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nights-legacy · 8 months ago

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M'not Avoiding Him ~ Tsu'tey x reader

Main Masterlist ~ Avatar Masterlist

3350 words Warnings: vague mentions of injury + The Omaticaya begin recovering and rebuilding after the sky people left under the guidance of their new Olo'eyktan, Tsu'tey. Jake and you had gone through the transfer ceremony, you both start finding your place in the clan. You thought yours was going to be next to Tsu'tey because of how close you two had gotten close but that changed when you catch him with another woman.

It took a while for things to settle down after the great war and the Battle of the Hallelujah Mountains. The Omaticaya had to find a new home, the other clans returning to theirs, and the full transition to the new Olo'eyktan. Tsu'tey was taking the new position with stride. Not only because he had been training for this but also he had the help and support of Moat, Neytiri, Jake, and I.

Over that time and after Jake and I were permanently transferred to our Navi bodies With much reluctance, Tsu'tey had become accepting of us. He and Jake of course still butt heads but that will never change. Tsu'tey and I however grew closer. He seemed to really enjoy my company.

"Thank you, Ninat. I'll make sure Tsu'tey gets this." I held the bag of items that she asked me to deliver. I walked through the newly constructed village. It was nice to see the people getting back to their normal way of life. I made it to the Olo'eyktan's meeting marui. When I noticed a meeting going on inside, I walked over to a nearby branch and lounged on it.

"Hey Y/N!" I looked up and saw Jake walking my way. Behind him, many others exited the marui.

"Hi Jake. Meeting over?"

"Yeah. You could have come in. I doubt Tsu'tey would have said anything." He leant against the tree. I shrugged. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Tsu'tey asked Ninat for something. I'm delivering them for her." I said, motioning to the bag.

"Well, you can go on in. I got to meet Norm. Bye." He waved as he ran off. I got up and walked towards the entrance to the hut. I paused when I saw Tsu'tey and sighed. He was picking up a few things that were scattered. He then stood up straight and looked over something. From here it looked like a child's drawing. A rare soft smile came across his face. I smiled as a warm feeling came over me. It was crazy how small things can fill my heart.

"Cute." I mumbled. I was about to step forward when I saw a woman come into view. Tsu'tey's smile disappeared as he turned towards her. I couldn't see his face anymore.

I couldn't hear them but I could tell by the woman's body language and facial expression that she was flirting. I watched silently as she got more and more friendly. Tsu'tey didn't seem to react much. I felt my heart constrict at the sight. When she stepped in even closer, I immediately turned away when she went to wrap her arms around him.

"Nope, nope, nope." I walk back down the path a bit. I took a big breath to calm myself down. "You don't know what was going on. It could be nothing. Don't jump to conclusions." I talked myself down while clutching the bag to my chest. Once calmed down, I slowly walk back up and towards the hut. To avoid seeing them like that again, I call out Tsu'tey's name.

"In here. Come in, eylan." He answered before I heard him quietly speak to the woman. I heard something along the lines of 'you need to go.' I walked in and the woman walked past me in a huff. "How can I help you, eylan?" He looked up at the time.

"I have the things from Ninat you asked for." I took the bag off my shoulder. He reached out and took it from me, his hand brushing over mine.

"Thank you." He smiled and turned to set the bag aside. "I didn't see you at the meeting. Was something wrong?"

"No I was just getting back from an evening flight and Mo’at asked for help then Ninat caught me."

"Oh, very well. I'm glad there wasn't anything wrong." He said sincerely. I nod and look away from him. I kept seeing the other woman hanging off him. "Is something the matter?"

"No, I'm just hungry."

"Oh, well." He grabbed the bag. "Let us head to dinner."

"Okay."

After that evening, I sorta avoided Tsu'tey. I had started to notice the woman around him more. I decided to keep my distance. The things I normally help Tsu'tey with, I made excuses to not do. Everytime I could see the confusion on his face but he never said anything. But Neytiri did.

"Why?" She said out of the blue as she and Jake sat down next to me.

"Hmm?" I looked up at her. "Why what?"

"Why are you avoiding Tsu'tey?" Jake asked.

"M’not avoiding him. I've just been busy and can't help him like I normally do."

"Uh huh. Yeah." Jake said almost sarcastically. The looks they were both giving me told me they didn't believe me. I signed and looked back at my snack. I spaced out a little until Jake snapped to get my attention.

"It's really nothing guys. I swear." I got up. I brushed off my lap. "Don't worry about it." I walked away. I didn't mention that I had noticed Tsu'tey nearby.

I groaned as I walked towards Tsutey's hut. Mo’at had asked me to go ask him to come see her. She couldn't go see him herself because she was extremely busy. I couldn't say no to her and I had a feeling Jake or Neytiri had something to do with this.

"Sneaky little shits." I mumbled as I climbed up the tree to his home. I made it up and stepped in. Normally Tsu'tey never has anyone in his home. This time I was wrong. I gasped when I saw the woman wrapped Tsu'tey. He was backed up against the wall with his hands on her waist. Both of their eyes shot towards me.

"Y/N..." Tsu’tey's face twisted as he pushed her away. "Please listen. I..." I didn't let him finish before running out. I jumped and climbed down from the tree. I took off running in a random direction. I could feel my heart break as I ran.

Tsu'tey was following. and calling for me to stop. I didn't listen, I couldn't. If there was one thing I was grateful for Neytiri teaching me at this moment, it was how to run and disappear into the trees. I could hear him getting closer and I moved faster. Silently, I slip behind a boulder near a cliff edge and stay still.

"Y/N!" Tsu'tey came into the clearing and slowed to a stop. I could hear him turn in circles, looking around for me. "Y/N! Please! If you can hear me, it wasn't what you think. That woman does not mean anything to my heart."

"hmm?" I made a small sound of confusion before covering my mouth.

"I don't have any feelings for her! What you saw in my home, I did not return. She has no respect for boundaries no matter how many times I have refused her advances. My heart only and ever will belong... to you." He said quietly but I could hear it. If this were a human male, I would call bullshit. But with Navi men, most don't believe in playing around.

"Tsu'tey..." My heart told me to go to him but my head was too overwhelmed, too confused.

"Ga!" He yelled in frustration. I heard the sound of flesh against a tree so I assumed he had hit one. Too overwhelmed and still in doubt by the whole thing, I stepped back to sneak away. I didn't get too far before I felt the ground give way under my feet.

"Ah!" I screamed as I fell. I tried to grab onto something but came up with nothing.

"Y/N!" Tsutey's panicked voice was the last thing I heard before pain exploded in my body before I was knocked out.

3rd POV

Tsu'tey ran over to the cliff and saw Y/N unconscious at the bottom. He let out a cry before descending down to then. With shaky hands he checked them over to assess the situation. When Y/N didn't look in danger of fatality, he relaxed a bit. He closed his eyes and took a centering breaker.

"Oh Eywa..." He muttered before carefully picking them up. Before anything else, he ran for Mo’at's hut. "Mo’at!"

"Dear Eywa!" She jumped and nearly dropped the bowl of oitment she was holding, spooked. She looked at him annoyed before seeing Y/N in their state. She motioned to a mat. "Lay them down."

