#pill bottles are exhausting. sure i can put my whole torso into it and open them... but SHOULD I have to?

[bobcat-pie]

easy open advil my beloved <3

[eros-ghoulette]

Fruit bar

The morning after these events: Welcome to my world

Characters: Zephyr, Ifrit Word count: 647

The second Ifrit woke up, he felt like absolute shit. His back and both shoulders felt stiff, and there was this pain going from his back to his torso. He turned a bit, trying to get into a better position, but he just couldn’t; the sling made it practically impossible to lay in a different position than now, and after a few more minutes he sat up. The fireghoul took a deep breath and felt it throughout his whole upper body. Yesterday it had only been his shoulder that had hurt, but now he started to believe he had injured more than just that.

“What you doin’?”, he heard Zephyr ask next to him, voice raspy and full of sleep. Half of their face was pressed into a pillow, their hair messy, and they were trying not to close the one opened eye again.

“Gonna take a piss,” he mumbled, “You can go back to sleep.”

Ifrit left the room before Zephyr had the chance to answer. He stretched, trying to get the ache out of his back, but his muscles just felt exhausted, like he hadn’t slept for days, and he sighed.

When he entered his bedroom minutes later again, he saw Zephyr still lying in bed, their back turned towards him. But that changed as soon as Zeph's sleep-drunk brain realized he was back. They sat up with a groan and turned to face him.

“Have you taken something?” they wanted to know, being well aware of Ifrit's pain, the smell of him filling the whole room. They huffed as he shook his head and reached for the drawer in Ifrit's nightstand. The airghoul pulled out a pack of painkillers and a fruit bar Ifrit kept in case Zeph needed any. They also found a half-drunken bottle of soda and got it too.

“Sit,” Zeph commanded the other and waited for him to do as they said.

Ifrit slumped over and sat down beside them.

“These are for you, Zeph,” he protested, but still reached for the fruit bar. Medications should not be taken on an empty stomach, as Aether always told them.

“You bought them, ‘frit,” they answered and watched the other munching down his snack before handing him one of the pills.

“Yeah, for you,” Ifrit said. Despite that, he still took the pill and then the offered bottle.

“That doesn’t matter.” Zephyr looked at him and then took a pillow to lean it against the headboard, only to lean himself against it. They made some space between their legs and held their arms out. “Come here.”

Ifrit blushed; he never managed not to blush when Zeph did something like that. But his face also showed hesitation: “You sure?”

“I’ll tell you when you get too heavy, ‘frit,” they said, chuckling a bit.

The fireghoul slowly settled there, his back pressed against Zeph's chest, as they put their arms around him, burying their face in his hair and inhaling deeply. Ifrit couldn’t stop the purr that rattled through his chest.

“I’ll do your hair today,” Zephyr mumbled in his locks. Normally it was Ifrit who did the airghoul's hair, but with one arm, it would be hard to do so. “Make your locks look as pretty as always.”

Ifrit chuckled: “Really? Can you?” He asked and raised an eyebrow, turning his head slightly, only so Zeph could see his expression. They rolled their eyes.

“I’ll try then,” they corrected themselves and hugged the fireghoul a bit deeper, resulting in a louder purr. Ifrit also kicked the heat up, soothing his own aches more, and he knew exactly how much Zeph loved it. He felt how the other pressed another kiss on his head, humming quietly. It was a good day, a fantastic day if you ask him, because he may be in some pain, but he had Zeph, like Zeph always had him. _______________ Someone, i won't say names, planted their thoughts in my head again and i planned to write this before, and now it was a need to include the whole hair thing. Also, one of my new favourite headcanons is that Ifrit keeps painkillers and snacks in his room for Zeph.

[you-can-wear-my-face]

Thomas Hewitt/Selectively Mute! Reader, part two

Part One

Summary: The Sheriff picks you up after you broke down on the side of the road. You know this can’t end well, but he makes you an offer you can’t refuse; use your nursing skills to heal the giant man he brings you to, and you can go free. Unfortunately for you, he obviously needs more than a nurse. (And how can you be sure he’ll really let you go when ‘Thomas’ is healed?)

C/W: Medical use of maggots, self-harm references. Also, please do not use anything here as medical advice. This is a slasher/reader fic, not a manual on first aid.

Note: As I said, I have no self control.

You wrote down an explanation for the maggots, trying not to let your shaking obscure your handwriting. Hoyt snatched it from you, obviously suspicious after your last note. The woman was glaring at you openly. Whatever points you’d briefly won with her were lost. Hoyt grunted. “Hmmph. They’ll eat the dead skin. Leave the good skin. That right?” You nodded. He grunted again, still skeptical. “Why can’t you just cut it off, huh? Ain’t like the boy hasn’t done it to his own—“

“Charlie Hewitt, you better not finish that sentence, ‘less you wanna see if I can still give you a good spanking.”

He turned his glare on her, mockingly parroting her words back at her before adding, “You don’t scare me, woman.” But you noticed he didn’t finish his sentence. He focused back on you. “Well? Just cut it off.” You shook your head, reaching for the pen and paper again. He held it out of your reach, mouth turned upward in a smirk. The woman slapped a hand to his chest, earning an aborted swear. “Mama, what the hell was—?”

She snatched the pen and paper, passing it to you. “You brought her here to fix Thomas. I ain’t gonna let you harass her while there’s something she can do to help him.”

He grumbled something to himself but pulled away to lean against the wall, picking at his teeth while you wrote. You hesitated a moment, then added a question at the bottom. You passed the note to the woman. She eyed it, then eyed you.

“Luda Mae,” she said, in answer to your scribbled question. “Charlie, go get the girl her maggots.”

“Mama—“

“Go on,” she said, “We got plenty of ‘em around here. You know where to look.” He sighed. “You’re getting too used to giving Tommy all the dirty jobs. Don’t think I ain’t seen it. Go. She ain’t a surgeon or a doctor, and she don’t wanna make it worse for him. She says maggots’ll help? Well we got maggots to spare. I’ll see what I can do about the rest of this list but...” She shook her head. “Ain’t likely to find much.”

You swallowed. It was just your luck that you’d end up in the backcountry of Texas, inside a home with an abundance of maggots and a complete lack of medical supplies—and with your life riding on your ability to heal the man in front of you.

It was almost funny, if you looked at it like that.

You nodded and shrugged, trying to convey acceptance without words. They—somehow—seemed to get it and left you to your devices, though Hoyt grumbled the whole time. Just before he shut and locked the door, he reminded you not to do anything stupid. You nodded, and he stepped outside. The door shut and the lock clicked, leaving you alone with your patient.

You exhaled slowly, a lot of the tension leaving you with their absence. You could almost pretend this was just another house call. You eyed the gash across his chest and swallowed. Almost.

Stepping close to the prone man, you pulled the blankets down to his waist to check for any additional injuries. Minor cuts and bruises littered his torso, and you shook your head. “What happened to you?” you murmured. You found no humor in the irony that you had no trouble talking when other people weren’t around. (As Thomas was unconscious, he didn’t trouble you either.)

Setting a hand on his abdomen, you pressed lightly to see if there was any internal damage—and if there was, both you and he were screwed, because there was no way for you to fix that. Thankfully, you couldn’t find any unusual swellings or broken ribs, and his bruises all seemed to be surface injuries. You pulled the blanket the rest of the way off, but his family had apparently decided to preserve his modesty; his trousers were still on, though they were stained with blood and dirt. “These definitely need to go, big guy,” you told him, “I’d like to change the sheets, too, but I can’t imagine we’ll be moving you, huh?”

If you were in a hospital, you’d have had orderlies and other nurses to help you muscle the big man onto a gurney or another bed, but even with Hoyt and Luda Mae, you didn’t imagine you’d be moving him anywhere anytime soon.

You scribbled down a few more items you would need—scissors, a bedpan or at least a bucket—then resumed your exam. The flesh around his injury was red and angry-looking, or blackened and starting to rot. His torso was covered in coarse hair, and you added a razor to your list...then noted that the skin around his injury needed to be shaved, when you realized they probably weren’t going to give you anything like a weapon. Soap and water went on the list, as well as clean rags.

You pressed the underside of your wrist to his forehead. You hoped Luda Mae could find acetaminophen, or something similar, because his fever needed to be taken care of first and foremost. He was burning up, and that could kill him faster than anything else.

You hurriedly added latex gloves and a face mask to the list, but you were certain they had nothing like that around. It wouldn’t hurt to ask, though. You raised your hands, putting your fingers to his pulse-point and checking your watch to take his pulse, only to jump when a huge, hot hand engulfed your wrist. Your eyes met his, and your breath caught. Pure rage stared back at you, and your heart-rate skyrocketed once again. His hand squeezed, and the strength in his grip was terrifying. He sat up and seemed to loom, despite his obviously pained hunch. You licked your lips nervously, trying to calm yourself. He was likely delirious, and you’d seen the kind of damage even small women could inflict in a fit of delirium—you didn’t want to find out what this man might be capable of when he wasn’t in his right mind. It was hard to find your words, but you managed to say, “Thomas?”

That caused his eyes to widen a fraction, the anger evaporating into surprise. Exhaling hard, you smiled in relief. “H-hey there, big guy. Your family—“ You swallowed. “Found. They found me, Thomas.” You kept saying his name, hoping it would ground him. “Looks like you’re hurt, but I’m gonna take care of you, okay? I’m a nurse. I’m here to fix you up.” His other hand reached up to cover his face, and your brows furrowed. “Is there something wrong? Are you breathing okay?”

He just stared at you, one huge hand spanning the lower half of his face. Then you remembered the deformities you’d caught sight of, and your stomach twisted. Was he...hiding them? “Your mama said you had trouble talking. Is that true, Thomas?” He didn’t respond. You licked your lips again, nervous. His hand flexed on your wrist. “Okay. Um. I have a few questions for you. Can you nod for me?”

