#and when they feel even worse they get quiet which they hate but unfortunately being around real people in real timelines is v overwhelming

[beneathsilverstars]

siffrin post-canon h/c is like "dw you're not actually mean, we love you!" and loop post-canon h/c is like "yes you are mean, and we still love you!"

[radiance1]

Danny hates John Constantine.

Well, he doesn't him, but he does hate whenever Constantine needs him.

Each and every summon was just... not ideal, for him at least.

He was summoned while he was about to go sleep.

Summoned when he was asleep.

Summoned when he was going to the bathroom.

Summoned when he was using the bathroom.

Summoned while he was getting ready to take a bath.

Summoned when he was in a bath.

Summoned while in the middle of undressing/redressing.

Summoned while getting attacked by living food.

Summoned when he was about to fall flat on his face.

You know, very embarrassing things.

The most recent time he was summoned was the most embarrassing he's ever been seen though.

He was currently hiding in one of his 'safehouses' from a run in with both his parents and the GIW, now normally, that wouldn't be a problem. Because both his healing factor, durability, and wit would usually get him off home free.

Not this time.

The GIW apparently had some new technology that, while experimental, was made specifically against ghost, and while that's basically most of their tech this one was... different.

Safe to say, he got hit more than one, and then for the first time since, well, forever he's had to run for his life. He managed to get away from them, trying to hold his wounds together with his hands and into an alleyway, that he planned to phase through to get to the nearest 'safe house' (that was really just an abandoned building with some medical supplies that he never needed to use) when his father found him.

He got shot, again, and fell to the floor. He looked at his father with an expression he doesn't even know, but he knew he was scared.

Whatever Jack Fenton saw that stalled him from shooting, and instead a pained look on his face, Danny would probably never know. But he took that time to phase through the wall and book it to the safe house.

Safe to say, he uh, wasn't having the greatest time.

He tried sewing up his wounds, and that wasn't the greatest thing, because his hands were shaky both from pain and feeling like he would faint, using alcohol was even worse, really. The black spots trying to cover his eyes made it harder to see where exactly he was sewing, but he would take that over nothing.

Plus, also, how he didn't know how to sew.

He managed to bandage up most of the major wounds, though it was sloppy as shit. He was just getting to the last one, which was a pretty massive one over his chest that he poured alcohol on.

His shaky hands made him spill far more than he intended, and he had to bite down on something to stop him from screaming. Maybe he shouldn't have done that.

His hands were shaking, but he just had to apply this last bandage, sloppy as it would be, and then he could somehow try and find his way home and then go out like a light.

Which made it unfortunate, that Constantine decided this would be the best time to summon him.

He hates being the ghost prince sometimes, this is one of those times.

He expected only Constantine, so imagine his surprise when he was standing (Oh shit he think he'll either puke, fall down, or both.) in front of way more than just Constantine.

He thinks Constantine said they were the Justice League or something? He doesn't really remember, both with the pain and taking in details from another dimension wasn't really his thing.

The room was extremely quite, so, so very quiet. Said quiet made Danny feel extremely uncomfortable, and fidgety under all of their combined gazes.

So he cracked a joke.

Not his best one, he would admit, but it was funny at least!

So why was he the only one laughing?

[weirdlookingsnakewithlegs]

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe being sparklings during the war? Funny af

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe being sparklings during the war and getting snatched up by Autbots? Not so funny

The only way I can think of it happening is maybe one of the trine taking the two out on a scouting mission where they end up getting shot down and taken into Autobot custody. Of course, which ever seeker was shot down is definitely much more worried about the sparklings in their cockpit than being apprehended by the opposing faction.

For humor purposes I say it was Skywarp.

Now, Skywarp is definitely the type of mech that likes to lash out not just physically but with his EM field as well, but he can’t do that with the sparklings because they’re really sensitive to that sort of stuff. So, the Autobots are thinking something is wrong because Skywarp has never held back is EM field and he’s being more reserved, not lashing out physically but he’s still making snide comments and insulting every Autobot within radius.

It’s probably just when they get to the Autobots base that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker start making noise because they love being convenient. It starts with soft chirps, barely noticeable to anyone but Skywarp and unfortunately he’s cuffed, tending to two sparklings while cuffed in an extremely difficult task. He can only hope they stay quiet.

And then Sideswipe starts shrieking and suddenly all optics are on him. I think Skywarp could only really give a nervous smile and take a step back before somebot like Prowl is up in his face and questioning what that noise is.

Eventually, after way too much verbal bullying, Skywarp is forced to open his cockpit and he has to scramble because both of them are immediately attempting to escape.

Now that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are out in the open it’s pretty clear of what they are, hell their frames are probably just now gaining color at this point.

Red Alert is around I just know he’s accusing him of stealing the little ones because and I quote, “They look nothing like you.”

“They take after their sire.”

“They aren’t seekers.”

“Their sire was a race alt?” Truth is Starscream never told them.

“Who’s the creator?”

“Starscream.”

Immediate silence and Skywarp realizes that maybe he should have claimed the little scraplets but the problem with that is that these two are very sure of who their creator is and would never play along with that idea. Plus that would just confuse them and the last thing he wants is a lecture from Starscream but at this point it may be too late.

The two sparklings, now settled on the ground and hiding behind Skywarp’s legs, are not having it. Their little optics are glaring at every Autobot in vicinity and Sideswipe is even flaring his very unformed door wings at the nearest one.

The group at the moment probably consists of Prowl, Red Alert, and Jazz but now that sparklings of all things were involved, Ratchet and Optimus were sure to be offered a spot in the ring of fools.

Skywarp is immediately shoved(he’s being dramatic) towards the medbay, sparklings hot on his thrusters. Sunstreaker doesn’t bother with the chase, doing his usual cling onto Skywarp’s leg which makes the seeker more hobble than walk. Yet, the moment they reach the medbay, all civil nature is out the door.

One thing Skywarp hates more than Autobots? Medics. And what’s worse than that? An Autobot Medic.

Immediately the seeker’s wings are hiked up the moment he’s on the medberth, positioned to a point they show off any injury sustained from being shot down but also to the point it puts strain on his hinges. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe probably try to copy him only to whine when they feel how uncomfortable it is because ow.

Now, Ratchet is… somewhat civil, and by somewhat I mean he’s actively yelling and waving a wrench at whoever thought it would be a great idea to shoot down one of the Elite Trine especially while he was carrying sparklings. The answers he gets are not satisfactory and both Prowl and Red Alert are chased out, Jazz leaves before things even got bad.

Now, mind you, it’s only Skywarp, the sparklings, Ratchet, and Optimus fragging Prime in the med bay. Skywarp is trembling like a leaf and Ratchet hasn’t even addressed him yet. The sparklings are just as frightened by Skywarp’s reaction and have probably cuddled up tightly against the seeker’s cockpit, though they refuse to go back in.

Eventually a very long conversation is had and Optimus ends up being forced to call the Decepticons to tell them that their missing sparklings were ready to be retrieved. He doesn’t expect to see Megatron cowering when the call is accepted, he also doesn’t expect the amount of screeching in the background.

“Prime.”

At least Megatron still has the class to pretend he’s not terrified out of his processor.

“TELL PRIME I’LL DEACTIVATE HIM”

“Starscream wishes to tell you-“

“I heard… I have called to inform you that we will be handing the sparklings over, along with Skywarp.”

“We will be there to pick them up.” Megatron just barely dodges something being thrown at him, “Starscream is already leaving.” He adds and the call flickers out.

[nicksbestie]

Hey! If it’s not too much to ask, could you write a fic where Matt is a little bit tried to hide that he’s slipped from his partner (I don’t mind female or gender neutral :))? Thank you angel ��💜💜

Hiding - M. Sturniolo

Summary : Despite being incredibly loved and supported, your boyfriend still struggles a lot with anxiety about how he chooses to cope. Good thing you can always tell when he needs you <3

Pairing : Matt Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

Warnings : mentions of anxiety, worrying

Word Count : 1124

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

Your boyfriend was the sweetest person that you had ever met. You had never met someone who was so genuinely kind hearted, despite everything that they had dealt with and been through, and you considered yourself so incredibly lucky to have such a darling person in your life, especially being your partner. He dealt with a lot in his life, especially now that he was a public figure, and you knew that could become incredibly difficult for him. It often showed in his time off of the camera, as his job was not stress free. His anxiety could often be uncontrollable, and it was something that he had struggled with for his entire life. 

He had been through so many coping mechanisms in his life, desperately trying to find something that would ease his worries, and it took him a long time to find something comfortable for him. He took a while before he even told you about it, a little worried and afraid that he would be judged by you, despite knowing that you loved him unconditionally. When he finally told you that he had chosen regression as a coping mechanism, you comforted him with open arms, telling him that you were insanely proud of him, knowing that it had been difficult to overcome the anxiety swelling in his mind to just tell you about it. 

Matt was the sweetest little, his age falling around the toddler range, and he was the most gentle baby you’d ever taken care of. He was quiet, fairly introverted, and extremely cuddly. He was a very loving little one, and he was nearly always happy while he was in headspace. He’s a cute baby, but sometimes, his anxiety follows him into his littlespace. Every now and then, it really got to him, and he was even more attached to you, terrified of the world, trusting you to take care of him and keep him safe. Because of this anxiety sometimes getting to him, during these days, he often fought his regression, feeling extremely self conscious about it, but you were always there to help him relax. 

Today was clearly one of those days. You had noticed that Matt had been picking at his nails a lot, his eyes always darting back and forth, and his body just generally screamed that he was anxious. You had done everything you could to help that day, hugging him lots, texting and telling him lots of words of encouragement, making sure that you were never far from him just in case he needed you. You didn’t know what had caused today to be such a bad day, but it was entirely possible that it was simply just one of those days. Anxiety can be unpredictable, and maybe he had just woken up unlucky today. You were supportive throughout the entire day, ignoring the nagging feeling in your chest, knowing that Matt hadn’t had time to regress in multiple days now. 

When he had to go many days without his form of stress relief, it often caused his anxiety to get a lot worse. You had a feeling that he really needed to have little time, but it was clear that he was busy today. He had a lot to do for filming videos, brand collabs, getting set up to film the next podcast episodes, and he had nearly been working nonstop for the past week. You knew deep down that he needed to relax, but you unfortunately had to wait and support him through the day first. The day continued, they finished filming a car video, and the second that Matt pulled into the garage, you immediately went downstairs to check on him. Nick and Chris thundered out of the car, laughing about some stupid joke, not noticing how Matt threw his head back into the seat, eyes closing, and a deep sigh leaving his lips, before putting his head in his hands. 

You hurriedly opened the door, helping him out of the car and pulling him into a deep hug, helping him walk back up the stairs. His exhaustion was written all over his face, and you could feel it as he let you carry half of his weight. You helped him change into more comfortable clothing, and he immediately threw himself down on the bed, curling up into you when you laid down next to him. You wrapped your arms around him, rubbing his back and running a hand through his hair, gently whispering comforts and praise, noticing the way he slowly went completely silent. You let him lay there in quiet for a while, hugging him, and softly kissing his forehead before speaking. 

“Are you okay, honey?” 

He simply nodded into your chest, not answering, and you had a suspicion that he was slipping, and trying to hide the fact that he was feeling little. You didn’t want to pressure him, wanting to give him the space to tell you himself, but you didn’t think he was going to do that tonight, so you spoke again. 

“Okay, sweetheart. I’m here if you need me, alright bubba?” 

Before you knew it, loud sobs were filling the room, Matt hugging you tighter and attempting to make himself appear smaller, clearly feeling immense levels of fear and embarrassment. Your eyes softened, continuing to comfort him while he cried. 

“Oh, angel. Deep breaths, baby, you’re safe. You’re going to be okay, my love, I’ve got you. Nothing to worry about anymore, honey, I’m going to make sure you’re taken care of.” 

It seemed to only make him cry harder, unable to speak to save his life, simply clinging to you and crying out all of his frustrations into the person he trusted with his life, his most vulnerable headspace. You reassured him, whispering sweet nothings to him while he cried it out, slowly stopping the tears, hiccuping a little bit, and if he wasn’t so sad, you would’ve found it so cute. You gently wiped his tears away, pressing little kisses to his forehead and cheeks, keeping him in your arms so he felt encased, but in the safest possible way. When he cried this hard, and had this bad of a day, he always cried himself right into a nap, and you were patiently expecting it. 

You knew he needed the rest, and you kept him held close to your body, his stuffed animal clutched in his arms, tears drying, and slowly yawning. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep against you, face flushed, and you held him as he slept, knowing that no matter what mood he was in when he woke up, you would always be here to take care of him, and he didn’t have to hide.

~ taglist : @blahbel668 @strnilo @mattsgirlfrieeend @69isabella69 @mayhem-72 @iculdstealurgf @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturnioloslife @heartsforkarina @nervousrebelglitter @sturniclo @elliegrace-7 @mattsturnioloisbae

~ if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!

[modanisgf]

028. A PEARL (WRITTEN)

wc: <1k

prev | next | masterlist

unfortunately for you, you felt so alone on your ‘date’ that you stayed in the rain for a while causing you to wake up sick. you felt horrible that morning, being sick and sad didn’t mix well.

you tried not to cry but you couldn’t help it, you thought you and hanni had finally made amends but apparently you were wrong. who would ever make their girlfriend wait for them at a date?

did hanni even love you?

thoughts about what hanni truly felt for you ran through your mind, until you decided to close your eyes again refusing to look at your phone. you hoped nobody would come by your house, especially not hanni as right now you needed anything but to see the girl’s face. you think you would breakdown in front of her, something she didn’t need to see.

you knew your friends had their concerns for you, but you hoped they’ve known you long enough now to give you some space before checking up. especially when it dealt with love, dating wasn’t easy as an actor nobody wanted to deal with the harsh reality of fame so when you finally found hanni you felt extremely happy.

you thought she would understand your problems, but maybe she just wanted to mess with you. but who really knows? all you could do was lay in your bed, reality setting in as you finally closed your eyes drifting off to a deep sleep.

—

you were awoken by a sudden crash, presumably downstairs. you got up from bed quickly, rushing down your stairs to be met with people in your kitchen.

“riki! you’re so damn loud!” hyein whisper yells, her voice getting softer as she noticed you.

“hi yn..” hyein says, giving you a nervous smile.

“how the hell did you guys get in my house?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“you gave danielle an extra key when she lived here for a bit.” hyein replies, to which you sigh.

“look, i love you guys so much but i really just think now isn’t the time.” you say, your friends looking at you with pity.

their looks did nothing to comfort you, just reminding you how real this situation was. you diverted your attention from them, looking through an open window to see the rain back again. it was like it knew when you were sad, coming back to make you feel even worse everytime.

“well, we made you soup!” danielle says, making you smile a bit.

“thank you guys. i appreciate it.” you say sheepishly, you were embarrassed they had to see you like this.

it had been a long time since you’d been heartbroken like this, only sunoo and danielle knew about your past relationships the two being your friends during it. you felt you could never find peace in love, but you tried to push those feelings aside putting on your best face for your friends especially hyein and riki.

you all went to sit in your living room, hyein turning on a show creating a quiet conversation between your friends. hyein and riki even whisper fighting, making you laugh.

for some reason your laugh comforted your friends, the group smiling whenever you did happy that their presence made you feel at least a bit better. you focused on the show, invested in whatever plot line was being solved now.

your phone was long forgotten, the rest of your friends also having theirs off for the sake of you. little did you all know, hanni wasn’t doing amazing either.

—

hanni couldn’t believe herself, she feel asleep when you wanted her to meet up with you. you weren’t answering her texts, or anything the only thing about you she had was hyein telling her to watch out on twitter, riki commenting and agreeing aswell.

she had to stop herself from tears, why weren’t you answering her? couldn’t you let her explain herself? hanni had never wanted someone more than you, your presence giving her nothing but happiness and peace. she hoped you didn’t think she hated you, but the possibility was strong. maybe you were just taking a quick internet break? the possibilities only ran through her mind at a even more rapid pace as each one passed on, making her feel crazy.

hanni was texting minji in panic, the girl on the other end doing her best to comfort hanni but nothing seemed to work. hanni valued you too much, and she didn’t know what she would do without you. she wanted a future with you, to see you walk down the aisle slowly approaching her with your eyes locked on hers. she wanted you two to have a house together, having a family of two cats and four dogs. okay— maybe she was getting a bit carried away, but the point is hanni had nothing but strong love for you.

she needed to get you back, no matter what she has to do.

your love went too deep for a simple misunderstanding to ruin it all, hanni swore she wouldn’t let it happen.

TAGS 🏷️ (CLOSED): @jayjj7 @haerinsloverr @aribunnu @masuowo @multiliker @winieter @sewiouslyz @edenzeepy @popasi @home2venus @ghstvr @technicallyimportantsweets @he------len @yukianism @yeetaberry127 @haechansbbg @linnnsworld @sixflame438 @emotionallyrin @gtfoiydlyj @inosfavgf @rvoulte @hotluvlet

a/n— next few chapters might be crazy guys writing sad stuff while emo is NOT a good idea..

[yazzwrites6962]

Second Chances ♡ Shuntaro Chishiya

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Shuntaro Chishiya x GN!Spouse!Reader ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Author's Note: UNEDITED! This is a Chishiya POV post. I haven't written anything like it before, so bear with me. Also, I know it's super short. It was a quick little thing I wrote between lectures. I don't own any characters/images.

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Summary: CHISHIYA POV! Chishiya's motivation for making it through the Borderlands was returning to his partner and being the best husband he could possibly be upon coming back.

Word Count: 1362

Warnings: Angst, OOC Chishiya, brief mentions of blood, injury

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The wedding band was small, and lacked meaning to anyone who would've passed it by on the street. Just a simple ring of silver, scratched in a couple places from years of wear. It always sat in Chishiya's pocket for his fingers to brush over when he needed a reminder of what he fought for. The band became heavier now, as he recalled why he had taken it off.

He slipped it off in anger, a petty response to a fight that had spiraled out of control. While his partner shouted and cried with a voice trembling, begging to be heard, he remained calm. He was always too calm, too cold, using his composure as a weapon. This only infuriated his spouse more, and that's how he liked it. He liked watching them stumble over their words, struggling to claw their way through his defenses. It was not fair to them. He had never been fair to them.

"I can't keep doing this, Chishiya. I can't be the only one trying." They had tears rolling down their cheeks, arms waving emotionally. They were always just too emotional. "This is unbearable." Their voice cracked with pain.

"If you think it's so unbearable, then maybe we should not have done this in the first place." His voice was flat, lacking feeling, as it always was. He regret saying it the moment the words slipped from his lips. Their hurt expression was too much, but he wouldn't dare apologize now. "Don't you think I already have enough on my plate? I don't need this right now."

He slipped his ring off his finger, pinching it between his thumb and index, flashing it to his lover. Why would he do that? He questioned the act almost immediately, but it was too late. They had already turned away, sobbing and slamming the door to their shared bedroom.

They'd been so full of love before, back when they were both young and reckless, defying the world together. Nobody believed they would last. They were simply too different. Teachers, parents, friends: They all advised against the relationship. They were both stupid and stubborn enough to believe love was all they needed. Even Chishiya believed it.

