. She silently told you a lot of things.

Kim Burgess managed to snatch a few more minutes with you before she was called back.

"Could that be them?" You ask hopefully. Sitting in the hospital injured wasn't bearable knowing that the ones who did this to you managed to run away.

Kim nodded. "Jay has a lead. I gotta go."

She excused herself and quickly slipped out of your hospital room. Soon after, one of the lovely nurses payed you a visit once again with some hardcore medication that knocked you right out into deep slumber.

***

After some time you manage to lift your heavy eyelids long enough to get used to the bright light above you. You manage to stretch your arm long enough to press the magic button that will call someone to your room.

Halfway to the magic button you hear rustling sounds of one's clothing. It's like someone's in the room with you.

Instantly your paranoia kicks in. "Who...who's there?"

Your line of vision is met with an all fimilar set of eyes. The eyes, the nose, the lips, the cheeks...they all belong to only one person in the world.

They belong to your boyfriend.

"Oh, it's you." You tell him, clearly showing zero interest in talking to him. The wish to sit up becomes too strong that you can't ignore it any longer. You prompt yourself on your elbows, feeling pain in your side pierce you like an arrow. The noise that comes out because of the pain doesn't go unnoticed by Jay who quickly stands up to help you.

"I got this." You tell him through gritted teeth. You're still mad and disappointed with your boyfriend.

"No you don't. Don't be so stubborn and let me help you." He shoots back at you and hurts your already injured pride.

"N-no! You don't get to act like a boyfriend now!" You slap his help away like the petty little thing you are. After this new round of meds and a little more time napping with their help, you feel a bit more willing to forgive him. Not that you will show him that. He needs to see what he did wrong.

You can see it in his face. He wants to groan and shoot you a look that will tell you to stop being stubborn but he can't. He knows what he did and he also knows that he needs to explain himself in order to earn your forgiveness.

"Why did you leave me?" You ask. It feels good to finally ask the question that's been sitting on your chest for so long. "I understand what your job is and I also know that I can't expect you to be with me 24/7 but... Call me when she wakes up? They gave me my phone back, Jay. You could've just called me to see if I'm alive."

The fact that he didn't even do that... Instead he told his brother to call him when his girlfriend wakes up. It made you angry.

"You bolted with me in the ambo... You left everything and everyone behind to come with me and when I woke up you weren't there." You feel wet moisture (also known as tears) surround your eyes to the point he and his dark bomber jacket become blurry.

Every feeling you have is highlighted. You gulp the little saliva that created in your dry mouth and ask, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I couldn't stand looking at you while you're hurt like this, knowing that it happened because I didn't protect you." Jay confesses, bringing his hands to his face. He looks like he didn't sleep at all. "The men who did this to you got away because I didn't stop them. You were shot because of me. Not once but twice."

His words sink in. Your boyfriend is a proud guy. He protects what's his (not that you're an object) and when he doesn't succeed in that it eats him alive. It's the worst thing that can happen to him.

As his girlfriend, he already feels guilty that you have to be alert every day while you two are together because of his job. He thinks that the least he can do is protect you at all costs while you're in his sight.

What you didn't know is that before you went in to bust open the bunker door your boyfriend did everything in his power to get you out of there. To stop you from even entering the place with Severide in the first place.

But he couldn't. Not when his girlfriend is a very well respected member of CFD's famous squad group. Removing you just because he wanted to make sure you were safe was like saying that you couldn't do your job well. And Jay wasn't going to go that far and lie about your capability to do your job. If he did that then you would never forgive him.

And he knew it.

"I needed to find them first. I couldn't just let them go and get the upper hand." He told you sincerely and even managed to grasp your hands in his. "I was worried sick about you Y/N. I couldn't show it because Voight was going to remove me from the case and I needed to be there when we found them."

You take in his confession and nod. You take your hand from his grasp to wipe a few tears away before placing it back down and squeezing tight.

"Did you arrest them?" You ask.

"I kneeled them on the ground and managed to shoot each one when the open fire started." He said proudly. His statement brought a smile to your face. You always liked when he was badass.

"If I forgive you," His eyes sparkle when he hears that making you fight back a bubble of laughter. "Do you promise to never ever ever do this again no matter what?"

If, God forbid, this happens again you want him to be there for you when you wake up. Not chasing bad guys around Chicago while you fight for your life at Med.

"I sincerely promise." He says, pulling your hands up to your face and giving each a kiss.

"Now... Apologise." You lean towards him, smirking like a devil. "And make it good."

MASTERLIST

[wayward-riana]

Bun In The Oven | Jay Halstead

Summary : The reader passes out scaring Jay and the rest of the crew, only to find out that a bundle of joy is on it's way.

Requested by : @fofisstilinski

Warnings : None.

"All right, team. Good job. Now get the hell out of here and leave me in peace." Voight grumbles as he closes the door to his office.