For a long minute, he didn’t respond, and you were starting to worry he really was delirious, but he gave you a slow nod, and you smiled. “Good. Good! Okay. Nod for me again if you’re hurt anywhere besides your chest.” He shook his head. “Does your head hurt?” He shook his head again. “Good. I see you’re covering your face. Are you having trouble breathing?” Another head shake. “Good. You’re doing really good for me, Thomas. Thank you for answering my questions. I’m going to explain what I’m doing, but I need you to give me back my hand, okay?” He exhaled hard, the sound almost like a growl. Nevertheless, he loosened his grip, and you smiled at him. “Thank you, Thomas. I’m just taking your pulse. So, I’m going to put my fingers on your neck and count your heartbeats. Is that okay?”

He eyed you, then gave a subtle nod. You pressed your fingers to his neck and felt his throat flex against your fingers as he swallowed. You checked your watch, counting his heartbeats as the seconds ticked down. When you were finished, you smiled at him and said, “Good. Your pulse is just fine. Now we’re going to see about getting that fever down, okay?”

He exhaled, watching you warily, but exhaustion seemed to get the better of him. He laid back down, head resting on the limp pillow, but he never took his hand off his face. The door opened behind you, and you turned, happy to see Luda Mae. “Did you find acetaminophen?”

She handed you a basket. “I emptied the medicine cabinet. Look in there, see if you can find—Thomas?” She went to him immediately and started fussing over him. He didn’t seem to react to her, his gaze fixed on you. “Don’t worry about her. She’s here to help. Hoyt found her.” She leaned close to Thomas, and you could hear faint whispering, but you couldn’t understand what she was actually saying. It didn’t matter—you were too busy sorting through the medicine bottles.

You grinned, finding a bottle of penicillin and a bottle of ibuprofen. Their expiration dates were long past, but digging deeper didn’t net you anything helpful.

“T-thank you,” you said, belatedly, You struggled to read the label, but it was too faded and worn. You eventually gave up and measured out what seemed like too many pills, hoping to counteract the pills’ age-induced ineffectiveness. You stepped alongside the bed and took Thomas’ free hand. You turned it palm-up, and passed off your handful of pills. He watched you intently the whole time, looking from your hand—resting lightly on the underside of his fingers—and back to your face, searching your features. You smiled for him, trying not to get nervous under his gaze. “W-water?” you asked, unable to get the full sentence out.

He just pulled his hand free of yours and sat up, turning his big body away to hide his face while he swallowed the pills dry. “Oh.” You looked to Luda Mae, and seeing the hard expression on her face, you tensed immediately. Swallowing hard, you gave her your list. She skimmed it, pausing to eye you.

“What do you need a face mask for, girl?”

Her tone was harsh, angry, and you had no idea why. You took the pen and paper, scribbling out an explanation. “It’s for you,” she said flatly, “You’re worried about getting your germs on him?” You nodded. She shook her head. “Ain’t got nothing like that ‘round here.”

A handkerchief? you wrote.

She cocked her head, then nodded. “Yeah. I can probably find something like that.”

“Gloves?” you asked.

“Nothing like you’re asking for—we got leather workman’s gloves. Would that work?” You shook your head, vowing to wash your hands especially thoroughly. “I’ve already got water heating up. I’ll bring up some soap when that’s ready. Hoyt’s not gonna let you have scissors—that just to cut the guaze?”

You glanced at Thomas, then at Luda Mae. Since he seemed lucid, you turned to address him directly. “Thomas, listen, there’s mud and blood on your trousers. Your injury is already infected. We need to try to keep things clean so the infection doesn’t come back once we get it all bandaged up. Do you think you can take off your pants on your own? Or do you need help?”

His eyes went wide, and he lunged for the blanket—but you saw the moment the pain hit him. His features paled and his hand fell away from his face, grasping at nothing. He never uttered a sound, though, and he still managed to snatch the blanket, pulling it up to his ribcage. He lay back against the pillow, breathing rough and glaring at you when he remembered to cover his face again.

You pressed both hands to your mouth, appalled that he’d hurt himself. Luda Mae just sighed, shaking her head like she’d expected that. “Shoulda pulled them off while he was sleeping,” she said to you. Now you stared at her, equally horrified. “Thomas Brown Hewitt, you behave yourself and let her do her job, you hear?”

He didn’t respond, didn’t acknowledge that she’d spoken at all—he just continued to glare at you. Wringing your hands, you were having trouble finding your words again, but you shook your head when Luda Mae tried to tug the blanket out of his grip. You caught her hand, shaking your head when she looked at you.

You weren’t going to force him to strip. He was conscious, apparently not delirious despite the fever. You were going to get him to cooperate with you. You just needed to find your words.

Exhaling slowly, you shooed her away from the bed and leaned down to meet Thomas’ gaze. “Thomas, I’m a nurse. I want to make you feel better. Sometimes, I might ask you to do something uncomfortable or even painful, but I’m not going to hurt you. Promise. Now, your ma can find a fresh pair of pants for you to wear, and I won’t look while you put them on or while you take these off. Would that be okay?”

Thomas searched your face. You had no idea what he was looking for or what he found, but eventually, he exhaled audibly—not quite a sigh or a snort, but something between the two—and gave you a subtle nod. You smiled, patting his hand. “Thank you, Thomas.” He stared at your hand on his, brows furrowed as if he was trying to understand something. You hesitated, then said, “You know, you don’t have to cover your face like that.” His gaze snapped back to your face, glaring again. You swallowed when he growled at you, and you held up your hands. “Okay. If you don’t want me to see, that’s okay too. Your ma is going to get me a handkerchief for my face, so I don’t germs on your injury. Would you like one too? So you don’t have to hold your hand over your face?”

He gave a firm nod. Luda Mae shook her head, but there was a grim smile on her face. “I’ll get you what you asked for, but I suggest you start explaining the maggots to him before Charlie gets back.”

Hearing that, Thomas grabbed your forearm, his grip almost painfully tight. You met his gaze, and his demand for an explanation was clear enough, even without words. Your heart jolted, but you laid your hand overtop his, smiling nervously as you tried to find the right words to explain to him.

[tobi-momo]

PROTECTOR {PART 3}

PART 3 of PROTECTOR

MASTERLIST

NEXT

PREVIOUS

Word Count: 2253

Synopsis: You had a happy life. Completely and utterly perfect. Atleast that’s how you acted. You may have had a hard childhood, but no one else needs to know that. You may be getting stalked by your insane ex-bestfriend, but it’s okay. It’ll all work itself out. Right?

Warnings: Injury, cursing, mean parents :(

BAKUGOU CAREFULLY sets you on his back and tells his mom that he’s leaving to take you home. He has your phone in his hand, surprised you don’t have a lock on it, but thinks nothing of it. He opens up your maps, finding your address. It was surprisingly close. Just a few blocks away. He starts walking, cautiously carrying you on his back. He checks every once in a while to see if you are about to fall off, or is visibly in pain.

You eventually start to wake up and find yourself on his back. Out of surprise, you shriek. You wrap your arms around him, although that’s not what you meant to do. You meant to push off of him, but you guess your body had other plans. You cling to him, linking your arms and legs together. He lets his arms rest for a little bit while you hang onto him, chuckling to himself.

“What’s so funny? I thought I was gonna fall!” You lie, trying to save yourself from the embarrassment while hitting him lightly on the back a couple times, and you lean close enough to see a light smirk on his face.

“You did not almost fall, although that would’ve been pretty funny. Besides how would you fall if you’re clinging onto me so hard, huh?” Your face drops in guilt, loosening your grip. Once he feels you doing this, he puts his arms under your knees, and carries you back to your house. “You better not faint on me like that again. Your mom was blowing up your phone so I had to hurry and get you home.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to put all of this on you, just forget any of it happened tomorrow. And just a question, but I was wondering about my shirt….you know,” you paused, “...it’s kind of, not on me...so…” Your cheeks turn a nice shade of pink asking the question, a little embarrassed to ask. 

“Huh? Oh, the electricity burned a hole through your shirt.”

“Uh, did you, you know, uh…”

“No, the fuck? I’m not a fuckin’ creep! I just gave the hoodie to my mom and she took care of it.”

“Oh, okay,” you let out an awkward chuckle, reassuring yourself that he didn’t see anything you didn’t want him to, “sorry I asked, I was just curious.”

“Tch, yeah. Whatever. Is this it?” You look to the side to see your living room lights on, with your parents sitting on the couch, waiting for you to come home. 

“Yeah. Thank you.” You unwrap your arms around his neck, and he drops his arms from your legs and you hop off his back, stumbling and trying to find your balance. Bakugou turns around and grabs your arms, helping you find your balance.

He looks back up at you, raising his arms to see if you can balance on your own. Once you take a couple steps on your own, he turns around and opens the gate for you, telling you to tug on his arm if you lose balance. You loosely hold onto his shirt while he walks you up to the front door, knocking three times.

The door opens wide with your mother at the door, panicking, and dragging you inside. 

“Thank you so much for taking her home. Bakugou, right?” Bakugou lets you out of his grasp to go into your house, backing up. He gives you your phone back, then answers your mothers question.

“Mm,” he nods, looking away.

“Well, I appreciate you doing this for her, she has a tendency to drag people into her dramatic spurs.” She lets out a forced chuckle as she hands you to your father, who sets you down on the couch. You ignore what they say about you, with intents of explaining yourself to him later.

“It was no problem.” He lifts his hand, signifying a wave, and walks down the steps back to the gate. “Bye.”

He walks away as the door closes, your mother then turning to look at you, and you could tell what was going to happen. You were surprised your dad didn’t do anything, but then you realized that it was because Bakugou hadn’t left yet. Once he leaves you stand up, heading to your room. Your parents stop you in your tracks, you already knowing what’s going to happen. 

“Listen I just need to sleep. I have school tomorrow and I don’t want to talk about this.”

“You are not going to bed until you tell us what the hell that was.” You turned around to see your stern dad with crossed arms and your mom back on the couch.

“It was nothing, guys, he just walked me home. We live really close so I visited his house for like, an hour. Why are you so worried about it?”

“It’s past dark out. You should be asleep by now. You’ve been spending way too much time-”

“I haven’t been doing anything, okay? I’m going to bed.” Your mother looks back, offended while your dad scoffs. 