The moment he saw them, their gleaming eyes and electric smile, he was intrigued. Infatuated. Then, he knew their soul. He learned how truly good they were, and he realized there could never be another person so different from him. He loved it. He loved them, truly. That's why they married so young, despite the protests of everyone. Unfortunately, life had a way of wearing things down.

He began to pull away under the weight of his new expectations in his career. Affection became a distraction he couldn't afford. Their open, unconditional love became something he resented rather than cherished. They simply expected too much. He grew distant, believing he would be stronger for it. He hadn't even realized how manipulative he had become until that fight. He had become cruel, like his father. Everything he hoped he would not be.

They didn't speak again, that night. They didn't speak the next morning either. Chishiya was forced to sleep on the couch, which put him in an even worse mood once he woke. There was no breakfast waiting for him, like usual. His spouse was still locked in their bedroom. Chishiya slipped the ring into his pocket, opting to get some fresh air.

The Borderlands gave him plenty of time to think, though he hated it. He hated the quiet moments between games, where his mind wandered back to their face. Their smile. The way it felt when they kissed. When was the last time they kissed? He couldn't even recall. He hated remembering the last look they had ever given him: So hurt, broken, and full of love.

What if they were here too? Playing these deathly games? Risking their life in hopes of finding him? A worse thought bubbled up into his mind: What if they were already dead? It would have been his fault. He left them vulnerable, and unprotected. He was too wrapped up in his own pride to fix what he had broken.

Now, laying bloody, leaned up against a car, Chishiya toyed with the thought of returning home. He told himself they may be better off without him. He fought so hard to make it to the end, only to question himself the most now. Maybe they'd be happier if he didn't come back.

Yet, his hand drifted to his pocket. The smooth ring which nobody knew he had was still there, fortunately. He couldn't let it go. As much as he tried to convince himself he didn't deserve them. The truth was, he wanted to go back. He wanted to fix it, even if he didn't know how.

As the Borderlands dissolved, he was faced with a simple choice: Return or stay. If he went back, he would have to face everything he had done. If he stayed, he would have to endure whatever came next without them.

"I think... I'll decline."

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The familiar beeping of hospital monitors and fluorescent lights is what Chishiya awoke to. There was peace, and silence, despite the strange man he shared a room with. They weren't there. Minutes passed, and they simply were not there. Chishiya's heart sank, realizing it may have been too late.

Suddenly, the door flung open and they dashed to Chishiya's side, eyes full of tears. Their arms wrapped around him tightly, as if fearing he might disappear. For the first time in a long time, he returned the hug.

"T-This was such a mess!" They began, and Chishiya let them speak. "I-I had no idea where you were! Our apartment is completely wrecked!" That's when Chishiya noticed the bandages his partner was littered in. He was about to ask, but they continued. "You walked right into the worst place you could've possibly been at the time of the strike! You were dead! Then they wouldn't tell me where your room was, and they wouldn't let me visit! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have yelled at you-"

"No, I'm sorry." Chishiya spoke calmly, finally sneaking a word in through his spouse's flurry of panic. His voice sounded weaker, scratchier than he wished it were. "It's okay. I'm alright. Are you alright?" He relaxed into the hug, smelling their comforting scent.

"I got trapped under some rubble, but it was no biggie. You're the one who's heart stopped!" They finally began to pull away from the hug, worried they would hurt Chishiya, but he tugged them back into his arms. He missed this. "I'm so sorry. You never would've left the apartment if it weren't for all my whining. I thought I lost you."

"I'm here. I won't leave you, ever." Chishiya remembered their vows, the ones he recited so eagerly on their wedding day. Even then, his partner was crying. They were always crying. He chuckled. They were so emotional, and he realized how fond of it he was.

Chishiya noticed his ring on the table beside them. Finally, he released his spouse from the hug, reaching to put the jewelry back on. Though it had been less than a day, he felt like it had been off for much longer, and he couldn't bear another second without it. He slipped it back over his finger, flashing a rare smile at his lover.

"I love you." He said for the first time in a long time. He meant it. He was no longer unsure of affection from his partner. It was as though this near-death experience brought him a revelation that he was all too grateful for. "I will prove it to you. I cannot take back much of what has already been said, but I will prove it again."

"Oi, can we tone down the sappy shit?" A gruff voice from behind the curtain hollered. "We get it, you lucky bastard. You've got someone to love you." Chishiya chuckled, his eyes on his partner. His hand intertwined with theirs, squeezing it tightly, like a promise that he wouldn't let go.

"I really am a lucky bastard."

[lumosandnoxwriting]

now I wake up by your side || George Weasley

Title: now i wake up by your side Pairing: George x Reader Summary: You know what they say, what goes up must always come back down. Except George thought he was the exception to that rule. Because with things going so well for him there’s no way they’d ever end. Unfortunately for George the higher you go, the harder you fall. And as he watches Y/N walk away from him for the last time he finally realizes how true that saying is. Because George Weasley has officially run out of time, and everything has started to crumble around him.  Warnings: NSFW! Minors DNI this contains female masturbation, male masturbation, dirty talk and phone sex.  A/N: ahhhhh the second to last part of hockey!george!! I hope you all enjoy - feedback is always welcome and appreciated!

-

 The apartment is too quiet without George around. 

This is the part about being with a hockey player that Y/N has always hated: away games. If she thought it was bad when George was in the junior league, it’s even worse in the NHL. Unlike the NFL and some other professional sports, there’s 82 games in the regular season, with the potential for there to be 28 additional games for a team that makes it to the Stanley Cup finals. 

Meaning from the end of September until at least the middle of April, hockey players spend more time on the road than they do at home. Instead of being gone for a day or two, when they hit a stretch of away games it’s common for a team to be on the road for up to two weeks. 

And unfortunately for Y/N, preseason has taken the Rebels away for the next 10 days. The timing couldn’t be any worse either, considering the fact that now that she and George have crossed the boundary of physical intimacy her body craves his touch, and it seems like she’s walking around in a perpetual state of horniness. And it’s only been 48 hours.

Worse off is that the team left for the road just two days after their first game, so they didn’t really even get to talk about where this new development in their supposedly fake relationship leaves them. Because to Y/N, George claiming her body from the inside out several times during their brief time together is everything but fake. 

And it’s not just the sex that Y/N misses. 

That first night George was gone she tossed and turned all night, only sleeping for an hour or two at a time before she’d wake up missing the feel of his arms around her. Dousing George’s pillow in his cologne and hugging it tightly as she slept  last night worked a little, but she still didn't wake up feeling well rested. 

She especially misses the mundane aspects of their life together. Like the fact that there wasn’t a fresh pot of coffee waiting for her when she woke up. And even though George still found time to get her during the day, their conversations weren’t filled with plans for dinner and what to watch on TV, which filled Y/N with a pang of sadness. That first afternoon she’d even made George’s usual protein shake, and it wasn’t until she wrapped up her work day at 5:30, a full hour after George should have been home, did she remember he wouldn’t be around for days. 

Even just the absence of hearing him breathe has her heart aching. 

Thankfully their first road game is tonight, and she’ll get her fill of George time while she watches. Even if it’s through the TV and he’ll be wearing all of his gear. It’s better than nothing. 

Jenny invited her over to watch the game with Olivia and some other partners, and even though she kind of wanted to just mope around the apartment, Y/N found herself saying yes and now that she’s settled on the couch between Olivia and Kate she’s happy that she came. Because even though they aren’t George, Y/N’s heart feels full being surrounded by the women she’s gotten to know over the past few weeks. 

This fake engagement hasn’t only brought George back into her life, it’s brought this amazing group of people into it too, and Y/N can’t imagine having to say goodbye to any of them. Which, unfortunately, is a thought that has crossed her mind several times since George kissed her goodbye two days ago. And without him by her side to squash those negative thoughts she’s let them run rampant. 

Losing George will absolutely shatter her heart. But losing George and all of these people? It will shatter her soul. 

Which is why Y/N plans on confronting George as soon as he gets back from this road trip. Not knowing where their relationship stands is slowly killing her, and Y/N needs to know if they’re both on the same page. It’s time to either move forward together, or for Y/N to pack her bags and head home to Washington with her tail tucked between her legs and her entire world shattered. 

Thankfully someone switches the TV on as the game starts, and the chatter of the announcers pulls Y/N out of the depressive swirl her thoughts were taking her down. Warmups have just ended, and as they get ready for things to really start, the commentators talk about the match up. 

“It’s still early yet, but I’ve got to say, Steve, the Rebels are looking mighty fine this season.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Jim. After their devastating loss in the playoffs last season and the retirement of their team captain, Tyler Crawford, we were skeptical that they’d be able to wrangle it in and start this season off strong - and boy am I glad to say we were wrong.”

“Absolutely, Steve. Working with a whole new slew of Rookies can be difficult, especially without a Captain, but the Rebels sure have shown what a strong team they are.”

“And I’m sure we have George Weasley, the Rebel’s starting Center and one of the top scorers in the league to thank for the team’s starting success. We’ve had the pleasure of sitting in on some Rebel’s practices this training camp and I can see why Weasley is the front runner for Captain. The way he commands his team is truly awe-inspiring.”

Their praise of George and his skills makes Y/N’s cheeks flush. She’s so damn proud of George and everything he has accomplished in his career. Ever since they were little kids learning to skate together George has been determined to be a star in the NHL, and seeing that dream come to reality makes every single struggle and hurdle their relationship has gone through worth it. 

“Weasley certainly has stepped up to the plate since Crawford, his mentor’s retirement. If the rumor mill is to be believed all us Rebels fans’ have a pretty girl from Weasley’s hometown to thank for that.”

The girls all squeal at the mention of Y/N and George’s relationship, and she can feel her cheeks flush even deeper.

“Jim, you are worse than my wife when it comes to those gossip rags. But, after Weasley scored his two goals during the team’s first preseason game he did raise his stick, pointing it towards the box reserved for the Rebel’s friends and families, which fans have affectionately dubbed the WAG box, and one of the camera’s did catch him mouthing the words ‘that was for you’, so it’s safe to say the rumor mill may actually be onto something for once.”

“Well whoever that mystery woman is I hope you stick around, because I’d love to see Chicago take home the cup this year.”

They move on to talk about the team the Rebel’s are up against, North Carolina, and Y/N relaxes back into her seat. No worries, Steve, she definitely plans on sticking around.

-

That night when Y/N makes it back to their apartment her heart is full, and she doesn’t miss George as much as she did earlier. Because during the game George scored a hat trick, and after every single goal his stick rose to the camera, still seeking her out from thousands of miles away, and the lens zoomed in as he mouthed those same four words that never fail to increase her heart rate. 

“That was for you.”

And if that wasn’t enough to squash all of her doubts about the status of their relationship, he’d actually did a post game interview, and when he was asked about his new mystery girl, George had looked directly into the camera, like he was starting right into Y/N’s eyes and said:

“She knows who she is. I can’t wait to come home to you every day for the rest of my life, baby.”

Now she’s in their bedroom, stripping off all of her clothes except for George’s jersey, before she climbs into bed to wait for his call. 

It’s something they always used to do whenever he was on the road. Instead of going out with the guy’s to celebrate a win or commensurate over a loss, George would head straight back to the hotel to spend the night on the phone with her. 

They hadn’t discussed if that would be the case this time around in their relationship, but Y/N had been confident that it would be considering the other traditions George has continued. And the texts she received from him after the game set her belly on fire and had her pussy throbbing. 

George: fuck I miss you baby, i don’t want to celebrate a win unless you’re there with me

George: i know how wet you get watching your man dominate on the ice

George: tell me, Y/N, how fucking drenched is your pussy right now?

George: actually, don’t tell me. As soon as im back at the hotel you’re gonna answer my facetime call and show me how wet my pretty pink pussy is

George: because that pussy belongs to me, doesn’t it, baby?

All she’d managed to reply was a simple yes, thankful that George insisted on hiring her a car service. Because had she read those messages while driving Y/N certainly would have crashed the car. 

She’s just barely settled against the pillows when her phone lights up with George’s call, and Y/N doesn’t hesitate before she swipes her thumb across the screen to answer. 

“Hi,” she answers breathlessly, a smile tugging at her lips as George appears. 

“Hi baby,” George greets, eyes dragging across the screen to take in every inch of Y/N he can see. She’s still got his jersey on and it makes his already hard cock twitch in his boxers. Just the mere thought of Y/N in their bed, surrounded by the smell of them combined, wet and waiting for George to call was enough to get him going. 

It’s only been two days, but in George’s mind it might as well have been two months with how much he misses Y/N. For the first time in years hockey isn’t the most important thing in his life, the girl smiling at him through the phone is, and that should scare the shit out of George. 

But it doesn’t. 

Because when his hockey career is over he’ll still have Y/N and the family he wants them to build, and George knows that life will be more fulfilling than a lifetime in the NHL could ever be. George used to fear the day he retires, afraid of how empty his life will be without the sport he loves so much. 

Now he can’t wait for the life that’s waiting for him beyond the NHL.

Y/N watches as George settles into his bed, teeth digging into her bottom lip when she gets a flash of his bare chest. 

“My eyes are up here,” George teases, chuckling when her gaze flicks back to his. “I miss you so fucking much, baby.”

The vulnerability in his voice sends a flutter through her tummy. “I miss you too.”

George’s eyes darken at her sultry tone. “Bet that fucking pussy misses me too, doesn’t it, baby?” He uses the hand not gripping his phone to reach down and grab a hold of his cock when Y/N nods in response. “Show me, baby. Show me how much my pussy misses me.”

Y/N lets out a soft moan and her legs immediately spread, knees pressing to the mattress to bare her cunt to the room. She slowly pans the camera down, letting it follow her left hand as it glides down her torso, heading right for where she craves George’s touch. 

“Fuck,” George groans as her pussy comes into view, his hand slipping beneath the waistband of his boxers. “Coat your fingers, baby,” he instructs, taking himself in his hand. “Show me how wet they are.”

“Oh,” Y/N gasps as her index and middle finger glide through the wetness gathering between her thighs, just barely letting them brush against her clit. Once she’s coated her fingers she pulls them away from her pussy, twisting them in the dim light so George can see them shine.

“You’re a fucking dream, Y/N.” George starts to slowly stroke his cock, mouth dry from how much he aches to taste her. “All of that ‘cause of me, baby?”

“Yes,” Y/N pants as she rubs her slick fingers over her clit. “Always for you, George. Just thinking about you has me dripping down my thighs.”

“What were you thinking about, baby?”

The look on George’s face as he watches her touch herself pulls a whine from Y/N’s lips, and her cunt clenches around nothing. “Your cock, how good it feels inside of me. How, fuck, how you stretch me out and make me take all of you.”

“Cause that pretty little pussy was made to take me, wasn’t it, baby?” George asks, his voice rumbling in his chest. He’s barely touched himself and yet he already feels embarrassingly close. 

“Yes, George, my whole body was made for you.”

George has to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from cumming as he watches Y/N slip a finger into her cunt. Her engagement ring glitters in the low lighting, and it makes him absolutely feral that Y/N is touching herself for him, using the same hand he slid his ring on. Even when he’s hours away part of him is still there, laying claim to his girl. 

“That’s it, baby,” George encourages as Y/N slips another finger into her pussy, her soft moans sending shivers down his spine as he strokes his cock in earnest. “Make yourself cum on your fingers while I watch, baby. Fuck yourself with those dainty little fingers while you pretend it’s my cock.”

It doesn’t take long before Y/N is falling over the edge, her back arching off the bed as George’s name tumbles from her lips. She can barely keep a grip on the phone, but she squeezes hard, wanting George to watch her cum around her fingers. 

“Good fucking girl,” George growls as Y/N brings the camera back up to settle on her face. Her cheeks are flush, breaths coming heavy and the satisfaction of knowing he did that to her without even touching her brings him to the edge. 

The sound of her name falling from George’s mouth as he cums makes Y/N’s clit throb, and if she wasn’t so focused on watching his brows knit together as pleasure overtakes his face she’d probably be bringing herself to another orgasm. 

“George?” Y/N murmurs after a few moments of silence, both of them just smiling softly at the other. 

“Yes baby?”

“Come home soon, please.”

George grins, and he aches to reach out and trace her face. “I’ll always come home to you, Y/N. Always.”

-

Y/N is practically vibrating with excitement. After ten long days of nothing but text messages, phone calls and facetime sex George is finally coming home. She ended up taking the day off, because after barely being able to sit still through her morning meeting Y/N knew there was no chance in hell she’d be getting any work done. 

Because tonight when he gets home, Y/N is finally going to tell George she loves him for real. 

The distance between them has only made her feelings for George grow, and she’s tired of pretending. Even with George on the road he’s made the effort to be there for her, and show her how much he cares, and Y/N is sure this is the right decision.

The sound of her phone ringing practically makes her jump out of her skin, and Y/N answers on the second ring - not even bothering to check who it is. Satan himself could be on the other end and Y/N wouldn’t care less. 

Nothing can bring her down, not today. 

“George?” she answers excitedly. 

“Wrong twin,” Fred chuckles. 

Y/N tries to hide the disappointment in her voice. “Oh, hey Fred.”

“You could at least pretend to be happy it’s me,” he teases. “How’s Chicago?”

“It’s good, weird without George around. How’s everything back home?”

“That’s what I called you to talk about, actually,” Fred starts. “I was just wondering when you planned on coming back?” Y/N fumbles around for an answer, but before she has the chance to find the right words Fred carries on. “I mean I’ve had a great time covering your lessons at the rink, but I’ve kinda been missing my free time, and now that George is Captain and this whole thing can end I was kinda hoping...”

Fred keeps talking but Y/N doesn’t hear any of it. No, she's too focused on those three little words. George is Captain. They seem so small, so insignificant, but it’s as if Fred has just dropped a bomb on her. Her chest feels tight, and it’s like she forgot how to breathe.

“Hang on, back up a second,” she cuts Fred off. “What did you say? George is captain?”

“Yeah?” Fred responds, the confusion he’s feeling clear in his tone. “Morrison is waiting until the first regular season game to announce it, but he told him the other night at that dinner you guys went to.” Fred pauses. “He didn’t tell you.”

No, he didn’t. She has outright asked George what Coach had wanted that night and he looked her in the eyes and lied. 

Again. 

Just like that night in the rink, when she asked what was wrong and he lied to her about needing to focus on hockey. When he took her heart in his hands and smashed it into a million pieces. 

How the fuck has she allowed him to do it again?

“Y/N?” Fred’s voice comes through the phone when she doesn’t say anything. 

“Gotta go,” she responds simply, hanging up the call. 

Y/N was so sure. So fucking sure that George felt the same way as she does. But if he lied to her about being named Captain, the whole fucking reason this charade started in the first place, what else could he be lying to her about?

She’s not sure she’ll survive finding out the answer to that question. 

-

“Honey I’m home!” George calls out when he swings the door open, a frown taking over the smile on his face when he doesn’t find Y/N right there to greet him. He’d broken pretty much every single traffic law in his eagerness to get home to her, so he’s disappointed that she’s not waiting at the door.

“Y/N?” he shouts, shutting the door behind him. 

He can hear shuffling coming from somewhere deeper in the apartment, and when she doesn’t answer George follows it all the way to the bedroom. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest, hoping that there’s some kind of sexy surprise waiting for him when he pushes open their bedroom door. 