"Yes." He quickly and gently laid them down. Mo’at immediately began attending to them. "A cliff gave way under her feet."

"I see." She nodded. She worked quickly and efficiently. Tsu'tey sat on the side, never leaving and never looking away. He kept vigilance over Y/N even after Mo’at had finished and stepped out.

Y/N's POV

The feeling of someone running their fingers through my hair woke me up. I groaned softly and their fingers paused for only a minute before continuing. I opened my eyes and looked up at the blurry figure above me. When my vision cleared, I realized it was Neytiri and my head was in her lap.

"Neytiri..." I sighed. "What happened?"

"A cliff's edge gave way under your feet." She explained. "Tsu'tey found and brought you to my Mother immediately."

"Oh, Okay. Yeah, I remember that now." I muttered as the ache in my body made itself known.

"You know... He hasn't left your side since." I looked up at her confused. She motioned to the side with her head. I looked and saw Tsu'tey asleep against the wall next to me.

"Oh..." I felt my heart swell.

"There is nothing between them, eylan." I looked up at her. "Tsu'tey and Lulon."

"There isn't? Nothing at all?" I sat up too quickly. She steadied me.

"No. Much to her displeasure." I gave her a questioning look and she chuckled softly. "Lulon has been trying to pursue Tsu'tey ever since they both were able to take mates. She was relentless with it, even though Tsu'tey did not return her advances. She tried even when he was to be mated with Sylwanin and then myself. She didn't care nor listen to reason. She only halted her advances when the fight with the sky people got worse."

"Are you serious?" I asked in disbelief. She nodded. "She's a bitch."

"I have to agree." She laughed. "Tsu'tey was always cordeil in his denial of her. I think she thought she had a chance now since he was not promised to anyone. What she didn't count on was his heart already belonging to someone else." She smirked before getting up.

"Where are you going?"

"To get Mother. So she can check to make sure you are alright now that you're awake." I nodded and she left. I turned to look at the sleeping Tsu'tey. He must have been exhausted if Neytiri and mine's talking didn't wake him up. I admired him, my head falling to the side like a puppy’s.

"What am I going to do with you?" I whispered as I moved a braid out of his face. I giggled as his nose scrunched but he didn’t wake. It faded away when I noticed his bruised and bloody hand. From the looks of it, that's the hand he hit the tree with before I fell. I scooted closer and gently shook him. I softly called his name, trying to wake him up.

"Hmph." He jolted awake, hand coming up to grab my wrist. He blinked a few times before he seemed to fully come to.

"Hey there sleepy head." I giggled softly. He became alert immediately, grabbing me gently by the arms.

"Y/N! Are you alright? Are you in pain? I'll go get Mo’at. I'll..."

"Hey, hey. Calm down." I interrupted his rambling, setting my hands on his chest. "I'm fine. I do have some aches. Neytiri already left to get Mo’at."

"Neytiri?"

"Yes. She was in here sitting with me while you slept." He relaxed.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Only a short bit. Long enough for Neytiri to tell me about Lulon and her actions." He sighed and let his head fall back.

"I see." He nodded before swallowing a little hard and licking his bottom lip. I looked at him confused.

"What is it, Tsu'tey?"

"Did you hear me? Yesterday? Before you fell." He asked almost nervously as his eyes met mine. I smiled and cupped his cheek.

"Yes. I did." He looked down. I can see the curiosity and nervousness swimming in his eyes even as he wasn’t looking directly at me. "And my response is that I feel the same. My heart only belongs to you."

"Y/N." The rare, energetic smile I love came across his face as he looked up at me. He gathered me in his arms and hugged me right. I giggled and hugged him back. "Oh, yawne. You've made me the happiest man alive. You will not regret this I promise."

"I know. I know I made the right choice in my mate." I placed my hand over his heart. "I see you, Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan. " He set his hand over mine and set his forehead against mine.

"And I see you, Y/N L/N." We sat in each other's embrace for a little bit before a small knock filled the air. We both looked to see Mo’at in the opening to the hut with a small smile.

"I hope I am not interpreting."

"No. Come in. This is your space after all." Tsu'tey waved her in. She came in and I pulled away reluctantly to let her check me over. It was quiet for the moment. She deemed me okay and to take it easy. I nodded and she asked, "So, do I need to begin Tsahik training?"

"Oh um..." I blushed and looked at Tsu'tey for help.

"In time, Mo’at. For now, let us spend time together and become One. There is time for that later. I know from personal experience that Y/N is a quick study." He took my hand and kissed my palm. I could see Mo’at hiding a smile in my peripheral vision.

"Of course." She finished up before looking at us. "I am happy for you both.Truly. Eywa has blessed you both."

"Thank you Mo'at." I said before giving the seeing gesture. She returned before giving Tsu'tey a hard look.

"Now sit. Let me see that hand of yours you refuse to let me look at in all your worrying." She pointed at the mat. I giggled as his ears fell back like a scolded child. He gave me a half hearted pointed Look and I covered my mouth still giggling.

"Yes Tsahik." He moved over and gave her his injured hand. I moved to sit on my knees behind him. I kissed his shoulder before setting my chin there, resting my body against his back and loosely Wrapping an arm around him. He froze up for only a second before relaxing into me, holding his free arm over mine.

"They're cute." I heard a muffled Jake say from somewhere outside.

"Jake!" Neytiri hissing and a loud smack followed. I chuckled and Mo’at rolled her eyes.

"Just like children ..." She muttered.

"Hey! I heard that!"

"Jake!" Another smack sound.

"Ow! Damn!" Jake fell into the doorway of the hut. I saw him glare at someone who I suspected was Neytiri before looking at us. He smiled sheepishly with a little wave. "Hiya."

"Skxawng" Tsu'tey muttered before turning to nose at my cheek. I smiled wrapped my other arm around his shoulders.

"I was rooting for you two from the very beginning." He sat up before moving onto a knee.

"Jake..." I chuckled and shook my head. He smiled cheekily before he was grabbed by his kuru. I saw Neytiri lean into view and smile.

"Congratulations." She bowed her head with an I see you before pulling on Jake's kuru.

"GA! Okay okay. I'm coming." Jake flailed a bit as she pulled him back. He stumbled to his feet and disappeared from sight. I heard Mo’at grumble.

“Just like a child.” She shook her head as she finished Tsu’tey’s hand. She stood up and grabbed a leaf wrap to cover the wounds. “There you are. Now let it heal before doing anything too stressful on that hand. I trust you can keep him in check, Y/N.”

“Of course Tsahik.” I stood up and so did Tsu’tey. Bidding goodbye to Mo’at, we walked out of the marui. We walked through the trees in silence. Tsu’tey reached out and set his hand on my hip, pulling me closer to him.

“Yawne. I cannot express how happy you’ve made me feel.”

“I think I know a way.” I said while stopping. He stopped and turned to look at me. He gave me a questioning look as I felt his hand spread out on my hip.

“How Yawne?” He asked.

“Like this.” I reached up and cupped the back of his neck, pulling him down into a passionate kiss. He froze up for a second before kissing me back. His arms wrapped around me. One around my waist while the other wrapped around my mid-back and he reached up to cup the back of my head as the kiss deepened.