“Give me your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“Your attitude. You’re being rude. Now give me your phone.”

“You realize I need this, right? You can’t just take it.”

“No, you don’t need it, and yes I can, now give it.” Your dad extends his arm out as you pull your phone out from your pocket, and quickly turn off the power so they don’t go through it.

You drop your phone into your fathers hand, then turning around and heading to your room. Your mom quickly raises her voice in an annoying, singy-songy tone that you hate.

“Goodnight~ I love you~!” With you not giving a return, she says it again, louder this time, just annoying you even more. You give an irritated reply, but keep walking. You can basically feel the vein in your head popping out as you walk up the stairs to your room. You plop on your bed, exhausted, almost forgetting that your torso was completely busted, but suddenly remembering by the sting that instantly hit you. You also forgot that you weren’t even wearing your own clothes. How come they didn’t notice? 

You fall asleep pretty fast after that, you just had to change into something more comfortable and brush your teeth and try not to cry from the pain. Every time you reassure yourself that it doesn’t hurt, the pain suddenly gets worse. You can’t get painkillers, your parents will ask you what’s wrong, and then you’d have to start a whole conversation about it. You didn’t want to go through that agony, so you put a smile on your face, and dealt with the pain.  

Even though your injury causes you to remain stiff in your bed, you try to relax your muscles and control your breathing, trying to concentrate on going to sleep. You were very tired, but at this point, didn’t expect it to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up to the sound of your alarm getting louder and louder, you not noticing it until five minutes after it went off. You purposely wake up before everyone, to try and avoid the chaos of your family. You get ready for the day, your usual routine, only a little slower with your stomach wounded, nagging at you. You steal a bottle of painkillers in a cabinet in your bathroom and put it in your school bag as carefully as you can without anybody hearing the pills rattle. This was a hard task, but you pulled it off almost effortlessly.

You close your front door, glad you only had an interaction with your mother once, as she just said good morning and have a good day. Once you close your front door, you put your key in your bag, taking the piece of bread you grabbed just before you left and placing in your mouth. Your hair is still a bit of a mess, although brushed thoroughly, you look up to see a blond figure standing lazily at your gate with his hands in his pockets and bag tossed carelessly over the shoulder.

“Bakugou-kun!” You smile and take a bite of your bread while skipping towards the gate, opening it. 

“Jesus christ. What was taking so long?” He still doesn’t look at you, but starts walking by your side.

“What do you mean? I got up early today…” You frown in disappointment, almost a sort of pout. 

“What do you mean, ‘what do you mean’? I texted you saying I was gonna walk you to school.” You look away from the soft features of his face to look at the ground. This caught his attention. 

Oh.

“Oi, what the hell. Talk to me. I don’t like it when people ignore me.” You look back up again with a smile (faked, again) and chuckle, pausing before finally replying. He is looking at you with a side eye, trying not to give away that he is, in fact, looking your way.

“My parents took my phone, sorry.” You shrug and put your hands ups in an ‘it’s out of my control’ type way. 

“What do you mean they took your phone away? Did you get in trouble?” Bakugou lifts an eyebrow and turns his head towards you, while you turn from smiling to him to staring at the ground.

“Eh, yeah, a little bit. It’s fine though it happens all the time.” With this response Bakugou’s eyes furrow and you look up at him, catching his gaze. Although you would’ve thought it would be a soft gaze, this one just looked like he was half mad half sorry for you. You didn’t care all that much, though. It was almost as if he was trying to look and find a lie. As if he were trying to find a slip in your code.

You throw a smile his way and chuckle a little bit, trying to distract him from trying to figure you all out, but he quickly responds with, “Why do you do that? The fake smile stuff? It’s annoying. I don’t know why you’re smiling when you obviously aren’t happy.”

This surprised you. Did you really think he was going along with it? Did you think you were fooling him? Your eyes widen with your mouth agape, in order to respond, but almost nothing comes out other than stutters. 

“I’m not faking anything,” you say in your defense although that was quickly shut down when you felt his hand tap your stomach. You groan in pain, gritting your teeth while putting your left hand to cover your stomach and your right to grab Bakugou’s arm. He stops walking for just a second for you to catch your breath, but then takes your arms, picking them up and setting them by your side once you are completely vertical.

“Yeah. Sure you are.  Now keep walking. I don’t want to be late.”

You turn your head sharply towards him, with a shocked expression on your face, you see him smirk a little. 

“‘I don’t wanna be late’? YOU LITERALLY HIT ME WHAT DO YOU MEAN?” You shove him to the side, almost in the road and his expression softens, giving you a sense of comfort, of protection. You didn’t know why, but it was nice having Bakugou be your friend. 

Was he your friend? 

Your eyes widen at the thought, a shocked look on your face, you try not to come to a complete stop at this question. 

Why did it matter? It’s not like he likes you anyways, you were jus-

“Oi.”

Distracted, you continue staring at the cement sidewalk beneath you as you walk, sudden insecurities and self-doubts coming to mind.

Out of nowhere you hear tiny bells ring and a tug- no- a sharp jerk at your arm. You were confused as hell and had no idea what just happened. Now all of a sudden you are almost on the road, right in front of Bakugou, with his hand gripping your arm and your chests almost touching. You look up at his irked expression, you could feel the vein on his head about to burst. 

“I told you to get out of the way. Why the hell didn’t you listen, dumbass!” Bakugou looks frustrated at you, like he was forced to do this. 

Was he?

You turn around to see a couple little kids on their tiny bikes, them zooming on the sidewalks, going on and off the road. They were all ringing these bells on their handles, as if it was their intention to wake everyone in the neighbourhood up.

“Huh?” 

“Are you dense? I told you multiple times to get out of the way, fucking listen to me next time, idiot!” He rips his hand away from you, pushing you back to your original spot on the pavement. 

“Oh. Sorry.” You understood why he was mad at you, and you weren’t upset about it, you were just a little frustrated with yourself not being able to identify the problem sooner. Your eyes waver around the sidewalk, awkwardly trying to find a place to rest.

Bakugou puts his hands back into his pockets, ‘tch’-ing as he walks at a faster pace. When his leg movements move out of sync with yours, you look up to see him walking a bit faster, as if to make you chase him. 

“What are you doing?”

“I said I didn’t want to be late, remember?”

TAGLIST [OPEN]: @jazzylove​, @bakug0ush0e​, @nataliahaslosthershit​

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[toomuchponytail]

Caretaker/reluctant caretaker having to force feed a whumpee pain or sleeping meds bc they're panicking too hard to listen to reason and/or keep refusing to take meds out of fear that its poison

Anon! Thank you for submitting this! I really like this one, (I actually think I’m going to do forced sleeping pills soonish in addition to this one because I liked it so much--you could say it is my jam this week, lol) I hope this is sort of what you were hoping for? 

Thank you for being awesome! 

I hope your day is hot sand and cool water, the duality of beach days, both the sand and the sandwich, hopefully not as one entity. 

I wish you the strength to get through the bad knowing that the good is on the way, waiting in the wings, and that your feet don’t burn with all the steps you’ve taken on this weary earth. 

But if they do I wish you lake water, deep and dark and refreshing. 

Take both care and smooth stones from all the beaches life gives you. 

Enjoy! :D 

Hero pulled into base as the sun crested over the city with all the enthusiasm of a convict returning to prison. 

He sat in the car as the engine cooled, scrubbing a trembling hand over his face, his eyes felt like they were full of sand, the muscles in his arms and shoulders burned fiercely when he shifted to open the door, he walked up the path to the door on legs that felt like rubber. 

As he fumbled briefly with his keys he began to fantasize about falling into bed and just sleeping for ten--maybe even twenty four hours, it would beat the hell out of what he was doing ever since super villain had resurfaced, catching sleep half hours at a time during the day, or while off watch at base. 

He’d actually managed to do something last night, catch a few of super villain's guys robbing the Gadinia st. bank, when he’d questioned them after stopping them one of them had actually given him a lead as to where super Villain’s base was. 

It was a win--one he’d follow up on after he’d gotten some sleep, he wasn’t much good to anyone like this, let alone the whole city. 

He set his keys on the counter, pouring himself a tall glass of water to try and cut the dust he felt in his throat. 

It was oddly peaceful in base today, the main room was actually completely empty in fact….Where was everyone else?! 

Hero jumped into high alert, glad he hadn’t taken off his cuffs when he’d entered like he normally did, he began to methodically sweep the building, room by room, clearing it in the unnatural silence. 

His mind, though sharpened by adrenaline was still in a buzz of exhaustion, it felt like his thoughts were traveling to him through a mesh sieve. 

Had his team told him that they were going to be somewhere else? He couldn’t remember that, but he wasn’t 100% sure either. As he cleared the last room he heard the door burst open, followed by the voices of his team, all of them talking at once in a wall of frantic sound that made him more nervous than he had been in the silence. 

He rushed to the mainroom hearing the sounds of desperate struggling, was one of them injured? What was going on?! 

“Where were you!?” One of the other heroes called to him accusingly when he rounded the corner, the other hero was helping leader, their sidekick, and two other heroes contain the heavily struggling antagonist who was bleeding badly from a wound somewhere in his side. 

The antagonist was panicking, trying to push the other off of him, there was an odd wild disconnected look in his eyes, they looked scared and lost, like a hunted animal. 

“I didn’t--My phone got smashed, what happened?” Hero stuttered, blinking as his team fought the antagonist into the room and laid him on the couch,  as soon as they tried to let go of him he tried to bolt, struggling to escape as if his life depended on it, only to collapse to the floor, not strong enough to get anywhere. 

Hero hadn’t seen the antagonist in more than a month, they’d been so preoccupied by super Villain that they hadn’t even checked up on their regular nemesis’s whereabouts. They could see that the last few weeks hadn’t been kind, they were much thinner than they had been the last time they’d seen them, their eyes were wild and shone with raw panic, they were mumbling half spoken pleas in a broken painful croak of a voice but they sounded resigned, like the mercy that they were begging for they didn’t expect. 

“Stop! No more, no more! Please!” They groaned, turning away as best they could. 