Except the sight in front of him stops him in his tracks. Because instead of Y/N laying in their bed naked, waiting for him to ravish her, there’s a suitcase open on the bed and Y/N is darting around the room, talking to herself quietly as she collects her belongings and shoves them inside. 

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on?”

She finally notices his presence, and Y/N stops for a moment, eyes narrowed as she looks at George. “You tell me,” she seethes, before she goes back to shoving things into her bag. 

“Baby, baby hang on,” George pleads, his confusion evident. He comes into the room, stepping between her and the suitcase so she’s forced to stop packing and look at him. “Talk to me, Y/N. Why are you packing?”

“Why don’t you tell me, Captain?” she spits, and George recoils at the mixture of anger and hurt in her voice. 

“Oh. So you know about that, huh?” George stutters out, his mind reeling to find something to say.

This is not how he intended for this conversation to go. He planned on telling Y/N tonight, he was going to come clean about everything. George planned on taking her to his favorite restaurant, and over dessert he was going to tell her that Coach had made him Captain, and that he wanted to offer her a permanent place in both his heart and his home. He was finally going to tell her that he loves her, and that this arrangement has been anything but fake. 

Now with that plan out the window he’s scrambling over how to fix this. He already lost Y/N once, and he sure is shit doesn’t plan on doing it again. 

“Know that you lied to me? Yeah, I do.”

Y/N shoves past George, her hands shaking as she shoves the last few things into her suitcase. She’d hoped to be gone by the time that George would be back, to save herself the embarrassment of having him watch her fall apart once again. 

After she hung up on Fred Y/N wasn’t really sure what to do, all she knew was she had to get out of Chicago as soon as possible. Everything between them had felt so natural and real, and the thought that it was all just a lie George was putting on made her feel sick to her stomach. Even though she still loves George and deep down she knows she should stay and hear what he has to say, she’s not quite sure she’s ready for that. 

So once she wiped away her tears she booked the next flight out of town and started packing up. This is George’s home, after all. The only claim she had to it was the man standing behind her and she’s not even sure she has a claim on him either. 

“Y/N I promise you, I was going to tell you about the Captain thing. I just wanted to-”

Except she cuts him off. “Wanted to what? Get your dick wet a couple of times before you sent me packing?”

George physically recoils at her words. “No, Y/N. Fuck, that’s not it at all.”

“Well that’s what it feels like.” Y/N zips her suitcase shut and yanks it off of the bed before she turns to look at George. The look of pure heartache on his face nearly brings her to her knees, but she has to stand her ground. “I asked you what Coach wanted that night and you looked me dead in my eyes and lied to me George. Just like you did that night at the rink. And then the next night you got me naked in bed knowing that you were lying to me. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

“Baby, please,” George pleads as Y/N grabs the handle of her suitcase and storms out of the room. He follows her down the hallway, desperately trying to hold on to her. “Just stop for a second, Y/N please. I can’t fucking think when you’re upset with me like this. Give me a chance to explain, please. Don’t go, baby. Not like this.”

Y/N stops at the front door, one hand on the handle. But she doesn’t open the door, not quite yet. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself before she turns to look at George. There are tears streaming down his face, and it takes all of her strength to force the words out of her mouth. 

“Good bye, George. For real this time.”

-

George only returns to their bedroom in the wee hours of the morning, the whiskey flowing through his veins making him numb enough to be in the space that still smells of her. When he crawls into bed he lets the tears that have been gathering flow down his cheeks, his hands desperately reaching for the pillow that still smells like her. 

He hugs it tightly to his chest, smothering his cries into the fabric as he takes a deep inhale of Y/N’s familiar scent. He desperately needs to feel her in his arms again, but the softness of her pillow will have to do.

[heroes-among-us-all]

Maybe shigaraki having a crush on a league member and he gets her to sit in his lap while he plays video games?

Cute. You were way too goddamn cute. As much as Shigaraki hated to admit it, he'd turned into a lovestruck fool from the moment he laid eyes on you.

When Dabi had first suggested inviting another member into the League, he'd had his doubts. Shigaraki had since grown comfortable with the allies he'd accrued. He didn't want to expand his circle too much. He had a hard enough time trusting people as it was.

Needless to say, when you turned up to the hideout with that adorable smile of yours, he found it difficult to refuse. Obviously, he didn't trust you right from the start - you had to earn his trust, the way everyone else had. But slowly and surely, you made it clear that you were faithful to the League and proved time and time again that your ambitions and desires aligned with his.

Now that it had gotten to this point, Shigaraki could safely say that he had a massive crush on you.

And quite frankly, he hated it. It was an unfamiliar feeling, the likes of which made his stomach clench up uncomfortably. He was used to being in a perpetually shitty mood, but this was different somehow. Even though his chest got all tight when he stared at you for too long, the sensation wasn't wholly unpleasant.

As a result of being in constant turmoil and struggling to make sense of his own warped feelings, he ended up lashing out at you unintentionally.

"Get out of my way," he would snap on one occasion.

"Why do you keep staring at me? If you've got something to say, just say it," he might also sneer.

Put simply, he found it difficult to interact with you, because you brought out weakness in him. You made him feel shaky and uncertain. Timid and withdrawn.

But in spite of all that, you weren't deterred. You were always constantly smiling during every one of your interactions. If his words hurt you, then you certainly didn't let it show. You kept on treating him with kindness and consideration, which was quite frankly more than he deserved.

Shigaraki wanted to act on his feelings, but given that he had no experience in this department, he didn't know how.

So, he decided to stick with what he was comfortable with and use it to break the ice.

"Come in here," Shigaraki demanded. He was your boss, so technically speaking, you had to listen to most of what he said.

You were completely unfazed to have been summoned to his room. As always, you were smiling. Fucking hell, how was it possible for someone to be that cute?

"I'm here," you beamed. "What's up?"

Shigaraki pointed to the spot beside him. "Sit down. Stay here while I play my game."

"Oh. Is that all?"

"Yes," he frowned. "Is there a problem?"

"Not at all!" you chirped, happily bounding over to his side. Just as he'd insisted, you plopped down right beside him, getting awfully close. Shigaraki couldn't deny the fact that his heart was going crazy right now.

He gripped his controller a bit tighter. "Okay. Just stay there. Watch me beat this level."

His red eyes flickered towards the screen of his TV instead of staring at you. It was better this way. It was better for him to have something to focus on while the two of you interacted, otherwise he would risk making a fool out of himself.

Unfortunately, even his endless video game prowess couldn't quite compensate for how distracting you were. You were sitting so close that your shoulders kept brushing up against his, and apart from the low volume of the TV, the room was almost deathly quiet, allowing him to hear every soft exhale you let out.

Even worse, he started feeling stupidly self-conscious for some reason. He suddenly worried that you might not think he was good enough at the game and judge him for it. These self-deprecating thoughts ate away at him, and he could feel himself playing worse and worse as the minutes dragged on.

Shigaraki swallowed, fingers trembling against the controller. "I can't focus," he admitted. "I don't usually play this bad."

"What are you talking about?" you laughed. "You're a million times better than I could ever hope to be. It would have taken me more than a week to clear that last boss fight."

There it was again. You were comforting him, the way you always did. Normally, he hated feeling like he was being offered superficial pity. After all, people pretending to give a shit was the whole reason this hero society was a sham. But from you, strangely enough, it always felt genuine. He never had to doubt your intentions or read into things too much.

You actually cared about him. That thought alone was enough to overwhelm him with emotion.

Feeling emboldened by your encouraging words, Shigaraki mustered up the nerve to utter his next sentence.

"I think I'd play better if you were sitting on my lap," he mumbled.

Shit. Why'd I go and say that? She'll definitely think I'm creeping on her now.

But it seemed that you just kept on surprising him. That smile of yours that he'd since come to love didn't falter in the slightest. If anything, it just grew even wider.

"Sure thing," you grinned, and without wasting a beat, seated yourself right in his lap.

Now Shigaraki was panicking for a different reason altogether. He hadn't really thought things through this far. You were actually sitting on his lap. He could feel the curve of your ass pressing flush against his lower half, and already, his face was a mess of crimson hues.

You turned towards him. He noticed that your grin had become a bit more coy. "What's wrong?" you teased. "Isn't this what you asked for? Come on. I want to see you play some more."

"Shut up," Shigaraki grimaced, having to bite back the strangled gasp that threatened to leave his lips. He decided to rise to your challenge and keep on playing, not that it even mattered anymore. He'd already won big-time by getting to be this close to you.

Unsurprisingly, his gaming performance deteriorated even further from that point onwards. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, letting out giggles and wiggling your butt under the pretense of 'trying to get more comfortable'. Shigaraki was trying his damn best to keep his excitement from showing, but he imagined he was probably failing terribly.

"Hey, Tomura," you said suddenly. You placed a hand on top of his and slowly moved the controller out of the way. Your eyes sparkled with mischief. "Is playing video games really all you wanted to do? Before you answer, you should know that I can feel how hard you are."

Shigaraki's blush deepened. Right. You were many things, but an idiot wasn't one of them. Not that he'd really been subtle in the first place.

"I guess not," he admitted, awkwardly avoiding your gaze. "So, then... what else would we do?"

"We could make out," you grinned. Your face moved closer to his, and he had to remind himself not to get too excited and accidentally grab hold of you with all five of his fingers.

"I've never done anything like that before," he said, feeling a touch ashamed by the admission.

But he should have known better. He should have known you wouldn't care, not when you'd treated him more warmly than anyone else in his life.

"It's okay," you hummed, shifting your position on his lip so that you were now fully facing him. You let your arms dangle over his shoulders. "I'll teach you," was the last thing you said, pressing your lips against his.

[yanderes-galore]

Micah with a sheriff darling hcs

Thank you other anons for feeding me this idea to request

-🧨

He's going to be so sleazy. Compared to the other Micah requests, this is tame.

Yandere! Micah Bell with Sheriff! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Violence, Murder, Blood, Manipulation, Jealousy, Mature themes, Micah being down bad I guess, Harassment, Kidnapping, Forced "relationship".

Micah, unfortunately, is a man you see around often.

Due to Micah's infamy and your profession... He's definitely around.

Micah's often thrown in jail due to gunfights, bar fights, both....

You want nothing more than to have him hanged.

Micah, on the other hand, has taken a liking to you.

Imagine if you knew of him from his previous gangs?

The man is always broken out of jail and overall problematic to deal with.

You can't tell if you'd be better off hanging him, or just hoping he never comes back to your jail.

But he somehow manages to always come back to your jail.

At first it's due to a gun or barfight, that's when you first meet him.

He's always making some distasteful comment to you.

Yet as the days go on and he sits in his cell... Micah can't stop staring.

You come by to feed him or sit at your desk, going through wanted posters and speaking to bounty hunters.

The entire time Micah won't keep his eyes off you.

Occasionally you speak to him, only because he's there.

You'd much rather be speaking to your deputy, but he's not always around due to patrols.

You may even learn quite quickly that it's best to not give him a cellmate.

One day you came to check on him, only to see him trying to strangle his cellmate.

After that, trust me he lands himself in jail multiple times, you learned to keep him solo.

You have no idea why he did such a thing other than him being a violent outlaw.

Perhaps the guy belonged to some rival gang... which was part of it.

Although the other part of it was Micah heard comments being made about you... and Micah wants your attention only on him.

When Micah's first either bust out or released, you pray you never see him again.

Only for him to show up again later for some other crime.

Micah does a variety of crimes to regain your attention and be beside you in a cell.

Robbery, fights, murder...

By the time the law drags him in, you wish you could kill him yourself.

Micah purposefully does his crimes near your town.

When he's hogtied, he's grinning.

You glare at him, seeing how he's covered in blood and mud each time, only to hear him laugh.

"Hey there, Sweetheart... Miss me?"

You do not.

You often have to tell Micah to be quiet in his cell, he never is.

No, instead the outlaw presses himself against the cell, giving you sultry looks.

You grimace and jump back when he tries to grab you through the bars, desperate to feel some sort of warmth from you.

What's even worse is when he talks, all crude flirtation as he looks you up and down.

You thought he did all this in an attempt to seduce you into letting him go.

But no! Why would he even need that when he's busted out so often?

No, he presents himself to you like a harlot just because he wants to.

Your deputy has come into the jail so often to see you being harassed by Micah, leading to your deputy smacking Micah's cell

God the outlaw hates your deputy.

Micah just makes your job harder, for no one's benefit but himself.

You swear he's trying to make you uncomfortable when he presses against the bars, reaching out to grab you and hold you against them.

"A shame we keep meeting like this, behind cold bars... wouldn't you rather there be no... restrictions?"

It takes every ounce of restraint you have to not press your revolver to his forehead.

You hate nothing more than him... and he loves that.

It gets to the point when he's not in jail, he follows you.

He follows you on patrols, riding his horse a distance away until some passerby comes by on their own horse...

Then he shoots them, just to get your attention.

Aw, too bad, are you gonna hogtie him?

He'll promise to be good.

Only when you do it though, your deputy can go to hell.

Other times he just corners you to have you look at him.

He doesn't care if you attempt to kill him or take him in... He just enjoys your hands on him.

Micah seems like he'd purposely pick fights to have your attention.

Isn't he your favorite outlaw?

In a way you can consider this him being in "love" with you.

That or maybe this is just some game to him and he loves to toy with the hot sheriff in town.

"Come on, Sweetheart. I'm right here for you! Gonna kill me? You know you can't... So why don't you and I get a drink? Then maybe I can go back to that office of yours for... other reasons... yeah?"

Micah is a persistent man... unfortunately.

He is a man who is known for shooting up towns to get what he wants.

He's insane, erratic, violent... and he wants you.

He'll probably not stop until he's killed.

Something he isn't keen on letting happen.

For now, his obsession is kept under control in his cell, eying you up and down like a caged animal.

But soon, perhaps in a patrol with your deputy, Micah will come back.

He's always watching you when not in jail.

If his past says anything...

He thinks it's euphoric when he takes one of his prized revolvers...

and shoots your deputy off his horse.

Your horse immediately rears and bucks you off while your deputy's horse takes off with it, tossing you on the ground.

As you try to clear your head, noticing blood pool from your deputy, Micah steps over him and towers over you.

He's been no doubt waiting for months to do this.

"Seems you've got yourself in a little predicament, sheriff..."

Micah's voice is a mocking coo, blowing the steam off his revolver while he leans down.

You go to stand but he roughly shoves his boot on your chest, holstering his revolver before pulling out a lasso.

You go to pll out your own gun, but he kicks it out of your hand before tying your wrists.

"Been wondering when I'd get to do this... look how the tables turned."

Micah chuckles, kicking your side to roll you over as he hogties you.

You're forced to look at your dead deputy, your horses long gone.

"God... ain't you cute... and all mine...."

You grimace, squirming when Micah picks you up to place you on his horse.

"See how it feels? To be captured and carried off? I can't wait to take you back to camp... Everyone back in town's going to think you're dead."

"You'll hang for this!" You growl, only for Micah to chuckle.

"I haven't been hanged yet, bold of you to assume I will now...." Micah grins, tossing you on his horse.

Micah expects to get an earful from Dutch back at camp.

But he's sure he can convince him you're an asset.

In reality, he could care less.

He's tired of you teasing him in jail for months... Now he can have you all to himself...

No bars to keep him from what he wants.

[starsandgutters]

Hey :)

I'd like to suggest "kidnapping" as a flash fic prompt for Kevaaron 🫶🏻

Hello! 💖 I put a slight slant on this. Instead of outright kidnapping, I've gone for coercion. I hope that is okay! 🥰 54. Kidnapping

CWs: Depictions of violence Blood mention References to Thanksgiving/Drake/Easthaven Drug use/OD mention Reference to bathroom rehab

Wymack has told him to stay close to Neil or Matt all night, to use them as his shields, but it is Aaron that Kevin tries to keep in his line of vision. Aaron who he tracks all night with his eyes, only glancing away when Aaron looks back at him. He’s dared to look back too early a couple of times, caught the disapproving frown on Aaron’s face. Kevin hates watching him with Katelyn, everyone’s assumption they’re together so prevalent, Aaron saying nothing to dissuade it.

It’s Kevin’s fault, of course. Kevin had told him to do this. Had refused to let Aaron spend the banquet by his side even when he’d asked.

“It doesn’t have to be as a date, but if Kate doesn’t come I can focus on you.”

“They’ll be suspicious if Katelyn isn’t with you when Andrew is away.”

“I don’t give a fuck, Kev. Not with how you get around Riko.”

“I do,” Kevin had said, with a tone of finality, and Aaron had grown quiet and sullen and disappeared inside himself for the rest of the night. He’s good at that. He’s been doing it more, since Thanksgiving. Kevin has noticed but doesn’t really know how to help. On nights when he isn’t distracted by his own spiralling anxieties, and when he is feeling a bit softer, he thinks about crossing the room and climbing into Aaron’s bed. Not saying anything, just holding him. Letting him bury his face against Kevin’s chest and hide from the world for a while.

Then Kevin thinks of how Nicky would react if he found them there, and he just lies in his bed, listening to Aaron toss and turn, the occasional stifled noises he buried beneath the blanket. Kevin is never sure if he is crying. Kevin has never seen Aaron cry. It hurts his chest to think about, but that ache is not bigger than fear of the impact if anyone finds out. 

Even Katelyn knowing is a risk Kevin didn’t want to take.

“I’m not using her,” Aaron said. “I’m not going to string her along acting like we’re dating and then fuckin’ two time her.”

“Technically you’d be two timing me with her. Which, if that’s what you have to do-”

“Shut up. God, I hate you sometimes. I don’t even know why we’re doing this.”

But Aaron’s harsh words are always contradicted by his gentle hands, the concern in his eyes, the way he never stops showing small signs of care for Kevin even when he is mad at him. Which is unfortunately most of the time. Kevin’s fear means he keeps Aaron at arms length. He can’t find it in himself to let him go entirely, this unexpected source of comfort he never expected in the Foxes, but he also can’t hold him close the way he wants to. Aaron does not react well to the hot and cold, but for some reason he always stays. Sometimes Kevin wonders why. Mostly he just assumes Aaron is always going to be there. 

Kevin thinks Aaron being the first to leave the table after dinner is his passive aggressive way of making a point. He might be more irritated about that if the threat of Riko were not hanging over him like a guillotine. As it stands, he just watches Aaron go with a small frown. Catches glimpses of him dancing with Katelyn as other people move around the room and tells himself he doesn’t care, because he wouldn’t want to dance even if they could. He sticks close to Neil and sips at punch that tastes bitter in his mouth, warily scanning the crowd like a cornered animal as they wait for Riko to come.

He does, though Neil inserts himself between Riko and Kevin until Jean leads him away. Kevin feels like a numb voyeur, but he has enough presence of mind to stop Matt when he heads for Neil. Anyone else getting involved after Neil’s dig about Riko’s distance from his family will only make things worse. Matt shrugs him off, and Jean tugs at Kevin’s arm, leading him further away. Kevin goes, only because it is Jean, and he does not believe Jean will hurt him. 

“He has asked me to give you this,” Jean says. He looks around warily, then slides an envelope out from inside his suit jacket. He moves to press it to Kevin’s palm, but Kevin draws his hand back.

“What is it?”

“Take it.”

“Tell me what it is.”

