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theonewiththefanfics · 7 months

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A Life Worth Living (one-shot)

Synopsis: As sickness creeps closer in taking her life, Y/N has come to make her final amends. Though the Astarion she fell for no longer exists, even the cold clutch of absolute power can't match true love.

This is sort of an AU! because in truth, Ascended Astarion would not give a single shit if you've left him at this point, sorry :D I just had to get this out of my head

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x fem!Reader; Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: talks of sickness (not specified), dying, death, swearing etc. Minimally edited :)

Word count: 5115

The day was much like any other in Baldur’s Gate – sunny without even a single wispy cloud in the sky, yet the Ancunin palace rose above all the rest like a beast in the night, drowning the houses in menacing shadows.

Matches, Y/N thought, to the person living inside.

Wrought iron gate surrounded the grounds, thorny rose vines looping through, while beautiful blooms opened towards the slowly moving star above.

This could’ve been her home, had she not said no. She shuddered to think what her life would’ve been like.

That had been almost five years ago. So much had changed during that time. It didn’t even feel like just half a decade had passed, it felt more like a century since Y/N had left Astarion. But she couldn’t stay with him. Not after he’d Ascended, completing the ritual he’d killed Cazador for, and became what he had always hated – a version of Cazador himself.

Her hand had barely touched the handle of the gates before it swung open on its own accord. Y/N shouldn’t be surprised by it, not with how much magic she’d seen and experienced during her travels, but still, such small things made their impact. Whether it was an invitation inside, or a trap only time would tell.

She didn’t have much of it, which is why she was there in the first place. Had that cursed sickness not been slowly taking over her body, eating away at it, cell by cell, Y/N would have dragged this final meeting with Astarion as far in the future as she could, but there were still friends she wanted to visit, places to see, no matter how limited her life had become.

With thinly veiled amazement, because she didn’t want to marvel at what surely was slave work, she walked down the gravel path towards the large double doors of the mansion, looking at the meticulously groomed gardens. Not even a single leaf was out of place. A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. Where once she would’ve believed Astarion to be the one to care for these plants, now Y/N knew in her heart, he’d never stoop so low as to even get on one knee to prune a rose. Such a thing was below him nowadays. Let alone sleeping next to her on a bedroll.

When she stood face to face with the large carved oak doors, her heart picked up its rhythm. She couldn’t help it, as years of memories, of love won and lost, rushed through her mind. Slowly, she raised her hand to knock.

It took about half a minute for the doors to open, an unfamiliar face staring back at her.

A vampire spawn, eyes red and glowing, looking at her with a cocked head.

“Can I help you?” he asked, giving her an appraising glance.

Y/N let out a breath. “I’m here to see Astarion.”

“Master Ancunin is not taking any visitors. Not without a previous notice,” he said it almost with a sneer, but she just gave him a smile.

“Tell him an old friend has stopped by. From the times before.”

The vampire looked ready to scoff and throw the door closed in her face, but stopped as he was closing it, a recollection of something flashing across his features. Whether he recognised her as a hero of Baldur’s Gate, or maybe he recognised her from a story Astarion might’ve told didn’t matter, because whatever it was, hopefully would grant her this one meeting.

With that though, Y/N was left to wait outside, pretty much twiddling her thumbs. Astarion probably wouldn’t take it too kindly if she went and took a bloom, though it used to be something he did for her. He used to do so much for her…

About five minutes later, the same spawn appeared, opening the door and motioning for her to enter.

“Master Ancunin will be with you shortly.”

And once again, she was left awing at the hallway, this time completely alone. She guessed no one saw her as a threat, despite the fact she had felled many enemies, including the Absolute. But oh well. At least she didn’t have to awkwardly stand with a guard or something, trying to figure out what small talk to fill the silence with. This gave her a chance to have a look at her surroundings.

A grand staircase, looping up to both sides, stood in front of her, while the palace spiralled away to the right and left. The entrance itself was almost like a ballroom, and she was sure, Astarion had at least one, if not more. What would those look like? What would a ball itself in the Ancunin residence look like? Would there be dancing and singing? Would people be laughing?

She couldn’t imagine it. Not with how he had degraded her after Ascending, telling her to kneel, telling her he’d turn her into a spawn, not because he wanted to spend the rest of their eternities together, but because of the control he now wished to exert over her.

A vision of herself, a blood-red gown, her eyes matching the velvet he’d no doubt dress her in, flashed across her mind. And a beautiful pearl necklace cinched tightly, two large bite marks across the slant of the skin. A collar disguised as gems to tether her to him. One large gilded cage to keep her in.

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t my darling, crawling back home.”

Astarion stood at the top of the staircase landing, bringing Y/N out of her pondering.

He was a vision, as he always had been, but now, were vulnerability and love had shone in his eyes, only wry amusement and cruelty were left in their place.

His steps echoed across the empty house as he made his way down, not taking his gaze away from her. Y/N could imagine how she looked to him – covered in dirt and dust from weeks of traveling, eyes hollowed by dark circles and hair a complete mess, skin cracked around her lips, its colour dull. Compared to his meticulously coifed locks, the intricate frock and trousers, and even his gem-covered boots, she was a disaster.

Despite the pain in her heart, Y/N managed a smile. “You look good, Astarion.”

He scoffed, coming to stand before her. “Of course, I look good. I always did. You just didn’t appreciate it. Have you come back to beg? I do like a bit of grovelling. Though after what you did, there might be more you have to do than just plead for me to take you back.”

She chuckled, shaking her head and looped her arm through his elbow, undoubtedly surprising him, as she took charge and led them to the left, no idea where the hallway was going to bring her to, otherwise she might start crying. “Tell me everything Astarion. I want to know how you’ve faired these past five years.”

Her nonchalance, her whole attitude had completely stunned him, something Y/N didn’t think she was capable of, but maybe it was good. Without having knocked him off balance a bit, he might’ve just turned her away, but she needed this conversation. This closure before the sickness took her.

Together they walked inside what turned out to be a dining room. Did he even need one? He didn’t eat human food, even though he was Ascended now, and could enjoy the tastes.

“I have to say,” he started, “I did not expect to see you again.”

Y/N sighed, looking at the paintings hung along the walls, at the gleaming chandeliers above. “Believe me, I did not expect to come either.”

“Then why are you here? If not to apologise for what you did, why bother wasting my time?”

The words stung, but she wasn’t going to tell him the real reason. It wouldn’t matter to him anyway. He told her he wished she died screaming, and though that might still be a possibility, it was more likely she would simply go to sleep one night and never wake up. “Because, although I do not believe I have anything to apologise for, I did wish to make amends. Life for us mortals, is so short… and the thought of living the rest of mine, without at least having tried, seemed… wrong.”

Astarion scoffed, but she could feel him tightening his elbow, as if he didn’t want her hand to slip from the crook it rested in. “I will not apologise for my decisions.”

“I am not asking you to,” Y/N said. “I simply wish for us to become friends once more. If only for the sake of sentimentality.”

“Sentiment,” Astarion sneered. “But what else can I expect from such a creature as a human.”

Y/N let out an amused huff, pressing down the real impact it left on her heart. He knew right where to cut, because when they’d been together during the tadpole adventure, she’d laid her soul bare to him. Told him all about her fears and hopes, how much of a hopeless romantic she was, so now, to tell her it was foolish to try and rekindle if only a friendship, was stupid… but she hadn’t expected more from this version of Astarion.

He’d already given much more time than she’d expected. Half of her had thought when the spawn would tell him who was at the door, he would take the chance and fulfil his words by killing her himself.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely. It’s what she’d told him when she’d tried to talk him out of the ritual. How he would be condemning seven thousand other lives. But he hadn’t cared. Astarion had believed he deserved the power, deserved to complete what Cazador couldn’t. Y/N couldn’t stand by and watch, nor would her conscience allow her to be by his side.

And so she’d left. Because there was nothing left of the man she’d fallen in love with. For these five years after, she’d avoided Baldur’s Gate, hearing from whispers and gossip how he’d risen in the ranks of politics and society, how brutal he could be to his servants and those who stood in his way, almost reminding her of when he’d talked about his Magistrate days, only amped to a hundred. A new, sickening Cazador at the helm.

“But how have you been, darling?” Astarion almost sounded bored as they moved into what passed for a living room in this palace, Y/N assumed. “What shenanigans have you caused?”

And so she told him. As a servant spawn brought a tea-set laying out two cups, though Astarion didn’t even pick his up, Y/N recounted how she’d gone all across the Sword Coast, had travelled over the seas and seen knew lands. How she’d done the things he’d promised they would do together.

“Sounds rather… dull,” he commented, lounging on the seat. “But I suppose to such simple minds and hearts as yours, it’s all very exciting and enthralling.”

She wanted to snap at him, remind how half of the ideas she’d completed, had been his, but instead, Y/N just took a deep breath. “Have you finally gotten everything you wanted, Astarion?” she asked instead. “Are you finally happy?”

That had been the true question plaguing her mind these past years.

He turned to look at her, eyes blazing. “I have power, status, people bow to my every whim. What more could I possibly want?”

“Then I’m happy for you,” she said, setting down her half-drunk tea. “Even if it means nothing to you anymore, I am happy you’ve finally gotten what you wished.”

An awkward silence settled between the two, and Y/N took it as her cue to wrap things up. “I best take my leave.”

“And where will you possibly go?” he sneered, but stood up alongside her, making their way back to the grand oak doors.

“Karlach and I are meeting up at a local tavern. And then we’re all going to the get together at Wyll’s. You would know that, had you come to the party Wither’s invited us all to.”

“And waste my time?” he scoffed. “No thanks. This conversation has done enough of that.”

By now they were at the doors, and Y/N turned around, taking in her final fill of the vampire. No doubt this would be the last time she ever saw him. “I hope you have a good life, Astarion. You deserve it. Despite how things went down between us, I do wish all the best for you.”

Slowly, she leaned up and pressed a kiss against his cheek. It was cold, but not as cold as she had been used to. No doubt he used every opportunity to lazy out in the sun, or feed on someone.

Just as she was about to exit, he grabbed her by the wrist, his hold tight and not something she’d be able to break out of.

Astarion’s scarlet eyes narrowed in on her, pulling her closer to him.

Y/N’s heart spiked. Was he really still that hurt, he would finally cash in on that revenge? She knew she would never be able to hurt him. No matter what, that romantic heart of hers would betray her.

He snapped her to his chest, her breath hitching in her lungs, as he leaned down by her neck and inhaled. Her frame was ramrod straight, not daring to move a muscle. When he finally moved back, anger and something else raged in his eyes. Was it… fear?

“Now, my dear, tell me the real reason you came here.”

“I -,”

“And don’t lie,” he hissed. “Because I can smell it on you. In your blood.”

“Smell what?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Death.” And Y/N had to be hallucinating, because she was sure she heard his voice crack. “Sickness and death runs through your veins. It’s – it’s like acid.”

“What’s it matter, Astarion? What would any of it change?”

“It would chan-,” but he stopped himself.

Y/N leaned a bit closer, her Y/E/C eyes narrowed, trying to decipher what she was seeing on that stony face, but pulled back, shaking her head. “Maybe you will finally get your wish and I will die screaming.”

By the look on his face, she understood Astarion did not appreciate the comment. “You dare enter my home, under the pretences of lies and deceit,” but his vile words didn’t match what she could see brewing underneath – despair. If only she was still naïve enough to believe he felt anything else but contempt for her. “I deserve to know the truth.”

“But you do know it.” Y/N shrugged. “So I’m going to ask you once again – what does the knowledge that I am dying, change? I would still die someday. Whether it is in a week or in half a century, I would still die. What’s it matter?”

“Had you not been stupid, and accepted my offer of becoming a spawn, you wouldn’t be in this mess,” Astarion spit, but didn’t release his grip.

“I did not come here to ask you to change me.” She placed her hand against where his heart should be beating, yet everything was still under her fingers. “I am not afraid of death. I am not happy its coming for me so quickly, but I would rather have my life end now, than live as a spawn.”

Hurt crossed his face. “Would living with me really be so repulsive to you?”

“Living as your slave would.” Y/N lifted her chin. “We would not be equals. You would never see me as the person I am, but rather as a thing to own. And I, for one, thought you would be the first person to understand why I would never choose such an option.”

This was not how she wanted them to part, but it seemed like it would once again leave them as enemies.

She pulled away from Astarion, and this time he let her.

“I hope one day you do understand my choices. Because as much as I disagree with yours, I have always accepted and understood them. Live Astarion, if only for yourself.”

Sunlight greeted her, as she opened the door, but she didn’t manage to put a single foot outside, when the vampire grabbed her by the nape of the neck, pulling her back in and slamming the door shut.

“I am sorry my dear, but that simply won’t do.”

Fear didn’t even get a chance to rush through her veins when everything went black.

It was a while before Y/N finally came to, but when she did, she was laid on a plush bed, body covered in a duvet, head resting against the softest pillow in the universe, and the sky outside was the violet of the setting day.

Horror struck her as her memories came to her – of Astarion pressing his palm against her nose and mouth, preventing her from breathing. Of how unconsciousness took over, while his red eyes glared at her fading form. But worse – the conversation they’d had right before that, about refusing to become a spawn.

Did he really hate her that much, he’d turn her against her will?

But instead of Astarion sitting in the room she found…

“Gale?” Y/N’s brow furrowed as she raised herself to her forearms on the mattress. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, you’re awake.” The wizard stood with a smile, walking to sit beside her. “How are you feeling?” He pressed a palm against her forehead, checking the temperature, and hummed when he deemed it to be normal.

“Fine,” she mumbled. “But again – what are you doing here?”

“Astarion called.”

“Astarion?” Y/N was befuddled. She would’ve assumed Gale would be the last person ever he would contact, well, last except for her. Especially if he’d turned her into a spawn. No doubt would their friends come to battle if they heard such a thing. And yet Gale seemed perfectly content in the vampire’s castle.

“He sent such a panicked message, I portaled here as quickly as the Weave would allow and-,”

Gale was stopped mid-sentence as the door clicked open.

But the man standing in the doorway wasn’t the Astarion she’d known before, the man she had fallen head over heels in love with, or even the Ascended Astarion she’d spoken to that day. No. This Astarion had eyes as bright green as freshly grown grass, cheeks red and full of life and the blunt incisors of a human, hope and shame shining in his irises.

She whipped her head to Gale. “What in the name of all the Hells did you two do?”

“We saved your life,” the now ex-vampire entered the room, his movements slow as if Y/N was a deer he would startle if he did anything quicker than the pace of a snail. “And I paid the price for it.”

She swallowed hard. “And what exactly was the price?”

“My immortality.”

Now, Y/N assumed she’d been cured as she was inclined to believe not only because of Astarion’s transformation, but because Gale so meticulously was counting her breaths and heartbeat, but that confession almost did take her out, the shock of it all.

She threw a wary glance at the wizard. “So – so I’m not a spawn?”

“No,” Astarion shook his head. “But I don’t blame you for believing I would do such a… vile thing.”

Heavy silence settled in the room when she finally turned to look at him. “But I thought you had everything you ever wanted.”

“I did so too,” he nodded. “But when I smelled it, that – that sickness in your blood… I guess it is true what they say – love is the most powerful magic of all. Because the thought of you dying – it did something to my head… my heart. I could not let that happen.”

Y/N surveyed him, the new person standing before her. “You gave up everything for me. All the power… everything…”

“I won’t lie – I almost gave into the temptation, I almost did bite you. But these past five years were… miserable. And the thought of living the rest of eternity with the knowledge you hated me before you died… it wasn’t something I could do. Even with all the power in the world, the one weakness I have never been able to rid myself of is you.”

Neither noticed Gale clear his throat and motion towards the door, and neither noticed how it shut behind the wizard, leaving them on their own.

She watched as Astarion crossed the room, and sat himself down at the very foot of the bed, eyes locked onto the fingers in his lap. He was still as graceful as ever, but no longer was there this predatory supernatural sense to it. Now he was more a ballet dancer, than a stalking panther.

“So what happens now?”

“Now,” he sighed. “Now I don’t know. I didn’t really think further than Gale performing the ritual and hoping it would be enough.”

“Am I… immortal now?”

“No,” Astarion shook his head, and his smile was so warm, it almost knocked her back down to the bed. “You’re as human, as human can be. Only healthy now. Hopefully with many a decade before you yet to be lived.”

“And you?” she had to address the elephant in the room. “What exactly are you now?”

“I,” he sighed and looked at the wall. No, not the wall, but a large mirror, his eyes boring into the ones of his reflection. “I am what I was before Cazador. As common as a high elf can be.”

“I just don’t understand,” Y/N said. “I don’t get why you would do such a thing. Seven thousand spawn died for you to gain all that power, for you to prove you could complete what Cazador couldn’t. How could you just throw it all away?”

Astarion sighed, standing up and moving to the other side of the room where a large open door stood, leading out to a balcony. He leaned against the railing, and Y/N finally got out of the bed.

She could feel the strength having returned to her muscles. No longer did they ache, no longer did her bones scream, no longer did she feel tired and weak. A new zeal of life had filled her, and she couldn’t get why Astarion had given it all up for her to – what? Live maybe just a couple of more decades?

Together they leaned on the marble railing, overlooking the lush gardens, the flowers now a duller colour, but still as beautiful in moonlight, as they were in the sun.

“For five years I imagined what I would do if you showed up on my doorstep,” Astarion started. “There were times I imagined taking you and putting you in chains, dragging you to a dungeon and inflicting unspeakable pain, because that’s how it felt when you left. I wanted to do nothing but hurt you. And then I imagined how you would have come to your senses, how you would come and beg me to turn you into a spawn, finally realising your place was always beside me.”

He looked at her. “But then you did turn up. And all I could do was barely hold it together and not kiss you then and there. When you said you were dying, but that it would be a better life than with me, something… something cracked. Whether it was my sense coming back to me, the part of my brain that made good decisions being released from a prison of power, I don’t know.” Astarion chuckled. “But the only thing running through my head was – the one person that has always loved you selflessly, is dying. And you’re a pathetic coward that can’t do anything to stop it.”

“When Gale told me there was a way to heal you, but it would cost me, somehow I didn’t even pause to think. I just told him to do it. If the price for you being able to live a fulfilled life was having my power, my immortality stripped away, he could’ve for all I cared, spilled all my blood and let me bleed dry. As long as it meant you were here – living and breathing.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what you would’ve done. And I couldn’t be bested by a dying woman. Would turn you into a full martyr, and I couldn’t have someone outshining me like that.”

Y/N wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, letting out a choked back laugh. “What was the ritual?”

“Apparently Gale had been looking at certain transfers of power for a while.” Astarion shrugged. “When I contacted him, I didn’t even have anything specific in mind, I just knew he would probably be the best at figuring out what, if anything, could be done. Of course, had the answer been negative, it would not have ended well for our dear wizard, but you understand my point.”

“Well, I am glad Gale is still in one piece.” Y/N looked at him as she slowly covered his palm with hers. Astarion’s breath hitched, when she intertwined their fingers. “And I am grateful to the both of you for what you did. But I will forever be in debted to you.”

“No,” Astarion shook his head, tightening his hold, as if terrified she’d slip away like sand. “There is no debt to be repaid. Actually, I think I should be the one thanking you. For showing up. For even thinking I was worth enough to say goodbye to, but I have to ask… Were you ever going to tell? Had I not smelled it on you, would you have ever told anyone? Because when I told Gale, he was so stunned, I almost thought he would join you and pass out.”

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “By the time I decided I had to see you at least once more before I… well, you know… I’d already met all of our friends individually. I had thought of asking Shadowheart if there was a spell maybe, but ultimately, no.”

“Why would you keep something like that to yourself?”

“I didn’t feel like burdening the others.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We’ve all gone through so much darkness, have so much else to worry about, I didn’t want to add more to that.”

“Surely you know those idiots would ride blindfolded into battle for you.”

“I do. But it’s not like I would want that. Besides… if those were to be my last days, I wanted them to be filled with joy and fun things. Not with Halsin worrying if such excitement was healthy for me, or Lae’Zel scolding me for certain decisions. And let’s not even mention Karlach who’d cross the world searching for a cure that might not even exist.”

“And you left me for last…”

Y/N bit down hard on her lip. “Because it took everything in me to get over the hurt. Get over what you did and said. Because I was terrified you would slam the door in my face if I showed up.”

A tear rolled down his own cheek, as he bit the inside of it. “A fair assumption. And maybe if you’d come earlier, I would have. But… deep down I knew, I would have done everything to try and make you stay. Even through the haze of that power… my heart has always been yours. And still is. If you will have it.”

The words coming out of her mouth hurt, but they had to be said, despite how ardently she wished to say yes and return to how things were. But she knew she couldn’t neither of them could. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Astarion.” She could see him visibly shrink down, tears now unabated as they flowed like rivers from his eye. He wanted to pull away, but she didn’t let him, holding onto his hand tighter, running a soothing thumb over his hand, so warm and alive under her touch, it made her sigh.

“You’ve just regained yourself.” Y/N tried to give what was an endearing smile, but was probably more a grimace. “You’ve just become an elf again… there is so much you need to grasp and realise… I don’t think a relationship is what would be good right now.”

Two green eyes met her Y/E/C ones. Gods, the colour was so gorgeous, she felt like drowning in his gaze. “The only thing I was ever sure of in my life was you. Even as an Ascended bastard. And then I blew it. Absolutely smashed my chance to pieces like an idiot, but… if you’ll allow it. I would like another try. If only at being someone worthy to stand by your side.”

Y/N felt her lips quirk up. “Would it be overtly presumptuous of me to think, that by the end of it, you would wish to be more than friends?”

“If I am only allowed to be your friends, I will fall to my knees before you and beg for the chance. But no longer will I lie and say my true intentions aren’t to hopefully, one day, get on one knee, and wish for a shared life.”

She had not seen such a version of Astarion, so candid and vulnerable, since leaving him. And for him to be so open, made some resolve in her melt a bit. “We can try. Slowly.”

It was like a boulder had rolled off Astarion’s chest, his whole body visibly shuddering in relief, before he tentatively, as if waiting for her rejection, weaved a hand around her waist.

She rested her head against his shoulder, revelling in the feeling of him pressing his cheek to the top of it. And when he tilted her chin up, a hopeful gaze in his eyes as it slipped to her lips, she didn’t stop him when he pressed his mouth to hers.

It was like surfacing for a breath after years of being pulled down in an abyss, something Y/N never thought she’d be able to do again. And that kiss – it was filled with so much love, she didn’t need oxygen to breathe.

There was still a world of hurt between then, a universe of making up to be done, but they had time. They had all the time they wanted or could need.

“To a new start, my love.” She muttered against his lips, and the smile Astarion gave her was more brilliant than the moon and stars shining in the sky combined.

“And to a life worth living.”

The next kiss they shared sure as hells was.

Tags:

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird @omggiannarosa @poisonquinzell @iffazu @alisoncdariel

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: My tags are always open

Please don't repost onto other platforms! That is called plaigarism :)

I also had an idea of writing this from Astarion's POV, so if that is something of interest, do let me know :)

467 notes · View notes

darkbluekies · 7 months

Note

Hey if you don't mind me asking, what are you working on rn?

Why don't i show a few of them? :)

Autocorrect will stand for the weird things I will hopefully take care of when editing

dbs SS Normandie (project name) — all 5, male detective reader [releases 11th may]

“What are you going to do now?” you spit, cocking your head to the side. “Throw me overboard?”

“Not exactly”, Silas says, smiling menacingly.

“Not yet, at least”, Jerry says, grinning.

“If I don't meet my contact in New York, people will know that something has happened to me”, you say coldly. “They'll hunt you down.”

“Oh, will they now? I didn't realize that we had stolen their golden boy.” Silas's cruel smile widens. “Well, Golden Boy, plans seem to have changed.”

You glare at him in confusion. Silas pets your head twice and you hiss at the painful touch. Whatever they hit you with, it must have caused a gigantic bruise.

“Seems like we have to keep you for a while”, he says.

You glare at him.

“Do you really think ropes will stop me?” you ask. “I'll be out of here in no time.”

“I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free.”

(Have two smaller parts because the other teasers became longer)

Before pulling you up on your feet, she unties them. You stumble, almost falling on Jerry.

“Watch it, big boy”, she warns you. “If you knock me down I’m kicking you between your legs.”

“If you hadn’t tied my feet, I would actually have blood in them. I can’t feel them.”

She unties your hands. You make your way into the bathroom and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Hedwig had wiped away some of the blood, but there were still traces of it in your scalp. You sigh heavily. What should you do? Finally, your hands and feet are free, but you aren’t yet. And — after a quick look around — there’s no way out. The only way out is through the door which Jerry is guarding.