Everyone arranges their desk and grabs their coat, ready to get the hell out and call it a night. Y/N sits down in her chair, rubbing her temples. Everything seemed blurry to her for a moment. She felt really dizzy. She told herself it was because of the very stressful case they worked on, earlier today.

"Hey, you okay?" Jay frowns as he sees the love of his life sitting helplessly in her chair.

"Yeah, don't worry. I'm all right," She offers him a tired smile. "Just tired, that's all."

Jay takes her hand in his and kisses her knuckles.

"Ayo, I'm going to Molly's. Who's with me?" Kevin announces.

"I'm in." Y/N forces herself out of her seat. Jay gives her a look but she gives his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Soon, the group of cops find themselves laughing over Adam's horrible jokes with drinks in their hand. Y/N doesn't take a single sip of the drink she's ordered as the nausea courses through her.

Jay rubs soothing circles on her back with his index finger, sensing her discomfort. He presses a soft kiss on her temple. He lets his lips linger on her skin for some time before pulling away.

"....And then he said 'You might never know what will hit you'." Adam almost snorts out the whiskey as he tells his lame story.

"And you might never know what will hit your head if you keep continuing." Y/N hisses.

"Thank you, Y/N." Kim says as she elbows Adam.

Y/N's blurry vision distracts her from her co-workers' antics. Soon, her vision turns completely black. Jay feels her pulling away from him. He does a double take when he sees her starting to fall from her seat. Right before she can hit the ground, he catches her.

"Y/N? Baby? Open your eyes!" Jay exclaims as he holds her close to his chest. "Come on, doll. Please, hold on."

Tears blur Jay's vision as he sees her lying helplessly in his arms. His heart starts racing, thinking his soul would leave his body any time.

The entire crew rushes in Chicago Med. Will walks out of the doctor's lounge, ready to go back home but stops in his tracks as he sees his brother run in the ED with Y/N in his arms.

"I need some help here!" Jay yells out.

Will drops his backpack and rushes forward.

________________________________________

Jay holds Y/N's hand to his cheek, leaning in her warmth. A few tears escape his eyes as he patiently waits for his best girl to wake up.

He stares at her face which was pale, so were her lips. He thinks about the first time he met her. She came in a couple of months before Erin left. From the moment she walked in the district, she blew everyone away with her wit, charisma and with how badass she was. She might not be physically strong, but she almost always takes out all the suspects that get into a fight with her. She doesn't use her strength, she uses her brain. She can outsmart anyone.

From the moment Jay saw her, he was in love with her. He did ask her out multiple times, but they always ended with them hanging out as friends. What he didn't know is that she was in love with him, as well.

Hank was actually the one who asked Jay to cut it out and tell Y/N about his feelings.

"Hey, Halstead. My office. Now." Hank called the detective to his office, one day. Jay wondered what he did wrong. He thought of every potential thing he did that would get him in trouble with Voight.

"Look if it's about the cake, then I'm sorry. I accidentally ate it. It was just sitting in the staff fridge. I had no ide -"

"Cake - what cake? Hold up, you ate my cake?" Hank put his hands on his hips and glowered down at Jay.

"So, this isn't about the cake." Jay chuckled, nervously. He mentally slapped himself for being such an idiot.

"You and Y/N get along?"

"Yeah."

"You friends?"

"Yes."

"Just friends?"

"All right, why are you pouring salt on my wounds?" Jay huffs.

"Look, kid. I see it in your eyes, you care about her. So, just tell her and make my job easier."

"How will that make your job easier?"

"I won't have to see you whine over the officers in the district hitting on her. You already annoy me enough. I don't need you whining on this duty. Got it? Good."

Jay almost smiles when he remembers those times. He snaps out of his trance when he sees Y/N opening her eyes.

"Hey, doll" He rushes closer to her. "You're awake."

"Hi, darling." Y/N croaks out and tries to sit up.

"Easy." Jay says as he helps her sit up. At that moment, Will walks in with a tablet in his hands.

"Hey, Y/N. I see you're awake. Your lab results came back," Will states.

"And?" Jay presses.

"And, I have some good news."

Will stares at the couple with the biggest grin on his face.

"I'm going to be an uncle!"

It takes a second or two for Y/N and Jay to process what Will said.

"O-Oh my God," Y/N gasps. "I'm pregnant."

Will nods, grinning.

Jay jumps out from his seat with a blank look on his face scaring both Y/N and Will.

"I'm gonna be a dad?" He breathes out. "I'm gonna be a dad! BRO, I'M GONNA BE A DAD"

He yells at the top his lungs in pure ecstasy. Y/N covers her mouth with her hands, laughing hard at her boyfriend's state.

After Will discharges Y/N, Jay's dramatic ass pulls an Oscar worthy performance in front of the crew who were impatiently waiting in the waiting room.