“Plane tickets. He wants Nathaniel to come to us over the winter break.”

“No. No fucking way. He’ll kill him.”

“I have been told to give you the tickets,” Jean says, his voice flat but his eyes desperate. If Kevin does not take them, Jean will be punished. He tenses his jaw, but finally allows Jean to put the envelope in his hand. Kevin tucks it into an inside pocket. Jean nods. 

“He can’t go.”

“I have a feeling he will.”

“Will you look after him if he does?”

The look Jean gives Kevin is chilling. He releases his arm and steps away, moving back towards Riko when a loud sound catches both of their attentions. They move towards the raucous, and Kevin sees Neil and Riko crash to the ground, Neil a flurry of limbs as he lashes out at any part of Riko he can reach. 

It takes a chaotic squabble of people to pull Neil away from Riko before the coaches arrive, and then Wymack herds them all towards the Home side of the court. Kevin is paying little attention to Wymack berating Neil. He’s too aware of the envelope in his pocket, feels like it is smouldering away, at risk of burning through his clothes and into his skin at any moment. 

"Riko bought off the prosecution." Neil is speaking slowly, emphasising what he’s saying so they all listen. Kevin’s gaze flicks over to him. "That's why Drake risked coming all the way here to see Andrew. Riko would get the charges dismissed if Drake would-" 

Neil grits his teeth and shakes his head, unable to finish. Kevin understands. He feels sick himself with the thought, but unsurprised. When he thinks of the Nest, this is exactly the kind of thing Riko would do. He looks around, automatically checking for Aaron’s reaction. It’s the first time he realises Aaron isn’t with them. 

“Did you get it? Did you get my ticket? Kevin. Look at me.” Neil is hissing at him in French. Kevin’s head turns slowly towards Neil, but he’s looking through him rather than seeing him. His pulse is racing. Why is Aaron not here? Did he not see what went down with the fighting? Kevin swears he saw Katelyn with Thomas when Wymack waved them off just a moment ago. 

“I’m going to kill him,” Nicky says, and Neil looks away from Kevin to reply. He’s not listening. He looks around again, feeling frantic now. Where is Aaron? He can see Katelyn, down the court a bit, also looking around. Which means she doesn’t know where he is either. 

"Do you have my ticket?" Neil’s words draw Kevin’s attention back again.

"You're not going. Do you know what he'll do to you?"

"Do you know what he'll do to Andrew if I don't go? I don't have a choice. I have to go. You have to trust me."

"He will break you."

"He wishes he knew how. Trust me. I promise I'll come back, and when I do I'll bring Andrew back with me. It's going to be fine. So do you have my ticket or don't you?" 

"I have it." Kevin presses his lips together hard, gaze shifting around the court once more. He shifts back to English. “Where’s Aaron?”

“Oh shit,” Nicky says. Wymack looks disgruntled, eyes narrowing as he does a quick skim of his Foxes. Even among the panic, Kevin feels a flare of anger that none of them seemed to notice Aaron’s absence. 

“Shall we split up and check the hall for him?” Dan asks. “But someone keep Neil and Kevin here, I don’t think it’s a good idea for them to be near Riko again.”

Kevin’s looking back towards Katelyn when she suddenly takes off running, hoisting the skirt of her dress up above her knees to give her more ease of movement, allow her to race faster. Kevin’s eyes move ahead of where she’s going, but he can’t see Aaron past the other teams on the floor. Katelyn disappears from his line of vision, and it’s several moments later before she reappears with Aaron. There is blood on his shirt. His nose is bloody. His mouth might be too, or it could just be the blood trickling down from his nose. Kevin feels sick.

“Not you too.” Wymack sighs heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “Who were you fighting with?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“A surefire way to make me worry about it. You’re all trying to take me out via high blood pressure before the New Year. Speak. What happened?”

“One of the Ravens trying his chances while everyone else was distracted in the fray.” Aaron looks at Abby when she comes over to him. He flinches when she reaches for his face. Abby frowns, but she waits for Aaron to move forward to her hands rather than reach after him again. He says, voice far softer with her: “I’m okay.”

Abby checks his nose anyway, while Katelyn wraps herself around one of his arms. Kevin wants to go over and check on Aaron himself, but his feet remain stubbornly rooted to the floor. Aaron glances over at him, but whatever he sees just makes his frown deepen.

“Let’s go home, Coach,” Dan says, and when Abby is done with Aaron, they all pile back onto the bus.

*

It’s a silent drive home. Kevin sits sullenly beside Neil and spends his journey watching the back of Aaron’s head. Katelyn keeps running her fingers through his hair, both of them sitting unnecessarily close to each other on their seats. They don’t say much, but seem perfectly capable of communicating plenty with looks alone. Eventually Katelyn guides Aaron’s head down to her shoulder, insistently pushing him when he resists until he finally melts against her. She drapes his jacket over him like a blanket and wraps her arms around him, fingers continuing to stroke through his hair until she falls asleep. Kevin doesn’t know if Aaron also sleeps, but he doesn’t move, and Kevin is torn between a bitterness that it is not him comforting Aaron, and a deep gratitude to Katelyn for looking after him in the way Kevin can’t. 

There is a selfishness to his desire to be in her place as well. He also wants the comfort right now, can feel a longing in himself for the solid press of Aaron’s warmth against him. He catches his left hand in his right and rubs his thumb up and down along the length of his scar, but it is not the same as Aaron touching him. Kevin is too keenly aware it is his own skin, even when he closes his eyes and tries to imagine it. 

*

Kevin hands Neil the envelope in the hallway of Fox Tower. Neil takes it without opening it and goes into his dorm. Nicky babbles on about the evening, filling Aaron in on the fight in case he missed it, prompting Aaron for more details on what happened to him. Aaron does not answer, but he does inform Nicky that he’s not going to New York for Christmas. He’s going to spend it with Katelyn.

The room goes dead silent for a long stretch. Kevin looks at Aaron, stunned. It is one thing for him to make a point by going off to dance with Katelyn at the banquet, another entirely to leave Kevin for the whole of the Christmas break to be with her. What, are they lying to Katelyn’s family now too? Going to pretend she’s bringing her boyfriend home for Christmas? Or maybe Aaron took it seriously when Kevin said if that’s what you have do. Perhaps it’s not a lie anymore, and Aaron has feelings for Katelyn, and he’s realising she’s the better choice.

“What?” Finally Nicky shatters the silence, going off on an extended rant about how he cancelled his trip to Germany to be with Aaron. How he doesn’t want to be separated for Christmas. Aaron says little in response, expression grim as Nicky gets noticeably more upset. Kevin feels like an unwilling voyeur as he gets changed in the background, but there’s not many places he can go within the dorm to escape. 

Aaron dips his head, expression the closest thing to guilty Kevin has seen on his carefully guarded face. Nicky pauses in his speech. He’s clearly still devastated, but he takes in Aaron’s curled forward form and he sighs for a long time. He puts his hands to his face and rubs his palms over his eyes.

“This will make you happy?”

“Yes,” Aaron says after a beat. Nicky doesn’t notice the delay. Kevin does. Aaron side glances at him while Nicky sighs. Kevin wonders if this is a test. If he asks Aaron nicely will he maybe come with them after all. He sets his jaw, wondering if he should play into that game.

“Okay then.” Nicky sounds exhausted and defeated. “But keep in touch with me, okay?”

Aaron nods. The atmosphere in the dorm is oppressive as they all change for bed. Kevin is glad when he can lie down and pretend to sleep. Eventually Nicky’s breathing evens out and deepens. Kevin waits to hear Aaron’s go too, though usually it is Kevin who falls asleep first. Aaron’s breath stays quiet, and after Nicky has been out for a while, he swings his legs out of bed.

“Come on.” Aaron stops by Kevin’s bed in the dark. Kevin does not move. “I know you’re awake. I can tell by your breathing.”

Aaron leaves the room. Kevin thinks about ignoring him, but it’s only a moment before he follows. Aaron nods at the bedroom door. Kevin pulls it closed behind him. Aaron leads them to the furthest side of the kitchen, as far away as he can get from the bedroom. Kevin folds his arms over his chest as he follows him. He wonders if this is them finally coming to a head. If Aaron is going to break it off with him.

“Do you have it?” Aaron asks.

“What?” Kevin’s whole face scrunches up in confusion. He had been bracing himself for an argument at best, a break up at worst. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to have.

“The plane ticket. Do you have it?”

“I gave it to Neil.” It’s only after Kevin answers that it occurs to him Aaron shouldn’t know about that ticket.

“Why would you give it to Neil?”

“How do you know about it?”

“What?”

“What?”

“Kevin.” Aaron sighs like Kevin is greatly inconveniencing him. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Why would you give my plane ticket to Neil?”

It takes Kevin a long moment to process that, and it feels like his whole system has to reboot afterwards. Aaron’s absence. The blood on his nose. Don’t worry about it. No. No. It’s one thing for Neil to go. Neil was destined for the Nest, Riko has some twisted sense of claim on him, but he has no ownership over Aaron. And as much as Kevin would prefer no one go to the Nest, Neil probably has the best chance of survival out of all of them. Not Aaron. Aaron is probably disposable to Riko. Probably as easy to get rid of as Seth.

“No,” Kevin says, the word finally ripping free of his throat. Aaron’s eyes jump to the bedroom door, then he glares at Kevin. 

“Shhh.”

You cannot even imagine what is coming next, Riko had said, and he was right. Kevin would never have imagined this. He’s been trying so hard to keep distance between him and Aaron in public. This is why he’s been causing a constant rift between them. His feeble effort to protect Aaron, and what has it been for? Kevin doesn’t know if he’s the cause exactly; or if Riko’s just come for Aaron off the back of targeting Andrew. Maybe he thinks Neil’s fondness extends to both twins, or he knows this will piss off Andrew when he gets released.

Or maybe somehow Kevin is to blame. Perhaps they’ve slipped up somewhere, or he’s got someone spying on them in private. He doesn’t think Riko will kill either of them; at this point it would not serve the Ravens to win simply because the Foxes are disqualified. There will always be the what if haunting them in that case. But there is an awful lot that can be done in the Nest that is not death. Kevin knows. Kevin has seen it.

“You can’t go,” Kevin hisses, crossing the space between them, putting his hands on the counter on either side of Aaron’s hips. “It’s a trap. He’ll kill you. Or destroy you. Aaron, you can’t.”

“I have to,” Aaron says simply. “He threatened Andrew if I don’t.”

Do you know what he’ll do to Andrew if I don’t?

So Riko is hanging the same threat over both of them. There is a small relief in it. Riko doesn’t know. This is not Kevin’s fault. He is not hurting Aaron because of Kevin, but then, in the grand scheme of things, of course it is Kevin’s fault. None of them would be in Riko’s line of attack if he had not left. If he had not come to the Foxes. If he had not made his deal with Andrew and fought to have Neil on his lineup. They wouldn’t even be dealing with the Ravens in their district if Kevin had not come here.

“Aaron.” Kevin’s voice is a broken plea. He knows it is hopeless. There is no force on this Earth that will shift Aaron’s decision beyond Andrew himself walking back into the dorm. Kevin knows this. It does not make it easy to accept. He ducks his head down, pressing his forehead to Aaron’s shoulder. He laughs, but it is a bitter sound. “I thought you were breaking up with me. Kind of wish it were just that now.”

Aaron goes extremely still beneath Kevin. Kevin’s chest catches again.

“Are we even together?”

Kevin tilts his head, looks at Aaron through watery eyes. Aaron looks back, his own expression blank and assessing. Kevin swallows thickly. He watches Aaron’s resolve weaken in real time. As always, he cannot help but care for Kevin even when he is mad. He lifts a hand and gently smooths his thumb along his cheek. Kevin shudders out a breath. Aaron closes his eyes and leans his forehead against Kevin’s. 

“I’ll just have to be your New Year’s Eve kiss in spirit,” he says. “Not that you’d have let me kiss you with everyone around anyway.”

“Aaron.” 

“I assume Neil is going too then. Ballsy of him, taking two of us. Come on.” Aaron pushes Kevin back gently. “Let’s go get my ticket.”

Aaron wraps his knuckles against Neil’s dorm door, no concern of waking Matt. Kevin hopes he’s not back from the girls' dorm yet. It takes a minute before Neil appears, looking bleary and smelling of smoke. Aaron steps in past him before Neil can block him. Kevin follows, his head dipped.

“What?” Neil asks, looking drained.

“You have something of mine,” Aaron says.

“What?”

“The envelope.” Kevin’s voice sounds like it is coming from outside his body. There’s a ringing in his ears. He walks through to the bedroom, and when he finds it empty, sinks down into the desk chair. “He’s taking Aaron too.”

“What? No.” Neil’s voice is more irritated than the devastation of Kevin’s reaction. “What’s he want with you?”

“Does that asshole ever have reasoning?” Aaron shrugs. He doesn’t know that there’s a much bigger reason why Riko is taking Neil. He thinks this is still just about exy. Kevin’s eyes flick to Neil, wondering if he is going to reveal this. It’s not Kevin’s place to say. Neil says nothing. “He said he’ll hurt Andrew if I don’t go, so I’m going.”

“Yeah.”

“You too?” Aaron looks at Neil with an assessing gaze. Neil nods, staring back. “Why? He won’t be grateful.”

“He won’t be grateful to you for killing Drake, or for doing this either. It doesn’t matter. We do what we have to do.”

“He’s my brother.”

“The Foxes are all I have. I don’t care what Andrew thinks. I’m making the only call I can.”

Aaron studies Neil in silence, his expression unconvinced. Kevin looks between them, then drops his gaze to the ground, head in his hands. He’s already lost Andrew. He’s barely been able to grasp the idea of losing Neil. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive losing the three of them. His chest tightens, his breath cutting in and out of him, not enough, lungs aching. 

“Breathe, Kevin,” Aaron says. His voice is sharper than usual, and he doesn’t move to Kevin’s side like he sometimes does. Kevin wishes he would right now. He doesn’t even care that Neil is here. He wants Aaron to reassure him. Andrew is the one that tells him hard facts, like everything is shit, but he will survive regardless. Aaron is the reassurance. He doesn’t lie, but he focuses on what is true. You’re okay. You’re safe in this moment. You can breathe, I know you can. “I know this is hard for you, but I need you to get it together. You have to watch Nicky for me until I get back.” 

“You can’t go,” Kevin says, even though he knows they both will. It’s a pointless waste of the small amount of oxygen he manages to drag in.

“We’re going,” Aaron says, final, then holds out his hand to Neil. “Ticket.”

*

While Neil makes up some lie about going home to see an uncle, Aaron simply says he’s got an early flight and he’s leaving with Katelyn. 

“How are you getting to the airport?” Kevin asks.

“I’ll take the bus. Too suspicious if Neil and I leave at the same time. Kate’s gonna cover for me if anyone messages her.” Aaron finishes double checking his bag and turns back to Kevin. They’re in the living room of their dorm, both of them having been unable to sleep last night. “You’ll be okay. You’ll be in New York. No one outside of us knows you’re going. No one will be able to reach you there, and they’ll be busy with Neil and I anyway, I’m sure. So you’ll be fine until I get back.”

“You won’t.”

“I’ll live.”

“Best case.”

“Kevin.”

“Let me get you a cab.”

“The bus is fine.”

“Aaron. It’s the least I can do. If I could go in your place-”

“You wouldn’t,” Aaron says, and Kevin deflates, because it’s the truth. “And that’s okay. I wouldn’t let you, because you might never get out again, but I will.”

Kevin reaches for Aaron, unsure if he’ll actually be allowed to touch him, but once his hand wraps around Aaron’s forearm all the bravado seeps out of him. He sags forward against Kevin’s chest as Kevin embraces him tightly, pressing his face to Aaron’s hair, breathing in the familiar scent of him.

“Come back to me.”

“I will. I just said that.”

Aaron draws back just enough to look up into Kevin’s eyes. His gaze flicks over his face, assessing, before he pushes up on the balls of his feet and presses their lips together. It is a surprisingly soft kiss for them. Kevin drops his hands to Aaron’s waist to steady him, then leans down so he does not have to arch up so much. Aaron’s arms curl around Kevin’s neck, holding him closer. The pressure between them builds, a sense of desperation, but the kiss does not deepen. Aaron breaks it, pulling away slowly, Kevin following him for just a second. Aaron takes a deep breath. He sighs it out. 

Then he kisses Kevin in a way that makes his inside melt, tongue against his, tongue piercing trailing along the top of his mouth, fingers in his hair. This kiss is far more brief, but Kevin is almost panting when Aaron pulls away. Aaron wipes his damp lips on the back of his hand.

“That’s your New Year’s Eve kiss early.”

*

Kevin’s phone rings on Christmas Day. He excuses himself from the table, insistent he has to take it. Neil’s name is flashing across the screen. It’s the first he has heard from either of them beyond a confirmation text from Aaron that they had landed in West Virginia. Kevin’s been sick with worry, and Nicky’s festive mood has been darkened by Aaron not replying to any of his messages, thinking he’s being ignored in favour of Katelyn. Kevin makes sure to move a fair bit down the hall before he answers.

“Neil?”

“Nathaniel’s a bit preoccupied at the moment,” Riko says, and Kevin freezes, heartbeat thundering in his ears. “I just wanted to let you know about my Christmas gift to him. See, he’s finally got his number. Just like he was always supposed to have. Things in order how they should have been.”

“No,” Kevin says, disbelieving.

“Oh yes, Kevin. Just finished tattooing it. The ink is still fresh.”

Everything in Kevin wants to hang up on him, but he’s afraid if he does Neil will suffer for his arrogance. So he is stuck clutching the phone and breathing shallowly. 

“I will have my Perfect Court, Kevin, as is my birthright. I don’t care how many bumps I have to go through along the way. You will all fall in line for me eventually.”

When Kevin still doesn’t speak, Riko laughs, sharp and cutting, crackling down the line.

“Merry Christmas.” He hangs up without waiting for a response.

*

We landed in WV

He’s here with Jean

We are just heading to the airport for NY

Merry Christmas

You’re meant to be back today

Did you get back?

Happy New Year

Yes

Happy New Year

Are you okay?

Aaron?

I will be

Was asleep

Did he hurt you?

I’m okay Kev

Are you okay?

Of course I’m okay

Really?

As okay as I ever am

Okay

*

“Is Neil okay?” Kevin asks when Wymack answers the phone in lieu of greeting. “He’s not answering my calls.”

“Surprise surprise. Okay is perhaps an overstatement, but he’s alive and functional. Just about.”

Kevin sighs heavily. It doesn’t quite feel like relief. 

“You knew then.”

“Yes.”

“Did you know about Aaron too?”

Kevin’s mouth feels incredibly dry.

“Yes.” The word scratches hoarse and quiet out of his throat.

“You’re going to have to tell the others.”

“They didn’t want me to-”

“Kevin. Listen to me. They are going to be okay, but neither of them are in a good way right now. The others need to be warned what they’re coming back to. Neil’s battered. They’ve dyed his hair, he’s apparently been wearing contacts all this time, and…”

There is a long pause. Wymack does not tend to hesitate. Kevin feels a sick drop in his stomach.

“And what?”

“They’ve tattooed him. A number four.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“Riko called me on Christmas to gloat.”