The other hero made eye contact with hero over the weakly struggling antagonist, “We don’t know,” they said grimly, “We found them collapsed in a dumpster, an informant called it in.” 

“Can you bring in some bandages hero?” Leader asked, they were trying to put pressure on the antagonist's wound, they pulled up the antagonist's shirt, trying to get a better look at what they were working with--what they saw made them gasp, all the sound in the room died, hands loosened their hold on the antagonist enough for them to pull away and curl in on themselves, pulling as far away from the heroes as they could with a choked groan. 

The antagonist’s torso and back were ripped to shreds, covered in raised angry welts and ragged edges of flesh that wept blood. 

They’d been whipped, burned, beaten, hero wasn’t sure what was worse, they swallowed hard to keep from being sick, leader had gone pale, they looked down at the blood on their hands, the antagonist writhed with agony behind them, seemingly in too much pain to stop moving. 

Other hero had stepped back when the wounds were revealed, “Who’d do something like that?” They whispered in horror, watching as the antagonist’s movements grew weaker, the shuddering more pronounced. 

“Super Villain would, if they wanted something from them,” Hero stated through clenched teeth, “We’ve got to do something!” 

“First we do this,” leader snapped, steeling themselves to the task at hand “Bandages, please.” 

Hero went to the medical cabinet, retrieved rolls of bandages, a bowl some warm water, a cloth, and a small bottle of strong pain relievers.

When Hero got back into the room leader had positioned other hero, their partner, and the others to what were hopefully less painful holds for the antagonist. They’d gotten their better holds on him, in his weakened state is wasn’t difficult to restrain him anyway. 

“Look around antagonist, it’s us, hero’s over there, you’re safe,” other hero tried to reassure, but the antagonist didn’t seem to hear them, they were still trying to pull away, babbling weakly in supplication. 

Other hero winced as they tried to hold the antagonist gently, they didn’t like thinking that in their struggle to control them they’d hurt them even more than they were hurt already. 

Hero handed the supplies to leader, who took them grimly, hero sat by the antagonist’s head, keeping them from whipping it from side to side like they had been, they smoothed the antagonist’s sweaty hair away from their face.

“N-no,” the antagonist groaned, when they felt leader gently grasp the bottom of their shirt, when the leader started to remove their shirt, unsticking it from their wounds the antagonist screamed, ragged and broken, hero winced, feeling a pang of guilt, he couldn’t help but feel responsible for this. He took two of the pills from the bottle and placed them in his palm, “Antagonist? Can you hear me? Hey, you in there?” he tried to keep his voice from shaking. 

“No, no please,” the antagonist choked out, “I don’t--can’t! Please! No more!” 

“We’re helping you okay? Can you take these for me?” Hero held the drugs up for the antagonist to hopefully see, but the antagonist didn’t seem to understand them. 

“Please,” they begged,“I can’t take it anymore.” 

Hero set his mouth grimly, taking the antagonist’s jaw in his hand he opened it gently, forcing the pills inside the antagonist's mouth despite the antagonist’s weak thrashing. Hero hoped that the antagonist wouldn’t choke, but they needed them to swallow those pills, they were delirious in their current state, too out of it to know that the heroes were helping them. 

The antagonist tired to spit out the medication, but hero clamped their hand over their mouth, they struggled violently for a moment, perhaps thinking they were being drugged by the people that hurt them, but they couldn’t keep it up for more than a few tense seconds, they didn’t have anything left. 

The antagonist swallowed the pills, sagging into themselves in both defeat and bone-deep exhaustion, when the leader started to gently wash their collection of wounds the intensity of the pain only helped to send them into unconsciousness. 

The antagonist passed out hurting and held down in a strange place by foreign hands that he didn’t have the strength to fight anymore. 

[moos-cow]

Gemini

Chapter 2

Chapter 1 | Chapter 1a | Chapter 1b | Chapter 1c | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

“Mmm,” Amaya roughly groaned from under a breath as her eyes slowly opened, blinking to clear the hazy vision around her. She tried to push herself up to sit, but the soreness in her arms made getting up too difficult. She fell back down on the cushions with a soft thud. 

Well, shit.

“Hey,” A gentle voice called as a hand rested on her shoulder. “Take it easy.”

She turned to the side to see the Jack of Spades seated beside her, free of his jacket and humongous sword. “Where… Where am I?” 

“You’re at the Black Army Headquarters.”

The what?

She tried to sit back up once again with a little help from Luka. The sudden movement caused her head to throb. She winced and pressed a hand against her temple, feeling a slight discomfort on the back of her hand-- an IV line was injected into her.

Her brows creased into a frown, trying to recall the earlier events, "What happened?" 

"You suddenly collapsed this morning."

This morni- Right. after that magic show with the Red Army at the Town Square.

“What time is it?” 

“Just past 1 in the morning.”

“God-” she was at a loss for words. She slowly looked around the dimly lit room. From the medical equipment visible, she could tell that she was at the infirmary. Aside from Luka, the Queen of Spades was also with them there, sound asleep on the sofa by the door with her olive jacket wrapped around his arm.

“Good. You’re up.” A familiar red-head marched in with a handful of supplies and set them down on the consultation table. The Seven of Hearts. He wasn’t wearing his red and white uniform tonight, just plain casual clothes.

Amaya's frown deepened as she glanced at Luka in confusion, and he replied in earnest, “He’s a doctor. Cradle’s best.”

“But he’s-”

“-A doctor, not a soldier.” Kyle cut her off, clearly uninterested in arguing with a new patient. Sirius had called him in earlier at the request of the Black Army doctor, who unfortunately, wasn’t as well versed as Kyle with the complications of natural magic in humans.

“So. How are you feeling?” the doctor asks, making his way to her side to do a routinary check of her vital signs and IV drops with a clipboard and pad in hand. 

“Fine, I guess. Exhausted. My head hurts.”

“That’s expected.” he brushed off while writing down notes on the pad.

“Expected?” she asks, watching his careful movements as he deftly pulled out the needle from her hand and immediately covered it with a small bandage.

"One of the side effects of using magic is fatigue. It can literally drain the life out of you if you’re not careful enough. Better remember that.” 

“Here.” Kyle handed her a small bottle of pills, a couple of sachets, and a prescription paper, "Get some rest, dissolve this in water for hydration, and take one pill as needed if your head gets in the way. Other than that, you’re good to go.”

“Thanks... doc.”

“‘Kyle’ will do. I’ll be at the pub if you’ll need me.” he waves off to both Luka and Amaya, closing the door behind him as he leaves the room.

She blankly stared at her hands for some time, inspecting as if it were something new. Pondering on Kyle’s statement, questions quickly filled her mind-- there was so much she didn't know, so much she didn't understand. She’d never been thrown into a situation as bad as this one. No resources. No intel. She was in one of the Headquarters, but she wasn’t sure if she was taken as a prisoner or not. She could ask, but--

"Hey," Her thoughts were broken as soon as Luka called her. "I’ll fix you up something to eat. Do you have any preferences?"

It took her a while before his words sunk and registered in her head. Not that she was expecting an interrogation now that she’s awake but--

"Oh no, don't bother." She slipped her legs out of the blanket, trying to keep the struggle of getting out of bed at the minimum "Please, you've already done more than enough."

A deep voice called out from across the room, startling her and stopping her in her tracks. "Better eat, little lady. You’ve been out the whole day."

Sirius got up from the sofa and collapsed, face down, on the bed next to hers. “I’ll have whatever she’s having.” 

She shrugged in defeat. There wasn’t any use in declining now. Aside from the three orders of iced coffee she drank throughout the day, she hadn't had much of a decent meal since breakfast. “Anything that isn’t spicy?”

Luka left with a nod, leaving her to the silence of the infirmary. 

She stood up from the bed and tried to walk around on her own-- gauging if she could make a run for it or not. Her legs slightly shook, and her knees felt like they'd unbuckle at a simple misstep. For the first time in a long time, walking felt like an absolute chore and her legs screamed a resounding no.

After a few laps around the room, Amaya crash-landed on the sofa just as Luka came in with some sandwiches and drinks on a tray. He looked at her with confused widened eyes, a striking golden-amber color just like Jonah’s.

“I can walk now,” she muttered and chuckled away at her own mischief.

Luka handed her a sandwich before turning to wake Sirius up from his slumber, alternating between shaking him on the shoulder and poking him on the face. As amusing as the scene was, it took a while before the Queen of Spades got up to join in their past-midnight snack.

“So what’s in this?” She turned to Luka and opened the sandwich just a bit to inspect.

“Try to make a wild guess, little lady,” Sirius spoke through bites.

One bite, and her face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. “Oh, this is good!” she covered her mouth with a free hand, speaking through a mouthful of food. “Okay. Let’s see… egg, mayonnaise, green onion, pickles, tomatoes, lettuce, and something I can’t put my finger on.”

“Mustard” Luka answered with a soft smile.

“Mustard? The yellow thing?” She tilted her head to the side, earning a questioning look from the two. “I’ve never eaten mustard before.”

“There’s always a first time for everything.” Sirius chuckled.

“Yeah, guess there is.” her smile unconsciously faded as she played with the sandwich in hand, pressing the edges together in a poor attempt to seal the bread. Her mind started to wander off again.

The weight of a hand fell on her shoulder. "Hey," Sirius called out, pulling her away from her thoughts "Don't worry. We'll make sure you find your way home."  

"Thanks." she forced back a smile as she took another bite of the sandwich. Maybe they weren’t so bad after all?

As initiated by Sirius, food became the sole topic of conversation during their small meal; from sharing their likes to dislikes, she learned that their food in Cradle wasn’t far off from what she had in the Land of Reason-- albeit mostly of western cuisine, she haphazardly made a light promise to share some of the recipes she knew from back home to the two.

Time passed by quicker than expected, and soon her watch started to sound. A soft beeping alarm, informing her of the new hour. “Ah, its 2 already.”

She tore open one of the sachets Kyle had given her earlier and dissolved its powdery contents into her glass of water before downing it in one go. Its faint apple scent contradicted its terrible gummy taste.