“I see what you mean, Yawne.” He says as he pulls back. We were both panting slightly. He ducked down to kiss me again. I smiled into the kiss and deepened the kiss. Tsu’tey pushed me back a little and I felt the bark of a tree against my back. We made out for a few minutes against the tree until an exaggerated gasp interrupted us. We both pulled away to see Lulon standing there.

“What is this?!” She nearly screeched.

“This is a kiss between lovers. I am aware that the concept of lovers is foreign to you but I would appreciate it if you stop bothering Tsu’tey with your obsessive crush. He has let you down nicely so I am here to tell you bluntly. He does not feel the same nor has he ever felt the same.” I said. She looked at me offended while I could feel Tsu’tey looking at me in surprise.

“I cannot believe…” She started.

“Believe it. If you bother my future mate again, we will have problems. You should have respected it when you Ole’eyktan when he turned you down.” I said. She paled a little and looked between us. She nodded and quickly disappeared into the trees.

“Future mate?” I blushed heavily at the suggestive tone of Tsu’tey’s voice. I turned and hit his chest.

“Shut up.” I muttered. He laughed wholeheartedly and I admired the rare sight. He slowly stopped and smiled down at me.

“Well as your future mate, I appreciate getting Lulon to leave me alone…finally. Do you know how long I have tried to deter her? She doesn’t know boundaries.” He began to rant. I watched, chucking a bit. He paused when he heard me chuckle.

“Jake has rubbed off on you a little bit.” I said. His nose scrunched up a bit with disgust before his shoulders dropped.

“Maybe a small amount.” He said. I smiled and grabbed his hand.

“Come on. I think we both need some more rest.”

“I agree.” He pulls me along a trail. We walked for a while before he guided me to a secluded small pond. On the side of the pond was mat and some baskets. “This is a spot where I come to be alone or clear my head. I want to share this spot with you.”

“Thank you, Tsu’tey.” He went over and sat on the mat, beckoning me over. I go over and sit next to him. I feel his tail wrap around my hips and he lays down.

“Come, lay down.” He gently urges.

“The tough warrior, acting so gentle right now.” I tease before laying down and settling down next to him. He shook his hand before he took my hand and let out a breath of content.

“Let Ewya bless us with a wonderous life.” He said softly before kissing my hand. The sounds of the wildlife and gentle breeze around us seemed to promise just that.

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urmum-lovesme · 5 days ago

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Angel Baby - Rafe Cameron x Kook!reader P9

pairing: Best Friend!Rafe Cameron x Kook!Best-Friend!reader

summary: Rafe and Reader have known each other since kindergarten, always side by side, the king and princess of Figure 8. So why now does he start feeling different towards her, when all she's ever been is his best friend?

a/n: Is it too late now to say sorry... upside of this chapter, we get some of the Pogues in it we love our queen Sarah :) Downside of this chapter well... then end (actually maybe the whole thing) :/. Happy birthday to my girl y/n, Rafe on the other hand, well I have no comment, I don't wanna see the guy after this chapter I hate him so much he's so destructive. (this is so season 2 Rafe)

warnings: ANGST!!! alcohol, mentions of deceased brother, mentions of overdosing, smoking, drugs (weed, cocaine), drug abuse, strong language (bitch, slut junkie ect), making out, mommy issues :(, references to past trauma, rafe being an asshole, violence (a slap, shoving someone, grabbing someone, smashing glass).

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A few weeks had passed since that day at the hut, and the atmosphere between Y/N and Rafe remained heavy with unspoken words. The gap where their banter used to be was almost unbearable, the girl avoided him, not out of anger but because she simply didn’t know what to say. The words she wanted to speak felt trapped in her throat, tangled with emotions she couldn’t quite name. When they were with the group she wore her brightest smiles and laughed a little louder than usual, as though she could drown out the tension with forced cheer. Her efforts worked well enough to maintain the surface-level peace, but beneath her facade the strain weighed on her. Their friends weren’t blind. Kelce and Topper could see it in the way they avoided each other’s eyes; conversations between the two were clipped and strained, only happening when absolutely necessary. It was like watching two people perform a carefully rehearsed play, one with no emotion behind the lines.

Cooper had noticed.

He wasn’t as oblivious, watching Y/N navigate this awkward dance with Rafe made something twist in his chest, he felt pity for the girl, knowing how much she cared about the boy and how close they’d always been. Still, if he were being honest, part of him didn’t mind the shift. The distance between Y/N and Rafe had given him a chance to step in, to be the one she leaned on, even if only a little. He wasn’t proud of how much he enjoyed the- ‘unfortunate’ situation the girl was in but the small moments they shared made up for it, like when she laughed at his jokes or tilted her head closer to hear him speak. Those fleeting interactions sent a thrill through him that he couldn’t ignore. He knew he was toeing a line, but he couldn’t stop himself from wondering what might happen if things stayed the way they were.

One humid evening, the five of them were lounging by Kelce’s pool. The sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of orange and pink. The backyard was the perfect hangout spot—spacious, with the cool water offering relief from the heat and a bar stocked with anything they could want. Yet, despite that, the tension between Y/N and Rafe was inescapable, the space by Y/n’s side which was often occupied by the boy was now replaced by Cooper, whose hand rested over the back of the seat.

Anger bubbled in Rafe's chest, but it wasn’t the kind of fury he could direct outward—it twisted inward instead, sharp and self-inflicted. He was the one who’d told her he didn’t want her. The memory of that moment was seared into his mind, the expression on her face when he’d told her, told her the repulsive lie about them being friends, was always present in his mind; when he went to sleep, when he woke in the morning, it never left. He had no one to blame but himself.

“So Princess,”

Topper began, breaking the quiet as he turned his attention to Y/N. The nickname rolled off his tongue with a teasing familiarity, drawing a faint smile from her. He’d been watching her and Rafe long enough to sense the shift, though he kept his observations to himself. Rafe was his best friend, and Y/N was practically family. Of course, he noticed when something was off.

“A special day is coming up…”

He added, his tone playful as he referred to her birthday, just a week away. Y/N met Topper’s gaze, her expression carefully neutral. Kelce and Cooper perked up at his words, their curiosity piqued.

“Oh, yeah,” Kelce chimed in, smirking. “I’d almost forgotten about that.”

“Isn’t it like a national holiday on the island or something..?”

Cooper added in mock seriousness his eyebrows furrowing as though in thought. Y/N rolled her eyes at their antics, hand coming out to shove the boy sitting next to her though her lips twitched into a faint smile. She wasn’t annoyed; their teasing was harmless, even endearing.

“You guys are ridiculous.”

She muttered, leaning back into her chair. Topper chuckled, swirling his drink lazily in his hand.

“So, have you decided what you’re doing?”

Y/N straightened slightly, placing her drink on the small stool beside her. “Well,” she began, “my parents aren’t going to be home for my birthday, going away to Georgia to see family friends or something.” A sly smile played on her lips as she watched their reactions.

“Which means…I have a free house.”

Kelce let out a low whistle, his grin widening. Cooper leaned forward, his smirk practically splitting his face.

“Free house?” Kelce said, pointing his drink at her. “You’re throwing a party, right?”