He walks out without Y/N. He musters up a devastated look as he walks into the waiting room. His expression startles the others.

"Dude, what's wrong?" Kevin questions.

"Is Y/N okay?" Kim asks.

"What did the doctor say?" Adam asks while rubbing Jay's back, in a comforting manner.

"The doctor said that -" Jay's voice breaks. The others furrow their eyebrows as they wait for him to deliver the worst news. "-I'm gonna be a dad!"

The rest of the team was way too happy to kill Jay. So, instead they celebrated as Y/N came out in the waiting room laughing at Jay's shenanigans.

Later, Jay and Y/N drive home.

"I'm sort of glad that I passed out." Y/N speaks. Jay gives her a questioning look.

"You want to explain that?" He raises his eyebrow.

"Well, if I hadn't passed out I probably would've ended up having that drink. I can't have alcohol, I'm pregnant."

"Doll, you don't have to worry about that anymore cause now you'll be eating for two and I'll be drinking for two." He winks at her right before receiving a smack in the arm.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Eighty-Seven

Words: 4.5k

Warning(s): explicit language, sexual situations, drug abuse, violence

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NIKKI

"Nikki, what the hell are you doing?" Vivian asks me as we walk down the stairs of the law firm. 

"I've broken every fuckin' vow except 'till death do us part' and I'll be fucked to hell if we stuck it out and stayed with each other after the worst bullshit just to fucking divorce." I state and she stays quiet for a moment before I'm stumbling back when she halts and snatches away from me, glaring up at me. 

"What if I want a divorce?" She asks. 

"I'd tell you you're full of shit." I snap and she raises a brow and crosses her arms. 

"Then what the hell was the point of hounding me for a divorce just to do this?!" She barks at me. 

"To prove a point I guess, I don't fucking know." I admit. 

"To prove a point?! What point were you trying to prove?! That even when we're not together you still have the control in the relationship?!" She yells.

"I don't have any fucking control in this relationship, are you fucking me?! I haven't had any control since day fucking one, Vivian!" 

"Are you fucking serious?!" She screams at me, frustration all over her face. "You have always had control, Nikki, trust me, I know, I'm the one that had to lay down and take your bullshit and give up what I wanted to do just so you'd feel in control!"

"I told you to go to fucking New York to go to school, did I not? What the hell did you do? You stayed! You can't get pissed at me for not giving you what you supposedly think I promised you!" 

"No, Nikki, I'm not pissed at you for not giving me what you promised--I'm pissed because you've given me years of fucked up shit that was never supposed to even be a part of the plan!" She has tears in her eyes, her voice shaking…

She's right. I'm not going to tell her she's wrong…

I sigh and rub the back of my neck, exhaling, as she wipes her eyes. 

"...Look, me and the guys are going to a different rehab, and I'll actually stick with it, and I want to work this out." I tell her, honestly. "I just don't know how to come back from the shit we've done to each other, Viv, but if we can figure out how, then I wanna do it." 

She doesn't say anything, looking at me with her pretty green eyes, nodding slightly. 

I didn't realize that once we agreed to work on our marriage, that all hell would break loose in the midst of repairing the damage. 

Me and the guys, except Mick, were sent to another rehab because the first one was too obnoxious, and by the second one, we were actually getting somewhere with each other as a band and individually, including the people closest to us in our lives. For me, that was Vivian.

My leg can't stop shaking as I repeatedly tap my foot, waiting for my counselor to get in and meet Vivian for the first time.

I exhale and glance at her, her red hair curled, reaching just over her boobs, long legs taken up by black stockings that have lace trim mid-thigh, just peeking out from under her black dress, black heels tapping quietly on the floor, her dark red nails standing out against the cover of the shitty crossword she's flipping through. Her perfume has the whole little area she's in smelling good and her red lips rub together for a moment as she doesn't even notice me staring at her. 

It's a Saturday and I'm assuming she's going out with Sharise or something when she leaves here, or she dressed like this to torture me, knowing I haven't had sex in nearly two months, starting in Japan back in December, and my right hand is my best friend currently. 

My fucking balls hurt as she shifts her legs, uncrossing them to cross them the opposite, now. 

If it were up to me they'd be wide open and either around my hips or my head. 

I keep my hand pressed to my lips, resting my elbow on the arm of the chair, focused on her.

I slide down in my chair a little to try to see what kind of panties she's wearing--if she's wearing any at all. 

It wouldn't surprise me if she's not wearing any at all. Just to fuck with my head like she loves to do. 

"Take a picture and it'll last longer." She tells me flatly, not taking her eyes off the book. 

"I would if I had a camera." I don't even deny staring at her and she flicks her gaze to me. "Or a video camera. That'd be better." I add. 