“Ah, have any of you seen my bag by any chance?” Onyx rapidly eyes scanned the infirmary just as they began to dish out the plates; she needed something to wash away the taste of the medicine, and her wafer what just what she had in mind. “I had it with me in the carriage this morning.”

“It’s in your room,” Luka replied, filling her glass with some water-- but that didn’t really help at all.

“My room? I have a room? Why do I have a room?”

“Save your questions for tomorrow, little lady. Now, you two go and rest. I’ll clean up here.” Sirius took the dishes from Luka and Amaya and practically shoved them out the infirmary.

Shoes and jacket in hand, Luka slowly paced beside her as he quietly walked her to her room. He asked her to leave it unlocked, just in case she collapsed again and needed to be reached immediately.

The room was beautifully simple, hotel-like to say the least. White and turquoise complemented the contemporary Victorian furnishings; fresh flowers in pretty vases were just by the window and center table; and, a complete set of toiletries were placed on the dresser next to the bathroom attached to the room.

Mouth stuffed with wafer, Amaya undressed and headed for the bathroom. The full body mirror inside immediately graced her with a full view of her slightly scathed body. Despite the sweetness in her mouth, her face contorted in disgust, eyes drawn to the area of her latest injuries-- two wounds to the left of her torso. Both patched with waterproof bandages.

How can you manage to take so many? 

A few minutes passed and the gentle scent of lavender filled the air; she took a long and relaxing dip in the warm water of the tub, relieving her body of the tension and fatigue endured from the long night before. 

She let out an exasperatedly long sigh as she sunk deeper. The night hadn’t ended how she expected it to end, and that confused her. She was thankful for their care, but a part of her-- that gut feeling called out to her.

What would they want in return?

30 days.

[brashierc]

Check the Crib

You sighed as you flopped on the couch, conveniently on the cushion Connor’s arm was slung over. He grinned, curling his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his body. 

“Hey Baby.” He whispered, planting a long smooch to your temple.

It’d been a long night. With Myles catching a cold from preschool and needing constant nose blowing help and wrangling him into taking cough medication, then to Bella having a total meltdown when it came to bed time, you were completely exhausted.

“Hey.” You sighed, curling into his warm body, nosing into his neck.

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ve just had this headache all day and her screaming for the past hour didn’t help.”

“Babe,” He whines, “You should have told me I would have given you Myles.” He groans.

You smile, kissing his warm skin quickly before resting your head on his shoulder and staring at the TV screen that was showing the basketball game highlights.

“Hold on.” He hums, kissing your pouting lips before jumping up and rushing to the kitchen.

You pull the blanket that’s folded on the end of the couch over to your lap, unfolding it and rolling yourself into it. Connor returns minutes later carrying a glass of water in his right hand, a glass of wine in his left, theres a beer bottle tucked between his ribs and his elbow and you can hear a rattle of something from the pocket of his basketball shorts.

His smile lights up his whole face when you perk up at the sight of him, leaning forward. He sets the glasses on the coffee table in front of you, grabbing his beer before he drops it and setting that down too. You watch as he sits next to you again, pulling your headache medicine bottle from the pocket of his shorts. He shakes out two pills and hands them to you, pushing the glass of water towards you. 

“You didn’t have to get me these Babe, I was about to.” 

“I got it, you handled Bella all on your own the least I can do it take care of you. It’s kind of my job as your husband.” 

You blush at his words, shaking your head before taking your meds. You set your glass of water back down and reach for the wine before he stops you.

“Ah ah ah.” He swats playfully at your hand. “Drink all of your water Miss.” 

You giggle but play along, “But I don’t want to!” 

He smiles, picking up your glass and holding it out to you. “You can have your wine once you finish your water.” 

“That’s all I get? Is wine?” 

“And I’ll give you a kiss.” 

“Deal!” 

He laughs as he watches you chug the water making a show of slamming the glass down and turning to him with puckered lips.

“Holy fuck I love you.” He giggles before giving your very much deserved kiss.

“Thanks I love you too.” You respond once he’s pulled away. “Can I have my wine now?” 

“You can have anything you want.” He mutters, grabbing his beer as you grab your wine before settling you back into his chest as he focuses on the the TV again.

It’s been exactly 20 minutes since you sat down when you hear Bella crying. You whine, turning into Connor’s shoulder. “I was really hoping she’d be down for awhile.” 

“I got her.” He hums, patting your shoulder so he could get up.

“But I’m on Bella duty.” You protest.

It wasn’t a lie that you and Connor are trying the whole tag team with the kids. Now that you have two your on man to man defense, and if you didn’t play that way it could get chaotic and stressful.

“It’s okay Baby, I got her.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Totally.” He nods, setting his beer down and standing up to climb the stairs.

“I’m so going to blow you tonight.” You muttered as he walked away. He looked back over his shoulder, eyes significantly darker. 

“Fuck I love being married.” He whispered to himself as he climbed the stairs closer to the blood curdling screams. “Bella,” He sighed as he opened the door. “Girly, you making your Mama crazy.” 

She calmed a little at his voice but still whimpered as she stood in her crib, tears clinging to her long lashes. 

“Honey you need to go nigh nigh,” He whispered. “That’s why you’re crying, because you’re tired.” He reached down and laid her back down in her crib but she started screaming again. “Babygirl,” He shushed her. “Isabella you need to breathe.” 

Connor looked around, and then shook the corner of her crib to test how sturdy it was. Seemingly satisfied with how it didn’t budge he did the only thing he could think to do. He swung a leg over the rail of the crib and climbed in. He scooted to the side and laid on his back while Bella climbed up on his chest.

“Is that what you wanted?” He asked when she instantly stopped crying. “You just wanted cuddles from Daddy?” 

She whimpered and clutched his shirt but her eyes fluttered closed while she took a few deep breaths.

Connor stayed and rubbed her back, looking up at the ceiling. Before he knew it his eyes were feeling droopy and he let them shut and sleep pull him to his dreamland.

**

You roused from your tiny nap when the news flashed with a weather report. You sat up disoriented, looking around and squinting to read the time on the bottom right hand corner of the TV. How was it 11:57pm already? 

You leaned for the remote to turn the TV down when you noticed Connor’s full beer still sitting on the coffee table. Standing up you peeked into his office down the hall and saw the lights were off and he wasn’t there. 

“Connor?” You whispered, shutting the TV off completely, heading off to search for him.

You start climbing the stairs slowly, sleep still aching your joints.

You look down the hall where Bella’s room was open. You tip toe closer and peek inside not seeing him in the rocking chair. You shut the door behind you and continue your search coming up short in Myles room, the laundry room, and your bedroom. You dial his number after you’ve checked the entire house and come up empty.

You can hear his ‘Friends’ theme song ringer going off and you start walking closer down the hall as it gets louder. Your brows furrow as you open Bella’s room again, taking a step in this time and finding the most soft thing in the world.

There passed out holding his daughter on his chest was Connor David Brashier in Isabella’s crib. You snicker lightly as you take a picture and then quickly put your phone away to wake him.

You nudge his arm, trying your hardest not to scare him since he was holding Bella. You caress his cheek, smiling when his eyes flutter open.

“Hi Baby.” He smiles, face all sleepy swollen. 

You coo, “Hi Hon.” You whisper.

“Whatcha doing?” He mumbles.

“Honey,” You rub your thumb on his cheek. “Don’t freak out.” 

“Okiii” He smiles.

“You fell asleep, and you’re holding Bella.” 

At this his eyes widen, finally becoming totally aware that he wasn’t dreaming. His head whips up as he looks to his chest where Bella is asleep. “Oh my god.” He whisper cries. “I can’t believe I fell asleep!” He looks to you with horror in his eyes. “I could have rolled on her!” 

“You didn’t.” You shake your head, still rubbing his cheek. 

“Oh my-”

“Shh, lets get you out of there and off to bed Sleepy Boy.” 

He slowly shifts Bella onto the mattress and carefully climbs out of the crib. You take his hand leading him to your bedroom to get ready for bed. When you step into the bathroom you hear him exit the room for a moment. When you start pulling the covers on the bed back he reenters. 

“Where’d you go?” 

“Double checking the house was locked.” He hums, sliding past you to check and make sure both baby monitors for Myles and Bella were on. Once he’s checked everything and plugged his phone in he sheds his jeans and t shirt and climbs into bed after you. 

“You’re an amazing father.” You rub his back as he tries to get comfortable. 

“Yeah?” He asks softly.

“The absolute best, I think I completely melted when I found you with her.” 

He grins when he feels your arms snake around his torso. He grabs your hand, pulling you closer so your flush against his back. When he feels your bare chest to his bare back his eyes pop open. 

“Are you topless right now?” 

“Yeah, are you ready to go to sleep or did you want to....” 

He rolls over in an instant, rolling you under him so he’s hovering over you. 

“Fuck I love you.” He grins, leaning down to kiss your neck. 

This time around, you two weren’t interrupted when you needed a moment with each other.

[yesloverboy]

Touch Me (MGK x Reader)

Requested: Anon!

“Would you do a mgk one shot where him and the reader go to a big rave festival, like edc or something, and they're on x and it is just amazing them? Like their so into everything around and each other? Maybe a lil smut”

Note: I’ve only been to a rave once so this may have been a bit of a stretch, but oh my god did I love writing this. I also (do)n’t recommend that you use illegal substances. 

word count: 2,278

[Warnings: 18+ for smut, voyeurism, swearing, and drug use.]

permanent tags: @colsonbakersnoseringmain, @lululovesgwtw, @kingbouji3

 “Colson, I’m bored,” you whine, body reclining in a heap of pillows and blankets on the hotel bed. Your boyfriend is seated at the desk across the room, furiously scribbling away at his journal. You know interrupting him at a time like this is rude, but part of you doesn’t really care anymore. Hours had passed since Colson has spoken to you, and you’re starting to become impatient.

 You had been on tour with Colson for weeks, and he’s barely had the time to even look at you, let alone enjoy your company. Now the band is in Las Vegas of all places, and all Colson wants to do is keep working. You had always admired Colson’s work ethic, but he has a tendency to work himself to the brink of collapse. Even though you want your boyfriend to give you attention, you also know that if he doesn’t take a break soon he’ll be close to burning out.