“Definitely,” Y/N said with a laugh, shaking her head at how predictable they were. “And I’m inviting everyone- Kook, Pogue, I don’t care.” she said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Gonna be the event of the summer.” Kelce said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

“Finally giving the people what they want,” Cooper joked, his grin widening. Y/N leaned slightly toward Cooper, a teasing sparkle in her eyes.

“Oh, did I say you were invited?” she quipped, one brow arching as a smirk tugged at her lips. Cooper feigned a look of hurt at her tease, putting a hand over his heart

"What? You wouldn't invite me to your birthday? I thought we were good friends," he said, emphasising his words, glass lifting to his lips to sip at the drink. She had to suppress a smile at the boys words,

“I don't know I guess I could deal with you for one night”

Cooper smirked, bringing his glass down to rest on his thigh, leaning in closer to her ear as he spoke.

“One night, huh? I think you’ll want more than that,” his voice low so only the girl could hear. She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked up to him, stomach fluttering slightly at his words.

Stop that

She gave him a slow nod, tongue coming out to wet her lips before she spoke, “That's some pretty high stakes you're setting there Miller.”

He shrugged his shoulders as he sitting back slightly, “I don’t mind a challenge”

The conversation around the pool flowed in and out of different topics, with Kelce rambling on about something completely pointless—something about a new car he was eyeing.

It doesn’t matter

Rafe’s mind was elsewhere, his focus nowhere near Kelce’s words, his eyes drifting to the side, finding Y/N and Cooper. They were talking, laughing. Y/N leaned in slightly, her smile bright, her posture relaxed as she engaged with Cooper, who was leaning just a bit closer than normal. His fingers curled into a fist around the edge of his drink, the ice rattling against the glass as his jaw tightened. He fought to maintain his composure, but a feeling gnawed at him, sharp and uncomfortable. It was jealousy, unmistakable and burning, bubbling beneath the cold surface of his expression. He watched as Cooper casually brushed his arm against Y/N’s, and the way she didn’t pull away, her eyes locked onto his, the same glint of teasing in her gaze that Rafe had always known so well. He was drawn out of his haze by the girl's voice, her eyes looking at him, dropping down to the glass in his grip, which he loosened.

“Hm?” he questioned, looking at the girl.

“You're coming as well right?” she questioned the boy's head tilting slightly as she spoke and at her question, his eyes flicked up to meet hers,

"Yeah, I'll be there. Wouldn't miss your birthday."

He sent her a tight lipped smile which she reciprocated.

Awkward

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The days merged seamlessly together as the big day approached, the whole island was buzzing with excitement, and it seemed like no one could stop talking about the infamous ‘Kook Princess’s Birthday.’ Word had spread quickly, as it always did when it came to events like this- Y/N's parties were always the event of the year, and this one promised to be no different. Every corner of the island was abuzz with gossip- Kooks and Pogues alike, the party appearing to be a middle ground for the feud between them- and even if someone wasn’t invited, they knew someone who was and were sure to be brought along as a plus one.

JJ lay back in the hammock, his hands lazily fiddling with a packet of rolling papers, pulling one out as he spoke

“So, we going or not?”

He called, his voice a mix of impatience and amusement, the hammock swaying gently beneath him. His fingers expertly rolled the paper, his focus briefly shifting to the task at hand. Pope, sitting on a log beside him, looked up from where he was lounging, taking a sip from his drink.

“I mean, Y/N seems pretty chill about it. I don’t see why not.” He paused, glancing around at the others. “But I thought it was invite-only, so—”

“She invited me,”

Sarah called out from where she’d plopped herself down into John B’s lap, her legs tangled with his. He let out a small 'oof,' surprised by the suddenness of her action, but wrapped his arms around her waist to steady her.

“She did?”

Kie and JJ spoke in unison, both turning their heads toward Sarah with wide eyes. Kie shot a glance at JJ, who was now half hanging out of the hammock, raising an eyebrow. He winked at her, clearly pleased with Sarah’s news.

“Yeah, Y/N’s really sweet,” Sarah replied with a shrug, her tone casual but sincere. “I don’t talk to her much, I guess, ‘cause she’s always with Topper and Rafe, but she’s cool.”

The names 'Topper' and 'Rafe' caused Pope to pause, his fingers scratching at his cheek as his brows furrowed in thought. “So... your brother is going to be there?” he asked, glancing over at Sarah.

JJ, who had just been about to take a hit from his joint, let out a low whistle.

"If Rafe is there we all know what's going down."

Kie looked over to the boy eyebrows raised in questioning, Pope put his drink down as he stared at the boy as he adjusted himself in the hammock, his hands moving around to mimic someone holding themselves as he dramatically moaned out,

“Oh, yes, Rafe! Don’t stop—Oh, fuck, yes—oh Rafey!”

The others groaned collectively, rolling their eyes at JJ’s antics, with Pope giving an exasperated sigh.

“C’mon, man, don’t do Y/N like that,” John B said with a stern look, pulling his can away from his lips as Sarah took it from him, taking a sip herself.

“Well, I don’t even know if Rafe is going to be there,” Sarah said, raising her hands defensively as she looked at them.

“What?” Pope asked, sitting up slightly, his interest piqued.

“I don’t know,” Sarah continued. “I just think something’s off between them. He’s been super grumpy lately, and a couple days ago, he smashed a bunch of stuff in the kitchen. My dad was pissed,” she added, the others listening closely now.

“Wow,” Kie said, shaking her head. “And a couple of days ago, Y/N showed up at The Wreck with Cooper Miller.”

“The guy from New York?” John B asked, sitting up a little straighter now, his attention fully caught.

“Yeah,” Kie nodded, her voice dropping to a lower tone, “and they were in a booth together, all giggly and everything. Kinda... flirty too.”

JJ raised an eyebrow at that, flicking the lighter on and off as he passed the joint around. “Damn,” Pope muttered, eyes glancing over at the blonde next to him, who was now blowing smoke into the air, his face unreadable. JJ, completely unbothered, took another hit and then wandered over to the group in the circle, offering the joint to Sarah and John B.

“We gon’ get lit tonight. I know Kooks always bring the good stuff, huh?” JJ grinned as he rested a hand on both John B and Sarah’s shoulders, giving them a little shake for emphasis. Sarah rolled her eyes and shook her head, clearly unimpressed.

“No, they won’t.”

“What?” John B asked, raising his brow as he sat up, adjusting Sarah in his lap.

“She said so,” Sarah said with a shrug, letting out a sigh. “Y/N said no drugs at her place. Well, maybe just weed, but she was pretty serious about it. I even saw her talking to the guy who sells stuff-”

“Kyle?” JJ spoke out hand coming up to push his hair out the way.

“Yeah Kyle, and she said she’d, like, fuck him up or something if he brought anything else.”

“Damn.” JJ raised his eyebrows, genuinely impressed. “Wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.”

Kie stood up, dusting off the back of her shorts, her mind clearly elsewhere. “Do you think it’s because of her brother?” she asked, her voice thoughtful.

“Yeah, probably.” John B shrugged, his eyes distant for a moment. “I don’t blame her.”

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

The backyard, lit by string lights that twinkle like stars above, had transformed into a vibrant scene, with the thumping bass from the speakers. Groups of people were scattered around, some clustered by the bar, whilst others were dancing, their bodies swaying to the rhythmic beats that spilled from the speakers set up, loud laughter sweeping into the silence.