"Ha. Ha." She sarcastically lets out and I smirk, watching her get up to grab her purse from the empty chair adjacent to me, leaning down to dig through it. 

It takes everything in my power not to get behind her, bend her over it, slide her panties to the side and start poun--

"We're here to start the process of fixing things between us and you're here only focused on sex." She states and I snap out of it. 

"No, I'm not." I argue, furrowing my brows. 

"Nikki, I know when you're picturing having sex with me." 

"I'm always picturing having sex with you." I state. "And you know exactly what you're doing." 

The faintest, smallest little grin comes to her lips as she goes to sit down again. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." She mumbles and I look at her. 

"You're cruel." I mumble and she rolls her eyes. 

"Oh, whatever." She replies. 

"You look hot." 

"Shut up." 

"We can be done in ten seconds." I say next and she goes red. 

"Stop, Nikki!" She scolds me.

"C'mon, Viv, we've never fucked on a desk before." I point out. 

"We've broken into Doc's office just to mess around on his desk, Nikki." She reminds me. 

"Well, we've never fucked on a therapist's desk, so c'mon, it'll be quick."

"I--" she starts laughing, not believing me, "--am not having sex in a rehab facility. I'm not that horny." 

"So you admit you are horny to some degree, though." I say and she rolls her eyes. 

"Shut up."

"Just flash me or something." 

"Nikki."

"Please?"

"You're so weird." She ignores my request while I'm pinching the bridge of my nose. 

"I'm in pain, Vivian." I say next, groaning, exaggerating. 

"Sounds like a personal problem." 

"Fuck." I lean my head back, rubbing my face. 

The door opens and my counselor comes in, smiling at us. 

"Sorry, I'm late." She says, stepping to Vivian, extending her hand. "I have heard lots about you, I'm Amber." 

"Vivian. It's nice to meet you." Vivian replies, smiling her shiny smile that should win her an Oscar because she wears it so well even when she's fucking miserable--I obviously know from experience. 

Amber sits behind her desk as Vivian sits back down in the chair, and she looks up from her paperwork at us, raising her brows. 

"If we're going to start this grueling process, I highly suggest you two get comfortable being within three feet of each other, again." She adds.

Me and Vivian exchange looks, before she sighs and stands up, walking to the little couch I'm sitting on, plopping down beside me. 

I smirk to myself, looking at her from the side of my eye. 

"Okay, let's just get to it, Vivian, I've gotten a brief history of your husband, and I feel as though I can sort of, kind of, pin point a thing or two that has lead to the point that you two are at currently, but I'd really like to learn a little bit about you because all that's portrayed publicly to all of us is he's this nitty gritty, abrasive rock God, and you're the angel that tamed him to settle down." She explains and Vivian scoffs, raising her brows. "I know it sounds ridiculous but that's what's given in magazines and pictures taken of you two." 

"Yeah." Vivian nods. 

"And I don't think that's true, I don't think everything is happy and sunshine and, 'oh, we're opposites but that's what we love about each other,' and blah, blah, or else neither of you would be here admitting your marriage is in shambles...so, becoming familiar with Nikki--sober--the way that I have the past week gives me a sense of who he really is without the drugs and the cameras and the fans and the girls, because in here he's only got himself. He doesn't have to upkeep the persona he puts on to make it seem like everything's perfect. And, although you aren't a patient here, I really want you to allow yourself to just be and differentiate between who you are to the public, and who you are privately, because--from what I've heard--they're two completely different people." She says next and Vivian nods. "So, who is Vivian Kinston and how did she get together with Nikki Sixx?" She offers a warm smile and Vivian exhales, already looking overwhelmed…"In three descriptions, who were you when you met Nikki?" 

"A very religious, ballet dancing, perfectionist." Vivian says and Amber nods. 

"Let's dissect that and break it down for a moment." She says next. "Okay, religious--was that on your own or passed through your family or…?"

"Both of my parents, but mainly my mom." She replies and Amber nods. 

"Okay, and what is mom like?" 

"Very strict Christian, we couldn't have anything secular in the house...I'm not sure what she's like now but when I last saw her she had the pastor I grew up with trying to exorcise a demon from me because she found out I was engaged to Nikki." She tells her and Amber's brows shoot up. 

"When was that?" 

"'82, '83, around that time." Vivian explains. 

"So you haven't seen mom in close to six years." 

"Yeah." 

"Okay...you were a ballet dancer when you met," she starts the next point. 

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"Since I can remember." Vivian informs her. 

"So, a strict Christian upbringing, and a very, very, intricate form of dance that requires a lot of discipline, since you were probably a toddler." 

"Yeah." 

"And is that where the perfectionism comes in, through your background with dance?"

"No." 

"No, okay."

"My mom and my upbringing." Vivian explains. "Anytime I did something my mom didn't like or approve of or thought other people would lose their minds over if they knew I was doing it, she'd get onto me and would constantly drill into my head, 'this is not what we do, Vivian'." 