 “Colson, please,” you try again, desperate to break through your boyfriend’s creative trance.

 Colson eventually sighs and turns to look at you, slamming his notebook shut. “What is it, Y/N?” he sounds exhausted, and you know that being cooped up in a hotel room isn’t making it any better. Colson is the kind of person who feeds off of other people’s energy, and yours alone isn’t going to cut it.

 “Can we please go out and do something?” you ask, careful to keep your voice delicate, “We’re in Las Vegas for god’s sake. You deserve a little break.”

 Rubbing his face, Colson gets up and sits at the end of the bed, shoulders slumped forward. You crawl over to meet him, snaking your arms around his back and onto his broad chest. Pulling him tightly against you, you place a gentle kiss on the side of his neck, hoping the small gesture is enough to ease his nerves.

 “You know we can’t go anywhere right now,” Colson murmurs, a large hand linking comfortably around your wrist to hold you in place, “Everyone will recognize us.”  

 As much as you hate to admit it, he has a point. Humming thoughtfully, you think back to when you and the band first rolled into town on the tour bus. The flashing neon signs had advertised everything from magic shows to strip teases, but one event stuck out in your mind among the rest.

 “What about EDC?” you find yourself asking, not quite realizing that you’re thinking out loud.

 “That rave thing?” Colson asks incredulously, twisting from your grip to look at you. “Is that this week?”

 “According to the flashing neon signs all along the strip, yeah I’m pretty sure it is,” you look at Colson expectantly, feeling that deep down he’s probably going to say no. Sure, you and your boyfriend are known partiers, but ravers are a whole different story.

 Much to your surprise, Colson doesn’t say no right away. Instead, he lifts his eyes to meet yours, raising an eyebrow as if to say; Go on, convince me.

 “Well, if you think about it a rave is kind of perfect,” you explain, “we can enter through the VIP section and by the time we slip into the crowd, no one will recognize us.”

 “We don’t have anything to wear,” Colson argues, a smirk beginning to form on his face.

 You roll your eyes, “Oh my god, Colson. Where is your sense of imagination?” 

...

 After about an hour of rummaging through yours and Colson’s suitcases, you were finally able to pull together some impromptu rave outfits from your boyfriend’s stage wear. There honestly wasn’t much in the both of your luggage that was rave appropriate, but, from what you could see online, it seems that the less clothes the better. For some reason, the idea of dressing up and pretending to be someone else excites you. Colson, on the other hand, doesn’t seem as thrilled.

 “Baby, aren’t you worried that people won’t know that you’re mine?” Colson complains, trying to mask the concern in his voice as he begrudgingly allows you to smear some of your body glitter on his neck and shoulders.

 Using your glitter coated hands, you grab the sides of Colson’s face and pull yourself up on the tips of your toes. Placing a soft kiss to his lips, you face the worry in Colson’s eyes.

 “Nope,” you reply, “I’ll be with you the whole time, silly.”

 Colson sighs, “But you look so good like that.” Your boyfriend gestures to your body with a tattooed hand, making your cheeks turn pink.

 Considering the fact that you and Colson weren’t prepared for a rave, you had decided to dress up your old bikini with one of your boyfriend’s long, Off-White belts and a pair of platform sneakers. It’s nothing spectacular, but you’re definitely showing off way more skin than you’re used to.

 “Oh whatever,” you giggle, “by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be looking even better.”

 You dig through your suitcase and pull out a large, shredded cropped t-shirt and hand it to your boyfriend. It’s a shirt that you usually wear to bed, but you figure it’s something no one would ever expect Colson to wear.

 “What the hell is this?” he asks.  “Gotta cover that MGK back tattoo somehow,” you smirk, delighted at the opportunity to force Colson into a crop top.

 Rolling his eyes, Colson tugs the shirt over his head, the ripped hem only reaching to the middle of his torso. You can feel your mouth fall open as you watch the thin fabric cling to your boyfriend’s chest, accentuating every ripple of muscle perfectly.

 “I look ridiculous,” Colson complains as he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the bathroom mirror, “Worst of all, I still look like me.”

 “Not for long,” you say, dangling a bandana in front of his face. You had snagged a few from one of Colson’s merch guys at the beginning of the tour, and now is the perfect time to put one to good use.

 You help Colson tie the bandana around his neck so that he can pull it up over his nose and mouth later. Sure, a few dedicated fans still might recognize the two of you, but under the flashing lights you were almost positive that you would have no problems blending in.

 With an excited grin you squeeze Colson’s hand, “Ready?”

...

 As you and Colson approach the VIP entrance, you can feel your stomach bubbling up with excitement at the sight of laser lights flashing in the distance. The far off roar of the crowd gets your heart pumping as you step forward, the gentle hum of the bass buzzing beneath your feet. You are just about to pull Colson through the gate when he grips your arm firmly, bringing you to a full stop.  

 “Hey baby, gimme just a second, okay? I’ll be right back,” Colson says, ducking away and jogging back towards the parking lot.

 Confused, you lean against the fence by the entrance and decide not to question Colson’s motives. More than likely he was probably going somewhere quiet to give his daughter a quick, goodnight phone call. The image brings a smile to your face as you think about how big your boyfriend’s heart is. Colson would bend over backwards for the people he loves, and you felt so lucky that you got to be one of them.

 After a few more moments of being lost in thought, you catch sight of Colson returning with a huge smile plastered across his face.

 “Where’d you run off to?” you ask.

 Colson reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a small plastic bag with four little blue pills inside.

 “I figured if we’re going to go to a rave, we might as well do it right,” Colson replies, shaking the bag in front of you triumphantly.

 You bounce on your heels excitedly, and give your boyfriend a peck on the cheek. Of all the things you and Colson had done together, ecstasy had somehow flown under your radar.

 “Want one, baby?” Colson asks sweetly, leaning in until he’s inches away from your face. You nod back vigorously, wanting more than anything to get the night started properly.

 “Then come get it,” he grins, popping one of the blue pills into his open mouth.

 Using the bandana around Colson’s neck for leverage, you pull your boyfriend down to your level and connect your mouth with his. Colson pulls you flush against him, not caring about the crowd of people inevitably watching from afar, fingers digging possessively into the small of your back. Gripping your jaw roughly with a single hand, he dispenses the pill into your open mouth with the tip of his tongue.

 Pulling away from Colson, you swallow the pill. He tries to lean in for another kiss, but you step just out of his reach. As breathless as Colson’s touch makes you feel, you know it’ll be even better after the ecstasy takes effect.

 “Easy there, rockstar,” you coo, tugging Colson’s arm in the direction of the VIP gate, “let’s get this party started.”

...

 As it turns out, the flashing lights and distance music at the gate are nothing compared to what it’s like amongst the crowd. You and Colson had rushed past the VIP pool parties and roped off bottle service sections in favor of the pulsing, sweating mass of people at the center stage. Colson allows you to pull him along, his bandana secured firmly over the lower half of his face.

 Of all the concerts and music festivals you had been to, you had never been able to feel the music radiating through your body quite like it is right now. As soon as you find that the two of you are sufficiently lost in a sea of strangers, you can feel Colson’s long arms weave around your abdomen, pulling you closer. You grind your hips against his, allowing your body to move in tandem with the rhythm of the music.

 You grin as Colson’s hands wander up your body, lingering over every curve. Usually you wouldn’t be okay with this much public affection, but under the kaleidoscope of neon light and sound, nothing seems to matter. Everywhere you look, people are melting into one another, and you find yourself wondering how something so public could be this intimate.  

 As your hips gyrate to the beat, you realize it’s nearly impossible to know how much time is passing. Your heart pounds erratically in your chest and, suddenly, it feels as though Colson’s touch isn’t enough. Despite the amount of people around, you are desperate to have him closer.

 Turning to face your boyfriend, you wrap your arms around his neck, leaving your face just inches away from his. Colson grabs your ass, sharply pulling you so that your legs are woven between his. Teasingly, you roll your body, riding against his upper thigh. As his grasp on you tightens, you decide to lick a stripe on the part of the bandana where his mouth should be. To your satisfaction, you can feel his length harden in the leg of his jeans.

 You try to look up at Colson innocently, but something in his eyes has darkened beyond the point of return. With one arm still firmly holding you in place, Colson slowly runs a free hand down your exposed stomach. Your breath hitches as one of his fingers plays with the waist of your bikini line. Pleading with your eyes, you try your best to protest against his touch but the contact feels far too good for you to care.

 Colson’s hand slowly sinks past your waistband, palming your heat possessively. His fingers rub against you teasingly, careful to avoid making contact with your clit. The ecstasy pumping through your veins makes every touch better than the last, and you know that if Colson could hear you, you’d already be a begging mess.

 As if he can read you mind, Colson slips a finger inside of you. Your nails dig into Colson’s shoulders as you rock against his touch. All of the blood in your body is singing as it flows through you, and you feel more physically connected to Colson now than ever. You moan as your boyfriend inserts another finger, but the sound is lost amongst the crowd as it continues to envelop the both of you.

 With shaky hands, you lift Colson’s bandana enough to connect your mouth to his, the movement of his hand getting more frantic as you breathe into him. You can feel your orgasm building with the increasing tempo of the music, the added vibration stimulating your body in ways you didn’t think possible.

 It only takes one final curl of Colson’s fingers before you’re clenching around him, your orgasm overtaking you in waves of burning hot pleasure. Using both hands to support your trembling body, Colson kisses you deeply. The sensation isn’t as intense, but it brings you and your hazy thoughts back down to earth.

 Even though you can still feel the music vibrating within your chest, you can almost swear that yours and Colson’s hearts are humming to the same rhythm. You continue to move and sway against him, not willing to let go just yet. Colson seems to share your feelings and leans into your embrace. You smile contentedly as he begins to pepper gentle kisses along your neck and jawline, his touch is as gentle as the beat of butterfly wings.

 It might be the drugs talking, but you can definitely envision yourself doing this again. Very, very soon.