Y/N moved through the crowd with a natural grace, effortlessly weaving between groups of people who were talking, laughing, and enjoying themselves. Her smile never wavered as she greeted everyone who called out to her, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she offered a quick hug here, the sound of "Happy birthday!" followed her like a soft chorus as she passed, and each greeting was met with a playful smile and a ‘Thank you!’. As she neared the door, her fingers brushed the doorframe, and she pushed it open with a small exhale, letting the cool air inside.

“Happy Birthday!”

Sarah’s voice rang out, the other pogues standing behind her. “Thank you!” Y/N called out, over the music, her voice ringing with joy, slightly buzzed from the alcohol she’d consumed. She walked over, arms open wide as she embraced the girl tightly, stepping aside to let the others in. John B gave her a playful nudge, he spoke with a smile, his tone teasing but sincere.

“You sure know how to throw a party.”

“I’d hope so. Not called the Kook Princess for nothing.”

She responded to him with a wink. The group followed the girl into the kitchen, weaving through the crowd of people plaguing the house. The girl was speaking to them, Kie nodding as she caught the ‘upstairs is off limits’. Now crowded around the kitchen island pouring their own drinks JJ leaned in towards her, grinning as he rested his hand on her waist,

“Is this the part where we all toast to your royal highness?” he teased, holding up his drink.

The girl let out a laugh as she shook her head raising her hand dismissively,

“Whatever you wish for, my faithful servant.”

The others laughed at her response but the call of her name pulled Y/n away from the conversation. She took a couple steps over to where the girl holding her hand out, leading her away, turning back to the group she spoke out loudly so they could hear,

“Have fun guys!”

She stumbled slightly as she made her way through Kooks and Pogues, an occasional cheer when she passed arising from people, others raised their drinks in a salute making her smile. Topper and Kelce appear in her vision, the two boys cheering as they spot the girl.

“Here comes the Birthday Girl!” Kelce’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of a few nearby partygoers. Topper raised his cup in the air. "Looking good, Princess!" he called, as she approached.

“Give us a spin.”

Y/N couldn't help but laugh at the challenge. With a playful roll of her eyes, she planted one foot in front of the other and spun around slowly, her arms outstretched in an exaggerated twirl. The dark red dress hugged her figure, it was shorter than she’d usually go for, she couldn't deny that throughout the night she was pretty sure she’d flashed a few people.

Who cares, it's my birthday

"Better?" she teased, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.

Kelce leaned back with an impressed whistle, his eyes scanning her with feigned admiration. "Killlllling it sexy" he teased, clearly enjoying the show. She shook her head leaning over the bar to grab her own drink, letting the cool liquid run down her throat with a burn.

"Having fun?" Topper asked, genuine curiosity.

"Are you kidding? This is my night," she tilted her head slightly and shot him a quick smile. However she couldn't stop her eyes from flickering around them searching for something… or rather someone. Topper seemed to notice her eyes flickering around, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You looking for someone?"

Her eyes darted back to the boy in front of her as he spoke, shaking her head raising the glass to her lips again and taking a quick sip before speaking,

Rafe...

“Uh- have you seen Cooper?”

She asked, her words slightly offhand, though there was a flicker of something in her voice. Her eyes swept the crowd once more, her thoughts momentarily drifting. Kelce smirked, clearly sensing the subtle shift in her behavior.

"Cooper, huh?" he teased, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes. "You know, for someone who's 'just having fun,' you sure seem eager to find him." Y/N bit back a smile, her cheeks flushing slightly, though she quickly regained her composure.

"I’m not eager."

She said, the words coming out more defensively than intended. She rolled her eyes and shoved the boy causing him to stumble slightly, Topper laughing at them, “He went to meet one of the guys by the front doors- something like that.”

“M’kay… What about Rafe?”

Topper tilted his head, crossing his arms curiously. “Rafe?”

“Yeah. Just wondering if he’s here.”

She replied quickly, shrugging as she let out a quiet laugh, though it didn’t sound as carefree as she intended. Topper raised an eyebrow at her curiosity, aware that the two were still on thin ice,

“I haven’t seen him since earlier. You know how he gets, he’s... not in the best of moods."

Y/N swallowed, her thoughts briefly clouding with the image of Rafe brooding in some corner, she pushed it away, forcing an unbothered tone as she took another sip of her drink.

"I’m sure he’s fine."

Topper studied her for a moment, his smirk fading just slightly as he caught the way her expression shifted- the subtle drop in her shoulders, the brief tightness in her jaw. He could tell there was more to her question than she was letting on, and it wasn’t just curiosity about Rafe's whereabouts. But he didn’t press, he knew when to back off, he cleared his throat as he saw the girl's eyes dart around the back-yard,

"Whatever’s going on between you two," he said, a little more serious now, "you know it’s not worth letting it ruin a good night. The party’s for you, not him."

Y/N glanced at him, her lips quirking in an attempt at a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "I know," she muttered, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. She shifted uncomfortably, the heat of the moment making her uneasy as she realized she hadn’t been able to escape her thoughts of Rafe- even in the middle of her birthday celebration.

She had spent weeks convincing herself that she didn’t care if Rafe showed up, that it didn’t matter what he did anymore. But standing there in the midst of the party, surrounded by familiar faces and laughter, she couldn’t deny the sting of his absence. Her fingers tightened slightly around the glass in her hand as her gaze swept over the crowd for what felt like the hundredth time. He wasn’t here. Not yet, anyway, or maybe he was but he was avoiding her. She told herself it didn’t matter, tried to focus on the people who were here for her, but her mind kept circling back to him. He was her best friend. At least, he had been. That thought made her chest tighten.

Had been

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

The music pulsed through the air, its rhythmic bassline vibrating the floor beneath her feet. The lively chatter and bursts of laughter from the crowd mingled with the upbeat energy of the party. Every corner of the house was buzzing with movement- someone laughing loudly, a group raising their glasses in a spirited toast, or pairs of people drunkenly making out in dimly lit corners. The lively chaos was electric, wrapping around Y/N as she moved through the thrumming atmosphere. The girl found herself by the makeshift bar, a group of familiar and not-so-familiar faces gathering around her. Someone had shouted, "Shots for the birthday girl!" and it spiraled from there. A tray of tiny glasses filled to the brim with amber liquid appeared, each one gleaming under the dim lights overhead.

“Birthday shot!”

Someone yelled, and the crowd around her joined in, chanting the words in a playful, sing-song tone.

Y/N held her shot glass high, a smile tugging at her lips as she glanced around at the people circling her.

“To being young, rich and sexy!”

The group erupted into laughter and clinked their glasses against hers before raising them to their lips. Y/n tipped her head back, the liquid burning a fiery trail down her throat, she slammed the empty glass on the counter with a wince, her friends erupting into cheers. Another round was quickly poured, someone shouting, “One more for the birthday girl!” Y/N laughed, shaking her head, but there was no real fight in her as another shot glass was pressed into her hand.

“Alright, fine, but this is the last one,” she said, raising the glass high with a wide smile, cheeks flushed.