You could perhaps get out by defeating Jerry, but you have something against fighting women. But, then again, she had knocked you with — what you guess was — a glass bottle. You look around for something that can help you and lay your eyes on a metal bar over the bathtub, used to pull one up. Without a second thought and will all your might, you rip it off. You give it a few squeezes, feeling if it could be strong enough to be used as a weapon and trying to find a comfortable, yet strong, grip.

You open the door quickly and swing the metal bar towards Jerry. She tries to grab it out of your hands but you push her off and knock her to the ground with the bar. You're not sure how hard you are hitting her, but it's enough force to keep her down. Quickly, you make your way past her and storm out of the cabin, almost crashing into the opposite wall in the corridor. You look around quickly, trying to think of where to go. After what Silas said, that he has more men than just his second in command lurking around, you're not sure who you can be seen by.

Foreign queen (project name) — Edmund, female reader

You sit down on the bed with your head in your lap, waiting for something to happen. The castle makes sounds, as if it is trying to communicate … and for the moment it is the closest thing to comprehensible you can hear.

The door unlock again and you look up from your hands, only to be met by the king. He closes the door behind him. You freeze. He lets his eyes wander over you with a small smile.

“Beautiful”, he says.

“What do you want?” you whisper.

“You have a beautiful voice when you don’t yell or cry. Shame I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

He moves over to the bed, standing in front of you. You look up at him. He moves his hand slowly towards your face to move a piece of your hair out of your eyes. You sit frozen under his touch, too scared to move. The man points to himself.

“Edmund”, he says.

You recognise a name when you hear it.

“Edmund?” you whisper hesitantly.

He smiles and nods. Your accent makes his name feel new, personalized. It’s your name for him.

“Yes, Edmund, that’s right”, he says and points at you. “You?”

“Y/N …”, you whisper.

Edmund stands still for a moment before his smile widens. Hearing your name makes him feel euphoric.

“Y/N”, he says, tasting your name on his tongue. “Y/N.”

Edmund smiles.

Sick (project name) — hedwig, gender neutral reader

The chauffeur helps you up the stairs as you enter the georgian mansion. Your legs give up halfway and you almost crash into the stairs. The chauffeur grabs you quickly.

“Sorry”, you whisper.

“Don’t be”, he says.

He leaves you on Hedwig’s bed and asks if there is something he can get you. You shake your head. Even if you did need something, you still feel weird asking random people to get it for you. the few times you’ve done that, you’ve offered to pay but they’ve always turned it down. You’re not Hedwig, you aren’t used to having a dozen people do things for you. You have your own two hands and legs and are fully capable of doing things yourself.

“Should I get you some medicine?” the chauffeur asks. “I’m sure miss Hedwig would like it if I do.”

You give up, your head aching too much to discuss what you do or don’t need. You agree to him buying the medicine. As soon as he leaves, you change into your pajamas and tuck yourself in, hugging Hedwig’s teddy bear. Just as you’re about to fall asleep, there's a faint knock on the door. You pry your eyes open slightly to see the chef sneak in.

“What should I do for you?” he asks.

“Hedwig recommended soup”, you mumble.

“In that case I will make soup.”

He disappears again. You fall asleep within minutes and doesn’t notice when the chef comes in with steaming carrot soup, or when the chauffeur comes with the medicine. You first wake up when Hedwig leaves kisses over your face.

“I’m sorry for waking you, sweetheart”, she whispers apologetically, caressing your face. “But I got worried. You haven’t touched the soup or the medicine at all.” She feels your forehead softly. “Have you taken your temperature yet?”

“I have been sleeping”, you explain and cough loudly.

Hedwig furrows her brows worriedly and helps you sit up. She smiles as she sees you hugging her teddy. You cough again and she caresses your hair, looking as worried as if you'd have cut your arm off.

Like father, like son — Edmund + his son Ludwig, female reader

Edmund returns a few days later when everyone is asleep. Ludwig meets him in the hall and fixes his hair quickly.

“Welcome back, father”, he says.

“Has everything gone smoothly?” Edmund asks nonchalantly. “Has my wife done anything she shouldn’t?”

“She hasn’t!”

Edmund smiles. “That’s my girl. Well, where is she? Is she sleeping?”

“I believe so, father. She has been feeling a little … down … so …”

Edmund twirls around and gives him a stern gaze.

“What?” he asks coldly.

“I haven’t let her out of her room since the day you left. She has been forced to rest.”

Edmund practically runs to your shared chamber, wanting to get to you as quick as possible. He opens the door to find you sleeping in the bed. He sinks down on his knees in front of you and brushes the hair out of your face. You open your eyes slowly and he smiles.

“Hi, my jewel”, he whispers lovingly. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Edmund”, you gasp, somehow happy that he’s back, that you don’t have to deal with Ludwig anymore.

He hugs you and brings your face into his neck. His arms sneak around your waist.

“Ludwig has been telling me that you’ve been feeling a little down”, he whispered into your hair. “What happened, my dear?”

“Nothing”, you replied. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. Tell me.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere fics #yandere stories #yandere king #yandere doctor #yandere female #yandere rich girl #male reader #female reader #yandere teaser

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nwjws · 10 months

Text

who the hell is ni-ki ?! - FIFTEEN

; SYNOPSIS - school sucks. especially when everyone’s avoiding you like the plague - all because you’re the principal’s daughter. so it comes as a surprise when a strip of paper falls out of your locker one day, with a corny pick up line written on it. now you only have one question on your mind: who the hell is nishimura riki?

FIFTEEN ...let me hold them for you 🫶 (2.1k words + smau)

"one more! one more!" danielle cheered as you aimed another dart at a balloon pinned on the board.

you held your breath as you watched the dart fly through the air, spinning as it zoomed closer and closer to what would hopefully be your fifth balloon popped this round.

the game, named 'pop the balloon', was what you were currently playing at the gyeoul carnival. the idea was that if you had five darts, and you had to hit a balloon with each one. unless you missed, you would then be rewarded with a prize of your choice - like a box of chocolates or small plushies.

minji, hanni, and danielle burst into cheers and jumped as they hugged you when your final dart popped the last balloon. you had won the game, and now you could choose a prize.

"take that box of chocolate," minji pointed at one of the options. "i really want the fererro rocher."

"am i choosing, or are you?" you arched an eyebrow at her.

"i'm just giving advice," she shrugged.

"that doesn't sound like good advice," hanni nudged her. "choose what you want, y/n."

"okay," and you reached for a plush duck hanging at the stall, much to minji's disappointment.

"you can play and get that box yourself," you laughed at her exaggerated pout.

"i'll never hit five balloons - did you see how far apart they are?"

"that sounds like a you problem," danielle says, taking the toy from your hands and playing with it.

"it's so cute," you say.

"talking about me, i hope?"

you four turn to the voice, finding riki grinning at you. you'd recognise his deep voice anywhere.

"you are the furthest thing from cute," danielle rolls her eyes.

"y/n seems to think otherwise!" hanni teases, causing you to glare at her.

"hi riki! have you played any of the games yet?"

"nope," he said, popping the 'p'. "jungwon let me go from volunteer work just now - not that i even volunteered in the first place." you noticed the cute scrunch of his nose as he talked, and found it endearing.

"perks of being friends with the student president!" you chuckle.

"you're right, i got to be incredibly rude to the customers, and had every right to be. you should've heard him sighing every other minute, but he couldn't say anything."

"you're so mean," minji says.

"i'm still not listening to you," he turns away from her.

"aw, let me go cry about it in a corner real quick," she mocks him.

"i'd prefer if you took your time, actually."

"okay, let's go play tug-of-war!" you interject before they could get into another row.

"that requires five people on one team, though," hanni tells you.

"he can join then," you suggest, pointing your thumb back at riki. "are you okay with that?"

"better than working at the limbo stand with sunghoon," he shrugs.

the five of you play five rounds of tug-of-war, going against different teams each time. you have to admit, without riki, you and your friends would have never won a single round. his help had let you guys win every one.

"my hands are so tired and sore," minji complained, showing you her hands. they had red marks from the rope, similar to you and the others.

danielle and hanni joined you two in comparing your palms, holding them out in the middle of your little circle. riki came and held out his own palms too.

"woah, riki's hands are way more red," hanni gawked.

"to be fair, he did carry our team," you say. "you really put your all into it, huh?"

"it's all or nothing," he smiled.

he looked down at your hands and took one by the wrist. you watched curiously as he pressed your palms together, holding your hands up in the air.

"my hands are way bigger than yours," he remarks.

"maybe that's why your grip on the rope was better," you wonder, skin tingling where it met his. "my fingers look tiny next to yours."

"they do!" he laughs, eyes wide at the large difference in sizes.

then he shifted his hand so your fingers were no longer aligned, and grinned cheekily as he intertwined your hands. your hands fit perfectly, as if the gaps between your fingers were meant for his.

your eyes widen in surprise and you have to look away to hide the heat rushing to your face, only to be faced with your friends' smirks.

"getting bold, nishimura," hanni comments.

he just laughs as he swings your hands between you two, holding onto them.

hanni and minji decided to go and get face paint, while danielle went to go get some food, since she'd begun to get hungry after all those games. you and riki went and played more of the activities, making up for the time he'd missed serving at the limbo stand jungwon forced him to work at.

you walked over to the three-legged race game, getting in line as riki went to the toilet.

“make sure you have a partner!” a student you recognised as leehan stationed at the activity was shouting to everyone in line. “otherwise we’ll pair you up with someone random!”

you noticed a few nervous glances sent your way, worried that they’d be paired with you, seeing you were alone. you sighed in familiar disappointment.

“hello,” the student at the desk greeted you when you were up front. it was eunchae. “where’s your partner?” she asked, not needing to ask for your name.

“oh, he’s not here yet.”

“if he doesn’t come soon, we’ll have to pair you up with someone else,” she frowned. you could hear the line behind you going quiet, holding their breaths.

“is there anyone else who’s alone?” eunchae yelled, leaning to look at the others behind you.

you looked to see everyone turn away, avoiding eye contact. they didn’t want to be paired with the principal’s daughter. you weren’t planning on playing with anyone other than riki in the first place, but your heart still sank when people didn’t even try to hide their dislike for you.

“i’m sorry, y/n. if no one goes with you, you can’t play.”

“i’m going with her.”

you released a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding when you heard riki’s voice.

“nishimura riki?” eunchae said in surprise, but started writing his name next to yours nonetheless.

leehan handed you two a fabric cloth, which you had to use to tie two of your legs together.

you guys hopped around, testing out your new third leg. however, you stepped a little too far at one point, and your leg binded to riki’s had you falling over.

“woah!” he exclaimed and grabbed for your upper arm. “careful.”

“thanks,” you tell him. he had saved you from planting straight into the ground.

“better hold on,” he says, wrapping your arm around his own. you guys limp your way to the starting line, and wait for the race to start.

when leehan yelled ‘go!’, you and riki started running, or more like staggering forward.

“okay, we need to do have a strategy,” you giggle. “tied leg first, then ours.”

you both chanted that to yourselves, laughing and trying not to trip over. soon you got used to it, and your speed picked up, slowly overtaking the other pairs running.

as you guys went, you felt too aware of riki’s arm wrapped around your waist. he hugged you close as you both (attempted) to run, while you held onto his shoulder for support. you kept your head down, watching your steps, trying to hide the furious blush that was no doubt on your face.

riki’s laugh echoed through your ears as you two made your way to the finish line, the last pair to finish the race.

“we’re terrible,” he shook with laughter.

“it was because of you,” you teased, poking his stomach.

“nuh-uh! you were definitely too slow.” he poked you back, and realised you were ticklish when you involuntarily jerked and started giggling.

he started chasing you as you ran way to try and avoid his tickles, cackling behind you as you sprinted for your life.

“hey!” you yelled when he caught your wrist, and you tripped onto the ground, causing him to topple over with you.

you giggled uncontrollably as he poked your sides; you didn’t even realise you were this ticklish. your own laughter died down as he slowly came to a stop, finally letting you breathe in some air.

the air was knocked out of you again though, when you realised how close your faces were.

his eyes sparkled as you saw your reflection in them, so close you could count his eyelashes. the moles on his face really were pretty, and his soft lips gaping open at you squeezed your heart.

“sorry,” he says climbing off of you, and you sit up on the grass of the field.

looking around, you see some people giving you curious looks, some very obviously trying not to stare.

“um,” is your intelligent response. “thanks, by the way. for earlier.”

“for what?” he tilted his head, confused.

“when you kept me from falling. i should also thank you for saving me embarrassment when you came at the right moment.”

“no worries, i should’ve came earlier. those people were treating you like a you were an alien.”

“ugh, i know,” you groan, lying back onto the ground. “they were scared of being paired up with the principal’s daughter, or something. they always are.”

“scared of you?”

“yeah,” you huff. “ever since i came, people never tried talking to me after finding out my dad was the new principal.”

“really? your dad isn’t even that scary.”

“you were literally scared he didn’t approve of you being my friend,” you remind him.

“right, well,” he chuckles awkwardly. “but he’s pretty nice, actually. i just thought he would go all protective over you.”

“maybe that’s why no one talks to me. was it like this with the last principal’s kid?”

“no, she didn’t have any kids at school. they were all at college.”

“oh.”

“you look exhausted.”

“i am.”

“tell me about it.”

and then you did. you told him about how tired you were of being seen only as ‘the principal’s daughter’, like some kind of character. how everyone’s too intimidated by you to even look your way, and how that’s stopped you from being able to make friends.

everyone had isolated you, making you out to be something to gawk at, and not touch. you wished people thought of you as more than your father’s daughter - as an actual person.

and riki listened. he listened attentively, like he promised. he nodded and stared at you unblinkingly, as if he was afraid that if he closed his eyes for just a moment, you’d disappear.

you had told all this to your friends before - it’s come up in several conversations. but when it was riki you were talking to, you felt free. you felt like he understood you on a deeper level than your friends. maybe he did.

“you get me, don’t you?”

his eyes widened when you directed your question at him.

“well- yeah… i guess. but i want to talk about you, or more like hear your voice.”

“thank you, riki. i’ve never felt more heard than now.”

you could tell he felt the same.

after getting to know him, you realised that everyone often saw him as a character too. he was regarded as the one that broke the rules, and did whatever he liked. no one really cared or wondered if he himself was okay, all they saw was another exhibit to point at.

you wondered if everyone was like this - if everyone you saw was really more of a character than who they really were. was there anyone out there who was actually seen for who they were? or do we all stereotype everyone into a character before we even really know them?

right then, you decided you wanted to break out of the mould the school had created for you. and after befriending riki, you knew exactly how.

“i have an idea.”

“uh oh,” he responded, but a smile tugged at his lips. “you’re planning something.”

“i am. i think i don’t want to be this ‘innocent’ and ‘clean’ person anymore. are you in with me?”

“what if i’m not? what if i want to be the ‘innocent’ and ‘clean’ person this time?”

“then i won’t involve you.”

you smiled at him, and he smiled back at you.

— FOURTEEN ; MASTERLIST ; SIXTEEN

; AUTHOR’S CORNER ! posting earlier in the day bc guess who just passed driving school and got her DRIVER'S LICENSEEEE also sorry this ended up quite long and a little philosophical at the end LOL

; TAGLIST - @riziwon @gweoriz @yenqa @miyseung @beomgyusonlywife @luvlee1313 @wildflowermooon @pookikisses @j-wyoung @n0t-kc @chiiiiiiiiis @ghostiiess @mrchweeee @jjongshrts @luvistqrzzz @lilriswife4life @aikoluvssyouu @cholexc @bahngchatsfx @teddywonss @woniewonn @artstaeh @thesassy-mia @moaqong @itsactuallylina @armydrcamers @mowagyu @yumilovesloona @ibsysbsfsunsbs @ashy1um @ahnneyong @jakelux @jaeminri @sweet-kisses-and-bloody-screams @ririlovesrenjun @sloobydooburmomjungwon @kyanmeai @lazy-miya @bbybearcubbs @hwasfavgf @girlhees @seungified @softieluvsyou @flwoie @y0iy0i @microwvdstrawb3rri3s send an ask or comment on the masterlist to be added .

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russellsppttemplates · 10 months

Text

Your mummy is my hero (Lance Stroll)

Lance and Y/N continue their journey into parenthood

Note: english is not my first language. Like the last pieces, this piece is written from experiences I know and not from such a scientific point of view, so it is probable that there are some mistakes as I'm not a doctor. Still, I've tried to treat this as respectfully as possible as this is very close to my heart.

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions endometriosis, fertility issues and treatments and associated topics (needles, blood), pregnancy, baby feeding

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Hey, darling", Lance greeted, setting the wooden spoon on the counter and wiping his hands on the towell by the cabinets, "how was your day?", he walked up to you, placing his hands on your waist as pulling you to him close enough so he could kiss you, "it was good, but I'm really tired, like, really really tired", you hummed before blushing at your own admission.

Lately, the smallest efforts, both physical and cognitive, were leaving you with a tiredness you couldn't recognise. Pairing that with the fact that Lance had been extra doting on you since the transfer, which meant cosy nights in his chest always available for you to lay on, there hadn't been a night in the last week where you hadn't been in bed by the time the news finished on the TV.

"And you managed to eat lunch?", he asked, walking back to the stove so he could finish plating up the food he just cooked, "yes, it was fine. I think this whole eating and going to bed routine, as lovely as it is, is not agreeing with my stomach", you shrugged.

Approaching him so it would be your turn to hug him, you positioned yourself so you could get close enough to his neck, kissing the thin skin there and whispering in his ear, "am I crazy if I think this means our little bun is making themselves warm and cosy in my uterus?".

"I think it's okay, because I'm hopeful, too", he whispered back, smiling as he kissed your cheek, "tomorrow we will know for sure", Lance offered, "until then, I have one of your favourite dishes and some cuddles that hopefully won't turn your tummy upside down", he smiled, holding your plate out so you could bring it to the table and you could both eat dinner.

"Dr. Marlin will call you shortly", one of the nurses informed as she escorted you out the the room she had taken your blood in, smiling warmly at Lance.

"Everything okay?", your husband asked, "yes, at this point, I don't even mind it", you reassured him, holding his hand in yours, "whatever happens today, we'll get through it, okay?", he whispered. Even though he cried happy tears when you had the transfer, he had gotten back to be the strong person in the process. He was the one caring for you and making sure you were both standing with your feet on the ground, regulating any emotions and allowing you to breakdown every time you needed to, never failing to bring the smile back to your face.

"I have your results back", Dr. Marlin said once you had sat down and had small talk, "congratulations, Y/N! You're pregnant", she announced.

Lance was quick to pull you to his side, hugging you as best as he could and kissing the side of your head as you cried, "I'm sorry, but these good news are also a lot to take in", you chuckled, wiping the tears with your thumbs before looking at Dr. Marlin, sensing she wanted to carry on.

"It's okay to feel like this, it's completely normal", she offered, "while this is still early, so we have to be careful, your levels looks really good", she pointed the screen so you could see your results and the interval they have to be for successful procedures, "everything is looking good, your HCG levels are very good even. You already know the risks and what you should keep an eye out for, but so far, we are headed in the right direction, congratulations!".

After prescribing you prenatal vitamins and booking the next appointment, Dr. Marlin sent you both on your way to enjoy the rest of the afternoon, "I love you", Lance said once you sat in the passengers seat, kissing your lips passionately, "I love you, too, handsome, so much", you smiled, cupping his cheek softly and rubbing the skin with your thumb quickly before he moved so he could close the door.

"And then I was like 'wait, I've learnt how to do this in a better way!', so I gathered the things I needed and so far, it's going along well", you said as you walked around the bedroom, grabbing your underwear from the drawer and putting it on, untying your robe's belt as you walked to the head of the bed so you could grab and put your pyjamas on, "and what about you?", you asked your husband, "did they change the shape on the front wing?", you asked, taking off the robe completely.

"Yes, they ran some tests and it looks promising, and I also d- woah", he gasped, adjusting his position onto the bed, "it wasn't there last night", he whispered, rolling on the bed so he could approach you, his head in line with your midsection.

"What wasn't th- oh", you noticed, too. The swell under your boobs was prominent. Not like whenever you had a little bit too much of your mother's cooking or whenever your period left you feeling heavier, but rather like a baby bump.

"It still feels surreal", you whispered, pulling your shorts all the way up so they sat lowly on your hips and sitting on the bed next to Lance, his hand going straight to caress your skin while you pulled the thin material on to rest just under your boobs, "our little one is growing, made themselves cosy and warm inside mummy? You're very clever already", he spoke to the bump as his hands continued their ministrations on your skin, pressing his lips above your belly button and leaving small kisses there, "you still have a long way to grow, but mummy and daddy are here so excited to meet you, love".

"She's growing my baby, and I don't mean this to sound so animalistic - maybe it's that instinct though -, but she's growing our baby that we made together and she's the best, she's taking everything like a champion. I know that there are hard days, but she's still doing it 24/7", Lance said.

"Well, it's not something you can tag out or have a break", Chloe retorted despite knowing where her younger brother was getting at.

"I know, but- she's been through a lot, we've been through a lot, and we're finally so close to meeting our daughter", he admitted.

You didn't want to make a big fuss around it, but you insisted on gathering both families for a dinner to celebrate your baby and to spend some time together before your routines changed. You and Lance spoke to a caterer who delivered the food at your place while Chloe, Scotty and your husband set the big table while you played with your nephew, the little boy forever entertained with your games and occasionally kissing your clothed bump like he had seen his uncle do so many times.

When Chloe brought the small box with balloons, her smile was beaming, "open it, open it! I'm very proud of myself for not taking a peak, but please, open it!", your sister in law beamed, clapping her hands as the rest of the family members waited expectantly for you and Lance to rip the tape and lift the lid of the box.

When you did so and it revealed lavender coloured balloons with silver writing announcing "it's a girl!", everyone cheered and clapped, Lance hugging you as one hand travelled to your bump whole the other pulled your closer, "ready to be a girl dad?", you teased, kissing his chin, "I was born ready for this, my love".

Knowing you were carrying his little girl made Lance even more attentive to you, if that was possible, and it brought out an even softer side of him. He tried to be there for all the appointments he could, had organised a list with you so you could both have input in what you'd need to buy for your baby girl, and anytime he saw something he liked and thought "she absolutely needs to have this", he would bring it home along with your favourite dessert in a take out bag.

"I'm back", you announced as you walked back into the living room, "hopefully she'll let me sit for longer than an hour and not use my bladder like a dance floor", you chuckled, seeing Lance open his arms so you could sit next to him as he hugged you sideways.

"Have you thought about names? I remember me and Scotty went back and forth with so many names until we found the one that felt right", Chloe questioned.

"We have a list with a couple of them", you began, "and we're set on one, Addalynn. It's a strong name, we can do Addy for a short nickname", you explained, rubbing your bump as you felt her kick, "and she seems to like it, too! She always wiggles harder whenever we say it!".

The rumble in the corridor was practically unheard inside your hospital room as Lance exited the bathroom after washing his hands, looking over to you and seeing your sleeping figure. The labour had, as expected, taken a lot of energy from you, so after the medical team made sure you were in good health and after you fed your babygirl, they urged you to rest for a little bit, reassuring you that they'd be around if anything happened.

"Hey, little love", Lance cooed, noticing his daughter give a little scrunch in her bassinet and prompting him to take her out and hold her against his chest, "what a delicious scrunch you've got there, hm?", he complimented as he grabbed a blanket, sitting down and covering her back with the blanket after making sure she was in a good position, "Mummy is resting now, you gave her a hard time to come out here, did you know that?"

"Mummy and I have dreamed of this day for a really long time, and you've made our dreams come true", he cooed, softly touching Addalynn's soft chubby cheeks, "mummy put her body through a lot so we could be a family, and that's why she's my hero", he noted as she made a small noise, meaningless to the conversation and yet Lance felt like she was reacting to what he said.

"I know, right? She's sleeping now, but you probably fell in love with her the minute you were put on her chest, like we did with you. Mummy is kind, selfless and resilient. Sometimes she's stubborn, too", he chuckled, "but that means she loves extra hard, too, and that we just need to keep an eye out when she's taking too much of a burden so we can share it. You and I are going to be a team for that, okay? Always keeping an eye out for mummy", he smiled, kissing her forehead, "your mummy is my hero, and from now on, you are both my priorities", he promised, the sigh from his daughter's lips as she opened and closed her mouth, "are you hungry? Mummy is asleep, isn't- Oh, she isn't, hm?".

You chuckled, rubbing your eyes as you smiled tiredly, "were you two having a chat? Without me?", you feigned offense as you watched your husband get up so he could place your daughter on your chest, "let's have some food, hm? Such a gorgeous girl, you are, and maybe me and you can also have a chat about daddy. I'm sure you've figured it out already", you added as you lowered your top, "but he's the best daddy ever".