“A heads up would have been nice,” Wymack says, but he does not sound particularly angry. Just his usual gruff irritation. 

“Aaron too?” Kevin does not really think Riko will have inked Aaron. While Neil’s number was probably intended as a claim of ownership, Riko in general is very picky about who gets one. The Perfect Court is only to be composed of the best of the best, of course. There are countless Ravens fighting for those numbers. Aaron is not really talented enough, does not care enough about exy to really merit one, but Riko has been acting more erratically and taking more risks than Kevin has ever expected from him. He has to check. 

“No. From the little I’ve managed to scrape out of Neil, they had Aaron somewhere else while they were putting him through exy torture camp.”

“So Aaron’s okay?”

“No. They’ve pumped him full of something. Abby’s sent for blood tests, but he’s a mess. She suspects a blend of heavy opioids and maybe something else. The early signs of withdrawals have started but Abby anticipates he’ll get a lot worse over the next week or so. She’s keeping him largely sedated at the moment. Looks like he’s barely eaten in weeks. He’s not as badly battered as Neil, but they’ve definitely beat him as well.”

Kevin puts a hand to his face. His throat convulses. Fuck. Fuck. 

“We’ll try and get back earlier.”

“No point. I doubt he’ll be conscious much in the next few days, and Neil can barely move. I’ve got my hands full trying to get him to rest.”

“You think Nicky is going to want to wait a few days when he hears about Aaron?”

“Then don’t tell him until the day before you come back, but I need you to warn them, Kevin. I got enough of a shock when Neil phoned me to pick them up from the airport. Neil was the one to phone me. That says enough. He barely knew where he was, and Aaron was still off his head. I don’t know how Aaron managed to navigate the pair of them through the airport, or how no one stopped them. I don’t even know how he survived the flight. He spent the whole car ride back shivering and puking in the backseat.”

“Did you take him to the hospital?”

“No. It’ll be too easy to slant this as a stress induced relapse after everything that happened, and if the press can paint him as a junkie, that could have a negative impact on the trial. Abby’s monitoring him. If it gets precarious enough that he needs to go in, she’ll make that call, but at the moment she says she’s got him, and I trust her.”

Kevin sniffs. He’s finding it hard to speak. He nods even though Wymack can’t see him, breathing shaky down the line.

“Are you going to be okay?” Wymack asks, in that way he has that is blunt but somehow still compassionate. Just like Aaron. Fuck.

“Nothing happened to me.” No, nothing happened to Kevin. Everyone else is just suffering in his place. Taking all of Riko’s blows because he can’t reach Kevin. “If I’d just gone back to the Nest-”

“Don’t start that. No one wants that. You’ve seen how Neil has gone out of his way to put himself between you and Riko countless times, and I know Aaron can be a bit closed off, but he wouldn’t want you going back either.”

Kevin wonders if Wymack is just saying that. If he’s trying to be comforting, or Aaron has maybe said something in his high state. Kevin searches himself to see if he cares about that, but the old throb of panic and concern is gone. All he feels is a hollow ache. He’s speaking with his father, who doesn’t know, because Kevin is too afraid to tell him. About the boy who he loves, who doesn’t know, because Kevin is too afraid to tell him. And both of them put in the effort to care for Kevin even without the awareness of either of those facts.

“Look after him,” Kevin says, sounding broken even to himself. Then, uselessly, he adds: “Both of them.”

It’s pointless in multiple ways, because he knows Neil will resist being taken care of, and he knows he already exposed himself. But he’s tired, aching, sick, and he can’t find it in himself to keep pretending. Not right now. Not in this moment.

“I will. I’ll take care of things on my side, and you take care of things on your side. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah,” Kevin says hoarsely.

“Good. Oh, and Happy New Year.”

*

You told me you were okay

Aaron

Was sleeping again

I said I will be

I can’t wait to see you

Really?

Yes

Is that a surprise?

Kinda

You should get more rest

See you soon

Yes

*

“We have something to tell you,” Kevin says. His voice is paper thin. He’s looking at Nicky but not really seeing him. His hands are shaking so badly he has to move his phone to the right one, afraid his left one will give, and even now he feels like he might still drop it. He swallows around the lump in his throat. 

“You alright, man?” Matt asks. Nicky is uncharacteristically quiet as he takes in Kevin’s stance and expression. His smile slowly drops from his face.

“What is it?”

“It’s Aaron,” Kevin says, and he feels his throat convulse, closing tight. He thought he had learned to shut this down. How many years he had spent watching Jean get battered and bruised. How many times he was made to hold him down as Riko tortured him. How many distractions he had to create so the others wouldn’t notice the extent of his injuries, or to pull their attention away from poking at the weaknesses in Jean’s play. Kevin should be more than used to having Riko hurt the person he loves. He shouldn’t even flinch at it by this point.

But he’s been out of the Nest for over a year now, and almost every memory he has of Aaron is separate from Riko. Small blood like Kathy Ferdinand aside. Where Andrew is the constant, steady force that keeps Kevin propped up and moving forward even when all he wants to do is crumble, Aaron is the persistent patience that encourages him to let some of his guards down. To shrug off the weight the Nest left on his shoulders. To try and embrace his new freedoms. He has not needed those defences in the same way, has not been reinforcing them through practice, and so they have weakened. 

He didn’t think he would ever need them for Aaron. Aaron was never supposed to be tied up with Riko, was never supposed to be in the Nest. Bar marking him on the court, Aaron should never have been near Riko at all.

Nicky’s face grows serious at the mention of Aaron’s name. He steps closer to Kevin.

“What’s wrong with Aaron?”

“He wasn’t with Katelyn over the Christmas break. He was at the Nest.”

“What?” Matt and Nicky’s voices ring out in synchronicity. 

“Neil and Aaron both. I’ve-  Coach is on the phone. He can tell you better than I can.” Kevin sets the phone on the table between them as he doesn’t trust himself to keep a grip on it, putting it on speaker. 

“Coach? Is Aaron okay?” Nicky leans over the phone, like that will make Wymack answer faster. Matt leans forward beside him.

“Is Neil?”

Wymack gives them a summarised breakdown of what he told Kevin. He doesn’t mention the tattoo, but he warns them Neil won’t want to be fussed over, and not to ask about his eyes. He gives Nicky the latest update from Abby, the blood tests definitely showing some strong opioids, but also a mix of drugs she’s not entirely sure of. There’s reassurances that they will both be okay despite the fact they’re in rough form now. Kevin folds his arms tight across his chest as the other two babble down the phone, and turns his head away from the panicked concern on their faces. 

He’s glad they’re going back to Palmetto tomorrow. He’s barely slept the entire break, and he knows he won’t be able to settle until he finally sees Aaron and Neil again, until he can prove to himself they’re safe with the physical proof of their presence.

*

Kevin’s cheek is still throbbing from Matt’s punches as they make their way to Abby’s. Neil is driving, Nicky is in the back, and Kevin stares out the windscreen with hollow eyes. Once Nicky heard what happened and immediately contacted Aaron, Aaron made him promise to not get Andrew without him. Kevin isn’t sure if Aaron is really up for being away from campus yet, but Nicky had promised.

“I’ll wait in the car,” Neil says. “Give you space.”

He looks towards Kevin, but Kevin is already out of the car before he realises that Neil is probably expecting Kevin to wait with him. That it is Nicky he is giving space with Aaron to, not Kevin. He could pretend he just wants to stretch his legs, or he could act like he misunderstood and get back in the car. Kevin does neither. He ignores Nicky’s surprised look, and doesn’t even glance back to see what expression is on Neil’s face. He simply strides towards the building.

Kevin thought he was prepared after seeing how bad Neil looks, but his first glimpse of Aaron punches the air out of his chest. Kevin knows Aaron is, objectively, quite short, but he never really looks small. He looks so fucking small in Abby’s guest bed, his pale skin marked with cuts and bruises. Nowhere near the technicolour portrait of Neil’s skin, but bad enough. He’s paler than usual, even his lips drained of colour. His skin is damp with a layer of sweat, his eyes glassy and hollow. Kevin is frozen by the door as he takes him in, but Nicky rushes ahead.

“Oh, Aaron.” He catches Aaron’s face in his hands. It is telling of the state that Aaron is in that he doesn’t even fuss as Nicky puts a hand to his forehead, brushes his hair back, leans down to look in his eyes. “How are you feeling? Don’t say fine. I’ve already told Neil I can’t hear that today.”

“Like shit.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You’d have tried to stop me.”

“Of fucking course I would have. God.” Nicky sniffs, the threat of tears evident in his voice. “Though Kevin told me why you went, so I know I wouldn’t have won that argument. I should have known you wouldn’t just change plans so last minute.”

Kevin finally gets his legs to work. He crosses the room and sinks into the chair beside the bed, across from where Nicky is hovering. Aaron’s eyes flick to him. His pupils are blown wide, dominating his eyes, only a ring of colour visible. A dull brown in the artificial light of the room. No sign of the usual kaleidoscope of colours Kevin knows exist in Aaron’s eyes. Kevin meets his gaze and can’t think of a single thing to say to encapsulate how he’s feeling. He puts his hand on Aaron’s bare forearm, careful not to overlap any of the bruises from needles. Kevin hopes at least some of them are from Abby, that they’re not all from the Nest. There’s a drip running into Aaron’s other arm. 

“Aaron.” His voice comes out hoarser than he expects. Aaron’s eyebrows lift, like he’s surprised Kevin is touching him in front of Nicky. Kevin can feel Nicky watching them, but he doesn’t give a fuck. He can’t. He’s been pushed past the edge of his fear. He’s been thrown into a situation only one step away from his worst case scenario, and Kevin can’t help but think how easily it could have been. One miscalculation, one bad reaction between drugs or from Aaron. People accidentally die from taking one too many paracetamol drinks when they have the cold. It would have been so easy for Riko to have unintentionally caused Aaron to overdose on whatever shit he was injecting him with.

“Hi.” Aaron’s face has been largely vacant since they entered the room, but after a delayed moment, he smiles at Kevin, his head lolling on the pillow towards him. “Look after Nicky for me?”

“Think I scarcely managed to look after myself.”

“Tch.” Aaron clicks his tongue disapprovingly. He moves his arm back until his palm is beneath Kevin’s instead. Kevin grasps Aaron’s hand in both of his.

“Uh. Excuse me? Am I the one who’s high?” 

Kevin glares disapprovingly at Nicky, but Aaron doesn’t look away from him, thumb rubbing over the back of Kevin’s knuckles. It’s selfish. Aaron is the one beaten and drugged in the bed, but here he is, comforting Kevin with his touch. The sheer relief of it enough to have Kevin almost sagging against the bedsheets beside him. 

“You’ll have to tell me about New York.” It’s not that Aaron doesn’t talk to Kevin. He does. Sometimes quite a lot, but it’s always when they’re alone, and his tone is never quite chatty like this. 

“Later. Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“I’m going,” Aaron says firmly. “Abby said I can.”

“I did, but he’ll have to come back here later. We’re still running a fluid drip. He was badly dehydrated when he got back, and he’s having trouble keeping even water down with all the vomiting.” Abby glances at Kevin’s hands around Aaron’s but doesn’t say anything, giving Kevin a small smile. She touches Nicky’s bicep reassuringly as she steps by him, then leans over Aaron. Unlike at the banquet, Aaron doesn’t flinch when Abby reaches for him this time. Either the instinct is blunted, or he’s used to Abby caring for him now.

She checks his pulse, takes his temperature, and removes the IV tube from his arm. She leaves the small plastic bit that it feeds into though. Aaron probably knows the name of it. Kevin will ask him later, because Aaron will enjoy telling him. 

“Am I going to live, doc?” Aaron grins at her. It’s not quite as manic as Andrew’s drugged smile, but it still sends a cold shiver down Kevin’s spine, because it’s not Aaron’s smile. Not any of the ones Kevin recognises, anyway. 

“If I have anything to say about it.” Abby smiles fondly, pinching Aaron’s chin. Nicky’s eyes move between them, eyebrows raised. 

“Is he still high?”

“Nicky,” Kevin hisses.

“It’s a fair question,” Abby says. “Yes. I’ve got him on a lower dose of a similar opioid to the one that showed up in his blood results. It’s helping with the pain of the other injuries, but mostly it’s to wean down the dose and stave off the worst of the withdrawal side effects.”

“Not getting rid of all of them though,” Aaron says. 

“Last dose was just shy of an hour ago, so you shouldn’t be too sick before you get back again. Might take a basin with you just in case.”

Aaron pulls a face, but he starts to push himself up in bed. He has to take his hand from Kevin to do so. Kevin clutches on for a second before realising what Aaron is trying to do and letting go. Nicky moves to help Aaron. 

“I’ve got it,” he says, but Nicky pulls the blanket down anyway. Aaron winces as he gets out of bed, in a way that suggests he’s trying very hard to hide it. “I need to get dressed.”

Abby takes her leave of the room. Nicky takes one step, then looks at the slow way Aaron is moving.

“Do you need help?”

Aaron glares at him.

“I’ll help,” Kevin says, waving Nicky towards the door. “No, seriously, what is happening here?” Nicky looks between them. Kevin meets Aaron’s eye. Nicky is his family, it’s not Kevin’s place. Aaron looks warily back at him. Kevin has always wanted to keep them secret. Aaron does not go against that promise.

“I’ll be out in a moment,” Aaron says.

“You’re just going to ignore me?”

“Go tell Abby about your trip. I bet it’s more pleasant to listen to than mine.”

Nicky’s frown deepens. He lingers, clearly not wanting to leave Aaron, but he’s been reaching out to the twins for long enough to know when his hand is going to get batted away. With one last curious glance towards Kevin, he leaves, clicking the door shut behind him.

“Should I not have said that?” 

“I don’t know. Should you?”

“Nicky is your family. It’s not my place.”

“Not your place to what?”

“Suggest… anything about you.”

“What would you be suggesting, Kevin?”

Kevin looks at Aaron, the space between his brows furrowing. Aaron looks back. He sighs. He starts to take his shirt off. Kevin steps around the bed.

“Here.” He catches the base of Aaron’s shirt and pulls it up slow, jaw tensing as he sees the old bruises littering Aaron’s torso. “You said he didn’t hurt you.”

“No. I said I was okay.” Aaron holds his arms up for Kevin to slide his shirt over them. He’s lost a noticeable amount of weight. “Besides, most of this wasn’t Riko. I think he was too busy with Neil. He sent others. I didn’t recognise them, so I don’t think they were Ravens. He must have got someone with medical knowledge. To get the dosage right. Most of this is from the start. He wanted me to inject myself. I wouldn’t do it. He didn’t like that. When he realised he couldn’t beat me into submission, he started on about Andrew again.”

“Then you did it.”

Aaron looks up at Kevin, his mouth pinched. Kevin can see the confirmation in his eyes.

“Then I guess I was too out of it after a while. Might have injected myself badly, or taken too much, or… I don’t know. They just came and administered it themselves after… I don’t even know. Time is weird in there. Felt longer.”

“It’s the days.”

“What?”

“The Nest runs on sixteen hour days.”

“Shit. I thought time was just moving different, with the drugs.”

“Sorry I didn’t message more. When you didn’t reply, I was worried they had your phone.”

“I think they did. I don’t really know. I remember bits, but I was out of it a lot. I think that helped. That I slept through most of it. Neil had a worse time.”

“Maybe. This is still bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you really going to be okay?” Kevin touches Aaron’s cheek. As soft as he can manage. Aaron leans more heavily into the touch, his lashes fluttering. He looks up through the pale fan of them at Kevin. 

“It’s going to suck, but I trust Abby. It will suck less than the first time.”

“The first time.”

“When Andrew got me clean. Right after our mom died. Locked me in the bathroom for days. Clawed my fingers raw against the door trying to get out. Was convinced I was gonna die in there.”

“Jesus, Aaron.”

“Abby’s doing it carefully. Weaning me off. Keeping me hydrated, monitoring my blood sodium levels. That’ll lower any potential risks of heart failure. Andrew might flip once he finds out she’s giving me drugs though. Don’t let him lash out at Abby, okay?”

“How can I stop him?”

“If you get between them, he’s less likely to hurt you.”

“He won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t know about that,” Aaron says. It’s a bizarre statement. Since he’s been at Palmetto, Kevin has seen Andrew lash out multiple times. He’s been a target, and Nicky is on frequent occasion, but never once has Andrew reached for Aaron. Yet Aaron sounds so unconvinced. 

“I’ll try,” Kevin says, because he knows it’s a lost cause trying to meddle in the twins’ relationship. “You’re shaking. Let’s get some clothes on you.”

“You don't have to- I can dress myself. I just thought this would give us a chance to speak with Nicky out of the room.”

“I want to,” Keivn says, navigating Aaron into his jumper. 

“You’re acting weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting like-” Aaron cuts off, turning his head away.

“Like what?”

“Like you actually like me,” Aaron says after a long moment. 

“Of course I like you.”

“Doesn’t seem like it. A lot of the time.” Aaron looks back to him, brow creased. Kevin frowns at him, both of them unhappy looking.

“Why would we be doing this if I didn’t like you?”

“I don’t know. You like the attention. Like having someone take care of you.”

“Is that what you really think?” When Aaron shrugs, Kevin sighs.

“Can you blame me? You act like you don’t even want to know me half times, now you’re all over me. I’m getting whiplash.”

“I was so scared I was going to lose you,” Kevin admits, looking at Aaron’s chest so he doesn’t have to meet his eyes. “I thought if anyone knew, Riko would target you. I thought it was for the best. Then he got you anyway, and all I could think for the last few weeks is what if you don’t come back? What if you’re gone, and we didn’t even part on good terms? You die resenting me and I don’t even get to say goodbye?”

“I don’t resent you, Kevin.”

“You thought I didn’t even care about you. Why do you do this if you think that?”

“Because I care about you,” Aaron says simply. “Thought that much was obvious. I tried not to, and it didn’t work. I can’t turn it off. So I’m stuck settling for whatever you give me.”

“You shouldn’t have to settle.”

“You were never willing to give more. I couldn’t push you.”

“I can’t pretend anymore. I couldn’t even wait in the car. I had to see you.” 

Aaron’s face twitches. The briefest hint of a smile. He puts his hands on Kevin’s shoulders. Kevin crouches down immediately so Aaron’s arms can go around his neck, hugging him to his chest. He’s gentle with his grip, not wanting to aggravate any of Aaron’s injuries. Aaron has no qualms in response, tightening his arms around Kevin, clutching to him. His cheek is clammy where it presses against Kevin’s. His body is shaking against him. His hair smells sickly; sweaty, but not how Aaron’s sweat usually smells. Something acrid and bitter to it. 

“We should go. I don’t want Andrew to be waiting.”

Kevin helps Aaron finish changing, making a mental note of any other marks on his skin. When they’re done, Abby wraps a blanket around Aaron’s shoulders and gives Nicky a basin to take with them. She hands Kevin a bottle of water, tells him to try and get Aaron to keep taking sips. Nicky sits in the back with Aaron. Kevin wants to stay near him, but he gets in the front. At the hospital, he sits beside Neil when Aaron collapses into a single chair, awkwardly trying to extend some comfort to him. He’s already been honest with Aaron today. Listening to Neil talk about Riko should be easy in comparison. Neil thanks him by throwing the knowledge that Wymack is his father back at him, which is very in character for Neil. Kevin’s spared any further discussion about it by Andrew’s appearance. 