"Wow." Amber nods, her brows slightly furrowed. "So, it doesn't come from a place of that physical drive to be perfect at most things you do, it comes from a mental and emotional drive of not wanting people to know what skeletons are in the closet that would make them think less of you." 

Vivian nods, taking a deep breath. 

"Okay, and do you think that sense of perfectionism from your mother has helped you or harmed you in the long run?" 

"Harmed." She's saying it nearly before Amber can get her words out of her mouth. 

"And why is that?" 

"Because I grew up with her holding me to a nearly unreachable standard, and hounding unrealistic expectations onto me." 

"And in turn…"

"...It's made me do the same to him." Vivian says and I stare at the floor. 

"What unrealistic expectations, or unreachable standard have you held him to?" 

"Not doing the things that he's done." She says next. 

"What things?" 

"Infidelity and drug and alcohol addiction." 

"Why is expecting your husband not to cheat on you or put drugs and alcohol before you an unrealistic expectation that is unattainable for him?" Amber asks next and I rub my lips together. 

"Because of who he is and what he does." Vivian says next and Amber raises her brows. 

"So you think because he's Nikki Sixx--big time rockstar--that it's not realistic to expect him to do what he is supposed to do as your husband which is stay faithful and not put substances before you?" 

"Yes." 

"Oh, I see." Amber looks at me and I sigh. "Was your relationship ever open or polygamous, during or prior to marriage?" 

"No." She shakes her head. 

"Was he addicted to anything when you got married?"

"He did drugs and drank but at that point in time he didn't have a heavy reliance on it, no."

"An unrealistic expectation would be you telling him he can sleep with other women but then you getting angry every time he did. That's setting an unrealistic expectation of, 'I'm giving you permission to indulge in sex with other women but I expect you not to,' or him being addicted to heroin when you got married and you expecting him to drop any addiction he has solely based on the fact that you two got married. That's an unrealistic expectation. Him being a famous rock musician has nothing to do with his ability, or lack thereof, to be monogamous and sober." She explains to Vivian. "So you wanting your husband to not have an affair and not get strung out was not an unrealistic expectation that you had in a moment of naivety." She assures her.

"Okay." Vivian sounds like she's been waiting to hear that for a while…

"And I believe the issues you two are facing the most from both Nikki, and yourself, have grown from the root of how you two think. I know we hear the saying, 'opposites attract,' but we don't think about how sometimes when people are too opposite it acts like hot and cold air when it mixes and if it's in a big enough whirl, or big enough of a spectrum, it creates a tornado or a hurricane." She says next. "Religion equals a sense of morality, your history with ballet equipped you with a fair amount of discipline, and that perfectionism that you spoke on is your way of caring so much about what others think of you, you sacrifice yourself and just smile to keep things looking amazing on the outside."

Vivian nods. 

"I asked him to describe you in three words, and he said, 'beautiful, depressed, belligerent'." She tells her and I slowly see tears coming to Vivian's eyes. "Nikki admitted to me that when he met you, he had no sense of morality, he was doing whatever he wanted, when he wanted, he had no discipline in terms of controlling himself around drugs and women, and he couldn't give less of a care about what people thought of him." She explains. "And that might even been fun and exciting when you were just starting out but once you're married and he's gotten all these eyes on him suddenly, there are expectations put on the both of you to be this couple who has everything, and you're both attractive, and he's the bad boy and you're the good girl and you just fell in love is the only explanation you have for making the relationship work to the point of wanting to get married and you have a great house and matching cars and all this and all that and you're in the press smiling and laughing and holding hands and hugging up on each other and oh, it's a wonderful life, but as soon as you get alone…" she trails off, looking at the both of us knowingly. "He's high, you're suffering, and both of you are living a hell. But nobody can know that because you're Nikki and Vivian Sixx. You two are perfect because he doesn't cheat on you like other rockstars do to their wives and girlfriends. He doesn't put drugs and alcohol before you like so many others do to their girlfriends and their wives. He doesn't turn into this monster you don't recognize and lash out like a dog at you after a night of sitting in his closet and shooting up, because he 'loves' you, and you don't have to keep quiet for years while it just keeps adding up and adding up until finally you beat on your husband and those around you over minuet instances because the big things you were probably justified to get that angry over were swept under the rug and were never dealt with for years--because that's not what you do." She ties it right back to Vivian's mother. 

A tear rolls down Vivian's cheek, neither of us expecting it to be this heavy just during her introduction to Viv. 

"If we don't stop that mentality, it's going to poison every relationship around you that it hasn't already and when you have children it's going to be a curse on them just like it's a curse on you." She tells her, as Viv sniffles, trying to keep up with wiping her tears away. "I've already been on him about his upbringing burdening him, so please don't think this is a personal attack on you."