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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gabessquishytum · 9 months

Note

Saw an old Ballet AU ask and just... I'm melting.

I love my clichés, so ex-dancer Dream who is a single father to Orpheus. Dream is very bitter about not being able to dance anymore due to an injury + not having time for physical therapy. So it takes some courage for Orpheus to ask him to teach him to dance. Dream refuses but signs Orpheus up to a dance class, somewhere where he can dance and Dream doesn't have to think about dancing.

Enter ballet teacher Hob, who just wants his young students to have fun. Dream is a little surprised that Orpheus doesn't come home exhausted and miserable like he used to. He decides to check the class out, just to make sure he's not paying crazy money for a scam.

Hob is not a scammer for sure. What the kids are doing is learning ballet. But Hob does not scream at them when they mess up, doesn't make them do something over and over again until they collapse. He gently motivates them and lets them set their own pace.

Dream tells himself he will not visit the class ever again after he made sure it's legit. It made his heart ache to see Orpheus, who is his little clone, dance like he used to. But then there is this event where the kids are supposed to bring their parents and Death was supposed to fill in for Dream but she [insert excuse] at the last minute and he has to go because Orpheus would be heartbroken if he didn't attend. Nothing can be done; Dream will just explain that he's had a serious injury and can't dance. Hopefully, they will still let Orpheus participate.

But Hob assures him that he will not make him do anything difficult, he should at least try, for Orpheus, and when Dream is exhausted, Hob will gladly fill in for him, but please try... Dream is easily swayed by Hob's doe eyes and agrees. And he absolutely regrets telling Hob about the injury because Hob remains close by his side, supporting him through movements that should be difficult to an amateur that Dream would still manage in his sleep. He is basically dancing with Hob as Hob keeps his hands on Dream, and for a moment even Orpheus is forgotten, though he doesn't mind because he's finally seeing his dad smile! Probably for the first time ever.

I'll cut it off here before it becomes an entire ficlet. XD You all know how the story goes, anyway.

- 🚒

Am crying softly. I bet Dream was so torn up when Orpheus said he wanted to do ballet. Of course Dream would do anything for his son, but with his past, its so painful to see this little mini version of himself following the same path that he once took. His relief in knowing that Orpheus is being treated with kindness and is actually enjoying himself almost makes him burst into tears.

Hob actually recognises Dream from his previous career, but he doesn't go all fanboy on him when they first meet. Hob is gentle, kind, and just a tiny bit pushy - the perfect combination of things to persuade Dream that maybe he can dance. This one time.

And Hob gets to watch as Dream’s body wakes up from its long dormancy. Its the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. Orpheus is grinning and twirling around with pure joy, and Dream is absolutely beaming - and oh dear, Hob might be just a tiny bit in love.

At the end of the event when Hob offers Dream an hour each week in the studio to practice some gentle dance, he promises that he'll be around to support him both physically and emotionally. He doesn't quite anticipate that Dream will lean in and kiss him on the cheek. Or that Orpheus will hug him so tightly.

And oh, he's not just a little bit in love. He's head over heels!

#🚒 anon #the sandman #dreamling

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g1rld1ary · 3 months

Note

hiiii🩷 i love your work and i wanted to request a drabble. i don’t know if you’ve done something like this before or not so… also im new to the whole requesting thing.

so it’s basically a lockwood x reader where lucy and george don’t know lockwood has a kinda secret gf. and one day she shows up to the door of 35 portland row and lockwood has to explain to them that he has a girlfriend. (he didn’t tell anyone to protect her or smth).

opening doors - lockwood x reader

wc: 1980

cw: mentions of an injury, one use of 'my girl' but otherwise gn i think?

an: thanku for requesting baby!!! sorry its taken a while but i lovedddd this request and writing this!! i know i changed the end a little bit but shh hopefully its ok!! xoxo

Dating whilst ghosts roamed the streets of London was hard. Dinner dates were a precarious decision and you had to be sure if you were spending the night pretty quickly for your own safety (against ghosts, men were still another question). Dating a ghost hunter? That was harder. Yes, he wasn't exactly a 'ghost hunter' but that was close enough from the stories your boyfriend told you; brushes with death were a common occurrence, much to your chagrin.

You couldn't count the number of times you'd sat up all night in your bedroom, waiting for a call to confirm that he was alright and alive after a case. But Lockwood was Lockwood and each time, just as your eyes were starting to close on their own, your phone would ring and you'd be startled awake, picking up as fast as your arms would let you. He'd open with an affirmation that everything was fine and he was sitting in the library with a hot cup of tea, ready for a chat with you.

This had been your routine for the six months you'd been dating, and while it had ruined your sleep schedule, you couldn't be happier. Lockwood had turned your world upside down after your chance encounter at your university while he was investigating a case, giving you adventures and the most love you'd ever felt. You were similarly obsessed with him, rambling on about your day over the phone and attaching to his hip whenever you could get together.

This was all true, except for the last four days. Lockwood told you on Sunday they had a high-paying case on Monday night and hadn't called you since. No confirmation he was alright, let alone alive, and it was killing you. He'd never forgotten, not once over six months. This ignited a panic in your stomach, anxiety clawing through your chest as you had to continue on with your week acting like you could think of anything other than your boyfriend.

On the fifth day, you'd had enough. And so, on Friday afternoon after your class had let out for the weekend, you marched to Portland Row for the very first time. Lockwood didn't want you around his business, saying he wanted to keep 'the best thing in his life' separate and as safe as possible. You didn't mind, you had a tiny apartment all to yourself that you were more than happy to host him in, but it did make your expedition more scary than it otherwise would have been.

Still, you steeled your nerves and rapped on the front door, picking your nails nervously as you waited for someone to answer. That person happened to be an unimpressed-looking boy who you recognised from Lockwood's tales as George.

"Can I help you?" He asked, wearing cartoonishly large rubber gloves that made you want to laugh.

"Is Lockwood here?" You took his lead to skip the pleasantries, none of it being even vaguely interesting to you until you knew your boyfriend was alright. George hesitated.

"He's not seeing anyone right now."

"Why not?" You all but cut him off, desperation making you forget your manners. He narrowed his eyes, clearly choosing his words clearly.

"He had a nasty accident on our last case. He's only gotten back from hospital today and is on strict bed rest. If you have a professional inquiry, you're welcome to return later or speak to me or my other colleague, Lucy Carlyle."

"Can I speak to Lucy?" You needed to talk to a girl. Clearly, George was not the most emotionally sensitive member of the company, and if you tried bartering a visit with him you had an inkling you'd start crying. If Lockwood's descriptions were anything to go off, Lucy was much more likely to understand you.

George let you in, clearly reluctantly, leading you to the kitchen. He awkwardly made you tea, leaving you to drink it silently as he went to fetch Lucy. You took the moment alone to take in the kitchen, a soft ache settling into the edges of your heart. It was so cozy, so lived in that it almost upset you. Lockwood and Lucy and George. They were the residents of 35 Portland Row, they got to wake up to one another every morning. They got to bicker over the jam and tea. You woke up alone, going about most of your days in silence unless you started talking to yourself, but you were really trying not to make that a habit.

It wasn't that you hated Lockwood keeping you a secret, it made complete sense. He was in a dangerous profession and had an even more impulsive nature, making for a risky lifestyle. And as he'd unwillingly told you, he did have people who occasionally came after him. Lockwood didn't want you caught in the crossfire and you understood, you were grateful, even. But looking at the life he led without you, you couldn't help but regret it a little bit. Portland Row was the kind of place you didn't even have to try to be able to imagine as your home.

You were interrupted by George returning with Lucy in tow, both clearly unprepared for a client. George was in some sort of cleaning gear, the aforementioned gloves and an apron over his shirt, and Lucy looked like she'd been working out but not for long, only a slight sheen on her features and her clothes still mostly light and moving.

"Hi, I'm Lucy," She greeted, a warm (if somewhat awkward) smile on her lips, "How can we help you?"

"I need to see Lockwood, please."

"You know we're not idiots, right?" George snapped, "Actually, I'm much more competent than him." Lucy shot him a dark look, elbowing him in the ribs as they sat across from you.

"What he means is that despite it being Lockwood's name on the sign, we're all fully qualified to talk to you and take your case. I'm not sure what George has said, but Lockwood is--"

"He's my boyfriend." You cut her off, unable to stand any more delay. You were met with dead silence, both agent's jaws dropped open.

"What?"

"He's my boyfriend," You affirmed, "We're dating and I need to see that he's ok."

"That's not possible." George shook his head, "He's never mentioned you."

"Not that we don't believe you, but can you tell us more? We just don't want to let any random person into our house, I'm sure you understand," Lucy added and you nodded instantly, more than aware that Lockwood had made enemies during his time with his company.

You started speaking, spilling the exact timeline of your relationship, details of your time together, vague suggestions that he'd told you about his family, anything you could think of to prove that you were really together. Then, like a lightbulb illuminating over your head, you reached into your coat pocket for your wallet. Sitting on the inside was a Polaroid of you and Lockwood, him kissing your cheek as you laughed. George grabbed it, examining it in disbelief. Even Lucy stole a glance or two before turning her focus back to you, new sympathy in her eyes.

"Will you please tell me what happened to him?" You begged, reaching out for Lucy's hand. She held yours firmly, speaking in a soft voice as she explained the incident.

"We were on a case on Monday and Lockwood took a leap down some stairs to get away from a ghost. He fractured his patella. It's fine, the doctor said he got pretty lucky all things considered, no surgery needed or anything. He was just kept in hospital for a few days because -- as I'm sure you know -- Lockwood isn't good at following instructions, especially orders not to get out of bed for a week. He only got back this morning which I assume is why he hasn't communicated with you." You nodded slowly, taking it all in.

"Can I see him, please?"

They both nodded quickly, leading you up the stairs to where you assumed Lockwood's bedroom lay. Lucy knocked before cracking the door open, smiling softly at her boss.

"We've got a guest here for you."

"A client? Can't you talk to them? I'm not in my professional clothes!" You could hear him rustling in the bed sheets, presumably pushing himself up to be sitting and smiled a little.

"Better than a client, I hope?" You said, stepping through the doorway. You watched Lockwood go through a thousand emotions in an instant, but his face settled on elation, holding out his arms for you.

You rushed to his side, wrapping him up in your arms as tight as you could.

"What are you doing here?" He asked incredulously, a laugh escaping his lips.

"Someone didn't call me after his case," You replied, sliding into the bed next to him to hold his arm.

"And someone didn't tell his coworkers-slash-friends-slash-housemates about his secret partner he's had for half a year!" George cut in.

"Sorry, Georgie," Lockwood gave him a megawatt smile, "Had to keep my girl safe, you understand." You grinned, pushing yourself even closer to him. George grumbled something but Lucy was already pushing him out the door, giving the two of you some much-needed space.

Safely alone, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad you're okay. I was so scared."

"I'm sorry, lovely. I couldn't get to a phone in the hospital, but I thought about you all day every day."

"But now your friends know about us," You said and Lockwood nodded with a smile that made your insides melt.

"They do," He paused, "So d'you think it's time for you to finally spend the night here?" You grinned.

"Really?" You could almost feel the sparkle in your eyes. Lockwood nodded again, a matching look on his face. You didn't bother confirming, instead pressing your lips to his desperately.

Dinner at Portland Row was exactly how you'd imagined it; loud and chaotic and absolutely perfect. George and Lucy arguing over the tiny details of a case story they were telling you, Lockwood butting in with a flashy description of the action sequence. You laughed along, compliments spilling out as you tasted George's cooking. It was too easy to see it happening perpetually, and you had to stop yourself from getting too comfortable on your first visit.

You settled in for the night next to Lockwood. You were in Lockwood's bed with him. You weren't sure if you'd stopped smiling all night.

"I like being here," You said into the dark, looking at the vaguely Lockwood-shaped shadow next to you.

"You could stay here more often, the others love you already."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, all that we've gotten out of keeping us a secret is worry. If people come after me, I promise that I'll do everything to protect you, but we shouldn't waste all our time being scared of something that may never happen. I love you," He said. You faltered, breath hitching slightly. He'd never said that before. Maybe it was slow, maybe it wasn't, but you knew Lockwood was so scared of committing to his feelings, this was everything.

"I love you too," You replied, hearing the smile in your voice as you said it. It was the easiest night of sleep you and Lockwood had ever had.

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daisyblog · 10 months

Text

Surprise

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN and Harry see their baby for the first time and tell their closest family the news.

It had been a busy week for YN and Harry. They had travelled home at the beginning of the week from Manchester, where they had spent two evenings with Anne.

They had arranged an appointment with a midwife, as they were still none the wiser of how many weeks pregnant YN was. YN’s symptoms had calmed this week, she felt like her energy levels were slowly increasing, she no longer felt nauseous or had headaches.

It was Tuesday morning, and they had scheduled their midwife appointment for late morning. YN was a tad nervous, she wasn’t sure what to expect from this appointment but she prayed for a healthy baby.

Since they found out about the little one, Harry’s hand always found it's way to rest on YN’s tummy. When they were lying in bed in the night, his hand would be on her tummy as her back cuddled into his chest. Or when they were cuddled up on the sofa in the evenings, he couldn’t help but hold where their baby was.

So when Harry cuddled her from behind, as she stirred their cups of tea, YN wasn’t surprised when his hand landed on her tummy.

“Morning.” Harry left a peck on YN’s neck as he cuddled her.

“G’morning baby.” YN continued to stir the milk into the mugs that sat on the counter.

“How are my favourite people this morning?” YN’s heart warmed at his words, a smile appearing on her face, as his hand gently stroked at the skin on her tummy.

YN turned in his arms. “I can’t believe we’re going to have a little person, who’s half of me and half of you.”.

“I hope they have your blue eyes.” Harry had always loved her blues, the first thing he noticed all those years ago.

“I hope they have your kindness.” Harry didn’t reply, he simply pressed his lips to YN’s.

---

They had found themselves in the waiting room of the hospital. The room was white, and very clinical, the walls were covered in posters aimed at expecting parents.

YN was picking at the skin around her fingers, anxiety surrounding her as she waited for her name to be called. Harry noticed when she had responded as he spoke, so he slipped his fingers between hers knowing that would help her to calm a little.

“YN Tomlinson!” A woman, around the same age as YN and Harry called. Which made Harry a little worried that she may recognise them.

They both followed the midwife down the corridor and into a small side room. After they all took a seat, the midwife who they had now learnt her name was Cara.

After Cara had asked YN a few personal details about her date of birth, how she was feeling and her medical history, Cara began to look through the file that was on the table in front of them.

“Okay…so from what I can see here in your notes, you’re not really sure how far along you are…is that right?” Cara asked YN with a friendly smile.

“Uh yeah…my periods have been a bit irregular lately because we’ve been travelling, so some months I’ve had one and others I haven’t.” YN explained, as she glanced to her side where Harry was sitting.

Cara nodded at the new information and wrote something in the file. “That’s understandable, so what we’ll do today is send you for a scan and then we can measure how far along you are.”.

YN was instructed to sit back in the waiting room and drink water before her scan, so her bladder would be full for them to perform the scan.

Harry and YN were talking about how nervous but excited they were that they would hopefully see their little one for the first time today, depending on how many weeks YN is.

The couple waited an hour until they were called into another room, where a sonographer introduced herself and explained what would happen during the scan.

As instructed, YN laid down on the bed and pulled her jumper up and wiggled her leggings down a tad, so her tummy was exposed. Harry was sat on the edge of the seat next to her, trying to hide the anxious nerves that he felt right now.

“This is going to be cold.” Georgia, the sonographer, explained as she squirted the gel onto YN’s tummy. Causing YN to flinch at the sensation. “Sorry darling.”.

The room was silent as Georgia rubbed the gel over YN’s tummy with the probe. Harry watched carefully but he could see YN take a deep breath to calm herself, so gently he held her hand, that laid beside her on the bed, and rubbed circles with his thumb to let her know that everything was going to be okay and he was right by her side.

“Ohh!”. Georgia broke the silence of the room.

“Is everything alright?” YN panicked, causing Harry to sit up straighter in the chair.

The sonographer smiled as her eyes still focused on the screen in front of her, and her hand continued to move the probe around. “Everything is almost perfect, I was just surprised to see a baby and not a small blob.”.

“What does that mean?” Harry was quick to ask, not understanding what was happening.

“It means that you’re a lot further along than you may think.” Georgia spoke to both YN and Harry. “You’re actually fourteen weeks and three days.”.

“Fourteen weeks!” YN was in disbelief. “ Are you sure?.”

Georgia turned the screen, to face them. “Very sure” she laughed. “Here’s your baby’s head, tummy, arms and legs.”.

And there in front of them was their little baby, arms and legs wiggling around. How could they love someone so much that they hadn’t met?

YN squeezed Harry’s hand that still held hers, as the tears were running down her face. But as she looked to her side, she could see that Harry was wiping away his own.

“M’sorry…it’s..it’s just made me all emotional.”. Harry apologised, as he used his hand to wipe away a tear.

“You don’t need to be sorry…that’s our baby, it’s going to be emotional.” YN reassured him that it was okay to cry.

Georgia interrupted the moment. “The partners usually cry more than the Mums…it’s a natural reaction.”.

After a few more checks, YN and Harry were able to leave the hospital with multiple different scan photos, ready to share with all their family.

---

As soon as Harry and YN arrived home, they broke the news to Teddy. But Teddy lifted his head from where he was cuddled up, to the sound of their excited voices to only pop his head back down and proceed with his doggy nap,

Deciding to tell someone who would be more than interested in their news, Harry FaceTimed him Mum.

“Hello my darlings!” Anne spoke as her face popped up on the screen.

“Hi Mum.”

“How are my favourite people?” Anne asked, eager to know how their appointment went.

“Do you want to see your grandbaby?” Harry asked, knowing how excited he and YN was to share their news.

“Of course…could you see a lot then?”

YN held the scan photo up to the camera and Anne’s reaction was just how they imagined.

“OHH…wait that’s an actual baby.” YN and Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “I was expecting like a little dot or something.”.

“We thought the same Mum.” Harry agreed. “YN’s actually fourteen weeks and-“.

“FOURTEEN WEEKS!”. Anne couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Sorry..I’m just in shock!”.

---

Next was Louis. Louis managed to find a quiet room in the arena to FaceTime YN, as he was playing a show in Brighton that evening.

“‘Ello love.” Louis spoke as YN accepted the call.

“Hi Lou!” YN greeted her brother. “I’m sad that we’re not coming tonight.” YN’s grandparents and Daisy were heading to the show this evening, and she was a little jealous.

“I know…but you’re coming on Friday.”. Louis was so excited to be playing the O2 on Friday evening. “So let’s see my niece or nephew then.”.

YN held the scan photo up for Louis to see. “I’m fourteen weeks and three days.”.

“Fookin’ ‘ell…I wasn’t expecting you to be that far along…I thought you were going to five or six weeks.”.

“I know…we were so shocked…I still can’t process it.” YN admitted.

“Hang on…the Away From Home Festival was fourteen weeks ago.” Louis thought out loud.

“Yeah…okay I’ve got to go…love you bye.” YN couldn’t end the FaceTime quick enough at the idea of her brother working out when they had conceived their baby.

---

A pregnant Gemma came around to their house on Thursday morning, as she hadn’t seen them properly for a while as she was trying her hardest to hide her own pregnancy. YN had just made them all a cup of tea, and Harry and YN had left their scan photos out on purpose to see if Gemma would notice.

They all chatted about what they had missed in each others lives over the last few weeks, until Gemma noticed the ultrasound on the side table in the living area.

“Is this Phoebe’s?” Gemma asked, knowing that YN’s sister was expecting.

“No…it’s mine.” YN casually said as she took a sip from her mug.

Gemma’s eyes found Harry’s, almost looking for confirmation. When Harry smiled, Gemma screamed with excitement. “I’m gonna be an auntie…our babies are gonna be besties!”. After she had calmed down, Gemma hugged YN and congratulated her. “Thank you so much…I’m so excited.”.

Harry sarcastically coughed when he heard Gemma’s words. “What about me?”.

“You’re not growing a baby…you had the easy job.” Gemma playfully dismissed her brother.

---

YN and Harry were planning on telling YN’s grandparents and siblings the news on Friday, before Louis show as they were all going to Lottie’s house for breakfast. But two special little people wouldn’t be there, so they had to settle for FaceTime.

“Hello my babies.” YN greeted her youngest siblings as they both appeared on the screen.

“Harry!” Ernest got excited to see Harry was FaceTiming with his sister too.

“Hey little dude.”

After Doris and Ernest had told them both about their days in school and what they had planned for the weekend, YN slowly started to tell them their news.

“We’ve got a question to ask you both.” YN managed to keep their attention. “You know how you’re an auntie and uncle to Lucky and soon Phoebe’s baby?”. When they both nodded, YN continued. “How do you feel about being an auntie and uncle again…but to mine and Harry’s baby?”.

It took a moment for the news to sink in. “You’re having a baby?” Doris was the first to speak.

“Yes…I’ve got a baby in my tummy.” YN showed them both the photo.

“Is it a boy or girl?” Ernest asked, obviously excited to know if there was another boy or girl coming into the family.

“We’re don’t know yet.” Harry explained.

“Are you both excited?” YN asked.

“Yes…I can’t wait.”

---

On Friday morning, Lottie and Lewis had invited everyone for breakfast at their house, ahead of Louis show. Louis couldn’t make it due to having to be at the venue.

After the group had eaten their breakfast and were lounging in the living room. YN had discreetly given Lucky a copy of her ultrasound.

Lucky toddled around and kept a tight hold of the photo. “What have you got Lucky?”. Lottie was quick to notice that Lucky had picked something up. “Aw Pheebs is this-“. But as she looked at it, she could see that it had YN’s name on it. “Are you?”.

YN nodded with a smile, from her place where she stood in front of Harry as he had an arm wrapped around her.

“What’s going on?” Daisy asked, as she looked between her two sisters, which caught everyone’s attention.

“YN’s pregnant!” Lottie announced, as she tried to let the words sink in herself.

All eyes were now on YN and Harry. “Surprise!”.

“I knew it” Jen stood from her seat, as she went to give the couple a cuddle. “I said last week there was something different about you…congratulations my loves.”.

Lottie was still screaming with excitement. “I’m going to be an auntie again!”. She was absolutely thrilled that another baby was joining the family.

Phoebe hugged YN as best as she could with her bump being in the way, but as their tummy’s were toughing “Meet your new little bestie.”. YN couldn’t describe the feeling of sharing a pregnancy with her sister.

“Well I guess that leaves me to be the only Tomlinson to use contraception.” Daisy joked, knowing that everyone would find her joke funny.

And before Harry and YN knew it, they were surrounded by love, hugs and congratulations. It was in that moment they realised how much love their baby had already.

Tag List: @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @harrys-flower @platinumbarbie143 @frickin-bats @harrysbbyh0ney @chronicallybubbly @goldensunflowe-r @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @kaverichauhan @peterholland04 @panicattheuc @or-was-it-just-a-dream @hittiesontour @bunnyharold @fanfictioncafe @lilfreakjez @iamahallucinationnn @theekyliepage @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @ashleighsss @jerseygirlinca @fake-coolbeans @itsmytimetoodream

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imyourbratzdoll · 2 years

Note

Oh what about Andy barber from defending jacob....so here is my request about Andy lost everything, he divorce his wife and the death of son, Jacob. Every once a week, he goes to see his hard working therapist, reader. He has a slight crush on her and one day off, Andy saw her in the bar. Smut in the bar bathroom

sorry, this took so long, and hopefully, it's okay, my smut might not be as good as I feel drained from it, haha.

summary - andy's therapist helps him in another unprofessional way.

warning - smut, talks of grief, dirty talk.

18+ only please, gif credit to @katlarence & divider credit to @firefly-graphics and @newlips

“So, how are you feeling today, Andy?” Y/n asks as she opens her notebook. I clear my throat, adjusting myself from the sight of her in her skirt, her leg poking through the slit. I pull the collar of my shirt away from my neck, feeling the room become warm.

“Uh…good” She raises a brow, “there are times I go to talk to Jacob or see something he’d like and then I remember that I can no longer talk to him or see the joy on his face because he’s dead and it’s all Laurie’s fault, and I still feel so guilty. I could’ve saved him, and I should’ve seen the signs sooner.” Tears fill my eyes.

Y/n pauses before placing her notebook down and grabbing my hand, “Andy, none of this is your fault, and there was nothing you could do to prevent it. Have you been doing the exercises I recommended?” I nod.

“Yeah, they help sometimes,” I say while stroking her hand. We talk for another fifty-five minutes before my appointment is up.