Andrew’s cool glance drifts across them all, but Kevin notices as it lands on Aaron his eyes widened fractionally, and his look lingers for several seconds longer than anyone else. He says nothing. Kevin’s stomach clenches painfully. I don’t know about that, Aaron had said. Is it because he knows what Andrew off his meds completely is like? Did he know Andrew wouldn’t spare him a second glance?

Aaron is the first to move, heaving himself painfully out of the chair. He had wanted to come. Even as sick as he is. He had wanted to be here for Andrew, and Andrew doesn’t so much as say hello. Kevin steps up beside him when they get to the car. Andrew’s gaze dips over him in a bored inspection. 

“You’re not even going to check if Aaron’s-” 

Andrew flicks his fingers in dismissal, and Kevin, always the obedient fucking dog regardless the master, can only nod and go get in the car. Aaron reaches forward from the seat behind his and gives the back of his neck a firm squeeze. His hands are always cold, but they’re freezing today. Kevin reaches up and catches Aaron’s hand before he withdraws it fully, rubbing his fingertips between his own until they warm up some. Aaron tugs his hand away when Andrew gets in the car. 

They’re sent up to the dorm when they return, Andrew keeping Nicky behind. Aaron survived the car ride, but he’s starting to get nauseated again. He immediately collapses on the couch when they get in, making a soft, sick moaning sound. Kevin moves him so his head is resting on Kevin’s thigh and tries to encourage him to drink from the water bottle, holding it up to his lips so Aaron can take small sips. Aaron pushes it away. Kevin has tugged Nicky’s throw blanket from the back of the couch down over Aaron and is carding his fingers through his hair when the dorm door bursts open. 

“I did not believe you to be stupid,” Andrew says. Aaron doesn’t stir in response. Kevin starts to open his mouth, but Andrew holds up a warning finger. “Not you.”

“Oh, are you actually talking to me for once?”

“You went to Evermore.”

“Yeah. I’d have told you as much if you had asked.” Aaron starts to sit up. Andrew’s eyes flick between him and Kevin, but he seems to prioritise this over questioning their closeness.

“Go and get Neil,” he says to Kevin. Kevin looks warily at Aaron. Aaron gives a small nod, so he leaves him. He can hear Andrew’s voice as he leaves the dorm, Aaron’s raising in response, but their words are lost when the door closes behind him. Nicky’s already at Neil’s door, so Kevin takes that to mean he was just being dismissed. This is confirmed when he tries to follow Neil into the dorm again only for Andrew to close the door in his face.

“Well,” Nicky says. “We may go elsewhere for a while.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Kevin leans against the wall across from the door, taking his phone out. “Aaron needs to go back to Abby’s soon. I’ll see if she can come pick him up. Andrew doesn’t seem in the mood to offer lifts.”

“You’re very concerned about Aaron.” It is an obvious prompt coming from Nicky, but he’s left disappointed, because Kevin says nothing in response. Eventually Nicky sighed. “Let me know when he’s back at Abby’s. I’ll check in on him tonight.”

*

Neil eventually come out of the dorm, Andrew behind him. Kevin has slid down to sit on the floor, his head resting back against the wall. He moves to stand. Andrew settles him with an unrecognisably cold glare. Kevin has never been subject to a look like that from Andrew.

“You let him go.” 

Kevin’s gaze slides to Neil even though he knows that isn’t who Andrew is talking about. Perhaps he just wants someone else to defend him if Andrew is abandoning the position. Before Kevin can answer, Aaron comes rushing out the door. His hair is sticking to his clammy forehead and he’s gone extremely pale, but he plants himself between Kevin and Andrew. 

“Kevin didn’t let me do anything. You may act liks his keeper, but he’s not mine. He has no control over what I do.”

Andrew’s eyes narrow, flicking between the pair of them. Aaron squared his shoulders as if he does not currently look like a strong breeze could take him out. Andrew huffs, inclining his head for Neil to keep on walking. He holds Kevin’s gaze for several long seconds as he walks down the hall, before eventually turning away. Aaron sags back against Kevin once they’re out of sight. 

“I’m calling Abby.”

“Mm.”

*

Aaron was right. Andrew does not take well to the news Abby is still dosing him with drugs. She is firm with her explanation why, and when she explains the risk of fatal complications from going cold turkey, Andrew goes still. He does not argue further after that.

Kevin thought he might put him out of Aaron’s room, but he doesn’t. Abby has told him he can stay or visit as much as he likes.

“But no drinking, Kevin. I’m already putting one of my Foxes through rehab. I don’t need to deal with another. If you want to come see him, you do it sober.”

Kevin agrees, even though he desperately wants a drink. He wants to go burn himself out on the court too, but he wants to see Aaron more. 

“I’m just sleeping most of the time. You don’t have to stay.”

But Kevin does. He sleeps with his head resting on folded arms at the side of Aaron’s bed. Sometimes he wakes up with Aaron’s fingers pushed through his hair. He rubs Aaron’s back when he throws up, helps him wash up and change when the cold sweats soak through his clothes, feeds him soup when the shakes in his hands make it difficult to hold the spoon. It is evident Aaron does not take easily to be fussed over, but he accepts it as an inevitability of his care plan, and only pushes back against Kevin minimally. 

“What do you call this?” Kevin touches a finger to Aaron’s arm near where his IV is running into the skin.

“IV.”

“No. This bit specifically.”

“Cannula.” Aaron doesn’t quite smile, but his eyes crease slightly. 

Kevin uses Nicky or Andrew’s visits to go and clean up himself, though he’s got a bag with his own spare clothes at Abby’s now for when he wants to stay, and she grants him free access to her bathroom. He stays through Katelyn’s visits, pettily territorial as if she has not been helping cover for them at Kevin’s request all year. He doesn’t get in the way, sitting back to let them catch up, and he replies as pleasantly as he can manage when Katelyn includes him in the conversation. 

Slowly Aaron starts to look better bit by bit, his injuries clearing up. Though his withdrawals get worse as Abby lowers his drug dose. Kevin lays behind him on the bed as his body trembles, curled around him, trying to press his own warmth into Aaron.

“I hate you seeing me like this.”

“You’ve seen me in worse states,” Kevin says. Aaron sniffs. Kevin presses a kiss to the back of his head. “Through sickness and health. Or whatever.”

“We’re not married,” Aaron says, but he still laughs, which is all Kevin really wanted, his fingers tangling with Kevin’s where his hands are wrapped around Aaron’s, warming them. Aaron laughs, and they’re okay, and he’s going be okay. He’s going be okay and Kevin is never, ever going to let anyone take Aaron from him again. 

[whump-tr0pes]

Honor Bound 6 - 29

This is a series. Start here, continued from here.

This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.

AO3

Masterlist

Contents: themes of someone else's self-harm, past attempted murder

~

Vera had to admit that between Gavin recovering from his captivity in Crayton, Edrissa’s attempt on his life, and the rest of the family’s anxious wind down from the hell that had been the past month, she hadn’t felt like she’d been getting any rest at all. And that wasn’t even mentioning the utter ass she had made of herself last night when she had seen Isaac’s scars and gaped like a dickhead – even grabbing his arm and pulling up his sleeve, baring the new cuts for everyone in the room to see. It didn’t take a fucking genius to know that Isaac didn’t want her to do that. She couldn’t even be mad at him for hiding the cuts all this time, because she had proven his fears right by reacting in the exact way he feared she would: like a fucking dickhead.

Still, she had known. In the back of her mind, in some small, frightened, cowardly corner of her heart, she had known all along. She hated herself for letting him suffer in silence and having the goddamn stones to tell him to his face what she suspected, and that she was here for him, and that she was sorry he was hurting so badly. He was her best friend in the entire world, and she had let him suffer in silence for an entire month, maybe longer, thinking he was completely alone.

There was nothing to do about that now, though. And she still hadn’t given enough thought to what she was going to do about the fact that Edrissa had tried to kill Gavin a few days ago.

“Fuck,” she spat, eyes fixed on the ground in front of her as it disappeared under each footstep.

Gray made a soft, inquisitive sound. “If I ask what’s going on, will that make it better, or worse?” They chuckled and cast a gentle smile at her.

She heaved a sigh and shook her head. “Neither,” she huffed. “It’s just…” She tossed her head and forced herself to look around at the surrounding forest, at the blaze of gold and orange leaves among the dusty green pine trees as she and Gray made their way into town. At least the trees gave her something else to think about. “…I sort of thought things would get easier once we got here. But things have felt like kind of a shitshow since we arrived.”

Gray nodded sagely. “Except for Gavin being missing and possibly dead,” they said in the wryest imaginable tone.

Vera snorted. “Yeah, that’s true. Except for that. Unfortunately for Edrissa.”

Gray winced. “Yes… that came as a surprise to all of us, I think.”

“What, her trying to kill Gavin? Or her still wanting him dead at all?”

“Both,” Gray said. “I have to admit, both of those were a surprise to me.”

“We don’t have to talk about Edrissa,” Vera grumbled.

Gray was quiet for a long moment. The leaves crunching under both their feet seemed impossibly loud in the silence. Then they said, “We will have to talk about it eventually. And… I feel that talking about it to you will be more… constructive than talking to Isaac.”

Vera let out a snort. “Yeah, I’ll give you that.”

When she didn’t continue, Gray lifted an eyebrow at her. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she huffed. “Yeah. It’s… a problem.”

“I’m assuming she hasn’t mentioned anything about trying to murder Gavin again to you,” Gray said delicately.

“Like she would if she was planning on it,” Vera grumbled back. Louder, she said, “No. Nothing. But, she’s been less… jumpy. And she’s met with Sam, which is good I think.”

“They’ve always been a bit of a stabilizing presence for her,” Gray said with a smile. “Although, I’m glad they’re staying with us and she’s staying with you.”

“Yeah,” Vera responded. As they left the forest behind, gravel crunching under her boots instead of leaves, the vague echo of voices replacing the velvety whoosh of wind through the trees, she found her voice lowering in volume. Her eyes darted between the buildings of the tiny main street of Laporte. Even though she had been in town a few times at this point, it still felt so foreign to think of this place as her new home. A few people looked up as the two of them approached. They smiled and waved. Awkwardly, Vera waved back.

“Howdy, Gray!” one of the townsfolk said.

Vera’s throat tightened. As much as she disliked the idea of people knowing who they were, she knew Isaac must hate it.

Her thoughts went to Gavin. He must know what it’s like to have everyone around you know exactly who you are.

Fuck, it’s gonna be rough, learning to live here.

“Hey there, Sabine,” Gray said back, warmly.

Vera glanced up at them, at the relaxed line of their shoulders, the easy curve of their smile. She wondered how much of that was a veneer meant to calm, to exude comfort and alleviate threat. She had never known Gray to not be good with people, never known them to not be the kind, beating heart of their family. They were the family, for as long as it had existed. It had started with Gray. It had always been Gray.

How many lives have they saved, just by being calm, being kind?

Are they saving our lives now?

Vera tossed her hair over her shoulder and followed them closely as they headed for the post office. That was the whole point of this walk, anyway; that, and the two of them discussing Edrissa and whether or not she was going to try and murder Gavin right under their noses again.

Fuck, running from death was so fucking exhausting. She was so, so ready to be done.

Gray led her to the post office building and pushed the door open. She followed them in and looked around. The building was large, far larger than the post office needed to be. While the building seemed to be some sort of gathering space with a few empty tables and chairs pushed against the walls, the post office took up only a small corner. There was no desk, no attendant, just a few shelves mounted on one wall in the corner, with bins on each shelf that had writing on them in black marker. Vera’s lips trembled as she read the names on some of the bins.

Kiernan Byrne

Barnes family

Rosa Garcia

Meredith Hughes

Vera Novak

Tori Nasser

Gavin Uriah

Kali Sind—

“Kali!”

Vera jumped, but there was a smile in Gray’s voice as he greeted the woman who entered the post office. She barely came up to Gray’s chest, but she reached up and squeezed their shoulder when she reached them. There was a hard, weathered look to her, from the crow’s feet on her suntanned face to the worn flannel tied around her waist, but there was an unfailing kindness in her eyes that had Vera’s shoulders relaxing immediately. She recognized in this unfamiliar woman the same familiar warmth that Gray shared wherever they went.

“Good to see you, Gray,” Kali said, and there was an unmistakable twang in her accent.

“This is Vera,” Gray said, gesturing at Vera. Kali wiped her hands on her jeans and shook Vera’s hand once. The grip was firm, but Vera felt in the woman’s rough grasp that her fingers could probably crush Vera’s hand with barely any effort.

Kali released Vera’s hand, giving her a smile. “Good to meet you,” she said, no-nonsense like she was stating a simple fact. “I’ve been meeting your family over the past week and I’ve gotten about half of them.” She chuckled and barked out a laugh. “We usually don’t have this many arrive at once. It feels like you’ve about doubled the size of the town!”

Vera blinked. “No way. You have… You have to have a lot more than—”

“I know, I know,” Kali said, laughing to herself. “But ten at once… lord, it does feel good to have so many new people to meet.”

Vera shuffled her feet and glanced between Gray and Kali. “Well that’s… good,” she said lamely.

Kali seemed totally unbothered by Vera’s lack of ability to come up with anything better to say. Without missing a beat, but without Vera feeling the slightest bit like she was the reason why the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, Kali turned to Gray and said, “I was hoping to run into you.”

Vera’s mouth went dry. She glanced at Gray and spotted, for a fraction of a second, a confirmation of what she feared: tightness in Gray’s mouth, the slightest delay in their next breath. “Oh?” they said.

“Oh, relax, nothin’ bad,” Kali said gently. And suddenly – amazingly – Vera believed her. “Was just wondering if you had any outgoing mail and wanted to remind you that we don’t exactly have, ah, mail service.” Again she let out that loud laugh, and Vera found herself smiling, too. “I don’t think I ever actually told y’all that if you want to send something out, you just drop it in the bin here and it gets sent out every two weeks with the same guy who brings the mail in.” Kali gestured to another basket nearer to the door, one that was labeled: outgoing mail.

Gray smiled and nodded. “I didn’t know that, thank you. Actually, I—”

The door to the post office opened, and someone Vera didn’t recognize walked in. Still, from Gray’s reaction – the flare of nostrils, the sharp intake of breath, the clench of one hand into a fist – Vera suddenly wished she had a weapon on her for this walk into town.

This woman – whoever she was – had dark hair pulled back into a braid, and dark eyes that belied a steely, merciless coldness that made Vera’s stomach churn. She was older than Vera, probably closer to Gray’s age, but she strode into the building with the muscular tension of a cat stalking its prey. Her mouth was creased in an expression of permanent contempt. And for some brief, inexplicable reason, Vera longed to slap that smirk right off her face.

“Afternoon,” Gray said, and fully turned their back on her.

Vera blinked, baffled.

The woman snorted and sauntered aimlessly into the post office, not seeming to look at anything.

“You need something?” Kali said, the warmth in her voice not faltering.

“Oh, yeah, Kali, but it can wait,” the woman said. “You seem like you’re in the middle of something.”

The condescension in the woman’s tone made Vera’s teeth itch. She cracked her neck and threw a glance at Gray. They were studiously looking at the floor, out the window, at their cuticles, anywhere but at the woman who seemed utterly committed to wandering the corner of the building dedicated to the post office. The rest of the building stood open, unused, but she didn’t seem interested in that. She stalked around the three of them like she was… doing it on purpose.

“Well,” Gray said through thin lips. “Thank you so much for your time, Kali. We won’t keep you. Thank you so much for filling us in. I’m sure we’ll see you around.”

Kali’s mouth turned down at one corner. “I understand, Gray,” she said, gently, as if something was passing between them that Vera did not understand. She reached out and squeezed their forearm. They laid their large, delicately fingered hand over her tiny one, and turned to go.

“Sorry,” Vera spat, her gaze flicking among the three of them in turn. “But what the fuck is going on?”

The woman snorted and rolled her eyes. She made her way over to the wall of mail bins and reached into one, pawing around in it before her hand emerged again, empty. “Aw,” she pouted.

Vera blinked. The woman had reached into the bin with Rosa Garcia written on the side in big, black letters.

“Wait,” Vera breathed.

The woman turned, clearly trying – and failing – to hide an impish grin. “There it is,” she sighed.

Vera shook her head and blinked again, shook her head again. “Sorry, I… wait. No.”

“Vera,” Gray said, “This is, ah. This is Rosa. The… the Rosa. And, before you ask, and I have asked…” Gray ground their teeth and threw a look of pure hate at the woman who stood at her mail basket wearing a childish, self-satisfied grin. “…we are not allowed to kill her.”

Continued here

@womping-grounds ​, @free-2bmee ​, @quirkykayleetam ​, @walkingchemicalfire ​, @inpainandsuffering ​, @redwingedwhump ​, @burtlederp ​, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog ​ , @whatwhumpcomments ​, @whumpywhumper ​, @stxck-fxck ​, @whumps-the-word ​, @justplainwhump ​, @finder-of-rings ​, @inky-whump ​, @orchidscript ​, @inkyinsanity ​, @this-mightaswell-happen ​, @newandfiguringitout ​, @whumpkitty ​, @pretty-face-breaker ​, @pebbledriscoll ​, @im-just-here-for-the-whump ​, @endless-whump ​, @grizzlie70 ​, @oops-its-whump ​, @kixngiggles​, @1phoenixfeather ​ , @butwhatifyouwrite ​, @carnagecardinal , @whumpifi , @squishablesunbeam

[spoxkydesires]

Hotheaded

₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ₊˚🖇️✩

₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ₊˚🖇️✩

Paring: Mean Eren x Y/N

Warnings: NSFW CONTENT, Rough sex, No protection, P in V, Fingering, male receiving, Name calling (Whore, Slut, etc). 18+

₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ₊˚🖇️✩

Annoying. Obnoxious. Infuriating. This is everything that Eren Yeager is. Who goes to college just to annoy everyone around. He does and that gets under every fiber of my being. Today was even worse because today I was his target of amusement. Unfortunately his seat in our Fine Arts class is right in front of me. Our professor gave us individual projects to work on for the rest of the class which was an awful idea because it gave Eren an awful idea to think he can speak to me. “Why are you so quiet all the time Miss Priss”? Eren pokes my hand with a pen while he lets the question fall from his lips. “And why are you so annoying Mister Fucktard”. I snap back while moving my hand from his reach. “You know if you weren’t such a bitch all the time we could be friends, maybe even take you out on a date”. Eren toyed with his lip while giving me a shit eating grin. “ Sorry but my Mom taught me not to waste my time on the small things”. I smiled back with a mocking look. “Sweetheart if you wanted to know if i was small or not just ask your friend Historia she knows all about it”. I winched at the idea of him being with Historia because of how heart broke and used she felt after Eren left her. “Fuck you, you’re the most worthless shithead I’ve ever had to lay my eyes on”. I spit out back at him a little louder than I should have, pulling eyes to look at us. “Okay you two take it outside of my classroom now, you can return tomorrow with better attitudes or you can find a different class to replace this one”. Professor Levi snapped at both of us with an annoyed look. I huffed angrily and grabbed my stuff and left the classroom. I could feel Eren walking behind and every time I heard his sneakers hit the floor the more pissed off I became. I turned around to face him while anger was very visible by my demeanor. “Why do you insist on making my whole class period miserable. You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever had to be acquainted with”. I push Eren up against the lockers by poking him in the chest while I spoke. “God you’re so fucking annoying. I’ve never met a girl so smart that is so fucking dumb”. Eren grabbed me my by wrists flipping us around while pinning them to the lockers. I became flustered immediately especially because my black pleated skirt began to rise up uncomfortably. “Look at you. You act all bad ass and mean but look at this cute little skirt you wear, the cute knee high socks. It’s pathetic for you to think you’re this scary thing”. Eren looked down at me while still holding me in place by my wrists. “I can’t fucking stand you. Let me go or I swear I’ll scream”. I snap at him while trying to get loose. As soon as the words left my lips Eren throws me over his shoulder and begins to walk off with me. “Where are you taking me? Put me down right now”. I squirm even more while hitting his back with my fists. “If I put you down I’m dropping you, it’s your choice”. I huff and give up letting him take me to wherever it is. After a couple minutes of being toted around by him he places me down in front of my dorm room. “Seriously? I hope you know I’m not letting you in”. I roll my eyes at him at the idea of him thinking he can come inside. “Oh come on I’ve been in there plenty of times when I dated Historia. Just stop whining”. I’m so annoyed with arguing with him that I unlock the dorm and shove him in. “God I can’t stand you”. I snap at him but soon after my sentence Eren has corned me against the wall of my dorm. “Stop pretending you hate me. I watched the way you use to drool every time I was handing around you when I was with Historia. I could see how badly you wanted me. How much of a slut you are to want to fuck your best friends boyfriend”. Eren’s breath hit my lips due to how close he was to my face. “As if I could never stand to be around you”. I lied through my teeth while shivering against his touch. “Just shut your fucking mouth and get on your knees”. I looked at Eren in disbelief that he would even say something like that to me. Eren sighed with annoyance and pushed me down to my knees.