Viv nods, mouthing, "okay."

"You two want to make this relationship better and be better for one another, we are going to have to tear down six years worth of walls and blockades and gut this entire thing completely and start again. It's not going to be easy, you're probably going to learn things about each other you've been hiding and maybe even amicably decide to divorce before it's all over with, but you are both going to heal and start the process of forgiveness. With yourselves, with your parents, with your friends, and with each other."

She gives the both of us some homework...

"I want you two to prepare to tell each other everything you've not told one another for next time we meet." Amber tells us and the color drains from Viv's face, I know for a fucking fact that I don't look much different from her.

"What?" Vivian asks her.

"If we're healing this relationship we need everything in the dark in the light so we aren't building on an old foundation of secrets." She states. Vivian just nods hesitantly before we're dismissed.

"Vivian." I stop her out in the hall before she can leave, grabbing gently at her wrist.

"Yeah?" She asks me. 

"I love you." I tell her and she looks at me, smiling a little. 

"I'll see you Wednesday." She replies, squeezing my hand before she walks away. 

What the hell? I tell her and I love her and she just fucking says, "I'll see you Wednesday'?" 

I watch as she goes down the hall, heels clicking, hair down her back…

Goddamn. 

This is definitely my payback for taking my time with her for granted, because now that I'm in my right mind and not ruining our marriage, she barely even looks at me. 

At least she was actually wanting to work things out, because after the Vanity bullshit, I thought we'd never make it out after the first time I saw her since it had happened.

July 1987

I brace myself against the bathroom wall as my whole body goes numb for a moment, my eyes rolling momentarily. 

"Sixx, c'mon, we gotta get goin', Viv's here!" Fred yells from behind the door, his fist beating at it. 

Fuck him. Fuck this tour. Fuck this band. Fuck everything right now. 

Viv's just got here from the airport, she flew back in earlier this morning and I've been hiding, completely avoiding her, but I can't anymore. 

The media's in a frenzy since Vanity aired all of our dirty laundry, only making Viv and I both on edge even more. 

We've been denying the shit out of Vanity's engagement claims, but I don't think people are buying it as much as we'd like to think they are. 

I take in a breath and stumble to the mirror, looking at myself. 

Not too bad for a low down, dirty, bastard. 

Opening the bathroom door to see where Fred's waiting for me, I glance past his shoulder to see Vivian.

She looks like she feels like hell, but has managed to pull herself together. 

Makes two of us--well, kind of, at least. 

"C'mon, the guys are already at the venue." 

Fred tells me. 

"Great." I smirk, patting his shoulder, stepping to Vivian. 

I don't think either of us are taking into consideration the amount of utter bullshitting we're about to have to do. 

I also don't expect the amount of paparazzi waiting for us right outside the hotel's doors.

As soon as the door opens, screaming, flashes, invasive questions come hurtling our way. It feels closterphobic enough to make Vivian grab my hand, tight, curling closer into me as if trying to hide away from prying cameras and questions about my alleged affair.

I feel her being tugged at once, and just as she says, "Nikki," I'm snatching my hand from hers to beat repeatedly, as hard as I can, at the forearm of the perpetrator, a media creep trying to get her attention. 

"Don't fucking touch her!" I bark out over the noise and he stumbles back, holding at his arm as I put my arm around her waist, tightly, getting to the car. 

When we get inside, Vivian's obviously distraught over what just happened, shoving herself away from me. 

I turn my anger to Fred. 

"What the fuck is the point of  having fucking security if you're not going to keep people from touching her?" I sneer. 

"Because I'm a bodyguard, but you're a fucking Rottweiler." He states back without hesitation and I just roll my jaw, glancing at Vivian and she doesn't even look at me. 

I sigh and dig in my pocket for the little baggie I got earlier, grabbing my hotel room key to take a bump to help me wake up for this show, and when we get to the venue, I'm getting out of the car and waiting for Fred to get out. 

He does, and I stop Vivian, nudging her back inside before saying, "we'll be there in a second."

Fred just looks at me and exhales, rolling his eyes before stepping inside. 

Vivian sighs out as I look at her, avoiding looking at me…

"Vivian, are we gonna talk about it or…?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think we should."

"You proposed to her, Nikki."

"Allegedly." I add.

"You. Proposed. To. Her." She says it sharply and I lean back. "You had an affair with her. I trusted you. I trusted the both of you. And you lied to me." She hisses. "So, no, there is nothing to talk about...just let me out of the damn car." She slides over and opens the door but I reach over her and slam it shut.

She takes heavy breaths from where she's sitting, my body hovering over hers, the tips of our noses brushing together…

I lean down, my lips pressing to her's for just a second before she lets go of the fact I completely screwed her over. 