“Sure it is!” someone teased, drawing more laughter from the group. She tilted her head back once more and took the shot, slamming the glass down. The crowd around her whooped in approval, some pounding the counter, the group around her remained lively, their laughter and chatter filling the kitchen as they lingered by the counter, still talking to Y/N about random topics that arose. She nodded along, her smile unwavering as she responded to their playful jabs and stories, but her attention started to waver. Her gaze drifted subtly past the circle of friends, skimming over the crowd that filled the house, that's where she spotted him.

Rafe

He was not far from the kitchen entrance, leaning against the wall with that casual ease that drew her eye immediately. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his head was tilted slightly as he talked to someone.

Sofia?

Y/N’s stomach dipped slightly. The girl standing with Rafe was undeniably beautiful, her short brown hair framing her face in a way that caught her beauty effortlessly. The girl laughed at something Rafe said, her hand brushing his arm briefly, to which he returned a smile to her his chest raising in a soft laugh. The sight sent a jolt through Y/N that she couldn’t quite place- or maybe she could, but didn’t want to. Her smile faltered for a split second before she forced it back into place, the party around her seeming to blur for a moment as her focus zeroed in on the two of them. She couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol coursing through her veins or the way Sofia’s hand casually brushed Rafe’s arm, but a wave of nausea crept up her throat. Her grip on the edge of the counter tightened, fingers curling against the smooth surface as though grounding herself. The laughter and chatter around her blurred into a dull hum, the vibrant lights of the kitchen suddenly feeling too bright, too close. The warmth of the room made her feel like the air was pressing down on her. She blinked slowly, trying to steady herself, but her head was already spinning, the effects of the shots catching up with her faster than she expected. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to exhale, but her stomach still churned uncomfortably. The nausea wasn’t just from the alcohol, she knew that. It was the sight of him- of Rafe- leaning in close to someone else. Someone who wasn’t her.

Get a grip

The sudden suffocating feeling drove her to action. Her body moved before her mind could fully catch up, her feet carrying her out of the kitchen and through the crowd of partygoers. She mumbled quick apologies when she bumped into someone, eyes darting toward the glass doors that led to the garden. The cool night air hit her immediately, sharp and refreshing against her heated skin. She inhaled deeply, her hands pressing against the railing of the patio as she stared up at the stars, trying to will away the lump in her throat and the bitter taste of jealousy lingering in her mouth. Before she could fully settle into the moment of solitude, someone called her name.

She turned around, and there he was.

Rafe stood just a few feet away, his hands tucked into his pockets, his expression unreadable. The way the light from the house cast a glow over his face made him look almost softer—almost.

“Happy birthday.”

He said, his voice low but clear, carrying easily through the quiet of the night. She stared at him for a moment, her face betraying no emotion.

“Thanks,” she replied flatly, turning back toward the garden.

“Wait-”

He said, and before she could take another step, his hand reached out, gently brushing against hers before catching it lightly.

“Can we talk, please?”

She turned back to him slowly, her gaze icy as she stared up at him.

“Go talk to Sofia.”

What?

She shot back, her voice sharper than she intended. Rafe blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the venom in her words. He opened his mouth to respond, but closed it again, his jaw tightening slightly.

Why the fuck did you say that?!

“Listen,” he started, his voice softer now, more deliberate. “I don’t know what you—”

“Rafe,” she cut him off, her tone clipped as she tugged her hand out of his.

“I don’t care who you fuck.”

She inhaled deeply, her gaze briefly flickering to the door behind him before settling back on his face.

“I just need some air.”

And with that, she turned away, stepping off the patio and disappearing into the shadows of the garden. Rafe stayed rooted in place, his hand falling limply to his side where hers had been just seconds ago. He watched her retreating figure, her shoulders tense, her head held high.

Fuck

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He hadn’t meant for things to be like this—not tonight, not on her birthday. He didn’t even know how to fix it, or if she’d even let him try.

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

Y/N was pulled out of her spiraling thoughts by the warm, steady weight of a pair of hands wrapping gently around her waist. Her body stiffened for a moment, but then she turned her head slightly to see Cooper smiling down at her, his face warmed under the kitchen lights.

“How’s the birthday girl enjoying herself?”

He asked, his voice warm and teasing, a playful lilt in his tone. Y/N forced a small smile, her grip on the counter loosening slightly. “I’m… good,” she said, though the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her.

“Actually, I was just thinking- let’s take another shot.”

Cooper’s brows lifted, and he gave a soft chuckle, his hands sliding away as he stepped to her side.

“Another one, huh? You sure about that? Might be a good time to slow down...”

She shook her head, brushing off his concern. “Nope.” she said, her voice firmer now, as though willing herself to regain control of the moment. He hesitated, eyeing her with a mix of amusement and slight concern. “Alright, alright,” he said with a grin, grabbing two shot glasses and the nearest bottle.

“Your call.”

Y/N held out her glass, linking her arm through his with a playful glint in her eyes.

“Let’s take one together,”

She insisted, her smile a little brighter now. Cooper raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips as he grabbed another shot glass and the nearest bottle, pouring the shots for them, the liquid slightly spilling over the top.

“To the birthday girl who doesn’t know when to quit,”

Cooper teased back, his green eyes dancing over her as they clinked their glasses together awkwardly with their arms still entwined. Together, they tipped their heads back, the liquid burning down their throats as laughter bubbled up between them. Y/N set her glass down quickly, wiping her lips, but her eyes flickered to Cooper as he placed his own glass on the counter. Cooper ruffled his tousled hair back into place, as his gaze found hers, his voice softened as he noticed the girl's slightly blissed out expression asked,

“You good, Princess?”

Y/N nodded, the hint of a smile still curling at her lips, she bit her bottom lip gently, an almost unreadable look crossing her face for a split second. Without a word, she reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers together, pulling him toward the thrumming crowd where the music seemed to pulse. The bright lights above illuminated the sea of moving bodies, but Y/N was fixated on Cooper, her touch on his hand firm but playful. The music was loud, a steady beat that made her pulse quicken as she felt the warmth of the boy’s body close to hers. She could already feel the weight of the alcohol in her system, making her movements looser, her body swaying slightly. He allowed her to draw him in, his hands resting lightly on her waist as she guided him into the crowd of sweaty bodies moving against each other, his eyes never leaving hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck with an ease and he couldn’t help but tease,

“I thought you didn’t know how to dance,”

He murmured, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Y/N lifted an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smile. She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against his ear as she replied,

“I guess you’ll have to teach me, then.”

Cooper chuckled, shaking his head slightly as he adjusted his grip around her waist, pulling her even closer as they moved together. She grinded up against the boy as the base thumped heavily in her ears. Cooper leaned in closer to her, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he spoke, his hands trailing down her body to her hips, pulling her closer.

"You're a great dancer, princess."

Cooper paused for a moment, his expression softening slightly, his green eyes locking with hers in a way that made her pulse quicken even more. For a brief second, the music and the noise around them seemed to fade, leaving just the two of them standing in the dim light, the boy’s mind racing as he drank in the sight of her, little red dress clinging to her body a slight sheen covering her chest, causing her to shimmer under the lights.