“Alright, Andy, unfortunately, that’s all the time we have. When would you like to make your next appointment?” I reply, making it in two weeks. As we say our goodbyes, all I can think about is bending her over her desk and taking out all of my frustrations.

I walk into my regular bar, desperate for a drink after my day. I order myself a whiskey, nodding to the bartender as he places my drink down. I go to take a sip before I hear something, a voice followed by a laugh that I recognise. I look to where it’s coming from and choke on my saliva. There she stands, wearing a gorgeous knee-length tight black with one of those stupid slits that show off her legs. I notice her breasts are pushed up, causing thoughts to enter my mind. I watch as her head tilts back when she laughs, eyes travelling down her throat, wondering what it would feel like to kiss, lick and bite it.

I’m so zoned out that I don’t notice her looking at me before excusing herself and making her way over. I’m brought out of my thoughts by a hand touching my arm, and my eyes focus on her smiling red lips. ‘Fuck, I wish they were wrapped around my cock.’

“Andy, hi.” My breath hitches in my throat.

“Hi,” I notice her trying to rub her thighs together subtly, I try to smile, but her perfume fills my senses, causing my cock to stir. She gestures to the empty seat next to me.

“Mind if I sit?” I shake my head, imagining her sitting on something else, but the stool would have to do.

“Go ahead,” my breath hitches ago, goosebumps covering my skin as her leg brushes against his.

“I’m sorry if I’m ruining your evening” I place a hand on hers.

“Your not.”

Our lips are locked as I push her against the bathroom door, muttering against them to jump. Her legs wrap around my waist, her core rubbing against my jean-clad bulge, and a soft moan leaves her lips from the friction. My tongue swipes her bottom lip before entering her mouth. The taste of strawberries and vodka fills my taste buds.

I walk over to the sink and place her on top before I reach down and under her dress. Ready to rip off her underwear, but I pull back, eyes wide as I look at her. An eyebrow raised, I watched Y/n blush and look down before placing my finger under her chin and making her look up at me, “wanna tell me why you're not wearing anything under this dress.” Y/n bites her lip, looking deep into my eyes.

“Um…It created lines….” She nibbles on her bottom lip, my eyes darting down and back up. Hand still under her dress, my fingers stroke her lips before finding her clit and rubbing. Staring into her eyes as I do, eyes dark with lust, hers roll back into her head when I thrust two in and rub her clit with my thumb. With my other hand, I unzip my jeans and take my thick cock out, my bulbous head leaking and throbbing.

Lifting Y/n’s dress to her hips, my cock hardens even more at the sight of her glistening pussy. She whines, placing her hands on my hips and trying to pull me closer. My cock lays heavy against her entrance before slowly pushing in, my head falls forward, and a loud groan leaves my mouth as whimpers leave hers.

My hips pull back before snapping roughly back in, my cock squeezed by her tight walls, thrusting into her hard and fast. My hands bruise her hips as I relentlessly fuck into her, my cock pounding into her tiny hole. Groans and moans fill the bathroom, skin slapping, and I embrace Y/n holding her close as my cock slides in and out. I place kisses along her collarbone and neck, leaving marks.

“Oh– oh, Andy, we shouldn’t be – fuck – doing this.” Y/n’s eyes roll to the back of her head as my cock hits her sweet spot, and her nails dig into my back, holding on for dear life. I pick up the pace, relentlessly tearing her cunt open. I pull back and stare at her face. One hand comes up and grips her chin, making her look at me. Her dazed eyes connected with my dark blue ones. Causing my cock to throb inside of her.

Sending a particularly hard thrust, “Of course, we should be doing this. You're helping me.” My hand wraps around her throat as I fuck hard into her, feeling my end approaching quickly. “Fuck– this is embarrassing, but I’m so close, and you feel so fucking good.” I feel Y/n clench around me, and my hands grip her hips tight as I continue to send relentless thrusts into her tiny hole.

“Andy– Andy, fuck. Please.” Y/n’s eyes roll to the back of her head as her cunt pulsates around him and her cream coats his massive, throbbing cock. Her body slips as her client pounds into her tight cunt.

Andy can feel his balls tightening, burying his cock deep inside Y/n before he releases and fills her to the brim with his load. A sigh of relief leaves the two of them as the feeling of a weight being lifted off of their shoulders leave. Andy slowly pulls out, reaching over and grabbing a paper towel before wetting it and cleaning both of them up. “Thank you,” his puppy dog blues look connected with Y/n’s eyes as he helps her re-dress herself before doing the same with himself.

Y/n smiles, her hand coming up and strokes his cheek. A squeal of shock leaves her lips as Andy leans forward and captures hers with his, bringing her into a passionate kiss.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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journey-to-the-attic · 2 months

Text

3rd anni req 22: [IT2] diavolo, mammon / on fathers

ao3 link

note: it2 is my new clever abbreviation for the 'it takes two' au and this starts around the asmo arc (i.e. during the retreat at the castle)! also i got a little in my feels while writing this so if you'd like to play a game with me, try to spot which parts of the venting came from a place of experience lol

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

It’s been a long while since Diavolo last wanted to hide from a gathering, and longer still since he lacked the self-consciousness to duck behind his father’s wings when things got overwhelming. Upon spotting IK’s tense little figure from the opposite side of the ballroom, however, he remembers the feeling just as sharply.

He keeps a genial smile on his face as the demons in his company continue chattering, interjecting a remark every now and then so as not to cause suspicion. When he notes that the Demonus in their glasses has drained enough, he dismisses them under the guise of inviting them to refill their drinks, and quickly sidles away.

It’s hard to move inconspicuously, but Barbatos - timely as ever - melts out of the crowd to efficiently ward off any would-be approachers, directing them instead in the direction of some of the R.A.D. faculty hovering by the buffet table. Hopefully the good professors won’t mind picking up the conversation in his stead.

IK is all but hiding behind a pillar. He ducks down and, keeping his voice low, says, “Hello. How are you doing?”

She jumps, then relaxes when he recognises him. “Uh— hi. I’m alright, thanks.”

“Are you sure? You’re all on your own over here.” He looks around the ballroom, but fails to spot any of the brothers on his first sweep. Which is a little alarming, actually, seeing as they usually stand out so much. “I think I’d better keep you company for a while.”

“You don’t need to do that,” IK says, but looks relieved all the same. “...there’s so many people here.”

“It’s overwhelming, isn’t it? I’m never as used to it as I think I am.”

She casts a glance around the room, then shrinks back and makes an attempt at melting into the wall. “...they’re staring.”

“They are,” He agrees, and sidles a little closer to the wall, flaring his wings as if stretching, and then closing them again with IK carefully hidden in their folds. “There! Is that better?”

“They’re going to stare more now,” She mumbles, but she does look a little pleased.

“In our direction, perhaps. But I can assure you that they won’t be able to see through me.”

“...thank you.”

“Of course.”

She hovers awkwardly for a moment. (Maybe he should’ve gotten a chair.)

“Where’s your father?” Diavolo asks finally.

IK shifts. “...dunno. He was talking to Lucifer last time I looked.”

“You didn’t stay with him?”

“Didn’t want to.”

Diavolo decides to forgo looking for Zhao first - he’s plain enough that he’s rendered practically invisible among demons - and instead scans the ballroom for two distinctive pairs of black-feathered wings. Lucifer, unusually, is out on the dance floor, and teaching IK’s father the intricacies of a traditional Devildom waltz.

They don’t seem to be having a bad time, at least, but Zhao still looks vaguely terrified. Then again, Diavolo’s fairly sure that that’s just what his face is like.

He decides to leave them to it. Attempting to wave either of them over would only attract more undue attention. The only issue with their current arrangement is that none of IK’s other friends will be able to spot her, either…

Or so he thinks. A few moments later, Mammon finally fights his way out of the crowd and makes a beeline straight for Diavolo - who, by all means, should be the only figure he sees by the wall.

But it isn’t Diavolo he addresses when he gets there. Eyes fixed firmly on the dark crevice in his wings, he ducks down and hisses, “I thought ya’d gotten lost! Tell me next time ya decide to play hide-n-seek!”

“Don’t be upset, Mammon,” Diavolo interjects mildly. “IK was only waiting by the wall. I was the one who offered to hide her.”

Mammon barely even gives him a cursory nod, let alone the customary bow. He withdraws a little, though, and looks less irritated. “...well, ya shouldn’t be wanderin’ around on your own, neither. I told ya to stick with the others.”

IK, uncharacteristically, does not respond. After a moment, Mammon deflates a little, then sighs.

“Let’s go outside, eh?” He asks, softer now. “We can take a walk around the gardens, where it’s quiet.”

A brief silence. Then IK says quietly, “Okay.”

Diavolo withdraws his wings, and offers what he hopes is a warm smile. Mammon spares him a dismissive wave, but IK makes an effort to smile back before she’s led away.

It isn’t long before he’s pulled back to the party, but the whole matter stays on his mind through the rest of the retreat. That same night, a certain unruly group of demons and humans get trapped in the underground catacombs, and he’s there to greet them when they finally stumble out.

He watches Zhao gently push his daughter in front of him once they say farewell to Henry and step back through into the castle. IK, on the other hand, doesn’t look at her father at all, and speeds up to walk with Leviathan at the front of the group, staring straight ahead even as he continues to watch her anxiously from behind.

Two days later, as he sees the guests out as they head back to the House of Lamentation, he stops IK briefly. Mammon stops as well, but remains a good few feet away - not eavesdropping too obviously, but evidently unwilling to leave them unsupervised.

“Feel free to come over whenever you like,” He says with a smile. “It gets a little boring around here sometimes, you know?”

“...sure.”

——

“You know, I’m beginning to think that you aren’t coming here just for my company,” Diavolo says when Mammon shows up with IK for the fourth time this week.

“Eh? What makes ya think that?” Mammon ushers her into the entrance hall and glances surreptitiously behind himself before following. “We’re just havin’ so much fun. Ain’t that right, kiddo?”

IK looks mildly anxious and doesn’t reply. A moment later, Barbatos arrives to greet the guests - wearing a hospitable smile that has begun to look rather quizzical the more he has to use it.

“Welcome… back,” He says after a moment - allowing himself to exchange a look with Diavolo. “Would you like anything?”

“Oh, we were thinkin’ of just going around the gardens again.” Mammon coughs and gives IK a hard pat on the shoulder. “Ya don’t mind, right?”

“Certainly not. We can take an extra long walk today - I’m rather in want of things to do.”

“Then I shall clean in the meantime,” Barbatos says - notably not reminding Diavolo of the extra deadlines he could be preparing for with the free time. “Perhaps you would like to take tea afterwards?”

He glances at the back of IK’s head, then gives Diavolo another look. He gets the message; his butler, in a somewhat quietly bewildered way, is concerned.

“That would be lovely, Barbatos,” He says with a smile. “What do you say, IK? I seem to recall that you liked the shortcake last week.”

She doesn’t respond until Mammon nudges her. “Um— sure, thanks.”

Barbatos bows and retreats back into the castle. Diavolo turns to his guests with a smile. “Well, to the garden we go!”

It doesn’t escape his notice how the two of them keep their conversation to a whisper. Diavolo’s well used to not understanding inside jokes or keeping out of the fluent arguments the brothers have with each other, but this is different. Mammon is doing roughly all of the talking; IK only gives half-hearted shrugs and shakes of her head in response.

He keeps a count from the corner of his eye, and by the time they’ve gone in a full circle around the hedgerows, IK has laughed exactly once. That’s the sharpest dip there’s been in any of these visits, and by the looks of it, the number isn’t about to go up.

“I’m feeling a little tired,” He lies as they come to a pond. “Would you mind if we sat down for a while?”

He invites IK to sit by the water with him. He still hasn’t gotten around to adding any fish, but IK seems happy to just watch it ripple.

Mammon is watching him unusually closely from IK’s other side. Diavolo’s known for a while that he can be much more observant than he’s given credit for, but it feels odd to be the subject of his scrutiny. Clearly he’ll be reprimanded if he goes about this the wrong way.

“You’re not actually tired, are you?” IK asks after a moment. “You want to talk to me about something.”

…and clearly he isn’t very subtle. Diavolo admits it readily. “You’re right. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine.”

The speed of the response only makes him worry more. A look at Mammon’s face says that he feels the same way.

“It’s starting to feel like you spend more time here than at the House of Lamentation.” IK looks up at him blankly, and he panics a little. “Not that I don’t enjoy your company, of course!”

IK stares at him for another long moment. Like her father, she avoids meeting anyone’s eyes - but when she does, it’s so intense that it almost burns.

“Uh, we should go,” Mammon says uncomfortably, starting to get to his feet. “Thanks for the—”

“I have to insist you stay,” Diavolo interrupts, and even Mammon can’t refuse a direct command from him. “It’s my duty to ensure your well-being. Whatever it is, I’d like to help.”

“You can’t,” IK says forcefully. Though she doesn’t say it, her voice silently adds, You wouldn’t get it.

It’s a sentiment that Diavolo’s grown accustomed to, whether spoken or implied. His position is one-of-a-kind - most demons don’t believe they have much in common with a crown prince, and the demons that might consider him a friend don’t believe they do, either.

In most ways, it’s a fair assessment. He doesn’t live like most demons, and he’ll never know what it had been like to fall. He does, however, know what it’s like to have a father.

“It’s not easy to put into words, is it?” He asks softly.

IK looks at him for another longer, then turns her head stiffly to the side, and goes back to staring into the water.

Mammon is watching her with the same expression that Zhao had worn as they left the catacombs. He’s seen it before on Lucifer as well, when he thinks no one is looking, and one of his brothers is in an unusual amount of trouble.

“They’ll always worry,” He says. “Not always in ways that are helpful - sometimes in ways that hurt. Even if you don’t want them to.”

IK sighs. “...he never worried like that before. He wasn’t around to worry. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

“He loves you a lot.”

“I know.”

“But it doesn’t change things, does it?”

“...no.”

They listen to the splash of the pond.

“My father loved me,” Diavolo says after a while. “I’m sure of that. When I was born, I flew down to meet him, when most young demons still don’t know how to use their wings. He was proud that day. But I didn’t grow to be a perfect son - nor a perfect heir. I never found out which he wanted more.”

IK glances at him through the reflection in the water. He continues, “I still loved him, as most sons do. It was enough for a time. But then I grew up - and I’m not sure if we ever liked each other after that. I’m not sure if I loved him more than I feared him, either.”

“If you hadn’t flown,” IK says, “Do you think it’d all be the same?”

He smiles ruefully at her. “...I don’t know. But I think I’ve made peace with that.”

IK nods. She knows exactly what’s going through his head.

“Man,” Mammon mutters a few moments later. “What am I even s’posed to say about that?”

Diavolo jumps a little. To be honest, he’d forgotten he was there. “Oh…”

“To be honest, ya never really think about what ‘Father’ means when you’re an angel,” Mammon adds, and Diavolo wisely decides to stay quiet. “He’s just there. He’s just ‘Father’. I mean, you’re meant to love him or somethin’, but I never saw him, did I? So when Lucifer told us he was startin’ a rebellion, I joined in, and I never missed him. Father, I mean.”

“But Lucifer did. That was the weird part. He took Michael real seriously when he was younger, and I reckon that’s why - he believed in all that stuff about Father lovin’ us all so much. But I never thought about it that hard, ‘cause it never felt like anythin’ real, you know? He was ‘Father’, but he wasn’t really a father. At least, I never felt like it.”

He pauses to consider it. “...it’s like that with Lucifer, sometimes. You know he loves ya, but sometimes you just don’t see it, no matter how many times ya remind yourself. But he’s tryin’ his best, y’know? He doesn’t know how else to do it.”

IK stares silently at the pond. Diavolo does the same, and suddenly spots that exact same worry from before on his face as well.

“Uh... your dads are a lot worse than mine.” She makes an attempt at an ironic smile. “We’re just regular humans. There isn’t a lot to say.”

“I think that’s precisely why there is,” Diavolo replies. “Humour us, won’t you?”

“...fine.”

IK folds her arms and ducks her head in earnest, using her hair as a shield for her face. On the surface of the water, Diavolo regards the dull defeat in her eyes.

“My dad’s the best,” She says suddenly. “He works harder than anyone. I’m glad he’s here because he gets to rest. But he isn’t resting. He thinks I still need taking care of. But I don’t. I don’t need him to worry about me, I don’t need him to look after me. I know how to do that by myself.”

She swipes her sleeve fiercely across her face, then continues forcefully, “I used to make him carry me around everywhere. It was the first thing he did when he got back, no matter how tired he was. Sometimes he just fell because he didn’t have the energy, and we'd just lie on the floor for a bit."

“And I was always waiting for him to come home. I was always waiting for him to pick me up again. Because I needed him, and sometimes he wasn’t there when I looked for him, but he’d come if I waited long enough. But now he’s just there. He’s just there and he’s—”

(—she looks just like him when she’s about to cry—)

“—he’s the best and I hate him. I was tired, too. I didn’t know how to make my bed or tie my shoes or anything. So I had to learn everything by myself. He kept telling me to leave it all to him, but then I could only go back to waiting, so what else was I supposed to do?”

“I can take care of myself. I don’t need his help anymore. Why couldn’t he have taught me in the first place? I just wanted my dad. He fought to have me, but he couldn’t fight to stay with me, and I know why, so I can’t even get angry.”

She tosses a rock into the pond. The splash breaks the reflection of her face into hundreds of rippling pieces. Mammon chews anxiously on his lip and places a hesitant arm around her shoulder.

“I’m probably making him sad,” She says finally. “But I don’t know what to do anymore.”

A moment passes. Diavolo knows better than to try the same thing as Mammon. Instead, he takes a breath, shifts form, and curls a wing around her instead.

He glances into the pond one more time. The cool water makes his eyes look more yellow than gold - just like his father’s.

Diavolo doesn’t recall ever being folded into his father’s wings like this. He only remembers hiding in them by himself. But his father had never told him not to, either.

“I think… this is a decision only you can make,” He says after a moment. “There isn’t a right or wrong answer. But, for what it’s worth - you’re still young. Nothing is irreparable. And I think your father will wait for as long as it takes.”

“No rush,” Mammon adds with a supportive nudge. “As long as you’re happy, okay? We’ll be alright.”

“Sure,” IK mutters. If she believes them even a little, then Diavolo is happy with that. “...can we talk about something else now?”

“I think Barbatos will be done with his sweeping by now,” Diavolo says, and gets back to his feet. “Let’s go have some cake, shall we?”

#3rd anni event #writing #obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me mammon #jtta ik #it takes two

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starsandgutters · 10 days

Note

Kevaaron Mind meld/telepathy/mind reading sounds very intriguing if I can request one still? Hope you’re having an amazing day!! 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

—💖💖

Hello I’m still chipping through requests just 🥲 y’know 🥲 actual job and half marathon training eating my time, how DARE ! 😤

4. Mind meld/telepathy/mind reading [read on ao3]

I made this a Misfits AU so I didn’t have to come up with any logical or scientific reasoning for the telepathy hehe (if you’re unfamiliar with Misfits it’s a show where a load of young offenders get superpowers from a freak storm and each week get into Some Shenanigans involving said powers - also the power you get is based on a regret or character flaw. Like the guy who gets invisibility feels really overlooked and left out, or the guy who has the power to go back in time was a really promising athlete who made a career destroying mistake and wishes he could undo it. You don’t really need any previous knowledge for this - that’s just some fun bonus context!)

Due to the nature of this AU the content warnings are a bit mad this time lmao

CWs: Discussion of food/eating habits/implied disordered eating/food criticism Okay this one is WILD as a CW because it is not explicitly what it says but I HAVE to warn anyway - Implied non-consent, including between family members (this is only in one brief flashback of Nicky’s power, and it is stopped before anything happens. Nicky is also unknowing and unwilling as he wasn’t yet aware of his power) (hopefully if you read my writing you trust me enough to know I’m not throwing in a Macauley twins style twist) Brief mention digit loss (non permanent) References to violence in the Nest (waterboarding, SA, Nathan, Riko breaking a Kevin’s hand) References to Aaron’s trauma (child abuse, drug use, bathroom rehab, Thanksgiving) Non explicit sexual content

“Can you stop talking to me about exy right now? Practice is over. I no longer care.”

“I need you to care. We have a game this week-”

“And so I will care on Friday.”

“Aaron!”

“I have an important assignment due before then. Do you care about that?”

“It’s different.”

“Right, yeah. Different. As long as it’s only important to you.”

“No. Exy and school are separate. I do far more training than you and still get better grades.”

“You do a humanities subject,” Aaron hisses, turning sharply on his heel and poking Kevin in the chest. It always irritates him when Kevin mentions his better grades. “It is easier to get better grades in, and you’re just barely doing better than me.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Kevin gives Aaron a shove in the chest to send him back. Aaron glares at him.

“Watch me try even less in exy,” he says, and Kevin lurches after him. Aaron reaches up to grab his hands before he can shove him again, and they’re so busy tussling they walk right into someone. Aaron jolts as he gets a static shock. From the way Kevin leaps back, Aaron guesses he also felt it.

“Oh.” The girl stumbles back, looking up at them with big dark eyes widened in surprise. Her water bottle has fallen from her hand.

“Why on this whole path were you right in front of us?” Kevin snaps in the few seconds it takes him to remember he is Kevin Day. Aaron is already ducking down to grab her water bottle for her.

“He means sorry,” Aaron says, glowering over his shoulder at Kevin. His face softens fractionally when he looks back to the girl. “We weren’t paying attention.”

He hands her bottle back to her and she gives him a timid smile.

“That’s okay,” she says. “Easily done.”

She glances between the two of them, and her smile grows. It makes the skin on the back of Aaron’s neck tighten. He wonders if she’s recognising who they are, but she just side steps out of their way.

“Have a fun night.” She walks off swiftly, giggling to herself.

Have a ‘fun’ night? Fuckin’ weird choice of words, but okay. Can’t believe this asshole couldn’t even get an apology out before she left.

“You already apologised! Why would I have to do it too?”

“What?”

Aaron winces as he feels something in his head. Like a pulsing shape of irritation. A cloudy, dark area of his brain taken over by it before it melds back into what feels like the normal shape.

“You said I didn’t even get an apology out.”

“No I didn’t.”

Does he think I’m stupid? I just heard him.

Aaron can hear Kevin’s words, but his mouth is not moving. He blinks, then narrows his eyes, staring hard at him. What the fuck?

“What?”

“I didn’t say anything!”

Oh for fuck sake, I don’t have time for-

“Stop playing.”

“Kevin!” Aaron reaches up and grabs Kevin’s face in his hands. Kevin tries to pull away, but Aaron holds tighter.

His hands are always so cold what is he doing now what is-

Kevin. Look at me. Do you see my mouth moving?

What is he talking about?

“No. So what, this a new trick of your power or something?”

Is that music? Why can I hear music? Where is that coming from?

The music is coming from Aaron, who never manages to hold just one thought at a time. Even as he is trying to think direct messages at Kevin, there’s a background list of everything he needs to get done tonight before he goes to bed, an absent pondering about what he’s going to eat when he gets back to the dorm, and whatever song is currently stuck in his head playing random fragments on loop.

Kevin. Focus. You’re hearing the music from me.

“I didn’t say-”

Anything. You didn’t say anything, you thought it. As I am thinking this. (Fuck his jawline is so sharp I swear I could cut my palms on it) That’s what I’m trying to get across.

Wait. Stop. Slow down.

“Seriously? You’re hearing my thoughts right now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

How?!

I don’t know man probably more of this weird storm shit. It’s always powers (power, power, I still need to get a better grasp on mine before the next game or I’m going to-) when something starts acting up isn’t it?

“Why are yours so fast?”

I don’t know that’s just how I think (fuck was I supposed to email that back today I think so did I actually do it wait yes I did it before-) it doesn’t feel fast to me

“Can you stop jumping around?”

“What are you talking about?”

“When you’re thinking? It’s like multiple voices at once.”

“Yeah, but I just focus on the main one, the others are background noise most of the time. Like thoughts I think without really focusing on them.”

He’s insane.

I’m not insane! It’s not my fault you’re too stupid (his eyes are so fucking green in this lighting) to keep up

“Why are you thinking about my eyes?”

“What?” Aaron feels himself immediately flush.

There it is. The Aaron Minyard blush. Adorable.

“Shut up! I’m not adorable.”

“I wasn’t- Aaron, you can’t just hide when you don’t want to have a conversation.”

Aaron looks down at his hand, but all he sees is the ground. Fuck. His power kicking in without his control again. He looks up at Kevin, who is glaring above his head. Heh. Go invisible and he suddenly thinks I’m taller. (God please let this be only a Kevin thing if I have to hear what Andrew thinks about Josten I’m going to kill myself, and I don’t even want to think what Nicky-)

“I can still hear your thoughts, Aaron. You can’t really hide.” Seconded on Nicky. Maybe we should stick to this so people don’t think I’m a weirdo talking to myself.