I'm about to pull away when she pushes her tongue past my lips, her nails running over my back through my shirt as her legs wrap around my hips, one of her hands in my knotted hair.

As always, I end up eating her like a starved pervert, relishing in the sounds of her moans and gasps. 

The truth is, she may hate me, but I'm good at getting her off and she knows it.

Once she comes and we start getting ourselves together to go inside, I look over at her. 

"So, are we good?" I ask her, oh, so fucking stupidly, and she blinks at me. 

"What?" 

"Are we good?" 

She catches on to what I mean, and rubs her lips together. 

"Nikki, you could fuck me into oblivion, which you can't because I'm never letting you fucking touch me again, and we still wouldn't be good. Not even close to 'good'. You can't have an affair with my friend and then expect everything to be good just because we fooled around while you were stoned out of your mind." She snaps and I roll my jaw as she gets out and slams the door, stomping to the back entrance of the venue. 

For the first time I feel the sting of rejection. 

Is this how groupies feel? 

I never thought once about getting head, leaving them in the limo and going on about my business. 

Anger boils in me, Sikki chomping at the bit. 

That selfish bitch! 

I get out and go after her. 

I don't know what the fuck I'm gonna say to her, but I'm mad. 

"How dare you use me to get your rocks off and then toss me aside?", no, because I've done that to her a couple times...but that's because she's into it. 

I swear she comes harder when I randomly come up behind her and just start going at it because she knows I'm just using her to get off and then leave her wherever I stopped her, and go out right after and wouldn't think twice about it. 

But me? I'm so used to her looking at me like I'm God while I have my full attention on making her feel good, and she has the audacity to get off on my face and then kick me to the curb and tell me I'm never touching her again?! 

I decided it wasn't worth the fist fight it would inevitably turn into by the time I got inside, but and looking back, she had every reason to get me horny and then swear off ever letting me get near her again. It was petty, but smart. And despite having sex one last time not long after that instance, the point was still made clear. For the first time in our relationship, the acceptance of sexual advances didn't take the place of forgiveness.

[hainethehero]

The HARRINGROVE War AU that no one asked for...

"Jetty!"

"Oh fuck!"

"Fucking hell man! We're fucking dead-"

"Shut the fuck up Meyers!"

"Andrews! Get the medic!"

"Fuck- my goddamn arm!"

"Tommy-!"

The sounds are still in his head, knocking around his brain inside his skull. His eyes haven't closed in days and he's pretty sure his skin is falling off his bones. He feels sick and dirty and his hair feels dirty and unkempt. It had grown back so fast in the short period of time he'd been here... in Hell.

His body hurts, bones jarring and scraping against each other with every movement. There's a throbbing on the left side of his ribs, and the stinging pain of a festering wound on his right. It's been burning for days. His legs are sore, right leg wrapped up to the knee and oozing thick, dark red. The bandages around his head have started getting sticky with sickening ointment and congealed blood. His lips sting painfully every time he passes his tongue over them. They're cracked and busted in several places, red and raw where the skin's been opened.

God, what had they done to him?

He feels a presence near him and freezes, even though the bombs ringing in his head don't quite stop exploding.

"Hi Ms. Nancy, how's he been?"

"You're always right on time Soldier."

The woman's voice sounds familiar but he can't place it in his hazed state.

"I made him a promise." The man responds, a dark, echoing loneliness in his voice.

"Of course," Ms. Nancy replies, walking closer to fix something very near to his left side.

And somehow, his body fails him and goes stiff, sitting upright with his eyes wide and frightened. His jaw is locked tight and his fists are clenched, knuckles white. Every instinct in his body is warning him to get away- to run away from the danger, as if he'd be torn apart by the bomb Ms. Nancy was currently setting atop the bed. A terrified whine escapes his throat and a solitary tear runs down his pale cheek.

"He's been getting worse huh?" The Soldier asks, not unkindly, just kind of sad.

"So far, we've only seen nine cases of men recovering from shell-shock. It's not promising... one of them died last night."

"Died? Did it spread?"

"No Soldier. He put a gun in his mouth."

There's a sudden silence that falls over them, cold breeze billowing through the over-arching windows of the stone Catholic church they'd set up the triage in. Even the pained and terrified moans and cries of grown men had fallen into the hush, as if God himself were present.

Then Ms. Nancy speaks again:

"There's been a new shipment of iodine and sodium hydroxide today. From the French. We've been ordered to ration it but I think he needs his wounds cleaned again."

"Thank you."

........................

He hates when the nurse bathes him.

Hates how useless it makes him feel. Hates that he'd become so cowardly, like a child afraid of the dark. Her thin but gentle hands wash over him, soothingly passing the clean water over his skin, careful not to disturb the wounds. But he feels so wounded all over.