Cooper was caught off guard by how close they were, how the girl's hands ran up and down his chest, lingered on his neck, playfully grazed over his arms, the heat between them had shifted from playful flirtation to something deeper, more charged. He noticed the way her breath hitched slightly as their bodies brushed, the way she leaned into him just that little bit more. His hand moved almost instinctively, sliding from her waist up to her back, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers, the slight curve of her spine making him pause again,

"God, you're so…"

Cooper started, his voice a little rougher than usual as he tried to collect himself, but the words came out lower, heavier than he had meant. He was fully aware of the shift, the tension hanging thick between them. He swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. Y/N didn’t break eye contact, instead, her fingers trailed lightly over his chest, sneaking under the top of his open shirt, causing him to suck in a breath as the coolness of her touch. She tilted her head slightly, that playful haze still present in her eyes.

"So…?"

She murmured, her voice dipping low, sending a shiver down his spine. Her lips hovered near his ear, her breath warm against his skin as she continued,

“You gonna take me back to my room now or what?"

She asked, her voice light, yet daring, her words hanging in the air the implication clear. She tilted her head, eyes never leaving his. The challenge in her voice had him leaning even closer to her, his grip on her tightening.

"Is that what you want, hmm?"

He asked, his breath warm against her skin, Y/N's eyes flickered over his face taking in his slightly flushed cheeks, a smirk pulling at her lips as she looked up at him, her fingers now lightly tracing his jaw.

"Maybe,"

She whispered back, but her body already told everything without needing to say a word. Cooper’s lips parted for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully,

"You’re not making this easy-"

“-I thought you liked a challenge?”

A grin broke out on his face as he shook his head slightly at the girl, his grip on her waist tightening ever so slightly, pulling her even closer.

“I do.”

Y/N's breath hitched in response, her fingers gripping at his shirt, the material scrunching under her touch as she pulled him closer to her, the boy’s lips now merely inches away from her.

"Then stop talking and show me,"

She teased, her voice breathless but full of desire, her lips just barely brushing against his as she leaned in. Cooper didn’t need any more encouragement. He moved forward, closing the gap between them, his hand at the back of her neck pulling her in for a kiss that was rough… hungry. Y/N’s arms wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The boy’s hands roamed, slipping down her back, and the shift of their bodies made her pulse spike again, her breath quickening in rhythm with his. Their lips moved against each other messily, the pressure building, it was clear neither of them wanted to stop.

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

The party felt suffocating now, the music too loud, the air too warm, but Rafe didn’t move from his spot against the wall. His bottle of beer hung limply from his hand, he leaned against the wall, one shoulder pressed into the cool surface, as his sharp eyes scanned the crowd. He wasn’t really looking for anyone- or so he told himself.

Then he saw her.

Y/N.

Rafe’s grip on the bottle trembled as he watched her arms loop around Cooper’s neck, pulling him closer. His jaw clenched as he watched her lean into him, her face close to Cooper’s, her lips curling into a smile that made Rafe’s chest tighten. His stomach churned as Cooper leaned closer, his hand brushing Y/N’s waist before pulling her in, and then they kis-

It stung at first.

Like a punch to the gut.

But that initial wave of hurt was quickly swallowed by something else, something darker. Anger. His teeth ground together as his gaze darkened, his chest heaving with shallow breaths. He knew it wasn’t his place to feel this way—he’d pulled back, made it clear weeks ago that whatever tension crackled between them wasn’t something he’d act on. But watching her with Cooper? Seeing the way her lips moved against his, her fingers tangling in his hair, the soft arch of her back as she pressed closer?

It made his blood boil.

Because no matter how much he tried to convince himself he didn’t care, that he had no right to feel this way, the sight of her with someone else cut deeper than he’d expected.

And anger was easier to hold onto than hurt.

What the fuck is she doing?

Rafe stormed into the kitchen, his mind still racing with the anger that consumed him. He had to do something—anything—to numb the burn in his chest, the frustration he couldn't shake. Sarah, Kiara and John B were standing near the counter, focused on making their drinks, their conversation faltering when they noticed Rafe's entrance. He didn’t even spare them a glance. His eyes were locked on the bottle of vodka sitting in front of Sarah, and before she could protest, he grabbed it out of her hand.

“Hey, man, she was using that.”

John B said, his voice sounding a little more forceful than he intended. He stepped forward, trying to stop Rafe from taking the bottle. But Rafe didn’t care. He twisted the cap off and tipped the bottle back, taking a large swing without hesitation. The burn of the alcohol made his throat tighten, but it didn’t feel like enough.

It wasn't strong enough.

“Rafe, seriously, stop,” Sarah said as she tried to grab the bottle from his hand. Kiara pulled the girl away before she got hurt speaking out to the boy,

“You’re acting like a psycho.”

Rafe didn’t respond, his jaw clenched as he took another long swing. John B watched, glancing between Sarah and Rafe. “Maybe we should get y/n?” He suggested quietly to Sarah, but before either of them could do anything else, Rafe let out a loud scoff at the boys words.

John B's gaze shifting toward Sarah with an unspoken questioning but Sarah wasn't looking back at him, having noticed something small in Rafe’s pocket. A dime bag, barely visible but enough to make her blood run cold, the plastic sticking out of his pocket slightly. Her gaze dropped, her heart pounding as she saw the faint remnants of white powder inside. Y/N had made it clear there were to be no drugs at the party, and Sarah had believed Rafe would respect that. She bit her lip trying to rationalise it, Rafe would never do that to Y/n she's his best friend right?

She was pulled out of her gaze by the sound of the boy slamming the now empty bottle down into the sink, the glass shattering with a loud crack that echoed through the kitchen. He didn’t look back at Sarah or John B, just kept walking, the anger inside of him driving every step. Sarah hesitated for a moment before taking a few steps after him, her fingers reaching out to grab his wrist.

“Are you okay?”

She asked, concern laced in her voice but Rafe didn’t respond. Without so much as a glance in her direction, he roughly shrugged her off as he spat out his voice slightly slurred from the alcohol,

“Just fuck off.”

Need something stronger

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

As the seconds ticked by, Cooper pulled back just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against hers, their chests rising and falling together, the girl in front of him letting out a shaky breath,

"You sure you want to keep going?"

Without a word, she took his hand in hers, her grip warm and firm as she started to lead him toward the stairs of the house. He mumbled out an occasional ‘sorry’ or ‘ s’cuse me’ as he helped her get through the people in their way. Y/n wobbled slightly, her body unsteady from the alcohol, but her determination never wavered. There was a faint scent of bacardi on her breath mixed with her perfume, it drew the boy closer, his hand slipping around her waist to steady her as they moved.

"Careful"

Cooper murmured, his voice gentle, but there was still that teasing lilt to it. Y/N shot him a glance over her shoulder, the playful, tipsy look in her eyes still there.

"I’m fine"

She giggled, though the slight stumble of her step told a different story. She squeezed his hand, pulling him forward with a grin that sent a pulse of heat through him. As they made their way up the stairs, her heart was racing, eager to get to her room with him, but her momentum was abruptly halted when someone bumped into her. She stumbled slightly but quickly caught herself, Cooper’s hands shooting out to steady her.

"Y/N! Hey!"