I listened. I LISTENED. What the hell am I thinking. This is Eren it can’t possibly end well but god the way he’s looking down at me is driving me absolutely crazy. “Now you’re gonna put that hotheaded mouth to some good use aren’t you pretty girl”? Eren mocked me as he started to take off his black baggy jeans and pull them down slightly with his boxers to let his cock free. All I did was nod and watch as his length was now currently facing my lips. He was big. Dangerously big and I was excited. My mind was no longer mine it was his. He was in control now and I could do nothing to stop it. “Good girl”. Eren tapped his cock against my lips and I finally began to open my mouth to let the tip rest against my tongue. I licked all around the head and lightly sucking while slowly sliding more of him In. I felt Eren pull my hair into a ponytail with his hand and used it as a way to use my mouth. I opened my mouth wider for him and moaned around his cock. I was enjoying this. This is the most humiliating thing possible and my pussy was absolutely drenched by it. “Such a pretentious little whore. Acting like you’re big and tough but you’re only just a good toy for me to use aren’t you”. I looked up at Eren with teary eyes and nodded my head with his cock still in my mouth. I used one hand to jerk off the bottom of his cock In a twisting motion while my mouth sucked and licked the top. Eren groaned as I did this still pulling on my hair in his hand. “Such a good little cock slut, gonna let my fill your mouth up like a good little girl”. I could feel my panties becoming embarrassingly drenched. Eren shoved my head all the way down his cock, letting his cock slip down my throat as his dick twitched and I felt spurts of hot cum go down my throat. All of this was making me so high, at this moment I was his to take control of and use however he wants. Eren pulls me up to my feet and tosses me back onto my bed. Quickly he gets on top of me and immediately connects his mouth to my neck, licking and biting. I moan as he continues kissing and biting up my neck until he’s hovering over my lips. “Please kiss me”. I begged as I stared up at his lips. He soon smashed his lips to mine roughly. I was sloppy, uncoordinated and I loved it. His tongue was exploring every inch of my mouth as he began to move his hand to push my skirt up. Moving his hand slowly until they were under my pink panties. He quickly found my swollen clit and slowly traced circles around it. I moaned into his mouth while moving closer into his touch. “So fucking wet for me. Now be a good girl and bend over for me on both knees”. I followed his command and turned so my butt was facing him and bent over with my chest on the bed. I squealed as I felt Eren smack my ass hard and bite into my cheek. By now I could feel and hear my wetness every time I moved. “After this you’re mine, this is me claiming you. You will be no one else’s but mine understand”. I shivered as he spoke. “Y-Yes I’m yours all yours”. I couldn’t believe the words that were spewing out of my mouth. “Now be a good girl for me and take this cock inside that pretty pink pussy”. I gasped as I felt him rub the tip against the slit of my pussy and I was immediately pushing my ass back to feel more of him. Not even a second later, Eren pushed every inch of him inside of me hard. I practically screamed at the sensation of being full of him. “Such a tight little pussy, I just knew you would be so tight”. He started to move his hips back and forth railing into my heat. He reached for my hair and wrapped it around his hand so he can pull me into his thrusts. “E-Eren you’re too big, I can’t handle it”. I could feel tears pouring down my face but I couldn’t lie, I was on cloud 9. “Take it, I know you can pretty girl”. He pounded hard but slow and it was too much for me to handle. I could feel the knot forming in my belly and I knew I couldn’t last much longer. “I’m g-gonna cum Eren, p-please let me cum”. My eyes were rolled into the back of me head and I was on the brink of passing out.

“Cum on my cock you fucking slut. I wanna feel that little pussy clench around my cock”. Eren wrapped his hand around my throat lightly chocking me while pulling me back into his cock. I felt the knot burst as my pussy clenched around his length, trying to milk him. I felt him twitch inside of me and felt a hot liquid enter my heat. He slowly pulled out of me and I collapsed onto my stomach. I heard the sound of a pants being pulled up and a zipper. Of course he’s going to leave. I don’t know why I expected him to even stay. I heard him slowly walk away and come back shortly after. “Here princess come clean yourself up”. I say up and looked at him with a baffled look. “Don’t look at me like that. I meant what I said you’re mine now”. I couldn’t help the smile that crept on to my lips. “That must mean you’re mine too right”?

“Of course only yours but you’re still a bitch”.

“Yeah and you’re still an asshole”.

₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ₊

I just wanted to say Thank you so much for reading! This is my first post on this blog so I hope you enjoyed!!

[erxxi3]

Can you do Leon comforting Reader bcs of a Bad haicut? (Sry english isnt my first language, and my Hair looks so shit rn its making me cry)

uhmm… Yes I will because I feel so fucking bad for you and I hope you recover from your shitty haircut? 💋💋

This fic is really short, but I tried to do you some justice and leon fixes up your hair for you <3

I finished this so fic fast like holy shit-

This day was absolutely horrible.

The hairstylist fucked your hair up and your forced to go home to your boyfriend looking like shit without a way to fix it, but surely it isn’t that bad right?

I mean…it really was BAD. everybody stared at you and laughed and whispered and pointed, some people even started to pity you. The worst part about this whole mess is the fact you didn't know why they were doing that in the first place.

It just wasn't normal for them to be so mean towards you. You knew how to handle people being mean to you but this was something else entirely. You weren't used to these types of things.

You walked down the streets with your head down staring at your feet, trying to hide from everybody's eyes. You tried hard not to let their stares bother you too much, because they weren't your fault. You could do nothing wrong. You'd been here before so many times, after all, it probably wasn't as bad now that you thought back on it. Right?

But, oh god, did it suck. Every time someone looked at you they laughed and snickered. And, oh god…when you thought this could get worse you run into your boyfriend on the way back down the street to your house as he is getting the mail. He doesn't see you and doesn't notice you.

Your eyes go wide as you try to get away from him without drawing attention to yourself but unfortunately, you're walking too fast and he catches up with you quickly.

His arms are crossed over his chest. His expression is unreadable as usual. You look at him nervously for a second before you can feel a hand land on your arm. "Y/N," Leon says softly. You wince internally.

"We need to talk." That's when he notices your hair. "What happened to your hair?" His voice sounds kind of angry and hurt.

Oh my God…he's going to hate me or dislike it right?.

He always does. You swallow thickly as you glance to the side nervously. "Did your hairdresser do that?" He asks, sounding annoyed. You nod slowly.

He looks surprised for a moment, maybe even a little hurt. “Lets get you home, I had a feeling that something has been making me feel uneasy today.” You don’t say anything, you don’t want to argue. He pulls you along behind him, his long black coat swishing against the cement as he walks.

As you both walk inside he guides you to take a seat and he tries his beat to comfort you. “Do you wanna tell me what was bothering you?” He asks quietly. You shrug in response, still staring at your hands folded in your lap.

He sighs heavily. “Okay. If you want to keep quiet then we will.” That makes you look up and stare at him in surprise.

“Just let me make you atleast feel better than before.” Leon takes some scissors and a brush and touched your hair up with gentle motions. He hummed in approval when he finally finished and went to grab some paper and a pencil from the kitchen. “I have no idea why you haven’t had an idea to ask me to cut your hair before, it might help make you feel more comfortable rather than letting some hairstylist make it shitty.”

He pauses for a second before starting to gaze into your eyes through the mirror, which made you feel as if he was eye fucking you. Your cheeks flushed pink. “It looks fine. Better than fine even. Just keep it that way. You’re beautiful.” Your heart jumped at how sweet he said those words.

His fingers brushed across your cheek gently before returning to cutting your bangs into a short style. You closed your eyes as he gently pulled you in for a small kiss, then a few minutes later he was done fixing your hair. “Thank you,” you mumbled as he set the scissors and the paper aside.

“You’re welcome. I hope that helped a bit,” Leon replied, placing a kiss on your forehead as he got up. You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled softly.

Your boyfriend always managed to make your mood improve somehow even if it wasn’t necessarily intentional. He gave off an aura that seemed to make everything okay again, even the most difficult days. Even just talking about you made him happier than anything and he was very good at that sort of thing.

You couldn’t believe you found such amazing boyfriend.

[ran-orimoto]

[ Like always, @teclajellymon made me notice I hadn’t cross-posted my monthly (laughing) Junzumi one-shot here, so ,thank you, Tecla. Again.This time I offer you a different Junzumi, not really the one you’re used to because Izumi isn’t really that present in this, except in an indirect way. Actually I think it’s high time I started dealing with creating a family background for Izumi , and soon for Junpei as well. So, something different for September. But hello, it’s already October✨ .]

{La gente che incontri nella pioggia } | {Those you meet under the rain}

If Blitzmon hated him so much, because there was no way he could bring himself to believe he was detested by Nature itself, he should tell him that right away, so they could find a good compromise allowing him to live a normal life.

He wasn’t asking for that much. He just wanted to be safely allowed to jump on a train taking him far from home, get off at a random stop, take a stroll through the narrow streets of a park and their shadows, wandering in a maze made of hundred alleys.

Until it dawned on him the building complex he had been led to looked way too familiar along with that little square before it, the benches, the trees scattering leaves on their white marble, the residents hurrying to the glass door, eager to go back home after a long work day and just giving a glance to that young bizarre stranger they had never seen before.

Probably.

And his ravings, with which he had been repeating the same two or three sentences, suddenly quieted down, getting stuck in his throat as if to warn him there was someone else who wanted to talk as much as he wanted to, though with much more resolution.

…

“If you…I just…I mean, nothin-“ He knew it was just a mischievous illusion that had just made him believe the scenario in front of him had shaken like if devastated by an earthquake.

Still, what came afterwards, the chilly feeling of drops falling on the tip of his fingers, the sensation of wiping them as they slipped down his skin was real, just like the expletive he soon muttered with all the irritation building up in his bosom.

At that point, after having done, indeed, not done that so many times, it would have been better if he just gave up getting angry at himself and that matching part of his spirit he had left who knew where.

He was a peculiar gone case, constantly perservering in forgetting his umbrella at home. Buttoning his shirt up downstairs while keeping the TV turned on in the background, a woman blabbing and pointing at a map dotted with glowing clouds dominating the screen, hadn’t helped, either, apparently.

Blitzmon had nothing to do with his tendency to make the same mistakes all over again, no matter Izumi herself had scolded him over that once, back when he had showed up at a meeting of their group soaking wet from head to toe…Grinning like an idiot because he believed that would magically calm her down. He hated being treated like Takuya and that afternoon she unfortunately had, which was the reason why he hadn’t been able to enjoy the rare shower of attention he had been receiving by no one else but her.

Much stronger than before, no longer sounding like someone shifting furniture by making wood legs slid and screech against the floor, the second thunder of that tempest ensured Junpei heard its roar loud and clear at that round.

Ok, ok, I get it. it’s high time I went back home.

After all he had nothing to do there.

Needless to underline how he didn’t dare to speak after that rumble, but even if he had had, his usual blabbing would have come out in the form of incoherent stutters, even worse than the ones he had been fighting against for hours. To the boy who’s still deathly afraid of the voice of the skies, those shouts would almost sound deafening, like the steps of giant dinosaurs created by special effects in those documentaries he often enjoyed watching; like the prelude to an imminent end of the world.

Thus, petrified yet trembling at the same time, - out of both terror and cold-, unable to go further or back, he stood still in the heart of that cascade seeming to have gained tonnes in weight. Water was getting heavier, thicker, freezing, infiltrating not only in his shoes and socks, but also in the opening spaces of his gakuran.

If he was restored to his mobility, he was sure he would stay where he was, maybe exploiting that silent bless just to crouch down and sigh, because the subsequent, abrupt drop of temperature was brought by a mist of condensation quickly swallowing his surroundings in a humid blur. He had paradoxically got lost in a place he knew pretty well. Though he was aware in what exact spot he was, he found himself getting progressively confused about which direction would have led him to the station in brighter, -literally and figuratively-, circumstances. Whether he headed for right or left, or took the path behind him ,whose contours were fading in the spectral greyness in leaps and bounds, it wasn’t granted he wouldn’t disappear as well, swift hypothesis that made him resign to the fact he had exchanged his rationality for a mush of nonsense.

Like usual, nothing new there. No matter how often he would keep on getting caught in the storm, he would always go through all the stages of that descent into the most recondite parts of his brain: it was precisely in those moments when he tossed the crumbs of his common sense away like bread thrown at pidgeons, he would understand why they had been secluded in such depths.

In most cases he would manage to snap out of it by himself. The puzzle his present had transformed into would tidy its tiles; the shivers running up and down his body would start making him feel more alive than ever; his orbs, which had been wide open for the whole time being, would feel like having just come out from the darkness to make him realize there was another kind of fog that should concern him more than the one hovering over Shinjuku, and he would need to dissipate it as soon as possible before he developed a cold or worse.

He would with his willpower, his hands, or…An umbrella.

An umbrella that wasn’t his, of course. Although he was in that emaciated state, he could have never had doubts about that.

The metallic tip pointed at his chest, piercing through the pall of moisture like a sword, didn’t obviously belong to him.

He blinked at the item suspended in the air, exclusively focusing on its cylindrical shape as if it was being held by an invisible ghost and not by a tall man in the flesh. It could be stated he was ignoring that silhouette on purpose, not finding it reassuring to acknowledge the only elements of the enviroment that were clearly visible were that stranger and his two umbrellas, -the one he had unsheathed against him and another perched on his shoulder to protect his well-combed strands from the rain. His blonde strands.

“Prendi,” To him, it was much easier to convince himself an umbrella had just spoken with a tenebrous tone, -in italian, nonetheless!-, than accepting that man, an ordinary human, had. “Oh! I’m talking to you,” Still, Junpei’s foolish intent became increasingly harder due to those tugs given to the item to highlight the peremptory message. “Will you grab this umbrella, per l’amor del cielo…? Oh mio Dio, possibile che siate tutti degli idioti?”

Now there were so many other things making him shudder: the tangible exasperation expressed in an advanced italian, almost dialectal, which he would have never been able to translate without a vocabulary, the boiling impatience clashing with the azure of peaceful mornings, wrinkles creating furrows on the surface of a wide forehead, -the type itself you would associate with men endowed with remarkable intelligence-.

No…It wasn’t weird. He might not be a great observant, -or so he was bound to believe for reasons-, but back when Izumi had decided to organize her twelfth birthday party at her place, oh if he hadn’t stared.

It wasn’t a miracle if he could still recall some specific details after years from that day, still vividly blushing at the memory of her endeared mother giggling at that Junpei-Kun being such a shy child, unlike the other boys, even someone as reserved as Kouji who had been amiably chatting with the welcoming couple, quenching their lovely curiosity’s thirst by replying to any question of theirs.

In his defence, he couldn’t help it: in spite of how different she looked from Izumi, with those soft auburn curls framing her angular features, the woman was so beautiful he hadn’t been able to keep himself from wondering Izumi would grow up in such a gorgeous adult someday. Whenever she asked him about his hobbies, he would avert his gaze and stammer on his own answer, which would make the woman gently laugh and occasionally coo.

He absolutely wasn’t like that, but he had let Izumi’s parents temporarily consider him as a polite, timid, bashful friend of their daughter. He had told himself he would introduce himself properly next time they would cross paths, but it seemed it wasn’t an urgent necessity for now, -or, perhaps, it was never going to be-, judging from his behaviour in the man’s regards.

In Signor Orimoto’s.

“Ehm…No,” He mumbled, internally screaming since he had no idea about what he was exactly doing. He chose to pick a courteous expression he had learnt to heart from a list of useful phrases any tourist going to Italy should keep in mind. The magic formula that would rescue him from his embarrassing trouble in the blink of an eye. For Heaven’s sake, what had he done? “No, grazie, S-Signor Orimoto.”

“N-no grazie?” The man predictably repeated and the echo of his own idiocies made him wish his briefcase, brimming with the most desparate, useless bits and pieces, could make him sink underground. Nevertheless, what happened was that he got dragged to the entrance of the building, under a roof which made the rain tapping turn muffled and even relaxing at some extent, -if he could just calm down!- “No grazie?! What does that even mean? Vedi se prendi questo ombrello! And hurry, please! I have to pick Izumi up.”

So, she isn’t at home. I see. This whole mess for nothing, He found himself cracking a smile of incomprehensible relief, making the adult fairly perplexed.

“No!” Waving his hands in front of his visual field, now shadowed by the tangle of his longish bangs, he attempted to recompose himself without success. He would have bowed repeatedly, if it wouldn’t have spoiled his hairstyle even more. “Signor Orimoto, I thank you again, but I don’t really need your umbrella. It only takes two minutes to get to the station. I-I will be fine, no need to worry about me, eh eh.”

“I know where the station is and I still insist you do,” If he could forget that tragicomedy he was living in and mute that sort of scold, he would take his time to appreciate that unique dance of fingers of his. As collected as she wanted to be, Izumi would try avoiding being so colourful in her silver tongue as much as she could, keeping her hands on her thighs and making them hang onto them when the urge became too unbearable to control. “You can keep it until you see Izumi again. It’s just a spare umbrella. We are the ones not needing it.”

His irises , now filled not only with honey but also with uninvited melancholy, jumped back into the insubstantiality of a non-existent horizon. Though that was what he initially wanted, he didn’t get the so-longed result of succeeding at kicking some certain thoughts away.