By the time he's back in bed, the night has taken over for the day, and hundreds of his comrades have already conceded to sleep. But he stays wide awake, terrified and paranoid that a bomb's going to go off in the middle of the night and kill everyone while they rest peacefully. So he keeps his rifle by his bedside, ready for a fight.

"Goodnight Soldier." Ms. Nancy says softly, not to him, but to the man sitting beside him.

The Soldier's been with him since the trenches. He was a good man, and a steady presence of stability in these crazy days. He could recall some kind of kinship between them, comprised of half-hearted banter, terrible jokes and early morning conversations that were for their ears only. Talking to him had made being in those vile and unsanitary trenches a little better. They often talked about being back home, safe and surrounded by friends who loved them. Their families were another story but that was beside the point.

"Got a letter today," the Soldier tells him, drinking out of an aluminium canteen. His finger twitches, almost as if he's fighting to respond but is paralyzed to do so.

"From Maxine."

Maxine was Soldier's sister...

She told me that my Dad and Susan were planning to move out of California. Stupid, right? She said something about Indiana, and starting over in a small town. Who knows pretty boy? They might even move to that good ol' Hawkins you keep telling me about."

Pretty Boy... that's Soldier's pet name for him.

"A letter came for you too. From your father."

He must've gasped in shock because suddenly the Soldier is staring up at him with those unreal blue eyes, lips slightly parted in surprise. He feels the Soldier's hand on his shoulder and it's warm and comforting. It beds down the shock a little bit; shock at the fact that his father had written a letter to him. He may have been in shell-shock but even his mind could recall the time when John Harrington said that he was dead to him. That until he'd made something of himself, he would never be accepted- would never be his son.

"Steve? You with me kid?"

Kid.

The Soldier always called him that, despite being not much older himself. He preferred that nickname to rookie though, since he'd only just started while the Soldier had been on this tour since late last year. He remembers the absolute feeling of dread that had filled his body when the draft had come around and his name was on that godforsaken piece of paper. His parents had been all too ecstatic to ship him off on his merry way. He'd been writing to them, feverishly begging for their mercy. Hadn't gotten a letter back since he'd started writing to them.

"Wh- ...what d...does it say?" he hears himself ask softly, throat shaking with emotion. "Can- ...um, can you read it to me Bill?"

Billy- no longer the abstract Soldier in his mind- sighs and leans over in the chair, elbows resting on his knees. He's holding a piece of paper in his hands, fists closed tight, his knuckles white.

"Please Bill..."

"Hold on pretty boy," Billy whispers as gently as he can, blue eyes staring hard at the neat, professional penmanship of who must've been John Harrington, Steve's father. It was concise and void of any kind of human emotion.

"Steve,

Stop sending us letters. It upsets your mother and I'm much too busy to sit down and write replies."

Billy feels his heart break into pieces for the poor kid and he doesn't have the heart to put him through such harsh words. He folds it up quickly and clears his throat.

"Y'know what? I brought Max's letter by accident."

"W- what?"

"Must've left it in the command wing. It's fine, we can always get it some other time."

Steve looks at him, big brown doe-eyes confused and sad at the same time. "What if it's an emergency?"

Billy scoffs. "Trust me, they ain't fighting a war back in ol' Hawkins. Your folks can wait. You on the other hand, need to get some sleep."

A soft smile creeps up on Steve's pretty face and he blushes soft pink. "Well at least tell me what's been going on Boss."

That was his pet name for Billy.

"Where's Tommy?"

Billy's expression suddenly changes and he's no longer pained. Just angry. And lost and so fucking confused. War brought out the worst in men, and it was always hard to fight alongside the corpses of men he'd spent weeks, months in the trenches with. They were all family, and losing even one of them was the worst pains Billy had ever faced.

Steve's hopeful expression turns ever so slightly and now he looks awfully worried.

"Bill? Billy where's Tommy?"

Billy glances up into the kid's eyes and sees nothing but hopelessness there as realization dawns upon him. Steve bursts into wailing tears and crashes back onto the pillows, hands covering his face. His wails trigger some of the sleeping men and they wake up in a shock, disgruntled yells and curses filling the large hall.

"Settle down Soldier," a tired looking nurse hisses, looking more panicked than mad. She gives Billy a pointed glare and goes about on her way to putting the terrified men back to sleep.

Billy sighs and shushes Steve as gently as he can, petting the boy's soft hair until he quiets. He feels a weariness wash over him and crawls into the bed to lay down next to the kid. Steve wastes no time in burying his face in Billy's neck, silent sobs wracking through his frail body. Billy wraps him up in his arms, a scalding hot wave of protectiveness flaring inside his chest.

"It's okay kid, I've got you. I promise," he whispers in Steve's ear, stroking his back in slow, deliberate motions. The pretty brunette cries and cries until he cries himself to sleep, snuggled into the larger soldier, as if he was the only protection he needed.

Billy just holds him through the night.