I don’t want to (he didn’t mean it like that he was being a dick obviously get over yourself) talk to you anyway

Aaron takes off at a swift stride back towards the dorm. He’s happy to find that just as if Kevin were calling after him, the voice in his head gets quieter the further away he moves.

Don’t be childish. Aaron? Aaron! Have you left-

Realising this, Aaron tightens his grip on his bag and starts to jog. His body is already aching from practice, but the desire to escape Kevin Day is a great driving motivator. He runs until the only voice he can hear in his head anymore is his, and as he slows down to catch his breath, his body flickers back into visibility.

Kevin makes his way back to the dorms in a mood. Thankfully, he does not hear the thoughts of anyone he passes on his way there. Which means either this only works for people he knows, or it is tied specifically to Aaron. Aaron who he just thought was adorable. Kevin needs to try and keep a lid on thoughts like those if Aaron can now tune into his frequency. Thankfully Aaron took it as an insult and did his little invisibility bit. Kevin’s not sure what he would have said if Aaron had confronted him about it. How can you lie when someone’s in your head?

As per evidence found in (god I’m so tired I wish I could go to bed my body actually hurts with it) we can draw the conclusion that (and my eyes are burning wait shit I forgot to eat when I came in okay no don’t stop stopping is the enemy just try and get three more paragraphs finished food can be your reward) these findings suggest (that’s a waste of words you already implied that)

Kevin hears Aaron’s running internal dialogue as he makes his way up the stairs in Fox Tower, growing louder the closer he gets to their dorm. Of course Aaron was so focused on getting to his work he forgot to eat. If only he applied that focus to exy.

Get out of my head Kevin.

Get out of mine.

He hears some mental grumbling from Aaron as he tries to pull his attention back to task, but there’s a background insecurity running beneath his thoughts now of Kevin might still be listening don’t think anything weird don’t think that either he’ll be wondering what weird things you think about oh my god stop. Kevin has to really focus to pick it up beneath the chaotic mess of Aaron’s other thoughts. He doesn’t understand how he can exist with so much going on in his head, but slowly Kevin is learning that if he does just focus in on the main thought, the others sink more into background noise.

For his part, Kevin is thinking about this week's game as he goes about the kitchen making himself dinner. He’s pulling up stats in his head, marking weaknesses, implementing potential strategies. He’s already got notes on it all, but he’ll run through it countless times mentally before they actually have the game. As he makes himself up a salad, he pulls out a second plate and makes Aaron a sandwich, using some of his salad for the filling and then adding cheese and meat from the fridge.

“Are you trying to keep me out of your thoughts or do you really just think about exy nonstop?” If so that is so sad.

“Shut up.” I made you a sandwich.

You made me a sandwich?

Yes. You forgot to eat. Now you can keep working on your assignment.

“Oh.” That’s uncharacteristically nice of him (does he want something is this a bribe-)

“It’s not a bribe. I just think you should eat, especially after training.” To aid recovery.

“Thanks.” You know if you want to aid recovery (he never eats enough) you really need protein and some carbs (I don’t know how he keeps going) to replace what you burned (I wish he’d take better care of himself)

“I take care of myself.” Take better care of myself than you do. I eat healthy

Healthy food is only one part of diet you still need to eat enough

I don’t remember asking for your commentary on my diet

Yeah I’m not giving it (I’m just worried about you idiot) you’re just listening to my thoughts

You don’t have to worry about me

“I don’t.” I can’t help it

“The stoic act doesn’t really work when I can hear what you’re thinking.” I like that he worries about me oh he’s blushing again

“Fuck off.” FUCK OFF! Aaron turns bright pink and then disappears. He reaches out and lifts the plate, taking his sandwich and walking back to the bedroom. The plate appears to float from Kevin’s perspective. Aaron slams the door behind him. Stupid annoying Kevin let him starve for all I care (he made you a sandwich) I can’t deal with this (he wanted you to eat too) this is supposed to be the one place that is mine and now I can’t even have my own brain (it sounds nice when you hear his thoughts all low and close and intimate-) Stop.

Kevin feels a shiver of heat in his stomach. A sudden flush of arousal from nowhere, like hot wax dripping down over him. He shifts his shoulders as if he can shrug it off, shaking his head and sitting with his salad at the island. He’s trying to focus back in on exy but all he can think about now is Aaron, and the flush running down his neck, and how he wants Kevin to take care of himself, and how apparently he likes hearing my thoughts.

Get. Out. Of. My. HEAD!

Kevin winces at the sudden volume blast, but it doesn’t stop his train of thoughts. Thinking of how this would be so good if they were together. How Kevin would be able to get immediate feedback on Aaron’s response to his touches. He really should not be going down this track, since Aaron can hear his thoughts, but the more Kevin tries to think of something else the more he thinks about Aaron beneath him, his mouth to Aaron’s throat, his fingers-

The door to the bedroom slams against the wall with the force it is swung open. Kevin jolts. The doorway is empty, but he can almost see the ominous aura coming from around Aaron’s invisible form. Or maybe he can just sense the irritation in his thoughts so clearly it seems like that.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He hears the words twice, spoken and thought, and Kevin panics. Shit shit shit he knew Aaron wouldn’t appreciate it if he knew Kevin was harbouring those kinds of thoughts about him, but he never thought Aaron would actually know. “Kevin.”

Air catches in Kevin’s chest. Everything constricts. The panic of his anxiety a sharp, tight sensation, except then there is a drop in his stomach, and oh. Not just anxiety. His power kicking into play. Kevin feels himself fall backwards. When he lands in time again, he’s back on his feet, and Aaron’s sandwich is floating away from him. The bedroom door slams. (it sounds nice when you hear his thoughts all low and close and intimate-) Stop.

Kevin feels the same warmth drip over him, but this time he immediately brings up an old game on his laptop and puts on his headphones. It doesn’t fully silence Aaron out, he still catches snippets of his essay here and there, and the other random seemingly disconnected thoughts he bounces between, but it’s easier to make it background noise when Kevin has his own attention focused on something else.

When Nicky comes back and starts moving around the kitchen, Kevin slides one earphone off and listens to him chatter. He looks at Nicky’s face. His mouth is definitely moving. Those are the only words Kevin is hearing.

Seems to be just Aaron. Then Kevin tries to aim his thoughts towards the bedroom. He has no idea if this actually works, but he visualises it anyway. Can you hear Nicky?

Just you. Distracting me. Again.

So you don’t want me to tell you he brought pastries that you both should absolutely not be eating at this time of the night.

The door to the bedroom opens. Aaron is visible once more and has changed into his pyjamas. His hair is a ruffled mess from where he’s been running his hands through it in stress, a gesture Kevin has seen him do countless times, and he’s wearing his glasses. He looks soft and ruffled and painfully adorable. Aaron flips him off, ears turning pink again.

“Aaron! I got apple turnovers,” Nicky says, and Aaron beelines around the counter, nudging Kevin with his elbow on his way past. Aaron holds his hands out demandingly. Nicky sets the box on the counter and carefully slides it across to him to avoid making any contact, as Nicky’s power is touch activated, and absolutely not the kind of touch he wants to use on his cousins. There had been a whole thing before he realised what it was, involving Andrew attacking him when he accidentally touched Neil, which had turned to…

Well. Considering Andrew’s power is also touch activated, it had not been good. Neil had been dazed when he broke free from Nicky’s power, and Kevin had been stunned by the whole turn of events. Only Aaron, overlooked and invisible in the background, the first to realise there was something up with them, had been able to use his invisibility to his benefit and break them apart before anything went further. Nicky had cried, and Andrew had disappeared for a full night and most of the following day with Neil. Nicky had tried to apologise on their return, but Andrew shut him down and refused to talk about it.

“Do not use that on anyone else,” he had seethed, teeth bared, and Nicky tried his best not to. An accidental brush of skin was usually recoverable, people would just glance his way with interest, but if Nicky got a hold of someone or vice versa on bare skin…

Kevin doesn’t really know what the official name for Nicky’s power would be, but basically whoever is in his thrall becomes very determined to fuck him. Whether Nicky wants them to or not. His power does not come with an off switch.

After Andrew stormed off and Nicky hid himself in his room confused and upset, Aaron had reappeared with considerable frostbite on his hand. Aaron blinking into existence weirdly seemed like the least upsetting part of the evening, but it had taken too long with everything else happening, and he ended up losing two fingers to the frost damage.

Which activated Kevin’s power. So the next time it happened - and really, Kevin could have lived with only going through that night once, thanks - he was able to draw attention to Aaron before Andrew left. This meant Andrew could drop them at Abby’s on the way to wherever he was going. He did not speak, and he did not apologise for almost freezing Aaron’s hand off, but the fact he took them when he clearly just wanted to get as far away from everyone as possible immediately said enough.

Shouldn’t be eating those, Kevin thinks chidingly, but he keeps his mouth shut. Aaron glares at him as he bites the corner of his.

Mind your business (oh god that’s good)

Kevin is the one to flush this time. He feels his cheeks heat, though his skin tone hides any outward sign of it, at least. Nicky is saying something to Aaron but Kevin isn’t paying attention past Aaron’s fucking mental foodgasm, apparently. For someone so stoic, Kevin would not have guessed there is so much going on under the surface.

You know what they say about assume. Aaron glances sideways at Kevin as he licks cream from the centre of his apple turnover. Kevin’s gaze locks onto the flash of pink tongue as it pushes between the layers of flaky pastry. The hint of green from his tongue stud. There’s sugar crystals on Aaron’s top lip. He drags his tongue out, cream on the tip of it, and Kevin’s mind of course leaps to various other scenarios. Aaron abruptly lowers the pastry, looking at Kevin with an appalled expression.

What the fuck-

Jolt in his stomach. Feeling of falling. Still in the kitchen with Nicky and Aaron, but a handful of seconds back.

Oh god that’s good

Kevin turns away from Aaron before he starts licking cream this time, closing up his laptop and gathering his things, done for the night.

“Do you want one, Kevin?” Nicky shakes the box at him. Kevin shakes his head.

Coward

How am I a coward for not wanting to eat that sugary abomination?

You just are (worry about how bad his eating is going to get when he’s alone)

There’s nothing wrong with my eating and I’ll have a meal plan when I go pro anyway

Whatever (will anyone actually check if he follows it)

Kevin flicks Aaron in the forehead as he walks past him. Aaron ducks away, then bats at Kevin’s hand, too slow.

You are so annoying

Kevin ignores Aaron and goes to get ready for bed. He’s already tucked in by the time Aaron and Nicky come through. Nicky collapses into his bed and crashes out fairly quickly. Kevin’s usually the same, but tonight he has to deal with Aaron’s constantly overlapping trains of thoughts.

Did I pack for the right classes tomorrow? (Will Katelyn want to go to the library between classes?) Pretty sure I checked (wait what day is tomorrow) maybe I should go for a run in the morning (calves kind of aching after practice, might help) Hope my stupid power doesn’t activate during this week's game (what am I supposed to do if it does) ugh wait tomorrow is Wednesday session day (wonder if Andrew will even look at me this week)

Can you shut up?

Not talking

Is this why you’re always up so late? How do you ever sleep when it’s all so constant

Usually just hit the point of exhaustion and pass out

That can’t be healthy

You’re one to talk

I sleep!

So go to sleep now and leave me alone (should try and sleep eyes are burning was so tired earlier why can I never shut off when I want)

Aaron.

It’s weird when you do that

What?

Think my name right in my head. Weird.

How is it weird?

Just feels weird. Kevin.

Yes okay I understand.

Kevin Kevin Keviiin (kind of weird that we just make noises and those are our names and we respond to our unique set of noises)(and that there are so many dialects and languages and how they developed so differently)

It’s interesting

Yes (can you imagine if everyone had telepathy)

That sounds like a nightmare

Absolutely

This is unideal but out of everyone on the team I think having this with you is probably the best scenario. It would be helpful to have this kind of communication with Neil on the court but otherwise I would hate to know what’s going on in his head

Oh yeah god no. I do NOT need to know what that freak is thinking about

Especially since a lot of it would probably be about Andrew-

Stop. (might be interesting to know what Andrew is thinking but if I had to hear about Josten-) Shut up. (wonder what he thinks about me) Shhh shh shh. (probably don’t want to know)

I don’t think Andrew would think anything bad about you

Go to bed (probably doesn’t think about me at all)

I’m in bed

Then go to sleep

I would if you’d stop thinking so loud

Can’t help it

Yeah. I know.

Kevin rolls over to face the room. He can’t see Aaron in the dark, but he hears the shift of Aaron’s bed, imagines them rolling to face each other. He closes his eyes and lets the cotton warmth of sleep start to descend over him. It takes longer than usual, Aaron’s constant stream of thought an irritating background radio frequency, but Kevin tries to extend out the tired feeling in his head until eventually he drops off.

Weird images are flashing across Aaron’s mind. He’s somewhere dark, and there’s a glow of red lights which makes it look even darker. He doesn’t like that. He’s following long corridors, trying to find his way out, feeling like he is trapped in a labyrinth. Every time he opens a different door, he sees something he doesn’t want to.

He opens one door. It’s a bathroom. Jean Moreau is under a flow of water. Riko is holding his hair to keep him in place. He puts a cloth over Jean’s face and Jean’s body convulses as he tries to breathe. Aaron staggers back out of the room. He races down the corridor to the next room. He can’t see in this one, but there are hands on him. He does not want them to touch him, but he has the knowledge that he has to let it happen whether he wants to or not. Aaron fights his way through to another door and stumbles into the corridor again.

Neil Josten is in the third room. That is what Aaron thinks at first glance. An older version of him. But then he realises that there is a younger version of Neil standing beside him, along with a younger version of Riko. So the man currently slicing someone up must be his father.

“Keep watching, Kevin. No looking away,” a voice says, and Aaron’s head snaps back to face what is happening. He wants to cry but he knows if he does he will be punished, so he has to fight it back until later. He can cry when he is alone. That is what he is supposed to do, but there are tears on his cheeks as he backs up towards the door. He doesn’t make it this time. His foot catches on something and he falls backwards, and then Riko is coming towards him, Riko is standing over him, Riko is slamming his foot down on Aaron’s hand and the pain explodes through him, but worse, worse is the knowledge that he is losing everything.

Aaron gasps awake trembling, sweat sticking his shirt to his back. He’s breathing hard like he really has been running. Dim morning light leaks into the room. Nicky is sleeping soundly beneath him, but across the room Kevin’s usual heavy breathing has been replaced with soft sounds of distress.

Kevin. Kevin. Kevin!

Aaron hears Kevin jolt, the start of his own gasp before he muffles it off with his hand to his mouth. Aaron’s limbs are still shaky, but he’s starting to feel steadier now in the knowledge it wasn’t his dream. He’s just getting secondhand effects. Kevin must be feeling much worse.

Riko-

Riko’s gone. You’re safe. You’re at Palmetto. Jean is safe. He got out, he’s with the Trojans. Everything is okay now.

The blood my hand-

Your hand is better now. You’ve trained back the strength in it. You can play with it again. You won your first championship with the Foxes playing with it, remember? You scored the winning goal

Yes

Yeah (that was horrible does he still have nightmares like that often no wonder he’s so anxious)

Not that often anymore

Thank you

It’s okay (was all of that real)

Yes

Even the bit with Josten’s dad?

Yes

That’s fucked up

Yes

Try and get more sleep

Don’t know if I can. Do you want to go for a run?

(not really) Okay

You don’t have to

Let’s go (needs the distraction want to make sure he’s okay tired but always tired anyway)

Aaron drops down out of bed. He has so much to do today. He tries to build a mental to do list as he staggers sleepily around the room, pulling on his running gear. Kevin is still shaken from his nightmare. Aaron keeps getting brief flashes of his thoughts, more images and feelings than words this morning. He bumps his arm against Kevin’s as they head out, letting Kevin set the pace and falling into place beside him.

Always starts off too hard he’ll lose his breathing

Shut up. Kevin is in fact wheezing already. One handy thing about this new connection is they can easily pass thoughts back and forth without having to slow their pace.

Why don’t you go back and stop him? You can do that now you could save your hand

I can’t choose. Can’t control it. I don’t know if I can go back that far, but I also don’t think I want to

No?

If it didn’t happen would I still be stuck there? Would Neil have died if he hadn’t joined the Foxes? Would I spend my whole life stuck in Riko’s shadow?

Seth would have lived

Kevin stumbles. Aaron catches his elbow, steadies him. Kevin jerks away.

That wasn’t targeted at you it was just an automatic thought (don’t be mad) I know Seth wasn’t your fault (don’t yell at me) if anything it was Josten who aggravated Riko but it’s all on him Kevin not you

I know. I wonder sometimes if I could go back and stop that but then would anything play out like it did? How much more do I fuck with the further back I go?

Do you wish you had a different power?

Sometimes

Which?

Something useful like super speed could be good. Would make me better on the court

Oh my god Kevin we’re talking about superpowers and you’re thinking about exy (of course he is)

What about you?

Shapeshifting.

Why?

Taller (so I could be my own person) (and who doesn’t want to look better) (I mean the height wouldn’t hurt) (would Andrew be offended if I changed the way I look) (maybe people would like me better maybe you-)

Right. Of course.

Invisibility is okay (if I could control it) I mean it’s an A list power (people don’t really see me anyway) could be worse (at least it’s not Nicky’s)

Yes I definitely would not want Nicky’s

I think it would be the worst (do most people not want to fuck you anyway)

Not that I’m aware of

That you’re aware of. Aaron gives Kevin a wry side glance. He’s Kevin Day. Of course most people are tripping over themselves for him. Kevin just socialises within a distinct circle that keeps him separate from most of that. Free of anyone who wants him that way. (almost free)

What does that mean?

Nothing sometimes my brain just thinks random words get over it (fuckfuckfuck) I didn’t realise

What?

The extent of the Nest. I knew it was bad but I guess there is no way to describe that kind of thing in a way that catches how it actually feels

Those were only snapshots

I know

I wish you hadn’t seen that

Didn’t mean to (would I want anyone to see-) Aaron’s own memories flash across his mind without permission. His mother lashing out at him, throwing things at him, a bottle shattering against him, a knife sticking in a wall, his tiny child body being shoved so hard into a glass table it breaks beneath him, the pain of his sliced back. Swallowing pills until he felt so sick he was convinced he was going to die. Holding his own over earnest letter with FUCK OFF scrawled over it, returned from Andrew. That first meeting under the too stark fluorescent lights of the detention facility visitor room, Aaron’s fingers picked bloody, Andrew’s narrowed eyes, him reaching across to grip Aaron’s already aching wrist as he asked about the bruises Aaron had failed to cover well enough. Puking his guts up while trapped in the bathroom, sprawled on the ground trembling, curled tight into himself in the tub once again thinking it was over. Walking into that room on Thanksgiving. Alone in the back of a cop car not knowing if Andrew was alright or what was going to happen to him. On the stand, facing a crowd of unfamiliar faces. Stop stop stop stop stop.

Aaron

Don’t look!

Aaron you’re thinking about them I can’t help it

I’m not thinking about them (not on purpose) I don’t want to think about them (stopstopstop) you don’t need to see this (he’s already been through enough with his own)

“Hey.” Kevin stops running. He catches Aaron’s arm. Aaron yanks away from him, but realises that he’s breathing harder than usual. He doesn’t know if he’s sharing Kevin’s anxiety or if his own flashbacks have caused his chest to tighten.

What?

“It’s okay.” You don’t always have to worry about me.

“I’m not.” Can’t help it (breathe just breathe you’re embarrassing yourself)

“Aaron.” It’s okay

“You’re shit at the comforting thing.” So am I

I think you’re quite good at it

“You don’t have to be fake nice.” Stop thinking about it stop thinking about it stop. “Come on. We should finish this run.”

“Aaron.” Are you okay to run?

Yeah I’m fine (you can’t say “jar” I didn’t say it out loud)

Loopholes

Exactly loopholes (breathe just breathe focus on it count your steps breathe out when the left one hits the ground)

Thank you for coming running with me

??? it’s okay (is he feeling better?)

Yes. I am. Thank you.

Good (can I get him to eat this morning)

You concern yourself far too much with my eating habits

No I don’t (if you only knew how much I concern myself with- stop)

Aaron starts thinking about the lyrics of a song. He focuses on it as hard as he can, repeating it over and over again. Bad enough Kevin knows he worries about him not eating enough, he doesn’t need Kevin to know just how far Aaron is concerned with him. He tries not to have any other thoughts as they make their way back, but his brain has never been good at sticking to one thing.

Still need to ask Kate about the library (if I can get five hundred words minimum done today) I need to do laundry (it would be great if I could get to one thousand but how likely is that really) awh shit session day (not likely at all then I cannot be assed with Dobson today) are we going to Columbia this weekend (god I want a hit so bad all this powers shit has me fucked up) really hope I don’t turn invisible during our game (or during class) probably the only time anyone would notice (fuck hope it doesn’t happen at Dobson’s office) my lips are dry I wonder where I put my chapstick

Is he going to relapse?

“What? Of course I’m not.”

“You were just thinking-”

“I think a lot of things. Do you control every thought you have? I don’t act on it. That’s what counts.”

“Okay.”

Should I tell Andrew-

“Do not tell Andrew. What is wrong with you?” Aaron abruptly stops running to glare at Kevin. Well that’s too long to get into, really, isn’t it, Kevin?

“Don’t be a dick.”

“Do you realise the fucking argument you would start over a stray thought. How about I police every stray thought you have?” Aaron steps closer and shoves Kevin hard in the chest, his whole body flush hot with rage. Kevin catches Aaron’s wrist before he can move away, holding him in place as he leans his sweaty face in close to him.

“I wasn’t actually going to do it. That was just a stray thought on my side.” His eyes are always the nicest in the sunshine. Liquid gold.

Aaron goes slack in Kevin’s hold, blinking at him. His mouth works uselessly.

What.

Lips don’t look dry to me. They look soft and pink

Aaron automatically licks his lips.

Fuck. One more time.

Then Kevin is kissing him, and the world feels like it has tilted sideways.

Said I’d stop doing this.

Aaron’s free hand fists in Kevin’s shirt. His brain is still a loud neon scream of ??? and yet he’s not pushing Kevin away.

Is he kissing back?

No. He’s definitely not doing that. Aaron finally shoves Kevin, stepping back from him. What is he doing (is this a joke) why is he doing it (I don’t understand) what does he gain from this (what the fuck) Despite the frantic, frightened tone of Aaron’s thoughts, his expression is furious

“What are you-”

“I think a lot of things. Do you control every thought you have? I don’t act on it. That’s what counts.”

I have to stop doing that.

“Okay.”

Doing what?

“Thinking stupid things,” Kevin says. Aaron’s mouth twitches, the knife edge of a smile that doesn’t quite make it over the precipice. Kevin focuses very hard on not thinking of anything even in the vicinity of the topic of kissing.

So, here’s the thing. It’s not that he intends to keep kissing Aaron and then reversing time so he forgets. Rather the opposite. Kevin has told himself he will absolutely not kiss Aaron ever again, as he never reacts well, and yet every time they get riled up, or in each other’s space, or Aaron looks at him all sleepy and soft, or anything that happened during any of the seven previous occurrences, Kevin finds himself leaning in. He feels like he’s going a bit insane, because sometimes he’s convinced Aaron is looking at his mouth, or he’s the one leaning in first, and on at least four of those occasions Kevin swears Aaron kissed him back, but then he always draws back with his flushed cheeks, narrowed eyes, angry eyebrows, and Kevin stumbles back in time before he even has the chance to hear what Aaron is going to say.

He’s not running on purpose. At this point he’d kind of like to have it over with and out of the way so he stops ending up in situations where it happens again. Surely if Aaron gets really, truly angry at him once, then there will be a safe boundary between them going forward. Unless Aaron hates him for it, and stops talking to him, and this is exactly the line of thought that keeps triggering Kevin’s power.

He’s thinking about it now that he’s alone in the dorm, everyone else out at afternoon classes. Aaron currently too far away to be prying into his thoughts. Except it’s a depressing line of thought, and his brain doesn’t want that, so it starts thinking about what would happen if Aaron did kiss him back. If Aaron kept kissing him, hands in Kevin’s hair, body pressed forward against Kevin’s hips - Kevin initially thinks of their hips pressed together but logistically this would not work with Aaron’s vertical challenges, so he shifts them to a seat where Aaron can straddle Kevin - strong thighs squeezing around Kevin’s legs, breath warm in Kevin’s mouth.