You see, the fact is that I never get to see Izumi-Chan. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been here in the hope of talking to her after so long. But now…I’m kinda glad my plan has failed so miserably. What would have I told her if she had found me here, seriously?! How could she have believed I was just taking a stroll?! Couldn’t you have just called her, idiot?!

It came a spontaneous consequence for him to ask himself if that hadn’t been some kind of punishment for his incorrigible immaturity, his indelibile cowardice. Actually , if he could be honest with himself, in that pattern of concatenated events he could definitely identify something similar to a law of retaliation. He had been dreaming about meeting Izumi in a sunny afternoon for days, picturing her surprised response, her shining, alluring jades conveying the same happiness he was feeling, whereas in his reality he had run into her father in the middle of a pouring disaster and had also annoyed him with that attitude of his.

Again, what was he thinking he was doing?

“So you won’t accept to borrow my umbrella.”

Overwhelmed by the speed of that unappreciated stream of consciousness, he limited himself to hang his head in a willing mutism.

“You have deliberately chosen to go back to the station without my umbrella.”

Then, he raised his chin, and ,somehow, the man found that funny enough to burst into a series of entertained chuckles.

“You have retreated into the shell again, haven’t you? I guess I have insisted too much. It’s just that you boys are so reckless nowadays. You are all the same, cookie-cutter.”

“I’m n-not reckless,” At those insinuations, he couldn’t continue escaping from the direct contact with him any more. “I just…I just…” But it dawned on him it wasn’t like he had a lot of arguments to cling to, especially in front of a skilled, respected diplomat. He couldn’t really complain about how he didn’t want to be compared with people like Takuya, the only impulsive one of their group, in his opinion. On the contrary, he was just…Stupid. And now he was left questioning if there was an actual difference between their flawed personalities. Simultaneously, he couldn’t really explain him why he had been rejecting his offer with so much determination, either.

“Yeah, it feels strange to label someone like you reckless,” After a second of startled hesitation, the man pretended to be clearing his throat with a fake cough. “But today I felt like I’ve got to get a glimpse of a side of yourself I would have never imagined it even existed.”

“You mean…The side of myself that can speak?”

He regretted having been so blunt, externalizing a wave of ashamed disgust towards those recollections they shared.

“More or less, yeah. I like finding out what you boys hide under your surface. At first I told myself Takuya acted without thinking, would hurt himself by putting his hand in fire, but then I have realized he does that because he puts his safety behind the one of those he cares about,” Like that, he went on scrolling through a past spent with Izumi’s friends, an amount of time he seemed to have greatly benefited from. At a certain point Junpei got the impression Izumi was by his side, as he was convinced there was no one else who knew them so well. Yet, he might have been wrong for all those years or, probably, it was merely one of the special gifts the family had been given. As far as concerned himself, he could only blather in that way when it came to Izumi’s endless list of good points and talents. “Kouji often gives you the impression you are bothering him, but the truth is that there are just days he doesn’t feel like being in the company of other people. Kouichi is placid, it’s soothing to chat with him, but sometimes I get the feeling he has gone through a lot and I will start pondering my words, -you know, I tend to talk a lot and my wife says I should shut up because I sound like a parrot, ah ah-. Tomoki is one of those lads you should never understeem. Of course, he’s the youngest of you all, so I used to treat him differently, if you get what I mean. I’m glad he made me notice I should have given him more credit. He’s so clever and he can also handle debates brilliantly. And finally-“

“And finally there’s me…Who can speak,” He didn’t know if he was feeling a pang of envy at those compliments addressed to the others, but he recognized he was at fault there since he had been running away from an enormous amount of chances. During his middle school years his crush on Izumi had…Changed, and a hunch would always suggest he should decline each of Izumi’s invitation at her place, bizarre as it sounded, -and bitter as it would taste later-.

“I admit I couldn’t believe to Izumi’s words when she told me you are not like that. Junpei non è cosi’, Papà. Non è cosí. Then, I asked her what you were like.”

“A-And what did she tell you?” The desire to vanish in a hole, which was supposed to take shape in the ground beneath his feet out of blue, became even more annoying after that display of excited interest. He thanked the rain for having sewn a curtain of hair on his face, as he was feeling tremendously self-conscious about the scarlet blood animating his cheeks and the lucid enthusiasm reflecting in his orbs. And could he be blamed about that? He absolutely wanted to listen to what Izumi thought about him. He was eager to find out if she had some peculiar opinion about him!

“She told me…” Since he was wavering, he didn’t intend to suspect he was manufacturing some lie not to make him curl up in his taciturnity again. “Papà, Junpei is Junpei.”

“J-Junpei is Junpei…” Well, that…Wasn’t what he was expecting. He wasn’t going to deny it, though he wasn’t sure whether he was disappointed or jealous because, like usual, the others seemed to blow her mind, her senses , and her sweet descriptions held such a grace they were structured as impalpable poetry carried by the wind. He could invent time machine, travel back in centuries and millennia to pick the first flower ever that had been bathed by dew, hurry back to give it to her and everything would be the same.

Of course, it would, because I don’t want to make Izumi-Chan fall for me by impressing her. Still…Still…Junpei is Junpei. What does that even mean…?

“I wonder if you know what it means,” As if he had read his mind, the man’s pensive comment overlapped with his internal struggles.

“No, I don’t.” But I wish I did.

“But how is it possible you don’t know who Junpei is?” Both flinched at one of those sporadic lightnings dashing down the wall of the waterfall, unannounced. “This damned thunderstorm is getting worse, isn’t it?”

“You should call Izumi to ensure she has been waiting for you outside instead of being here, wasting time chatting with me,” Almost comforted by that break fracturing that dialogue of theirs, Junpei promptly seized the moment to sneak out of that inconvenience.

“Hey, calma. Izumi hasn’t finished her photoshot yet. She will call me when she does. And talking to you boys is never a waste of time. I want to know my daughter’s friends because I want her to be surrounded with wonderful people deserving to be part of her life. My wife wasn’t that pleased when she heard Izumi had a group of friends made up of boys. I was so happy, instead. The more people in my little pupa’s life, the better. That’s why it’s important for me to know you better day after day.”

It made sense, Junpei nodded to himself. He might not be the protective kind of father he imagined he would be, but he was legitimately worried about who Izumi hanged out with.

“I-I see,” He nodded for a second time just to fill the the void the man had left behind his speech, now caring about playing a more active role as an interlocutor.

”So…who is Junpei? May I know who he is?”

“Junpei is…” And that could be said about that awkward demand as well. “Someone who’s trying to figure out who he is. I’ve… I’ve recently decided I want to study opera singing.”

He didn’t find the courage to look up at the adult, but he could grasp the swinging of mood latched with his exclamation.

”Wow, sembra tosto!”

“What?”

“Opera singing is hard. You must be really passionate to want to take such a path. What pushed you to make such a decision?”

”I-I,” His neck was going to sustain a big tomato instead of his head very soon. “I-l like i-italian. And I like entertaining people, seeing smiles or tears on their face.”

”Junpei, ma è meraviglioso!” The bento he had frantically prepared in the morning took the way upwards from his stomach, once a powerful pat landed on his back. That lean man astoundingly concealed such a power in his muscles it made him trip in his own fears about him again. He kept on torturing his poor shoulder blades like that, chirping with renewed spirit. At that point the real question was who Signor Orimoto really was. “Then, it’s mandatory: you have to come home like the others do and tell me everything about opera. Would you look at how life mocks you? Years ago I would refuse to go to opera with colleagues, now my daughter has got a future opera singer as friend.”

Speaking of Izumi, an old-fashioned ring started vibrating in the pocket of the man’s elegant coat, right when he needed for providential help the most.

“Oh, it’s my little pupa!” As soon as he let Junpei go, the boy risked to fall on his knees, panting, with his tongue out. The only force preventing him from indulging in that state was his panic, immediately catching some words he would need to repress as soon as he could.

“No, please! Perfavore!” He cried, but in vain. When a father received a call from his daughter after a tough day of work, he would isolate himself from the whole universe to savour every single second spent with her.

“Izumi, you don’t know who-“

So, he resorted to other methods, simple yet, -he hoped-, effective. Italians spoke through gestures, so it would be hilarious if the man couldn’t get the meaning of his clasped hands, his frame oscillating back and forth, his gritted teeth, his,- detail he preferred omitting-, puppy eyes he didn’t even want to know what they looked like on him.

Please, I beg you, don’t tell her I came here to visit.

And Signor Orimoto back-pedalled at once, not resisting to give him a playful wink, though. “You don’t know who is probably coming to Japan…!”

He wasn’t certain if he was just imagining Izumi’s squeals guessing the mysterious guest without a shred of hint, but what mattered the most was that she would never know about what had happened that afternoon.

Still… Still, both she and her mother failed to understand why ,all of a sudden, the man started becoming a fan of opera, eventually also buying CDs to put in the background of the house’s library.

Years ago it was the turn of football, sport he had always detested, and videogames, -yes, videogames-, after a while he had begun watching documentaries about far and dangerous zones of the world and tv series about doctors, -the only one of those unexplainable interests he had ended up dropping very quickly-.

Signora Orimoto wasn’t that content about that new passion of her husband’s. At all. If she wanted to take an afternoon nap, she would have to plug her ears due to that music making the walls of their house quake.

…

”So, will you take this umbrella for once and for all?”

He scratched his chin, mulling over the persistent request with more affection now.

“I suppose, I will. Va bene.”

So he would find a more solid excuse to meet Izumi without making a fool of himself.

After all, Junpei was Junpei.

XXX

Italian notes (surprise, surprise~~~)

• Prendi: “Take it”

• Per l’amor del cielo: For Heaven’s sake.

• Oh mio Dio, possibile che siete tutti degli idioti?: “Oh my God, is it possible you all are a bunch of idiots?” Signor Orimoto was trying being *polite* and having tact in the regards of poor Junpei, eh XD?

Vedi se prendi questo ombrello: it’s a colloquial way to urge someone to, -in this case-, grab an offered umbrella as soon as they can.

• Junpei non è cosi’, Papà. Non è cosí: Junpei is not like that, Papà. He is not like that.

• Pupa is girl in sicilian. I like thinking Signor Orimoto enjoyed Sicily a lot, but that will be another story XD. However, it might also be connected with pupi siciliani, dolls used in the traditional theatre from there. By the way, I don’t think it’s that common as an affectionate nickname for your child, but my sicilian grandmother calls me that.

• Ma è meraviglioso! - But it’s wonderful !

[bellysoupset]

not a request but a story I think you might enjoy bc istg this is the most emeto / whump fic thing thats ever happened to me

so I was on a long haul (11+ hour) flight yesterday coming back from a holiday, and I felt pretty much fine on the flight except for a little bit of a tummy ache because my period started just as I got on. I had been a bit nauseous before getting on but that went away after takeoff. I didn’t sleep at all on the plane but I thought that wouldn’t be a problem since I rarely sleep on flights and I’m usually fine, but oh boy…

Once I got off the plane my neighbour picked me up and they took me to their restaurant to grab some food. I got a bowl of beef brisket noodles where the meat had plenty of fat and the soup itself had a decent amount of oil. It was a dish I usually liked but in this instance turned out to be a huge mistake. In an attempt to be nice to my plane stomach my neighbour had apparently requested the chef make it rather bland for me, which was putting it lightly. Unfortunately it did also make the oil taste stronger. It was nice at first but started to become more offputting as I started to overheat - today was the hottest day of the entire year in my country - and then my neighbour got us all out some watermelon which I ate quickly so that we could leave sooner - again, huge mistake.

So then I got on the car with my neighbour and her two kids. The kids I’m usually great friends with and they like talking to me, but after about 2 minutes of being on the car I started feeling pretty bad — I had these really bad tummy cramps that I couldn’t tell if they were from my period or from eating something; I was really warm and the sun was shining on me the whole time; also I was starting to get the tiniest bit carsick. It definitely didn’t help that my mouth had that sour gross aftertaste of watermelon but I couldn’t bring myself to drink any water to get rid of it because I was afraid that putting anything in my mouth would make me throw up. Have I also mentioned that I’ve got a cold and I’ve been awake for about 18 hours as well?

So I asked the kids to be quiet for a bit and told them I’d been awake for too long and they tried their best (they’re like 8). I just sat there with my eyes closed and tried not to break down in any way. Thankfully after a while the cramps stopped but the nausea kept getting worse and worse until I was like, spitting onto my fingers / the collar of my dress, if that makes sense, to try and get rid of the taste in my mouth. I could also feel a burp rising in my chest but I knew that if that came out I would throw up in my neighbour’s car so I did everything I could to keep it down.

After a few minutes of sitting there w my eyes closed my neighbour jokingly goes “you’re not carsick are you?” and I go “no I’m just feeling bad bc I’m on my period” (I have a problem about telling people when I’m feeling bad, I always try and lie about it and say I’m fine lol) but then for some godforsaken reason that comment makes me even More nauseous to the point where I asked her if there was a bag anywhere on the car because I was so convinced I’d lose control and I thought at least having a backup plan - even if I hated throwing up - would be better than losing it and getting puke in my dress and her car. But there wasn’t a bag so I just had to sit there…

And then it gets really weird. My whole body starts going really cold which I found weird because until that point I had been overheating like crazy. And I thought my neighbour had just turned the AC on more but she said she hadn’t. And then I couldn’t feel my legs lol. Like I knew they were there but when I put my hands on them I couldn’t feel my hands really. So yeah I basically fainted in my neighbour’s car. and I was STILL NAUSEOUS >:(

When I got home I was literally so weak I had to sit in the car for five whole minutes till I could get up. They helped me get my suitcases and stuff out of the back and I basically stumbled to my door and then sat down on a stool as soon as I got in. Then it took another 10 minutes of sitting there as the world bobbed up and down under my feet to be able to do the stairs. I felt really bad for my neighbour TBH bc I was being pretty pathetic and she had especially come to get me and I ended up being way more effort than I could have been. After they left I went upstairs and believe it or not I didn’t even have a fever when I checked! I just felt this bad purely from overheating / travel sickness. Although I did have a pretty explosive poo as well so maybe it was also the noodles? That helped a lot actually so then I was able to unpack and pack for my residential the next day (yeah, i know…) and then sleep. Except I kept waking up because my stomach hurt :( (a killer combo of an upset belly and period cramps.). And I STILL have a cold. No nausea anymore though so I’ll take that as a win.

This got really long but hope you enjoy lol

- ☂️

For your residential the next day??? girl you're a champ, i've have given up going already. this was a ride, poor thing!! I cannot imagine how terrible it must've felt, not just the plane, with the stranger, but with your neighbor as well!! 😭😭😭

I did enjoy reading it, but I feel so bad for you!!

[thesmokingguns]

Easter with peach

AN. Oops.

It was not going to be a good Easter, Peach was very aware of the very bad mood that Nikki was in because of the lawsuit with Mick. It wasn’t just that he was upset that he was being sued by someone he considered close, it was that he was embarrassed.

Hearing people make fun of him, the cruel things posted online. He was 64 years old and he wasn’t getting younger anytime soon. And yet they expected him to be the same bass player, to have the same stamina and skill as when he was 24. It was exhausting and infuriating him. And his pride. His pride was wounded which was the biggest problem of all. Because as much as Nikki fought that he did not record the tracks he could see people all saying that they liked him but that they believed Mick. No one believed him and he hated that.

The statement the band had made, all fueled at the height of their fury, was also not helping matters because reading it back Nikki was very aware at how cruel they had been and yet he couldn’t take a step back from it.

What was done, was done.

Peach woke up early, peeking to the end of the bed and expecting to see an Easter basket. Nikki had given her one every year that they were together, trying to make up for what she hadn’t had as a kid and finding another reason to spoil her. When she saw only the basket she made for him and Nikki asleep in bed her pout settled on her face.

There were two ways that she could handle this: just give Nikki grace and understand he had forgotten her favorite holiday and be extra sweet and make him feel so guilty that his stomach ached from the sweetness she showered him with. It was obvious what she was going with.

She was quiet as she snuck downstairs, preparing the brunch. Peach used pinterest to create a breakfast charcuterie board and took her time with the drip coffee. She was quiet as she made shapes out of fruits and went the extra mile with breakfast. She wanted every step of Nikki’s day to be met with over the top Easter goodness.

Searching online for a local church she found an Easter service that started in an hour. She would shower, get dressed up and leave Nikki alone with all the nice things that she had done. Let him stew in his shithead behavior.

When Nikki awoke he rubbed his eyes, surprised to see a bottle of water and a note at the side of the table. He couldn’t remember when Peach had left him a note like this ever in their relationship. She was the one who would beg for five more minutes of sleep and stay snug in bed most mornings.

‘Good morning love of my life,

Surprises for you at the end of the bed and downstairs courtesy of the Easter Bunny. Went to church for Easter service.

XOXO

Peach’

Nikki swore. He was not happy about the surprises because he knew that with all the Crue’s drama he had forgotten his girl's favorite holiday. Seeing that she went all out for him made it even worse.

Peach had made Nikki a basket with all his favorite things in it. From his favorite cologne to X rated polaroids of her in bunny ears to stay with the theme of things. She had ordered his favorite chocolate from a small shop in southern france and had bought him a few new things for fishing season. And Dodgers tickets to really let him know that this basket was all the things he loved. He felt terrible.

Knowing Peach wasn’t home made it easier to avoid going downstairs for his next surprise. He took his time taking a shower and trying to think of a last minute gift for his girl. Unfortunately for him he lived in a red state now and that meant that all the shops were closed because Jesus had risen and he was not going to be getting Peach a shiny diamond to take her mind off the basket that he had forgotten to make her.

What Nikki didn’t know was well he was in the shower thinking of what he could do to make this better Peach was now leaving church. She didn’t want to go home so she sat in the truck Nikki normally drove scrolling through Instagram. There was a Dm from an actor she followed and she felt her cheeks flush and then her stomach tighten in guilt over the message that was nothing but friendly. It was just saying that he was wishing her a Happy Easter and he remembered last year how much she had posted about it. She had never talked to this person before so she just liked the message and wished him back a happy easter, heading home thinking about how another man had remembered Easter was her favorite holiday, picking up Nikki’s fumble. Then again, English men did have a lot of charm.

Peach pulled up outside, looking at the box on the front porch and feeling her heartbeat rise. Had Nikki hidden her present out here? She was rushing from the truck, looking at the package and opening it. Sure enough inside was an easter basket along with pink peonies, one of her favorite flowers. The basket was filled with candles and a blanket, a cute pair of rose quartz earrings, tea. All things of comfort that made her tilt her head, very aware that this wasn’t from Nikki.

She opened the note, gulping as she realized that not only had a man just slid into her DM’s but he had slid right onto her porch.

Peach knew she could bring this in and watch Nikki lose his mind, make him jealous or she could hide it in her trunk, which she absolutely was going to do. She tucked the note in her handbag, grabbed the flowers thinking of an excuse for where they came from, wondering with all that was going on if Nikki would notice or not. Stepping inside Peach looked and saw Nikki eating the food she laid out for him.

Her lips smiled at how he looked and she was thankful to be home with him. And maybe she wouldn’t be so petty today. But her heart raced as she thought about how another man had made her feel special and she felt guilty, wondering if she should mention it to Nikki.

He looked up, seeing her and smiling then and Peach knew she would have to keep this her dirty little secret.