Masterlist

[wannawrite]

honeysuckle

who?: Wanna One’s Ha Sungwoon genre: 🌺🌸 type: scenario word count: 2.5K TW: OD, vomiting, pills

blog navigator.

sungwoon adores flowers to death 

isn’t love supposed to taste like honey after all? 

hanahaki! AU

I miss sungwoon so much. Good news: HIATUS OVER

- admin l

disclaimer: pictures used do not belong to me and credit goes to their original owners 

everything that is written here is purely fictional 

DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERING

~

The sweetness on the very tip of his tongue poisoned like a scorpion’s sting. It lingered on his taste buds, the sense of longing, yearn.

He stuck out his tongue and gently plucked the flower off, allowing it to scatter out the window. At the same time, Sungwoon took a glance outside, witnessing a gust of wind blow the flowers in circles.

Then, a bout of sweetness crashed into his being, snaking up his throat and into his mouth. His lungs heaved, coughing out parasitic flowers.

He had always been a flowers kind of boy.

But not like this.

By now, he didn’t care to dispose of them immediately, the sheer amount was too much to keep taking out regularly. Sungwoon let the flowers float across his room.

Thankfully, the medicine was taking effect and most of the flowers had been expelled from his body. His lungs no longer felt the pain of growth. The suffocating feeling of being filled from the inside out usually threatened his ribcage to burst. It was a miracle that the physical pain was gone.

Now, all that was left to do was tackle the root of the problem - the feelings in his heart.

~

“Sungwoon! Hello! Wow, I feel like I haven’t heard your voice in forever! I’m finally back in Seoul!” you shrieked excitedly on the phone with your best friend. Spending nearly a week on a church retreat to some remote island was exhausting yet uplifting. Still, you couldn’t wait to return to the busyness of city life. “How about we catch up at our favourite pancake cafe? I could use a stack of great honey pancakes right now,” you suggested hopefully, planning to bribe Sungwoon with his favourite treats. At the same time, you manoeuvred your luggage into your home. Sungwoon’s cheery voice was all you needed to cure your jet lag and boredom. His voice could make the moon sparkle and serenade the sun to sleep. “Remember that cute church choir guy I was telling you about?” you chirped. “There’s so much I want to tell you!” Sungwoon coughed, quite violently. Worry began to sink into your bones. “S-“ “I’m fine!” he replied, almost in a false cheery tone. “J-just caught the flu or something. I-I’ll see a doctor soon.” “Oh,” you mumbled fretfully. “Are you well enough to meet today? Maybe I should just come over-“ “No, no!” He cut off abruptly before coughing again. “See you later, bye.” Confused, you put down the phone, mind troubled. Then, you looked at your luggage. Well, at least unpacking would serve as a good distraction. It’ll be futile to get so worked up over nothing. Sungwoon would be fine. He always would be. ~ 

Ignoring the prescription on the lucid orange bottle, Sungwoon flicked the cap off and downed the few remaining pills in one gulp.

Screw one pill twice a day. Unrequited love suppressants don’t have time for that.

There was no time to ponder about side effects. No room in his mind to consider the consequences. He just had to hide this...disease, that was all that mattered.

Sungwoon knew that it was you he loved and truthfully, he would confess if this issue had not popped up. It meant that your heart was already taken by someone else.

He just couldn’t bear the burden of placing you in a tough position, especially if the reason was his feelings.

Best friend - who you’ve never felt romantically attracted to - or your crush - the person of your dreams?

Yeah, there was no debate about it.

Sungwoon’s heart began to squeeze but he paid it no mind. The all-familiar discomfort of tips of petals stabbing into his sides set it. He scooped yet another bloomed cherry blossom off his tongue.

None of the pain mattered as long as no one discovered his secret.

Most importantly, you.

~

Sungwoon was already seated at a window booth when you arrived. The familiar and comforting face sent warmth flooding through you. You were ecstatic to see your best friend again.

He stood up and reached for a quick embrace which was happily returned.

“You look well-rested after your retreat,” Sungwoon commented, noticing the halo of a glow that surrounded you.

“It was...enlightening. I had a lot of fun and it was nice to travel with my parents again,” you filled him in. “I did miss you, the city and everything else though.”

A small smile crept onto his lips, it was sweet like honey and playful like bees. “You missed me?”

“Ugh, stop it. Of course, I missed my best friend and I missed everyone in Seoul.”

Thankfully, two plates of steaming pancake towers arrived, each boasting three fluffy hotcakes stacked on top of each other. As usual, Sungwoon’s had the classic maple syrup and a cube of butter on the top.

You ate in silence for a few minutes, savouring each dense bite of pancake, soaking up the atmosphere of being in your favourite place, eating your favourite food, with your favourite human being.

The most trustable, honest and kindest friend you had to date.

“I’ve got to tell you! Remember Issac, the...choir guy?” you spilled to Sungwoon, who offered a nod in reply.

Issac was attractive, no doubt, but you weren’t sure if you were ready for a relationship or anything. He may not even be interested. You just had to consult your best friend.

“So you’re dating him now?” Sungwoon stabbed a square of pancake a little too aggressively.

Frantically, you shook your head. “No, no! I don’t know if I’m ready to invest myself in a relationship, especially when we only met over this retreat.”

Your declaration made Sungwoon breathe a little easier but he still felt uncomfortable. Little pinpricks began to jab his torso, from the inside.

He sighed, “You’ll know when your heart’s ready. And I’ll always support you. Don’t worry so much about this, there are still opportunities...enough for you to keep your options open.” Sungwoon let out a couple of coughs before dropping the topic.

Suddenly, the air seemed heavy, questions hung over your head like a rain cloud. Something seemed off.  Was it discomfort? The vibes in the area seemed thrown off course.

Then, Sungwoon smiled and asked about the details of your vacation as a whole, and you found yourself in the warmth of sunshine and security again. Relaxed and cool, at ease.

After brunch - which Sungwoon insisted on treating, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to window shop or grab a coffee from a nearby cafe.

“If you’re up for it. I don’t want to overwork you when you’re sick,” you stated with concern.

Sungwoon ran quick calculations in his head, estimating the effects of the pills and how long they would last before the next dose. He needed to pop by the pharmacy to get a new bottle.

He felt like the pills would sustain him. Gut feeling.

That is the reason Sungwoon agreed and found himself in the line for a popular pop-up coffee booth.

He did feel better. Listening to your voice, seeing your bubbly smile brighten your face, hearing giggles escape your lips...made him happy.

A sudden pang of pain hit his chest but he willfully ignored it, hands balled into fists in an attempt to control his reaction.

No one must know.

“Two iced Americanos please and one with a shot of chocolate,” Sungwoon ordered. He had all the favourites memorised.

It kind of made you swoon.

“Thank you,” you beamed, practically glowing with delight. “There’s a reason you’re my best friend.”

Sungwoon’s smile was tight-lipped and seemed forced but he was quick to diffuse it. He handed you your cup and clinked it with his.

The pain was nearly unbearable, it attacked from all sides. Nausea washed over him like a tsunami wave, shaking his tall pillars of determination.

No. Not like this.

“Excuse me for a minute,” he uttered as loudly as he could, ducking behind the shop and into a less crowded alley. Stunned, you caught his coffee before it could spill.

“O-okay.”

Cherry blossom after cherry blossom spewed out from his mouth, the flow was uncontrollable, unstoppable. Sungwoon retched out honey-sweet pink petals until he was dry-heaving, head spinning and body quaking. He brushed away mini stray petals that stuck to the sides of his lips, shaking them off in distaste.

With trembling hands, he Googled side effects of the pills. That seemed like a good idea.

Dosage: More than three pills can be taken under severe circumstances. This would purge the lungs of all flowers, new flower growth, stems and roots. Warning: should only be taken in situations when the hanahaki disease could cause fatal respiratory malfunction and under 24-hour supervision of medical professionals

Side Effects: - will cause sharp, intense and prolonged pain - will cause frequent regurgitation to expel waste matter from the body - in serious cases, patients may lose consciousness due to severe pain and discomfort

No. No. No.

“Sungwoon? Oh my god!” You rushed over to your friend who was unsteadily bent over, practically hurling his lungs out. His phone was carelessly tossed to one side.

Sucking in a deep breath to calm your nerves, you tried to assist him in sticking to rhythmic breathing.

Which was of...little use?

There was no stopping these pesky rosy flowers.

Cautiously, you picked a clean, fresh cherry blossom from the floor, from the pile of ‘barf’.

H-hanahaki?

“I-I-I was going to tell you...” Sungwoon choked out, now leaning against a wall, unable to move. “I-I r-really was...”

He heaved out another clump of flowers and watched as one got caught up in the passing winds, danced in front of his eyes before being swept to your distressed face, then the sole flower was blown away into...oblivion.

I like you.

~

The cold, stiff plastic chair dug into your back and thighs as you sat waiting, anxiously waiting for Sungwoon to regain consciousness.

“You idiot,” you whispered, tears threatening to slip down your face. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Now, all you could do was sit and hold his hand, waiting.

The doctors had to clear the remaining chunks of flowers, stems and ‘unearthed’ roots from his lungs. They had been choking him. Sungwoon had overdosed on the pills without any professional medical attention, it could have ended fatally.

At least, all he would sustain was minor bruising and soreness around his chest.

Finally, after hours of prodding, Sungwoon finally awoke. His eyes widened when they fell on you.

And at that moment, you couldn’t stop your tears from flowing.

“Who hurt you, Sungwoon? Who?” you cried. “Tell me and I’ll go sort it out for you! You don’t have to take these pills anymore!”

His mouth was pressed into a thin line, gaze wavering, uncertain.

You exhaled shakily like all the oxygen had been knocked out of your lungs. It hurt, it genuinely did.

“W-why did you do it? W-were y-you afraid that I would find out?”

A long pause filled the space. It was longer than necessary, too hesitant for comfort, a foreign feeling since you and Sungwoon rarely withheld details.

“Yes.”

Short, one-worded, affirmative answer.

Sungwoon tried to shrug and remain nonchalant about the situation. “Yes, I was scared that you would find out that I liked you, more than just a friend.”

Confession.