Kevin checks the time. He should have at least a good hour before anyone gets back. He moves to the bathroom just in case, pushing his sweats down low over his hips. He leans back against the wall, thinking of Aaron again, lost in the fantasy. He’s thinking of how their telepathy would add to it. How Aaron gives so little away outwardly, but now Kevin has this secret window, he can see exactly how good he makes him feel. Because Kevin would, of course. It’s his fantasy. He can be the queen of exy AND sex if he wants to be. Then he’s thinking about Aaron’s power - anything Aaron has on disappears with him, but if he lifts something new it doesn’t - and wondering if he would be able to see himself if Aaron were blowing him. He’d be in the hot warmth of his mouth, but would it just look like bucking against air? As much as Kevin would absolutely rather see Aaron, it’s kind of a turn on to think about. He thinks about using his own power to go back and watch Aaron orgasm over and over again, luxuriating in the fact Kevin brought him that pleasure. Though Aaron wouldn’t really benefit, as he wouldn’t remember-

What the fuck are you thinking about?

Kevin freezes.

How can you hear me from class

Professor cancelled. There’s a bang as the front door slams closed. Kevin frantically pulls his trousers back on, even though it’s not like Aaron can see.

Fuck fuck fuck

Aaron feels ablaze. It had confused him why, as he got closer to the Tower, as he trudged his way up the stairs to the dorm, there was a building sense of arousal curling in his low stomach. Considering his only thoughts - beyond being fucking annoyed the professor couldn’t give them a heads up before he walked all the way across campus to his stupid class - before were that at least he’d have an extra hour to work on his assignment. He’s hoping to finish it up tonight. Except then there had been images of Kevin, and Aaron thought they were absent background thoughts at first. Irritating, but not entirely unusual. He has, unfortunately, been thinking about Kevin in that kind of way as of late.

Except it felt weirdly like he was in Kevin’s place in the thoughts. Rather than his own. Looking at a vision of himself that Aaron did not entirely recognise. His hair definitely doesn’t fall as neatly as that, or look as golden in colour, and he doesn’t have as many freckles sprinkled across his nose. His shoulders are not that broad, and there’s an awkward blockiness to his sides, not the softness of the version he was seeing in his head. Which is when it occurred to him that it was not, in fact, his own weird thoughts.

Can’t just hide in the bathroom forever… can I? He’ll get bored eventually.

Kevin. Aaron thinks it because he does not trust himself to say it right now. His face is burning up. He presses a hand over it. This can’t be happening (oh my god) I can’t deal with this right now (and we have training in like three fucking hours) why was he (doesn’t mean anything) I don’t understand (can’t wouldn’t obviously) I just (why was it kind of) how the fuck am I supposed to (hot)

Aaron bangs his fist against the door.

Go away

Open up

No. Go away.

Kevin. Aaron bangs the door again, trying the handle. It opens. Kevin forgot to lock it in his… ponderings.

“What are you-”

Kevin’s just sliding his sweatpants down when he jolts back in time. He pulls them firmly up again, splashes cold water on his face, and runs to be sitting in a normal position by the time Aaron reaches the dorm.

“Why are you just sitting in here in silence?” Did he have another panic attack after yesterday

“Just tired. We need to do something about this.”

“About what?”

This. It’s not good.

Obviously

We have to work out what happened and how to stop it

“You’re very insistent all of a sudden.” There is something rotten (you want it gone too) at your very core (this is a good thing) and everyone senses it eventually (obviously why would you want to keep this) and no one wants to know you when they see the rot (think what happened before this started) and no one will ever stick around if they see the real you (we were leaving practice-)

“Aaron.”

“What?”

That’s not true

“What’s not true?” We were leaving practice, and we were arguing.

“You’re not- There’s not-” There’s nothing wrong with you.

How about you mind my own business and we don’t talk about things you hear in my head (and then there was the girl) WAIT !

THE GIRL !

Woah, that was weird

We haven’t thought the same thing at the same time before

“She must have done something.” Felt like static when I touched her

Same

“How do we find her?” I don’t even remember what she looked like

Of course you don’t. I do we’ll just have to look around campus (really need to finish that assignment)

“Can you picture her in your head? As clear as you can remember.”

“Uh. Sure.” Aaron scrunches up his nose, and Kevin sees a girl take form. Her face shifts and melts and morphs as Aaron changes his mind about details. She has dark hair cut into a shag and big, dark brown eyes that are the central feature of her face. Narrow nose, thin lips, smudge of mascara under one eye. Kevin wonders if Aaron actually remembers this clearly or if he’s invented some of it.

“Okay. You work on your assignment, I’ll go…” walk around and see if I can find her I guess

Is he the best one to handle this after being so rude to her

“Hey!”

“Well you were.” Didn’t even apologise (probably why she did this)

“That’s victim blaming, Aaron.” Maybe she shouldn’t have been right in our way. It was a big path

“Whatever. Are you sure you’ll be alright on your own?” He gets so anxious

“Yes.” Maybe

Ugh I have time (a bit) I can probably leave my assignment to later (just stay up tonight) could look until practice

“No. I’ve got this.” Trust me with something

“Okay.” Call if you need anything

“Telephone or tele-pathy.”

“That was terrible.” At least he makes jokes now (his stupid dorky smile is so cu-) APPLE BOTTOM JEANS BOOTS WITH THE FUR (WITH THE FUR)

Ugh.

“Right. See you in a bit.” Kevin winces as Aaron continues to blast the song in his head, making his way towards the door. He jogs towards the main campus building and stalks his way through halls, glancing in the windows of classes, doing a lap of the library. He doesn’t even know what year the girl is or what she’s studying, so he has no idea of where to look for her. Over an hour later he gives up and heads dejectedly back towards the dorm.

No luck

Fuck (what if we’re stuck like this) it’s okay (I guess it won’t matter after he graduates) we’ll likely see her again at some point (but that’s a long time to have someone in my head)

Worry about it later. Get ready for practice now.

Oh fuck off

Their newfound connection, Kevin discovers, really serves them on the court.

Behind you left shoulder

Aaron turns just in time to block Neil coming up from his blind spot. Kevin can feel the wordless burst of his delighted pride, and it makes his own chest swell, because Aaron is enjoying exy! He can’t hide. Kevin is there in his head, and he can’t lie about hating it all the time anymore.

Yeah yeah. Quick turn quarter clockwise

Kevin turns and catches one of the freshmen trying to pass around him. He flicks his racquet against theirs with enough force to knock it unsteady in their hands. The ball falls loose and Kevin catches it in his net. He fights down a smile as his and Aaron’s thoughts overlap.

It’s like being able to see all around

It’s like having eyes in the back of your head

Think you can catch this?

No way you can send it that far

Go to your right I’m going to change angle last second

As several of the younger Foxes scramble to Kevin’s right, thinking his left hand will send the ball that way, he swaps hands last second and fires it down the court towards the corner that is left for him, but to Aaron’s right. Aaron’s moving before Kevin even passes, which gives him time to gauge the position of the ball and get himself in place.

YES! Square your shoulders more before you pass again. Just like that. Yes

Stop mentally coaching me

But look how much better you’re doing

Kevin (why is it kind of nice when) stop it (don’t go there)

Kevin doesn’t stop, because his tips actually are improving Aaron’s game. In real time! He can deal with Aaron’s annoyed mental missiles if they are the price to pay. Aaron flips him off down the court. Kevin can’t see Andrew’s expression, but his head moves between them.

Kevin makes sure he’s on the far side of the changing room to Aaron after practice, because if he’s too close he might steal glances, and if he starts stealing glances he is going to start having thoughts. Which Aaron can hear now. So Kevin decides the safest route is avoiding temptation. They elect to walk back after practice, ignoring the questioning way Andrew narrows his eyes, combing over the campus for the girl.

Really need to finish that (so tired) am going to have to stay up (this has taken longer than expected) ugh morning class tomorrow should I skip that (no don’t want to lose participation mark)

Their fingers brush between them as they walk. Aaron yanks his hands back. Kevin looks down at him, Aaron looks back, his eyes shadowed underneath. He really looks exhausted. Kevin has always brushed Aaron’s bad sleep pattern off as a lack of discipline. He always thought he sacrificed rest to do his own unimportant nonsense, but he’s realising that Aaron holds himself to high standards in a different way from Kevin. That while he seems largely laid back about things on the surface, he’s a tycoon underneath, and that his brain never seems to stop.

Why is he looking at me (and what does that expression mean) what-

Kevin reaches up and touches Aaron’s cheekbone. He smooths his thumb along one of the dark marks beneath his eyes. He scrunches up his nose, trying to force his power into action, but he can never make it work when he wants to.

He looks so exhausted if only I could give him time back

What is he doing what the fuck

Kevin slides his hand down and grips Aaron’s chin. He told himself he wasn’t going to do this again, but it is the only thing he knows activates his power everytime. This is a much more gentle kiss than the previous eight. Usually when Kevin kisses Aaron it is an impulsive, passion driven action, but this he does with purpose, slotting their lips together. It is a good kiss, even if it is much more chaste than a lot of their kisses.

Would have been a good first kiss

What the fuck (what does that mean) why is he (have you done this before) has he been turning back time

Aaron pulls back sharply from Kevin, and there is the familiar rage on his face. Kevin sighs through his nose as Aaron opens his mouth, but before he speaks, Kevin feels the familiar tug of his power.

His lips are still tingling as he lands back at the court. Aaron is just about to turn down Andrew’s ride back to the dorms.

“Yeah, we’re coming.” Kevin speaks over him. We didn’t find her. Waste of time. You should work on your assignment.

Did you come back?

Yes

So you used your power on purpose?

No it just happened

If she wasn’t where we checked we can look elsewhere (assignment can wait a bit I’ll just-)

No. We checked all over and you just got more stressed about your assignment, so take the time back and go work on it

Okay

“Thanks.” That’s nice of him (why is he being nice what does he want) Aaron takes the steaming mug from Kevin, eying it suspiciously. It’s an old mug, chipped at the rim, the colourful print on it faded but still bearing the title of Scorpio with a scorpion and some traits listed beneath it. Nicky had gifted Aaron and Andrew them not long after he came back to the US, making a joke about how they were twins and yet he was the only Gemini. They had not laughed. Aaron doesn’t believe in starsign bullshit, but it’s one of the first things Nicky ever gave him. He hasn’t grown out of it like clothes or shoes. He always brings it when they move back to the dorms.

“I can be nice.” Know you’re stressed just want to make it easier

“Rarely.” I know you can.

“Almost there?” Heard you thinking about a conclusion

“Yeah.” Just need to read over it but should have it submitted tonight (hope it’s good enough)

I’m sure it is. Almost understand some of that when I hear it from your thoughts. Almost

Yeah well I’m writing with the assumption my audience already knows the basic terms so it’s not aimed at an introductory level (it’s okay if you don’t get it you don’t study this)

No, but I like hearing about what you study sometimes

I like when you talk to me about something other than exy

I like that you listen when I talk about anything other than exy

Yeah well there’s a brain in there somewhere

That gets better grades than you.

“Out.”

Kevin laughs as he leaves the room. Aaron cradles the mug to his chest, warming his hands from the heat of it. He breathes in the steam spirals, inhaling the scent of peppermint. Aaron blows on the surface, takes a sip, and then sets the cup down to type more. The warmth doesn’t leave him though, spreading out through his body, more than just his hands.

He feels less fondly for Kevin when Friday night comes. Weirdly, he also feels a bit high, a rush of adrenaline and excitement that is not his own coursing through him in the few hours before the game.

How do you still get worked up (passionate) after all this time (like that) it’s not even a big game

Every game should be treated like a big game, Aaron.

Aaron rolls his eyes, but once he’s on court, he does apply himself. Kevin has done small things to help him with assignment - giving him time back, bringing him tea - and so in return Aaron tries his best during their game. As annoying as Kevin’s barked commands in his head are, he follows them, and he acts as Kevin’s eyes on the far end of the court. Even though their positions mean they rarely interact on the court, it’s beneficial. Having someone with eyes on the action Aaron can’t always see. And when he is sitting out for a quarter, he is able to warn Kevin of movement on the court before it reaches him. There’s still an undercurrent of concern running through Aaron, a constant chant of don’t turn invisible don’t turn invisible don’t turn invisible. It’s a relief when the final buzzer blares out, the Foxes three points ahead.

Kevin slaps Neil on the shoulder but ignores everyone else as he jogs down the length of the court. Ugh tired now (do I want to go to Eden’s tonight) wonder if we’re getting food on the way (probably feel better by the time we get there) we should I don’t want to cook (what if I think something stupid with drinking) maybe pizza (would like to blow some steam off though). Aaron assumes Kevin is running to Andrew, so it surprises him when Kevin charges into Aaron, tackling him into a hug. Aaron staggers under the force (ugh ow) before steadying himself (can’t really feel through my gear but how does he still smell so good even after-).

That was amazing! Think of all the possibilities of this, the kind of plays we could come up with-

We’re trying to get rid of it remember?

Yes but if we don’t.

Kevin, we have to. Aaron feels a wave of disappointment that baffles him. Surely he doesn’t want to be stuck with me in his thoughts forever

“Come on, we should go get cleaned up.” You’re right.

Of course Aaron is. No one would want to be stuck with him, especially not when he can’t hide, when they can see right into his damaged centre. He tries to shrug those thoughts off as Nicky claps him on the shoulder. He’s always more affectionate with Aaron when they’re in their gear now, since it’s the only time it is safe for him to make contact. Aaron leans into him just for a second, knowing how much Nicky must miss affection. Nicky beams through his helmet grate.

They do get pizza in Columbia. Kevin’s in too good of a mood to argue. Aaron gets a vegetarian pizza so they can share it, and a warm glow of happiness radiates from Kevin through to him. It’s funny, because Kevin’s scowling face would suggest anything but. Aaron supposes they both are often hiding their true feelings from the world, intentional or not.

Despite his concerns, when Nicky pours pre-drinks, Aaron joins in. He’s buzzed by the time they hit Eden’s, and has another couple of drinks before disappearing onto the floor. Nicky goes off somewhere by himself, dressed in far too many layers to be clubbing in, probably, keeping his skin covered so he doesn’t touch anyone. Lost in the press of bodies and loud roar of the music and flashing lights, Aaron’s brain actually stops whirring as much for once. He closes his eyes, tips his head back, and bounces along to the beat. He catches snippets of Kevin’s thoughts, but it’s hard to fully focus on them with the volume of the music.

So good… the way the lights… bicep muscles… peek of his stomach… hair sticking to his forehead with sweat… wish I could go dance with him… hands on his hips… mouth to his throat… pull him back against…

Aaron shakes his head and tries to focus on something else, an aching twinge in his chest. Stupid. He shouldn’t care about whoever Kevin is thinking about.

I can’t… know exactly how it’ll end… said I wouldn’t… can’t do it a tenth time.

Aaron’s ears are ringing. His limbs are pleasantly achy and his skin is slick with sweat by the time they pile into the Mas. He’s in the back, Kevin relegated to the middle despite his long legs to act as a dividing wall between Aaron and Josten. Nicky gets front seat privileges due to his power now. A precaution.

Who caught your eye tonight?

What?

Heard you thinking about someone

Doesn’t matter. Why do you care?

I don’t. Just curious (curious curious curious sure)

Nothing is going to come of it.

Something could (who wouldn’t want you)

Just drop it, Aaron.

Aaron arches a brow, not appreciating that tone at all, especially inside his head. He’s too tired to poke at Kevin further though, shifting in his seat to try and get comfortable until Kevin thinks just lie against me and stop moving. Aaron rests his head back against Kevin’s shoulder, eyelids heavy, lulled by the gentle movement of the car. Still smells good.

THE GIRL I SEE HER (he can’t even hear you) SHE’S IN MY SIGHTS

I JUST GOT OUT OF CLASS WHERE ARE YOU?

COMING FROM THE SCIENCE BUILDING TOWARDS THE QUAD

I WILL MEET YOU THERE FOLLOW HER

Kevin picks up his pace, putting his long legs to good use as he starts a swift stride, weaving his way through other students.

SHE’S SEEN ME SHE IS WALKING QUICKER

DON’T LET HER GET AWAY!

CALLING OUT BUT SHE IS IGNORING ME

ALMOST THERE

As Kevin finally makes it to the quad he whips his head around, eyes narrowed. He spots Aaron first - he feels like he will always spot Aaron first in a crowd - and follows his gaze. The girl is striding swiftly towards Kevin, but she hasn’t seen him. She’s looking over her shoulder at Aaron, who has broken into a jog. She turns forward, her expression panicked, and almost walks right into Kevin.

“You really have to start watching where you’re going,” he says. The girl shrinks back, clutching her bag. Aaron arrives a second later, breathing heavy.

“We need to talk to you.”

Her name is Kiera. Aaron asks. Kevin would not even have thought that important enough information to ask.

“What did you do to us?” He folds his arms, towering over her. Aaron glares at him. If we want her to help we should probably not snap at her.

I don’t have to play nice. She used her power on me!

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You bumped into us, and now we can hear each other’s thoughts. So you must have used your power on us,” Aaron says. Kiera’s gaze brightens.

“You know about powers? Do you have them?”

Don’t give her information.

Shut up

“You’re changing the subject. Can you undo your power?”

“No.”

“So you’re saying we’re stuck like this.” Kevin’s voice has a sharp edge to it. Kiera flinches back from him. Aaron doesn’t scold Kevin this time, evidently also annoyed by this information.

“It’s not forever! It goes away after… after…”

“After what?”

“Okay, it makes more sense if I explain my power. So, I’ve always been good at spotting which characters have good chemistry in stories. I always know who should get together. Then after the storm, I started seeing people who would be good together, and when I touch them, something happens that helps with whatever is stopping them from being together.”

“Telepathy,” Aaron says. What does she mean (she’s wrong) who would be good together (Kevin would never)

“Not necessarily. Like once it was that someone was too immature, and my power made him a lot older, which changed his perspective. Then when they got together he changed back. Or I had someone who was too scared, and my power made them really brave. It’s just whatever is blocking it from happening.”

“How does us being in each other’s heads help? Not that we’re-” Aaron isn’t, anyway.

What do you mean? I’m not what?

“Maybe you just need to understand each other’s perspectives. I don’t know.”

“You can’t just go around trying to manipulate people into relationships, it’s not your place to interfere just because you think something is going on.” This is so awkward (he would never) how the fuck are we supposed to navigate this (not Kevin Day) we’re going to be stuck with it (not with me)

I mean, if she’s wrong about anyone here it’s you

“I don’t just think! I can see. I told you. I literally see chemistry, it’s part of my power, and it is pouring off of you two. So when you were fighting I knew I had to-” Kiera cuts off, but it is too late. Kevin and Aaron’s attention focuses in on her, both of their faces tight with anger.

“You did this on purpose,” Kevin says.

“I just wanted to help!”

“Well, you didn’t,” Aaron says.

“You’ll be happy in the long run.” Keira’s back is to the wall, but she sidesteps, starting to slide away from them. “You’ll see.”

She takes off. Kevin starts to step after her, but Aaron puts a hand on his arm to stop him. Let her go. We got the information. She can’t help anymore.

She might be lying.

I don’t think she is. Let’s go back to the dorms (we probably need to talk about this) (fuck)

Aaron-

No. Dorms first (what did he mean I’m the one she’s wrong about)

Obviously we’re both going to be thinking about this on the way back

Well she got it wrong, right? (Did she though Aaron) so there has to be some other way to undo this (she got it half right didn’t she)

That’s what I mean. She got it half right.

Did you (does he know) ?

There’s a hopeful flutter in Kevin’s chest, followed by an aching pining sensation. He looks at Aaron. Aaron looks back, then blushes and looks away.

Don’t be stupid (he would never) don’t even think (he can hear you) how embarrassing (to think he would ever) shut up

“Aaron.” Could he…

“What?” Stop thinking

Can’t do this again if you’re not sure. You said you wouldn’t. Nine times is enough.

What did you do nine times?

Kevin thinks of every time he’s ever kissed Aaron. Aaron goes still. Kevin is so lost in his memories that it takes him a few steps to realise. He pauses and looks back at Aaron. Aaron’s expression gives little away, but Kevin can feel the resounding echo of his utter shock. The slight twinge of betrayal. The heat of underlying anger.

“You’ve kissed me and rewound time so I wouldn’t remember?”

“Not on purpose!” I can’t control it. I never mean to go back.

Nine times?! How can you make the same mistake nine times?

You know the powers are unpredictable.

I wasn’t talking about your power (I meant me in the mistake obviously)

Kissing you was never a mistake.

But you-

You always got angry at me. I panicked and accidentally went back. I don’t want you to hate me.

Kevin (I don’t understand) I don’t (why would I be angry) why would you (probably didn’t believe it)

What are you not understanding?

Why would you kiss me?

Why does anyone kiss anyone?

Kevin (why me what am I compared to Kevin Day I’m just-)

“Stop.” Kevin closes the space back to Aaron, taking his face in his hands. Aaron’s cheeks are warm beneath his palms. He gazes up at Kevin, his eyes wide. Stop thinking like that. “I’m not Kevin Day. Not with you.” I can just be Kevin with you. I like being Kevin with you. I like you.

He doesn’t mean that-

“Meant it enough to have nine first kisses with you.”

That’s so annoying I don’t remember any of our first kisses

Well it’s not you it’s the variants of you in different timelines

Still me!

There’s a timeline where you have two fingers frozen off, but here you are, all digits accounted for. It’s not you. It’s a different timeline version of you. I haven’t kissed this you.

Kevin starts to lean down. Aaron puts a hand to his chest.

“This is your tenth kiss with me, but it’s my first kiss with you. So I’m going to kiss you, and you’re going to let me do it my way. But we are going back to the dorms first.”

“Okay.”

The whole way back Kevin’s mind is flicking through memories of his kisses with Aaron at other points in time, wondering if this one is going to be similar to any of them. Aaron is also imagining their kiss, though he keeps trying to shut that thought down, not wanting Kevin to know how it’s going to happen before he decides. He’s also wondering if this will actually work.

Once they’re back in the dorm and the door shuts behind them, a silence lingers heavy in the air. Not just their words, but even their thoughts still in anticipation.

Here goes nothing (make this good)

Aaron steps closer. He reaches up and cups Kevin’s cheek with surprising confidence. Kevin leans down so it is easier for Aaron to reach. His other hand slides to the back of Kevin’s neck, encouraging him closer. Their noses brush together, breath mingling between them.

Tenth time is the charm.

Aaron presses up towards Kevin and firmly slots their lips together. It is nothing like any of their previous kisses. There is so much more purpose and intent behind this kiss, Aaron slotting his lips against Kevin’s, pressing firm but gentle. Even though it’s a chaste kiss, liquid heat cascades through Kevin. He feels like there is an electric current running beneath his skin.

Can I touch him?

Yes (please do)

Kevin wraps his arms around Aaron and pulls him close. Aaron exhales heavily through his nose. He slides his tongue along Kevin’s lower lip and Kevin opens to him immediately. Aaron’s hand moves up to his hair, gripping, using his hold to angle Kevin’s head to his liking as he brushes their tongues together.

He’s so good at this. Kevin grips Aaron’s hips, grounding himself as much as he’s holding Aaron. This is the best kiss we’ve had.

Fuck. Can’t believe-

Aaron. Wanted for so long-

“What?” Aaron draws back just enough to speak. His nose is still against Kevin’s, lips brushing Kevin’s mouth with his words.

“Hm?” Kevin tilts his head, catching Aaron’s mouth in their first second kiss. Aaron huffs, then turns his head away.

“What have you wanted?”

To kiss you.

Kevin moves forward again, but Aaron leans back.

“Kevin.”

“I told you.”

“You didn’t.”

“I- Oh. Has it worked? Can you not hear my thoughts anymore?”

“No. Can you hear mine?”

Kevin shakes his head. Aaron trails his fingertips over Kevin’s lips, causing tingles to burst through him. He’s slightly disappointed. He’d have liked to explore their telepathy in the bedroom, but on the flip side, if Aaron had thought something even slightly less than positive about Kevin, it probably would have sent him spiralling.

“Wanted to do this,” Kevin murmurs, taking hold of Aaron’s jaw. He presses their third kiss to Aaron’s mouth, and thinks I hope that number just keeps going up.

#kevaaron #fox fics

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chellerbelles · 3 months

Text

It's Rogue & Gambit fanworks week 2024! Hurrah!

As usual, I've decided to try and cram all the prompts into one story. I haven't quite finished it yet, but I'm up to the last chapters, so hopefully it'll be finished by the end of the week :) And hopefully I won't have to sneak back to do any plot hole fixes ;)

My new story is Bonds of the Multiverse, which you can read at Ao3 (link above), or FFnet. It's a sister story to The Soul Matter. They happen at the same time. It's not necessary for you to (re)read The Soul Matter first.

Prompts for today are Alternate First Meeting and Robin Hood AU.

So, here's the thing. I've written a Robin Hood story before and have no desire to write another one. However, the idea of writing a Leverage story with an X-Men team does have a great deal of interest to me. So, in my new story you can find Leverage Rogue (Grifter) and Leverage Gambit (Thief). In my mind, the other members of their team are: Storm (Mastermind), Laura Kinney (Hitter), and Pyro (Hacker). Hopefully one day I'll get to write this as a one-shot, but in the meantime, I get to dream :)

Alternate First Meeting below the cut. This scene is one of the later scene in my story. It takes place after Uncanny X-Men #179. Yeah, we're going all the way back to the 80s before Gambit's first appearance was even published!

18 year old Rogue sat on the rooftop in quiet contemplation of the last day. She’d been afraid of absorbing anyone with a physical mutation, like Angel, because she didn’t know what it would do to her. In a way, the fear had been enhanced after absorbing Carol. There was so much about her mutation that she just didn’t know.

And then Pyro had melted Colossus’ steel form, and she had been asked to absorb him so that Healer could heal him.

She did it. It wasn’t to prove anything to the X-Men, who still didn’t trust her. She did it to save the life of another. She did it because for once she could actually use her mutation to help someone instead of hurt them. She did it because it was the right thing to do.

It was still the most terrifying experience of her life to date. After being stuck as a metal statue for what felt like forever, borrowing Angel’s wings didn’t seem so bad.

Movement below caught her eye. A motorcycle drove through the open gates and headed towards the front door. She frown, not recognising it, and flew off the roof to go investigate.

She landed near the front door just as the rider was getting off his motorcycle. He looked to be about her age, with long brown hair, and red and black eyes. He was so gorgeous it took her breath away.

“Bonjour chere. M’names Remy,” he said. “I hear this is where I can find the X-Men?”

#rogue/gambitweek2024 #rogue/remyweek2024

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julesthequirky · 5 months

Text

Theirs: Chapter One

All my work is purely aimed at those 18+ so minors kindly, DNI.

Summary: You've just moved back to Helena after getting fired from your previous job. Desperate for cash you become a dancer at a strip club. Strong-willed and independent, you've never needed a man, that is until you meet the handsome Sheriff of Helena. Gentle and considerate, he melts your heart in a way no Alpha could. Then there's Dean (not Winchester). Rough-around-the-edges, with tattoos covering him from head to toe, and a heated stare that makes your heart race. But an Omega can only have one Alpha, right? That's what you've been taught. Only neither one will concede to the other, and you find yourself unable to choose.

Characters: You, OC Lou, mystery man.

Chapter warnings: Adult language, transgender OC (though, I don't truthfully see her as transgender anymore as she's fully transitioned).

W/C: 1, 609

A/N: I haven't abandoned The Choice, so don't worry! :) I'm going to try and post alternating chapters.

You sat on the lumpy couch, surrounded by boxes scribbled with ‘kitchen’ or ‘bedroom’ on. You didn’t have the energy just yet to start unpacking. With your head in your hands, you assessed how you came to be here, in your aunt’s trailer, back in Helena, with no job and your bank account quickly dwindling.

It was simple. You’d fucked up. Punched your boss in the nose, and oh, God, it had sprayed like a fountain, but in your defence, he’d said one too many derogatory things about Omegas behind your back, and you’d had enough.

With your finances in dire straits, you could no longer afford the blockers that kept your heat away. If you didn’t figure things out pretty quickly, you’d be going through Hell soon.

You surveyed the boxes scattered around the living area. This was your life. If you’d held your anger…Hell, even counted to ten, or even a hundred…then maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t be in this situation… However, feeling sorry for yourself was gonna get you nowhere. You knew that. But you couldn’t help it.

Your phone buzzed beside you. You sighed and picked it up. It was an old-school friend you hadn’t spoken to in years. You tapped on the DM, instantly opening up the app.

Lou: Heard y’all were back in town. We should meet up, grab a drink, and catch up! XXX

The image in the profile portrayed a woman with long brown hair and bright blue eyes that you definitely recognised. She sure looked familiar. And as you wracked your brains, it came to you. She used to be a he.

No way. You smiled, remembering how Lou was in school. You’d catch them staring off into space, watching girls go about their activities as you both sat on the bleachers. You thought that maybe Lou fancied them. Guess not. Just going through some things and trying to understand who they were, just like you and everyone else. And maybe she did fancy girls as well. You weren’t gonna judge.

By the looks of it, Lou still went by Lou, as her profile name indicated. You fired back a message telling her you’d be delighted to. It would be good to catch up with an old friend. You wondered where she was in life. Hopefully in a better place than you were.

That’s exactly what you did. You dug into your suitcase, found a shimmery little number and donned your favourite cowboy boots for comfort.

You returned to your old stomping ground, The Silver Dollar. It was old as dirt, with old wood built into a classic saloon style. And it was packed. Bodies heaved as you pushed your way through, looking for Lou, memorising the image from her social media account.

A mix of scents accosted your nose. Beta colognes and perfumes that made your nose itch, earthy Alpha scents and the occasional sweeter scent of an Omega.

Heads turned as you made your way through to the bar, whereupon Lou sat on a stool, drinking a beer.

She looked amazing. Barely recognisable from her old self, but you guessed that was the whole point. She had a great figure, jeans that hugged her in all the right places and a low-cut top to show off her ample cleavage. Fuck. You were jealous and found you were quickly developing a girl crush.

Lou slid off her seat and enveloped you in a hug. You wrapped your arms around her, giving her a meaningful hug. It felt good to be here. Maybe getting fired wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

When she pulled back, she whistled.

“Look at you. You look so grown up.”

You laughed. Grown-up was right.

“What about you. You’re the one that’s changed much more than me.”

Lou grinned from ear to ear. And your heart almost burst with happiness for her. She nodded, grabbed her beer and took a sip.

“High school was a struggle. I didn’t show it cause it was a me thing. I thought I just fancied girls, but I somehow knew it was more than that. I didn’t wanna just be with a girl. I wanted to be one.”

Lou had been one of your best friends in school, and you regretted not keeping in touch with her. Life moved quickly in those years, and before you knew it, ten years had passed.

“Well, I’m really sorry I didn’t keep in touch. I should’ve.”

Lou waved a hand dismissively.

“Naw, I was Hell to be around when I was transitioning. Who knew oestrogen was a bitch. Felt like I was experiencing puberty all over again.”

You laughed and nodded. Being a woman certainly came with its hormonal challenges.

“Anyway, look at you. Gunna catch everyone’s eye in that.”

You looked down at the silver sequined dress. You were a damn glitterball. You blushed, suddenly bashful of the attention.

She grabbed the bartender’s attention and waved him over.

“What’s your poison?”

“Jim Bean and coke.”

She slammed her hand on the bartop.

“And that’s what you’ll have. Barkeep! Make my stunning friend her drink of choice!”

You laughed, cheeks hurting from laughing so much. It felt good to let loose. And Lou certainly was mesmerising.

Lou insisted on paying for your first drink. No matter how much you protested, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The first whiskey and coke went down way too easily. As did the second. And the third.

You drank to forget your problems. And to have a good time.

Lou rested her hand on your shoulder.

“I know a troubled soul when I see one. What’s up?”

You shrugged.

“Jus’ ev’rythin’.”

You turned, giving her your attention.

“It’s dumb. But the reason why I came back is cause I got fired. I haven’t found a job yet, and I’m kinda panicking.”

A look of concern crossed her face, and the hand on your shoulder squeezed gently.

“It’s a shitty situation. But you’re back home. You got your family, and you got me. What about your Alpha?”

You snorted.

“Ain’t got one of them.”

“Well…take your pick. We got an abundance of ‘em in Helena. An’ for no damn reason…” She trailed off and raised her beer bottle to her lips again.

“If I don’t find a job real soon, a bunch of them might be hammering down my door when I go into heat.”

“If it’s a job you want, I got an idea. You might not like it. Just how desperate are you?”

“I’d do anything. Hell, I’m at the point where I might just go and stand on the damn street corner. That’s how desperate I am.”

She hmmed. She twisted her body to reach for something in her bag. It was a pen and a jotter. She scribbled something down and passed the sticky note to you. It was a number.

“Just remember, I told you you might not like it, but seeing as you’re desperate. It’s easy money. Great money, in fact. I worked there for a little while, too, so I can put in a good word.”

Your eyebrows raised. “Thanks. You didn’t have to, y’know.”

“Just…wear that dress, and you’ll be right in.”

“Lou…” You said in a warning tone.

You didn’t understand why you’d have to wear a silver dress to a job interview. And you knew she was withholding information.

She sighed.

“Fine. It’s a strip club,” she started, raising her hands up, seeing you about to protest. “It’s really good money, just call the number. You won’t regret it.”

You had reservations. For one, it was a strip club. And you were an Omega. That limited what you could do. You weren’t sure you were that desperate. Yet. Regardless, you tucked the Post-It in your cowboy boot for safekeeping.

“Atta girl. Now, let’s just get shit-faced.”

That you had no problem in agreeing to.

Plenty of drinks later, you and Lou giggled like schoolgirls into your drinks, heads leant close together.

“C’mon, tell me, when you were all healed, how often did you touch yourself?”

Lou giggled and leant even closer, her voice dropping, just for you to hear.

“Girl, I got so wet over the stupidest things. Had my fingers inside myself more than out. Thank you, Dr Warren, for blessing me with such a great pussy.”

You giggled into your drink. You could attest to getting horny over dumb things. Thankfully, you’d calmed down, but those late teen years had been something else.

“I remember shaving my vajayjay for the first time, and I found myself hella horny. Like, nobody tells you that! I think I humped the armrest of my couch just to get some kind of relief.”

She snorted. Then you heard the rumbling of a deep chuckle.

“Sure would have found some relief under my tongue, that’s for sure.”

He said it quietly. More to himself than to anyone.

You turned to the owner of the deep masculine voice, a retort ready on your tongue, but it died the moment you saw the burly giant of a man.

His eyes pierced yours. You couldn’t tell if they were brown or hazel. Tendrils of hair framed his face, and the rest was pulled up in a bun. Tats covered his arms, neck, and every bit of skin on his body, as evident from the massive hole in his muscle tee. He held a tumbler with amber liquid inside, swilling the contents, and your eyes honed in on his fingers, where intricate patterns covered each digit.

He was a modern-day Viking.

Then you felt it. The slight quiver in your pussy.

Tags: @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch

#Theirs #julesthequirky's fics #julesthequirky #reader insert #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen x female reader #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o verse

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hsr-texts · 1 year

Text

find your cinderella

꒰‧₊˚✩彡‧꒱ ┊ ━━━━ chapter two

꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ streamer!reader x mystery hsr character ꒱

꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ otome event ꒱

꒰ ☰ WORD COUNT ┊1.5k ꒱

꒰ ☰ DESCRIPTION ┊ ━━ When you do an unboxing livestream for your subsribers, you find an invite to an exclusive event called the "Find Your Cinderella" masquerade gala where you are guaranteed to find your supposed true love, as a rather enthusiastic manager told you. ꒱

꒰ ☰ NOTES ┊hooray it's finally here! and also we get some cameos hehe ꒱

previously ┊masterlist

After seeing the results of the poll, you decided to set up your stream and waiting for the stream to fill up with people.

You grinned at the camera and greeted them, “Hey guys! Due to popular demand, I’m gonna be playing Freya’s Gate 5 for this stream.”

Before turning to play the game already, you noticed some text pop up in the corner of your screen.

“User130 donated 100 credits and left a note: Congrats on getting invited to the FYC Gala! I hope you have a fun time :)”

A grin pulled at your lips. “Thank you so much for the support, User130! And I hope you’re having a great day!”

This specific account has been a long supporter of your career as a streamer. They’ve been regularly sending donations biweekly. Even though they weren’t big amounts, you appreciated how long they’ve supported you even when you were just starting out.

“Alright, let’s get to playing! I’m planning to finish the main storyline here, maybe play some multiplayer with a few friends, and grind some exp to make sure I don’t like, get my ass beaten by the final boss,” you narrated what you were planning for that session, “I should probably level up some equipment too so battles won’t be as hard.”

You continued playing, going through the plot and reacting to it with your viewers. A few laughs here, a comment there, then the occasional “pause the game and then discuss your theory with your viewers” moment.

Taking up streaming was a good idea now that you thought of it. Playing games alone just didn’t feel as fun without someone to enjoy it with you.

Oh.

Another player was requesting to play with you.

You checked the ID.

“GGSWolf”

Your eyes lit up, recognising one of your friends. You clicked “Accept” immediately.

Her avatar popped up next to yours after a moment of loading. Yeah, your lag hasn’t been too good lately but hopefully once you finished setting up your new PC, it’ll be running as smoothly as a hot knife sliding down soft butter.

“Hey,” GGSWolf spoke into voicechat when she entered your world. Although you weren’t entirely sure who she was, you could tell she sounded quite young. Was she a highschooler, maybe?

“Hey, Wolfie!” You greeted, grinning.

“You need carrying? I saw you’re almost about to fight the boss.” Her voice seemed quite nonchalant, like this was about as easy as breathing for her. Sometimes you were envious of her skill when it came to games.

“Yeah! I just need to farm some mats to ascend my Grande so that I can cheese the final boss with the Airstrike Technique.”

“Good idea.”

The two of you entered the dungeon that had the best drop rate for the harp fragments that you needed. It started out great but…

“STILL NO DROPS?!” You exclaimed in frustration, looking at the loot you got for finishing the dungeon quest.

You could hear a soft pop from Wolfie’s mic. Seemed like she was chewing on bubblegum this whole time. “Wow, did all your luck run out after you got that invitation to the Gala?” She commented.

Groaning, you rested your head on your desk. “Maybe…”

“Yeah, my coworkers got invited too. One of them didn’t want to go but our boss said it was mandatory so he ended up accepting the invite too.”

You raised your head, confused. “Wait I thought you were a highschooler.”

“I’m older than that, dummy.”

You checked the chat and saw that they were just laughing at your sudden terrible luck.

“Hey you guys are such MEANIES!” You gasped in mock hurt. But then you turned back to your game, “So do you think I’ll be meeting your coworkers there?”

She hummed. “Well, the first one’s got a pretty distinct personality but the dude is about as social as a rock. You might come across him once or twice. The other one is more chill but she’s got a bit of a sadistic streak.”

“Ohh I see.” Considering the rules of the masquerade, you couldn’t actually find the identities of the other participants. You supposed that the event organiser wanted the event to stay true to the theme of Cinderella.

"Well, since clearly your luck is terrible right now, I can trade you some harp fragments,” Wolfie said. “I need some sword fragments. Prefarming for the new paladin.”

“Oh my god, you’re a lifesaver, Wolfie!” You exclaimed joyously, immediately right-clicking on her avatar and pressing the trade button on the dropdown menu.

She accepted the request and the two of you traded your materials.

Since you still needed more harp fragments, the two of you ended up grinding the dungeon for a couple more runs until you could ascend your Grande.

Bright colors flashed repeatedly on a screen, spelling out the word “JACKPOT”

The casino was lively as ever. The food was delicious, the fine decor provided a luxurious ambiance, and most importantly, adrenaline and pleasure rushed through the air as people lost themselves to the depravity of gambling.

The person grinned, looking at the screen. “Hehe, my luck is wonderful as usual. Praise Aha that I have such luck.”

A woman dressed in office clothing approached her with a device. “Sugo, we received a new report from the folks in the lab.”

They turned to her. “Oh?”

“It’s about the anomaly.”

“Ah, yes, yes, why don’t we discuss this somewhere private?” They collected their earnings from the slot machine and placed all of it in their pocket. One would wonder how they managed to fit such a huge pile into a tiny pocket but perhaps that was just one of the many mysteries of the entity.

The event organiser led her to a private lounge reserved for VIPs. They sat down at opposite sides of each other.

“So what exactly did you want to say?” Sugo asked, taking their mask off. Their eyes flashed with intrigue.

The woman nodded. “Yes, we run a few simulations between the anomaly and other participants one by one. Out of all of them, we found what could be their best match.”

Sugo grinned, quite pleased with this news. “Oh, how wonderful. I can’t wait to see if they’ll naturally gravitate to their best match or end up getting the wrong person, hehe.” They hummed. “But unfortunately we’ll have to cut this scene short.”

“Huh…?” The woman was confused.

“They’re watching us after all. I can’t give out spoilers so soon!”

After that was all done, Wolfie excused herself and left, saying she had to play another game due to maintenance being over. Apparently there was a new update and she really wanted the new banner character.

You decided to end the stream there, telling your viewers you’ll just beat the final boss on the next stream since farming materials for Grande took so long with your terrible luck. A pity.

After turning your setup off, you suddenly realised you forgot to do your groceries for the week. “Aw crap,” you spoke to yourself, going to check your pantry for what you needed.

You typed down your grocery list real quick and dressed up in casual clothes, taking your wallet and placing it in your pocket.

The afternoon sun shone down on you as you walked towards the grocery store. It was quite a stroke of luck that it wasn’t too far from your home. Going to buy stuff you needed didn’t take too long; Though, thinking about it now, perhaps the convenience of having a store so close by meant that you wouldn’t have to think about buy groceries much and that’s why you often forgot to do them.

Ah, well, it wasn’t too big of a deal.

You walked into the store, feeling the air-conditioned air hit your face. How pleasant.

Taking a cart, you made your way to the aisles where you could get the stuff you needed. However, on the way there, you spotted a familiar person.

They turned around and immediately noticed you, eyes lighting up. “Hey, funny running into you here, huh?” Your friend commented, chuckling. “You’ve been pretty busy with your streams, haven’t you? How’ve you been?”

You smiled in return. “I’m doing great! I actually got an invite to this super cool event called the Find Your Cinderella Gala,” you told them.

“Oh right! I actually saw the news on Trotter. Turns out there’s a whole bunch of celebs joining the event. You’re super lucky!” They responded. “I hope you have fun. Make sure to send me some updates and gossip after, yeah?”

“Heh, sure,” you chuckled.

Your friend nodded, satisfied with your answer. “Though, speaking of celebs, I recently got these tickets to a concert. You wanna go with? A bunch of friends are really excited since they like this band a lot.”

You considered it for a moment. It’s been a while since you were able to go to a concert. Maybe it’ll be good for you since you’ve sorta been cooped up in your house, making content for your fans.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #dan heng x reader #welt x reader #luocha x reader #gepard x reader #sampo x reader #blade x reader

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peterfriggingpan · 11 months

Text

Broken promises

Harry Styles fanfic

Warning! Contains smut.

"Oh come off it, Harry. You can't be serious!", Mark exclaimed, looking flabbergasted.

"I'm telling you, no more drinking. I promised.", Harry said, taking a slow sip of his soda, looking towards the bar.

They were hanging out at the pub as usual. It was a pub tucked away in a quiet little street, around a half hour away from London. It was the only place they had left. The only place he had left. To be normal. To feel normal. To pretend everything was the same as it was.

No one ever recognised him there. Or at least they pretended they didn't. And it was good enough for him. It was the same as he was doing. Pretending.

Mark had ordered his usual beer and was almost through with it, wondering aloud if he should order another one or switch to a gin. When Harry said he was sticking to sodas all night and every night from then on, Mark couldn't believe his ears. Bloody Harry Styles, doing everything from booze to weed to coke to everything all at once at his prime, was going stone cold sober.

"You're really good at making promises, aren't you?", his oldest friend remarked. Pretty shit at keeping them though, he thought to himself.

Harry smirked, his eyes never leaving their new-found target.

"So, are we still hanging out at the pub then? How can you be sober at a bloody pub? That's ridiculous, that is.", Mark ranted, visibly annoyed.

"Where do you propose we hang out then?", Harry prompted, knowing full well he didn't have an answer to his question.

"My place?", he asked, hopefully.

"Yeah, no thanks. Your place is full of your bloody screaming children. You know I can't stand that for more than thirty minutes at a time."

"Yeah, right. Sometimes I think you love those kids more than me.", he said, laughing.

Harry didn't reply. He was busy staring towards the bar.

Mark turned around annoyed, to finally see what his friend had been staring at for the whole time they were there. Yeah, remarkably shit at keeping promises, he thought again, realising that his friend was looking at a group of girls sitting at the bar doing shots. Staring at one particular girl.

He sighed. "Just go over there already. I have my bloody screaming children to get home to."

"Don't mind if I do", Harry said, chucking the remainder of his soda in one gulp. He picked up his glass and walked towards the bar, muttering a half-arsed goodbye to his friend.

Mark left without saying goodbye back, but Harry didn't care. Mark was as loyal as they come, and no matter what he got up to he always seemed to be able to forgive and forget.

He had gotten to the pub about ten minutes before his friend that night, which gave him plenty of time to scope out the place. It was almost empty, apart from the table with the three usual pals of the owner, who where there every day of the week, and a group of girls who were probably on a pub crawl, half of them looking already drunk.

Mark used to joke that the only thing keeping their favourite pub from closing were Harry's generous tips. Harry thought he was probably right, judging by how dead this place was on a Friday night.

He had sat at their usual corner table and ordered a soda, trying to convince himself that he was going to keep his promise. He waited patiently for Mark, whilst trying to listen in to the girl's conversation to pass the time. He was keeping his head low subconsciously, trying not to get recognised by them, as he was so used to doing, but they didn't even glance his way once.

"Next round's on me!", a petite blonde girl from the group shouted, her high voice way louder than it needed to have been.

A bunch of excited "woos" came from the rest of the girls, and they all cheers'd together when their beers arrived.

"To Jenn, for finally getting the promotion she was chasing after for fucking two whole years!", one of them said.

The blonde girl screamed excitedly, meaning she must've been Jenn.

Harry shamelessly checked them all out, one by one.

The girl named Jenn was the shortest of them all, but she screamed the loudest, and she seemed pretty drunk out of her mind already.

Vomit city, Harry thought, even though every cell of his being was yearning to be as drunk as her right now.

Next to Jenn, was another blonde, with long curly hair, blue eyes and a prominent nose. She was laughing constantly, her high-pitched laugh instantly putting Harry off, even though he thought she looked pretty hot in that short leather skirt she was wearing, contrasting her doll-like face.

Then, there was a really tall girl, probably about the same height as Harry with the heels she had on, with bright red lipstick and a white dress, light-brown curly hair and the same blue eyes as the weird laugh girl. Looks like sisters, Harry thought, and then his eyes fell to her right ring finger, where he spotted a gold band. He instantly reached for his own ring finger, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where a ring would be.

Moving on to the last girl, he thought, but he couldn't see her clearly from where he was sitting.

He waited for a bit, figuring she was bound to move around and he could catch a glimpse at her, but she was sitting pretty still.

He was staring at her all night long, while Mark was chatting away at him, blabbing about his wife wanting him to wash the dishes every night and how he was sick and tired of driving all around town to pick up his kids from some place just to take them some place else. Harry knew Mark loved doing those things, and he was just messing about, just to have something to say. Mark's life was pretty much the same every day. Harry could sense that he felt embarrassed about that, every time they got together.

When they were growing up, everyone thought Mark was going to be the one to make it. He was on his way to be a brilliant football player, everyone said so. And then he hurt his knee pretty bad one day at practice when he was 15, and he wasn't the same ever since. So he got a job at a bank, rose steadily through the ranks, got married to a plain girl, bought a plain house and had plain children. Pretty embarrassing, compared to his world famous best friend.

Harry wished he could understand how jealous of his plain life he was. And he pretended he wasn't. That's what he was best at.

The last girl was wearing high-heeled black leather boots. Black sheer tights, short black skirt or dress, he couldn't exactly tell. Toned legs underneath.

He caught a glimpse of long dark, almost black curls.

He heard her singing along to the song that was playing. Some song about sweaters. Warm, sweet voice. Decent, he thought.

He heard one of the others call her Rosie.

I like the name Rosie.

Mark had finally caught on. He told him to go over there, so Harry went. As if he was waiting for his permission.

He walked slowly towards the bar, settling across from her, asking the barman to get him another soda.

She turned around at the sound of his voice, and he could finally get a good look at her.

She had long black hair, very long indeed. It was loosely curled, and it gave her a wild look.

High-arched black full brows, verging on unkempt, but suiting her.

Piercing eyes. Almond- shaped, honey coloured, almost yellow in certain lighting. Shooting daggers at him. Feral.

Sharp jaw-line, straight nose. Gold hoop earrings.

Full, rose lips.

Rosie.

Harry was taken aback by how intimidating she looked, almost unapproachable. He took his soda in hand, ready to get back to his table, disappointed.