He let out a short sigh of pure relief and gladness, getting those off his chest was easier said than done but so worth it. Sungwoon felt much more carefree than burdened.

Still, he hoped it had not damaged the good relations.

A billion thoughts were racing through your head, crashing into each other when your brain failed to comprehend them individually. The information was being tossed at your form, compacted into one spaceship hurtling into the planet of you. A fresh batch of tears began pouring from your eyes.

“You could’ve told me! You didn’t have to hurt yourself like this! You’re my best friend Sungwoon. I can’t bear to see you get hurt!”

I know. I never wanted to hurt you either. All these flowers would ever do is to be a burden to you.

~

Walking next to Sungwoon...as a date was so much different from linking arms as best friends. You were much more self-aware, self-conscious of the smallest actions.

Since that whole incident last week, both of you had gone home and immersed yourselves in deep reflection, especially of your feelings.

Sungwoon’s hanahaki did not improve or worsen.

Finally, you decided to call him and give this ‘dating’ thing a shot. Both of you were single and you found Sungwoon the most amazing person in the world.

Maybe there was more to just admiration and platonic love. It never pained to discover.

The date was wholesome though it started off rather awkward and tense. Unfamiliar.

However, after an hour, all the uneasiness fizzled away and you were reminded who you were with, your best friend - possibly more than that.

You wished the date didn’t have to end so soon as the taxi rolled closer to your home. How would it end? Did all dates end with a kiss?

Colour filled your face at the thought.

“Thanks for,,, today,” Sungwoon concluded, blushing. He cleared his throat. “It’s late, you should get some rest.”

The taxi pulled to a gentle halt.

“Uh, I’ll walk you to your apartment.”

A smile made its way to your face at his words, you ducked out of the taxi before Sungwoon could notice your glee. He talked to the driver then hopped out of the vehicle.

“Today was really fun. I enjoyed myself,” you began, a hint of playfulness in your tone. “Let’s do it again sometime!”

Sungwoon’s cheeks reddened, almost with a rosy glow. He slowly slipped his hand into yours and clutched it tight. The feeling was foreign yet welcomed.

“Sure.”

You practically skipped up the remaining flights of stairs, too impatient and excited to remain still in an elevator, much less wait for one. Sungwoon was mercilessly dragged along, he laughed.

At last, the door came into sight, causing, a tinge of disappointment in the smiles.

“I-I’ll head in first...”

You fumbled with the locks and keys, trying to delay the entirety of ‘goodbye’.

Sungwoon bit his lips and swallowed hard before asking, “Can I kiss you goodnight?”

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, rocking back and forth, shuffling in his spot anxiously. 

Your hands froze in their spot, no, your whole body froze, unsure of how to respond.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god!

Sensing the sudden reaction and change of mood, he slowly backed away, embarrassed. “I-I...goodnight. I’ll see you soon.”

In a flash, you tossed your keys aside. “Hey! Sungwoon!”

He spun on his heel, looking surprised. “Yeah?”

“Kiss me.”

It was his turn to freeze up. You chuckled at his expression. Then, his shock morphed into a delightful smirk. His arms didn’t hesitate to circle around you, his eyes fluttered shut and then he pressed his lips onto yours.

Closing your eyes, you gladly melted into the kiss, allowing the world around you to melt away. The kiss was passionate, soft and promising, like the perfect blend of milk and honey. 

A new, fresh feeling began to bloom in Sungwoon’s chest.

[feverish-and-delirious]

Sorry For Being Right

@thatsgottahurt asked: a prompt for bmc: maybe jeremy stats getting weird headaches after drinking some mountain dew and michael is the only one who knows what’s really going on and the only one who can help??

Word count: 1.2K

3 months after the whole SQUIP incident, things were back to normal. But at the same time, they were totally different. Michael and Jeremy are still best friends, something that Jeremy is more than grateful for. But now, everyone who had a SQUIP then is hanging out together. Rich, Jake, Christine, Chloe, Brooke, Jenna, and Jeremy (plus Michael, of course) all formed the, “SQUIP squad,” as they liked to call it.

Jeremy and Michael were on their way to the cafeteria, when Jeremy came to a stop in front of a vending machine. He smirked when he saw normal Mountain Dew; something his dad had prevented him from drinking after the incident, or he knows it as “a deadly allergy to green Mountain Dew.”

“Jeremy,” Michael said in a warning tone, “I know that look. You can’t have green Mountain Dew anymore. I have some red in my backpack, if you want.” Michael took out a bottle of Mountain Dew Red, but Jeremy was already holding up a bottle of Mountain Dew green.

“Jeremy!” Michael shouted in a scolding tone. “You can’t drink that! It’ll activate your Squip!”

Jeremy shrugged. “Come on, Michael! That Squip thing happened, like, a year ago. It’s not gonna hurt me,” Jeremy tried to reassure Michael.

“It was only three months ago…” Michael mumbled, but Jeremy didn’t hear him. Or if he did, he just ignored him.

They sat down with “the Squip squad”. Michael made sure he kept a close eye on Jeremy as he drank from the green bottle. Concern swelled deep inside of him, despite Jeremy showing no signs of Squip reactivation. Would it take a while to take action? Or maybe Jeremy was right? Maybe it’s been long enough, and the Squip is permanently deactivated. He hoped Jeremy was right.

Lunch continued as normal for a little bit. “Normal,” being absolutely abnormal, but that was normal, at least for them. But Michael certainly didn’t miss how quiet Jeremy was.

Now that he looked closely, he looked exhausted. His skin was paler than it should’ve been, and his head was in his hands. Michael put a hand gently on his shoulder, hoping for some sort of reaction from the shorter boy. When the only reaction he received was a sob, he realized the worst had happened.

“Jeremy,” Michael whispered, concern evident in his tone, “are you okay?”

Jeremy turned his head towards Michael, but still rested it in his hands. Tears stained his cheeks. “My head hurts..” He whined. Michael bit his lower lip.

“Is he okay?” Michael heard Christine ask from the other side of Jeremy.

“He said he’d be okay if he drank Mountain Dew green,” Michael told her. Jeremy let out another sob, this one louder than the last. Michael pulled him into a hug, allowing Jeremy to rest his head on his soft jacket.

“I-I think you were right, Michael…’bout the Mountain Dew…” Jeremy whimpered. Michael ran his fingers through Jeremy’s hair, hoping to ease the pain at least a little bit.

“I know I was right,” Michael whispered softly. “I wish I wasn’t.”

Michael turned to Christine. “Can you get a Mountain Dew Red out of my backpack?” Michael asked. “He only drank a little less than half of the green. I don’t think we need a hospital trip for that, but the nurse would be helpful.”

Christine nodded, and handed Michael a bottle of the drink.

“Hey, Jeremy,” Michael spoke softly so he didn’t aggravate the headache.  “I need you to drink this, okay? It’s Mountain Dew Red.”

Jeremy turned his head so his mouth was accessible. Michael unscrewed the cap and put the bottle to Jeremy’s mouth, assisting the boy in drinking it. He made sure he drank at least half, so in total he consumed more red than green. When Michael pulled the bottle away, Jeremy buried his face in Michael’s jacket again.

“Jer, come on, we should take you to the nurse.”

Jeremy groaned, whether from the headache or the thought of moving, Michael wasn’t sure. Jeremy was stubborn, but nobody was as stubborn as Michael.

“If you aren’t going to comply, I’m going to carry you, and we’ll go straight home.”

Michael felt bad for using a scolding tone while Jeremy was in pain, but he didn’t have much of a choice. If Jeremy was in so much agony that he couldn’t even move with the help of Michael, they shouldn’t even bother with the nurse.

When Jeremy still didn’t move, Michael sighed and stood up slowly, and brought Jeremy closer to his embrace. He knew he couldn’t carry the boy...but letting him support all his weight on himself would hopefully help.

Michael ignored any and all stares he received from students who thought it was weird to see a teen leaning on another teen while walking slowly, the latter wearing two backpacks. Jeremy was his top priority, not how he looked in front of others.

Finally, after what felt like forever, they made it to Michael’s PT Cruiser. Michael carefully helped Jeremy climb into the passenger seat, and watched as the boy reflexively curled up in a ball, tucking his head between his legs and torso. Michael felt bad for smiling, since he knew he was in pain, but he couldn’t help it. He just looked so cute.

Michael knew the way to Jeremy’s house by heart. He’s been there so many times, it’s like his second home. He also knew that it was winter, and that the road was more than likely covered in potholes. Every time the car would go over over one of them, no matter how small, Jeremy would moan in pain. The small noises hurt Michael more than any physical hit could. The drive to Jeremy’s house felt longer than the walk to the car. Whether it was or not, Michael wasn’t sure, but he was so relieved when they finally made it.

“Is your dad home?” Michael asked softly. Jeremy shook his head lightly.

“For the day, or longer?”

“Longer..”

Michael nodded, although Jeremy wasn’t looking, so he was unable to see. He exited the car, and went around to the other side to help Jeremy out as well. Jeremy gave Michael his key, and they went inside.

“Wanna go to your bed, or the couch?” Michael asked. He knew Jeremy would prefer the bed, but whether he was up to walking up the stairs was the question Michael was looking for an answer for.

“Couch is fine,” Jeremy said quietly. Michael brought Jeremy to the couch and made sure he was as comfortable as possible, wrapping him in about five blankets and giving him several pillows.

“Do you think Tylenol would help with this?” Michael asked. Jeremy shrugged in response.

“Surely it couldn’t hurt,” Michael said to himself. He grabbed the bottle from the cabinet and dumped two pills in his hand. He grabbed another Mountain Dew Red from his backpack and brought the items to Jeremy.

“Here, even if it doesn’t help, it shouldn’t hurt,” Michael said, watching Jeremy put both pills in his mouth and then helping him with the drink.

“Thanks,” Jeremy mumbled. Michael noticed his eyes beginning to blink shut.

“If you’re tired, you can sleep,” Michael stated. Jeremy nodded and allowed his eyes to shut fully. Michael smiled and watched him fall asleep, soft snores coming from his slightly opened mouth. He was just too cute.