And then she smiled. She smiled at him. Big, beautiful, genuine smile. Reaching her eyes, making her squint, tiny lines appearing next to them.

Oh, sweet Rosie.

Harry was hooked. And so was Rosie, it seemed, cause she excused herself from the group and went around the bar to sit next to him.

"Wanna buy me a drink?", she asked, smiling that big smile of hers.

Bold.

"Don't you think you've had enough?", Harry asked, smirking back at her.

"How about I buy you one then?", she remarked.

Very bold.

Harry laughed, and motioned to his soda. "Can't. Going sober."

"Oh, that's okay.", she said, still in high spirits. "I'm Rosie. And you are?"

"I'm Harry. Nice to meet you.", he said shaking her hand. Soft, warm, hand. He held it slightly longer than necessary, but she didn't seem to mind.

"You seem a bit more together than your friends.", he said laughing, as he noticed Jenn across the bar, almost falling out of a stool.

"Oh, yeah, I can hold my drink a lot better than them.", she replied. "It's okay, though, we all deserve to let loose sometimes."

"Couldn't agree more.", he smirked.

"Wanna come back to my place?", she asked, without hesitating. Unashamed, she stared at him intently, her suggestive look emboldening him.

"Hell yes", he exclaimed. Impulsive. He shoudn't have said that.

Too late now.

She took his hand, waved goodbye to her friends, and they were gone.

Harry drove, cause she didn't have a driver's license. He was taken aback by that, asked her how old she was. She said thirty, raising her eyebrows, as if waiting for a bad reaction. Challenging him to say anything about her age.

"Twenty-nine myself.", he said, making her at ease. At least she was older than she looked. Harry didn't think he'd like younger-looking girls, and yet here he was.

They chatted absentmindedly for the whole short drive, his hand brushing against her thigh as he was changing gears. He felt goosebumps coming on his arms, every time that happened.

Electric.

They arrived at her place. She lived in a small one-bedroom apartment, with a tiny bright yellow two-seater sofa, a bookshelf overflowing with worn-looking books, two glasses and a coffee mug half-full on the coffee table next to a laptop.

Feels more like a home than my stupid mansion, Harry thought, and then smirked at his depressive thoughts.

Poor rich man.

She led him to her bed.

"Take off your clothes.", she commanded, as she sat on the bed and looked at him expectantly, taking off her boots at the same time.

"As you wish.", he said, grinning mischievously.

He had missed this part, the new, the exciting, the unknown.

"You have a lot of tattoos, Harry.", she stated, after she watched him painstakingly remove his garments one by one.

Harry chuckled nervously, running his hand through his overgrown locks, that were at that awkward length between short and long.

"Yeah, is that a problem?"

"No problem at all", she laughed and pulled him onto her on the bed. She swiftly took off her top. Harry realised she wasn't wearing a bra. How come I didn't notice that before?, he wondered to himself.

It was those eyes. He couldn't take his off of hers. They seemed to have darkened in colour, making them seem almost black now.

Lust.

He kissed her hungrily, realising instantly that that was what he was waiting for his whole life. To kiss those lips. That was his life's purpose.

Sparks were flying. Their chemistry was undeniable.

She seemed to think the same, cause she reciprocated the kiss with enthusiasm.

He took her skirt in his hands and pulled it down, taking her knickers and tights along with it carelessly, almost ripping everything apart.

He placed two fingers inside her, and she moaned loudly. He would do everything to hear her moan like that again.

He felt how wet she was, and couldn't help but smile as he was kissing her, feeling proud of himself.

She took him in her hand, her soft, warm hand. It took everything in him not to cum right then and there.

What the hell is the matter with you? You're acting like a bloody teenage virgin!, he thought, extremely annoyed at the hold she had over him. You've just bloody met the girl.

He ran his free hand through her long locks, slightly pulling at it. She seemed to like that, so he pulled even harder.

He continued to finger her, slow and fast and then slow again. He knew that drove them crazy. She was moaning even more loudly now, and he placed his hand over her mouth, laughing as he said, "You're gonna wake everybody up, babe. We don't want an audience now, do we?"

Rosie muttered, "No, we don't. This is just between you and me, babe." And then she moaned, longer and lower than before.

"You're driving me crazy.", he managed to spit out.

She reached over to her nightstand and took out a condom, passing it to him.

He removed his hand from her, and she grunted in protest.

He put the condom on as fast as he could, and climbed over her.

"I want you in me. Right. Now.", she said in between moans.

Harry obliged happily.

It was fast and it was slow all at once. He found himself stopping just to look at her for a bit. She looked even more like a wild animal now, her hair all over the place, her eyes looking at him hungrily, her fingers touching him all over, her full lips whispering his name.

Harry didn't want it to end. And yet, it was over in a matter of few minutes. Harry laid by her side whimpering. He could hear her panting, trying to catch her breath, her heart beating fast.

"That was amazing, Harry", she breathed, placing her arm on his chest, giving him a soft kiss.

"It sure as hell was, Rosie.", he agreed and heard her laughing.

Harry stayed there, staring at her bedroom ceiling, as he calmed himself down, trying to think clearly for once that evening. He had to get out of there soon.

He heard her heartbeat steadying, her breath slowing down, until she finally fell asleep.

Harry got up very quietly, trying his best not to wake her.

He put his clothes back on, and found his cellphone.

He typed a text and sent it.

"Coming home now. Not even a sip of booze, just as I promised. See you soon. x", it said.

He searched the pockets of his jeans and found what he was looking for.

The gold band that fit his right ring finger perfectly. He put it on and sighed.

He opened the door and left without a word, without a moment of hesitation, not noticing the pair of wild honey eyes looking back at him, tears threatening to spill over them.

Harry was pretty good at breaking promises.

----

I'M BACK BABY!

Had a sudden surge of inspiration and wrote this in one sitting. Hope you liked it! Sorry it's a bit long. Please let me know your thoughts.

Love, C.x

#harry styles #fanfiction #fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #peterfriggingpan #smut #smut fanfiction #harry #styles #one shot #angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles smut

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macadoodlewrites · 2 years

Text

Dangerous Love - Part Eighteen (Rafe Cameron x Routledge!Reader)

Summary: Avery Routledge is John B's cousin, and she has just moved to the OBX - just in time for a treasure hunt. But with John B keeping secrets in order to protect her, he pushes her into the arms of the Kook King. She becomes tangled with none other than Rafe Cameron, but will she realise how damaged he is before it is too late, or will he ruin her before she can get away?

Warnings: death, smut, dub-con, non-con, toxic behaviour, abuse, kidnapping

Ships: Rafe Cameron x OC, minor!JJ x OC

Main Masterlist

Dangerous Love Masterlist

Word Count: 4.3k

The next morning, I awoke with the bright summer sun in my eyes, shining through the window of my bedroom. Damn, I had forgotten to close my curtains last night. Back home - no, on the mainland, the summers were nothing like this. Nothing back on the mainland was like the OBX. And I was glad for it.

Taking in the sounds of the waves lapping at the end of the long 'front garden' of The Chateau and the sounds of birds singing in the trees outside of my window, I tried to let myself savour it before letting the memories of the day before flood in.

It couldn't last forever though. I rolled over in my double bed, reaching for my phone which was perched on my bedside table - on charge and it had been for the whole night. Tapping the screen, it lit up, telling me that it was late morning and revealing a message from JJ. But nothing from Rafe.

I trust you, Avi. And I trust that you will make the right choices. I'll make things right with the others and we will get the gold. Then we can all be free.

It was so serious for JJ, and so unexpected that I reread it three times before putting my phone down.

Was JJ okay? Had something else happened since he had dropped me off home last night? I prayed not. JJ deserved everything, certainly better than what the world had given him for a father. I had no doubt that Luke Maybank would make JJ's life even worse until the restitution was paid back. But JJ was strong. And we would have the gold soon. Enough money to take us far from anyone that would try to hurt us. His father and my mother.

It surprised me that there was no message from Rafe. Was he really that mad? I guess I couldn't blame him. We had spent the night together, and then I had ridden off with JJ, after jumping to conclusions about Rafe's behaviour with Barry and throwing it in his face.

Rafe, I'm sorry about yesterday. I really am. Please can I see you and we can talk?

I sent it before my nerves could talk me out of it. Within seconds, I could see that he had read it and before I knew it a message came through. It was an address, but one I did not recognise. Googling it, I found that it was another house on Figure Eight, not too far from Rafe's house. But why would he send it to me? Was he there and not home?

Not dwelling on it, I pulled myself out of bed and quickly showered and got myself ready for the day. John B would be out on his fishing trip with Ward by now, and hopefully he would be home soon. And tonight we would all go and retrieve the rest of the gold. I just needed to make up with Rafe and my day would be complete.

Within thirty minutes, I looked presentable enough in a yellow shirt with puffed sleeves, and a light blue denim skirt. Rafe had said his favourite colour was yellow, so I hoped this would work in my favour.

The living room was empty and quiet as I walked through it, so unlike most mornings I had woken up here since my arrival. I was accustomed to the sight of either John B or JJ sitting on the sofa, or out in the front yard chatting away or swinging on the hammocks. Soon though, things would be as they should be. We would all be a family and have no one to answer too.

Outside of The Chateau was a hot tub with multicoloured lights hanging from it, large enough to fit all of us Pogues in it. Forgotten plastic champagne flutes floated on the still water. alongside a blowup flamingo. When had this gotten here? Who had bought it? One person came to mind. JJ. But I had seen him in the late afternoon and when he had dropped me home, the hot tub certainly hadn't been there. How strange. I would have to ask him about it later.

The walk from The Chateau to Figure Eight had become a family one, although the last part of my journey was new. I walked up the address that Rafe had text me and gazed up at it. It was slightly smaller than the Cameron mansion, and far less imposing. It was an oversized beach house, three stories tall with azure-grey walls and a shining white roof. Was Rafe here? Did the Cameron's also own this house?

I walked the path to the front door and knocked, but there was no answer. I knocked again, and then twisted the door handle. It opened under my touch. Entering the house, it was not surprising to see the expensive furniture, the oversized kitchen and dining room. Stairs wound upwards, but that was not what interested me. Through the double glass doors on the other side of the room, I could see a long deck that lead towards the beach. And at the end of the deck, was Rafe.

Taking a breath, I walked towards him. His head snapped up quickly as I opened the door, but he did not smile at me. Instead he watched me as I approached him, the deck-pier going on forever. My footsteps were shaky, as were my hands but I clenched them into fists at my sides to calm them.

Finally, I was in front of him. And I was shocked. And reminded of JJ's words from yesterday.

"He beat up, Pope. He attacked us at the OBX movie night. He is friends with the local drug dealer."

He was sat leisurely on the sleek blue outdoor sofa, his arms spread along the wooden back. And in front of him, was a mess. A bong, still smoking, empty and full cans of beer, and most importantly, small, thin lines next to a rolled up dollar note.

"Rafe," I whispered. "What is this?"

His cornflower blue eyes stared up at me, a harsh ice in them, taking in my reaction. Despite the obvious malice in his stare, my stomach clenched at the sight of him. He was so attractive, more handsome than anyone I had ever met. "What does it look like?"

"Well it looks like the remnants of a party, but you're the only one here."

"Then it must be mine." His words were short and sharp, accusing me of something. "You wanted to talk?"

"I did," I conceded. "Don't you?"

"I don't think that there is much to say, Avery. We were having a lovely breakfast, and as usual, you thought the worst of me, and then ran off before I could explain to you what was really happening." He pulled one of his hands away from the back of the sofa and leant it on his knee. The cuts on his knuckles had scabbed over. "And then you left me for JJ. So, like I said. I do not think that there is much to say."

The wind was warm as it blew in from the sea; the salt and tang of the ocean filled my nose. "It wasn't like that Rafe."

He stood up, towering over me, only the wooden coffee table in between us. "Then tell me what it was like."

There was something off about him. His eyes were sharp, his movements fast. Was he high now? It wasn't even lunchtime.

"There is too much to explain, Rafe, and besides, it isn't my business to tell you. It's my friends'."

"Your friends have too many secrets. Even from you, I imagine."

Ignoring the jibe at my friends, and accepting that Rafe would never like them, I continued. "I can only say that I'm sorry that things turned out the way that they did. I mean it."

You're sorry?"

"I am."

"Sorry for what part exactly? Always choosing to think the worst about me? Choosing your friends over me time and time again? Leaving me alone yesterday-"

"You made the decision for me," I cut in.

He made slow steps around the coffee table towards me. I couldn't tell if he was drunk or high, or both. Or neither. He was right - I did need to stop always assuming the worst of him.

"Don't you dare say that. I could see where your mind was going - I know you, remember? And you were going to pick JJ. I only helped out. For you."

"I didn't pick JJ, not in the way that you're implying, at least. I swear."

"Why should I believe you. He's fucked you before, so why wouldn't he again? If he loves you like I do, then he wouldn't pass up the opportunity."

If he loves you like I do. Thank God he was still saying that he loved me. My heart swelled at the thought, and I met Rafe's eyes, trying to convey all of my feelings to him.

"We didn't sleep together."

"Well, isn't that a relief." The sarcasm in his voice stung. "Do you still love him."

"I never said that I did-"

"But you used to, that much is clear, Avery. You talk about him differently than you do the others. It's like an old wound that you can't help but pick at with him. You keep going back, and away from me-"

"No, Rafe, it's not like that!" I rushed forwards, taking his warm hands in mine. "I love you! I don't love JJ, not anymore. He was my past, something that is gone now. He cares for someone else."

"And if he didn't care for someone else?"

"Then I would still love you. I would still choose you."

Finally, the ice in his eyes softened fractionally. An iceberg becoming smaller, melting in the sun. "You would choose me?"

"Every time."

He leaned down, his lips capturing mine in a searing kiss. Had he never been chosen before? Never been picked first? His kiss told me so, told me that he was grateful for my words, for my choice.

He moved his lips skilfully against mine, his tongue running over my bottom lip until I granted him access. Our tongues met in a battle for dominance, but as Rafe's hand came to my hip, pushing me backwards until my back hit the deck-rail, he won. He took over the kiss entirely, squeezing my hip tightly in his grip as his other hand came up the back of my head, tangling his long fingers in my loose hair.

And then I noticed it. The taste of beer in his mouth. Surely he wasn't high as well. Maybe the drugs weren't his? Maybe they were someone else's, the person who lived here?

Either way, we had just made up and I was not going to ruin it. I cared for Rafe too much. Besides, I had my own secrets. He could have his. As long as they didn't ruin us.

It was only as his hand on my hip started to crawl to the hem of my skirt that I pulled away. My skin was hot and I could feel the flush on my cheeks as I looked up at him.

"Rafe, no - we're out in the open. Anyone can see us."

"Who cares?" he whispered. "Let them see."

His hand continued to move up leg, fingers now under my skirt. "Rafe, stop-"

"You said that you love me."

"I do!"

"Then who cares who sees? I certainly don't."

Was I overthinking things? I looked over to the beach and could see no one occupying the sandy shore. No one to see us. But still, it felt wrong.

But I didn't want to take a step backwards, now that Rafe and I were no longer arguing.

His hand continued up my skirt, his warm fingers tracing my skin softly. His eyes were intense, the blue in them almost gone around his blown-wide pupils. Lust or drugs? I wanted to know, but couldn't bring myself to ask.

I only nodded and let Rafe continue his movements. The hand in my hair tightened as his hand found home. He moved my thong aside, his fingers instantly sliding into me without any preamble. I gasped at the sudden intrusion with no warning, but before I could anything, he was moving his hand at a fast pace, curling his fingers inside of me. My hand fell to his shoulder to hold myself up as my knees went weak. His lips were on my neck, sliding down my skin to my shoulder. As he curled his fingers again perfectly, he bit into my shoulder, sharp teeth breaking the skin. Rafe continued to move his hand as he kissed at the fresh bite mark on my skin. My hips were rocking back and forth against him, trying to catch the feeling that was building in my core, chasing the pleasure that Rafe's touch was elliciting. As it finally built up to its peak, Rafe's thumb came up to play with my clit, just as his other hand detangled from my hair and cupped my breast. His fingers traced my nipple under my shirt, the buds hard and sensitive to his touch.

And then it hit me, washing over me like the shores that were ever so close to us. I leant my hand back, my hips stuttering and legs clamping around his hand as my orgasm took over everything. I was dimly aware of Rafe's lips leaving my shoulder, or that his hand was still rocking against me. I was on my tiptoes, eyes scrunched in pleasure, and as the wave finally subsided, I opened my eyes. Rafe was there right in front of me, his eyes taking in the sight of me climaxing from his fingers, and he was smirking.

"Rafe," I whispered.

"I think that even if anyone was watching you, Avery, they would only be entranced by how amazing you look when you cum."

My already flushed cheeks reddened further at his words, and I looked down, but the hand that had been on my breast came up to my chin and pulled my head up. He leaned in to kiss me again, and I reciprocated the gesture.

"I love you," he mumbled against my lips, and I smiled. I kissed him hungrily, ignoring the taste of alcohol and savouring the rest of him. He was all summer, his bright blue eyes, tanned skin and hair with blonder strips from the sun making him look like a fresh ray of sun to me. Maybe that was only because I loved him.

"Let's take this to the couch," he said and I let him lead me along, not knowing what he was expecting. All of his anger was gone, apparently, leaving behind only the love that I was used to - but there was something else. I couldn't put my finger on it. His movements were quick, faster than usual and more eager than I had expected, something different about them. I wanted to push past it, I really did.

But then Rafe ruined it. He lightly tapped my shoulders once I was stood in front of the couch, and I sat down, looking up at him. He sat next to me, but instead of kissing me or talking to me, he leaned towards the coffee table. Before I could say anything or try to intervene, he had picked up the dollar note and inhaled one of the small lines of white.

I gaped at him. Was he serious? He wiped his nose and then turned to me, clearly ignoring the incredulous look that I was giving him. He leaned over me, body covering mine as he kissed me again. It took me a couple of seconds for my mind to catch up, but as it did, I found my hands pushing at his shoulders.

"Rafe, stop it! Get off of me."

He did stop kissing me but did not move. Instead he reached down to my legs, pulling them over the couch so that was led completely flat on its surface and he hovered over me. I did not miss the way that his eyes roamed my face and down to my chest which was heaving with alarm.

"What's wrong?" His eyes were blank, a blank sky with nothing in it.

"What did you just do?"

He looked from me to the table and back again. "What? That? Who cares?"

"I care," I protested. "I am not going to sleep with you when you are high."

"Why not? It makes no difference."

"It does to me!" I exclaimed, my hands coming up once again to shove at his shoulders. But instead, he grabbed them, his long fingers wrapping themselves around my wrists and pushing them down on either side of my head.

"Why should it make any difference, Avery? It's still me, and I still love you. I've been doing it all morning. I was high when you just let me finger you for all the world to see. You came all the same.

At the vulgarity of his words, I felt tears fill my eyes. I tried to lift my wrists, to push at him but he was too strong. No surprise there. Rafe was slim but his shoulders were broad and his arms extremely muscular.

"Get off of me."

"No."

Everything within my chest sunk at his one word.

His mouth took on a cold smirk at my struggles, at the power he had over me. "You honestly expect me to believe that none of your Pogue friends have ever done drugs in front of you. That you haven't?"

"I haven't," I retaliated. "And none of them do cocaine. And especially not when they're trying to have sex with me!"

It was the wrong thing to say. Something darkened in his glare and he released one of my hands to grip my chin harshly. "When they are trying to have sex with you? I thought it was just JJ, and certainly not recently. Is it Pope as well? Or do you have something going on with Kiara? Have you slept with them all?" He grimaced. "As a matter of fact, when was the last time that you slept with JJ?"

I didn't want to lie to him. I hadn't slept with either Kie or Pope, but only last week I had slept with JJ. Keeping quiet, I watched as he seemed to acknowledge my lack of words. Would he question me further if I didn't answer?

He was drunk and high, and all I was feeling was fear. I had never seen such an anger on his handsome face, and I started struggling again, twisting my body to try and wriggle free from him.

I stopped as soon as he pressed his lower half against me, his prominent erection tight within his shorts.

"Go on, keep moving like that, Avery. You're not going anywhere and it's only making me want you more."

I swallowed hard. "Rafe, please let me go. I won't tell anyone."

"Tell anyone what? Avery, I am Rafe Cameron. Everyone knows I do drugs, and better yet, everyone knows who my father is. I am untouchable on this island. And besides, I haven't done anything. Everything that we have ever done has been mutual, and even if I was to fuck you right now, it would be consensual. You want me. If you didn't, I wouldn't have been able to finger you as easily as I did - my god, I had barely even touched you and you were soaked for me. Go on, tell me you don't want me and I will get off of you."

I stared up at him, trying to ignore the bruisingly tight grip on my chin as he clenched my bones in his grip. He lowered himself even further, brushing up against me and I clenched my legs. I couldn't say that I didn't want him. But it didn't mean that I had to give in to him.

"I don't want to sleep with you."

His eyes gleamed. "Liar."

"Please, Rafe, we only just made up. I don't want to sleep with you when you're high and I don't like how you're acting."

"Your opinion does mean something to me, but right now I am far too hard to care. The image of you in your bed only two nights ago has been keeping me going for the past twenty four hours, and sweetheart, I want another taste. You've given yourself to me, and now there's no going back for me."

"What are you talking about?"

He stared down at me as if I had just asked him something utterly ridiculous. "I love you, Avery. You are mine now, and if I want to fuck you right now on this sofa then I will. And you will enjoy it, I promise you."

"I won't."

"Shall we put your little challenge to the test? I do love to win after all-"

And he leaned down, his nose grazing my cheek, his lips then moving to my ear, but just as I thought he was going to say something, a phone cut through the tense air. It wasn't my ringtone, it was Rafe's.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, finally releasing my chin. It felt like blood could finally rush back to my jaw, and I stared up at him, confused. He still held one of my wrists down against the cushion but reached over to grab his phone and answered.

Rafe was silent as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the phone. Then he nodded.

"Yes, she's with me now."

I paled. Who was enquiring about me? "Rafe!" I yelled. "Let me-"

He released my wrist and placed his hand over my mouth, smothering my yells. My hands clawed at his wrist, trying to get him to release me, but he only stared down at me, amused.

"Sure, I'll tell her. Thanks."

He hung up the phone and let me go. I sat up and finally pulled myself away, scrambling to the other end of the sofa and away from him. Would he really have done all of those things that he had said, without my consent?

"Who was that?" I said hoarsely.

"My Dad," he said casually, turning to me so that his attention was entirely focused on me. "He and John B had arrived back from their boat trip, but there was an accident. Your cousin is hurt and my Dad said you should come over."

Momentarily I tried to push the events of the last half an hour away. "What happened? Is he okay?"

"He should be fine, but my Dad said that you should come to the house."

"I'll go."

"I'll take you."

I stood up, moving away from Rafe. "No, I'll get there myself."

He stood up, his breathing heavy as he adjusted himself. I tried to forget what he had nearly just done to me. John B was what mattered.

"Fine, Avery. I didn't want to worry you, but he is quite badly hurt and my Dad said that we need to hurry. So would you rather walk, or I can drive you over?"

He knew he had me, knew that I cared about John B more than anything and if he was hurt, I would do anything for him.

"Fine," I whispered, defeat in my voice. "Let's go. And please hurry."

Rafe walked over to me slowly, his every footstep putting fear into me. He knew what he was doing, I was sure of it. Slowly, he leaned down and kissed my cheek.

"We'll continue where we left off later," he whispered, and then his hand moved to the top of my arm before I could stop him. "And don't think I don't want an answer to my question. Because believe me, I do. And I'm sure I'm not going to like the answer."

"What question?"

"How recently you slept with JJ."

Perhaps this was going to be my only way away from him. If he felt betrayed enough, perhaps he would let me go and not do this to me again. I didn't want to lose Rafe, I really didn't, but he couldn't behave like this.

Even if he left me now, I could run over to the Cameron House without him and get to John B.

A smug, grim smile filled my face.

"I slept with JJ last week."

Everything was wiped from his face, every emotion both happy and sad. A muscle jumped in his cheek, his jaw was clenched and the grip on my arm tightened so that all the blood was cut off.

"You-"

"You wanted the truth. There it is," I spat. "Now let me go."

I didn't know what to expect. Would he yell at me, call me names, shove me away?

He did none of those things. He only pulled at my arm, turning to the glass doors.

"Let's go and see your cousin."

Somehow, his reaction was worse than anything I could have thought of.

Perhaps he was done with me now. This would only be a betrayal to him, wouldn't it?

He pulled me after him, not turning to look at me, not even as we reached his bike and he shoved his helmet over my head.

I was terrified. But if John B was hurt, I would have to put that fear aside for him.

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