Sarah greeted, her tipsy smile spreading. She looked up at Y/N, noticing her slightly frazzled appearance- the smudge of lip gloss and the way Y/N’s hand was still intertwined with Cooper’s, an unreadable expression flickered across her face. She glanced down at their joined hands, taking in the situation with a knowing look before her eyes flicked up to meet Y/N's. Just behind her, John B appeared, his arms casually draped over her shoulders. His gaze shifted between the pair as he spoke up, his voice a little louder from the party’s noise.

"Hey, what's up, guys?"

His tone was friendly, though there was a slight hint of curiosity in his eyes as he noticed the scene. His focus landed briefly on their hands, eyebrows raising as he processed the sight, though he didn’t say anything outright. Y/N, trying to act casual, smiled and greeted them both.

Seriously?

"Hey, Sarah, John B! Everyone’s here... how great! Everything good?"

She asked, trying to keep her tone light as her eyes flickered nervously toward the stairs.

Sarah, clearly tipsy from the drinks, gave a small wave. "Yeah, Everything’s great! This party’s crazy, right?" she said, her voice bubbly. But then, her expression shifted slightly, and she asked, "Actually... have you seen Rafe? I’ve been looking for him, but... no luck."

Y/N felt her stomach tighten at the mention of Rafe.

Not the best time Sarah

She quickly glanced back at Cooper before replying shortly, "no I haven't seen him", trying not to sound too eager to move on from the conversation.

Her eyes flickered back to the stairs behind her, feeling an anxious pull to escape up them with Cooper. John B, still standing casually next to Sarah, glanced over at Y/N and Cooper, his eyes narrowing slightly as he seemed to catch on.

"Well we’ll let you guys be,” he said, a grin tugging at his lips. He seemed to sense what was happening, though he didn’t press it, instead giving a slight nod to Cooper.

“You two... having fun?”

"Yeah, we're just... catching up," Cooper said casually, a nod in the boy's direction, clearly wanting to move things along.

"Right," John B said, his grin widening, clearly amused, but not wanting to make things awkward. “Sarah, let's find Rafe, yeah?" Sarah didn’t seem quite as enthusiastic as she had before, she hesitated, her gaze lingering on Y/N and Cooper,

“Yeah..”

John B gently nudged Sarah away, guiding her down the hallway. As they walked off, Sarah threw one last, uncertain glance over her shoulder at Y/N and Cooper who had started making their way up the stairs.

Y/N let out a small breath, her shoulders dropping in relief, the noise of the party growing more distant behind them. Cooper leaned in slightly, his voice low and playful.

“What was that about?”

His eyes flickered between her face and the path ahead. Y/N let out a shrug, shaking her head slightly as she climbed the stairs.

“I don’t know, c’mon.”

She gestured toward the top of the stairs with a small smile, her fingers tightening around his hand as they both made their way. She wasn’t sure what Sarah’s issue was, but at this moment she couldn’t bring herself to care.

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

“What's wrong Sare-bear?”

JJ called out, his lazy smirk growing as he lounged on the grass. He tossed his red plastic cup into the bush next to them without a care, watching Sarah approach with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her expression stormy. John B walked a step behind her, his hands tucked into his pockets, his eyes darting curiously between her and the group. Sarah reached them and stopped abruptly, her words tumbling out.

“We saw Cooper and Y/N together.”

Kiara tilted her head, exchanging a quick glance with Pope, who was lounging on the sun lounger, his drink balanced precariously on his knee. “...And?” Kiara asked, lifting a brow. Pope squinted at Sarah,

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

His voice was calm but edged with curiosity as he straightened up a little, Sarah huffed, her fingers fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist as she frowned.

“I don’t know, it’s just... weird.”

JJ burst out laughing, his hands hitting against his thighs in a drum roll, “Ohhhh, I get what’s going on!” He pointed a finger at her, his grin wide. John B smiled, leaning against the side of the lounger the blond boy was planted on and crossing his arms.

“Gotta say, I think JJ’s onto something here.”

His voice was teasing, though there was a knowing glint in his eyes as he watched Sarah’s expression twist further into frustration.

“What? Why? What’s going on?”

Pope asked, his eyes darting between them, still not catching on. JJ sat up slightly, his grin spreading further as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Our Kook Princess is getting some tonight,”

He said, his voice coming out in a sing-song tune. Kiara rolled her eyes dramatically before leaning over and shoving JJ hard enough to send him rolling onto his back. “Hey!” JJ exclaimed, sprawling on the grass as he rubbed his shoulder with mock offence. John B chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

“I mean, he’s not wrong. They did look pretty—”

“Flushed?”

Kiara interjected, her lips curving into a small grin. Sarah’s frown deepened as she uncrossed her arms, her hands now planted firmly on her hips.

“How do you know?”

Kiara shrugged, brushing some stray strands of hair out of her face.

“Saw them in the kitchen earlier. They seemed pretty cozy... if you know what I mean.”

Pope’s eyebrows shot up as realisation dawned. “Ohhhh, damn.” He said, drawing out the sound as he leaned back on the sun-lounger. Sarah turned sharply to Kiara, her frustration bubbling over.

“Kie! Why didn’t you tell me?”

John B reached out, his hand settling gently on Sarah’s arm as he spoke softly. “Why are you so worked up over this, baby?”

Sarah paused, her gaze darting to the group. Kiara was watching her curiously, Pope looked contemplative, and JJ was sprawled on the ground, smirking up at her with an infuriatingly smug expression. She threw her hands up in exasperation. “This is wrong,” she muttered, shaking her head. “C’mon, I need to find Rafe.” She turned to walk off, but John B caught her hand, tugging her gently back toward the group.

“Sarah,” he said with a sigh, his tone soft but firm. Kiara leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she met the blonde girl's gaze.

“Sarah, I know you think the two of them like—”

“They do! Why aren’t you guys listening?”

Sarah interrupted, her voice louder now, laced with frustration. JJ, propping himself up on his elbows, pointed a lazy finger toward her.

“Well, obviously Rafe’s fucked up if Y/N’s canoodling with some other guy.”

He quipped, his grin never faltering. Kiara shot him a sharp look, shaking her head. “Seriously, JJ? What are you, ten?”

Sarah let out a frustrated groan, her head dropping against John B’s chest. Her voice was muffled as she sighed,

“I don’t know...”

Pope rubbed the back of his neck, his voice thoughtful. “Well, where is Rafe anyway? I haven’t seen him since... was it the kitchen you said? He seemed pretty worked up.”

Kiara frowned slightly, leaning back. “Yeah, I don’t remember seeing him either. Maybe he left?”John B looked over at her, raising an eyebrow, “You think he’d leave his best friend’s birthday early?” JJ, still lounging on the grass, chimed in with a snort,

“Well, if he found out she was fucking some other gu—”

“JJ!”

Pope and Kiara scolded in unison, their glares sharp as JJ held up his hands in mock innocence.

“Just saying,” the boy muttered, flopping back onto the ground with a dramatic sigh.

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

Y/N giggled as she stumbled slightly, her hand still clasped tightly in Cooper’s as they shuffled down the dimly lit hallway. His laugh was warm, mixing with hers as he pushed her gently against the wall, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was eager and unrestrained. Her hands slid up his chest before she playfully pushed him back, her breathless voice cutting through the darkness.

“C’mon, it’s further up,”

She murmured, her lips curving into a teasing smile. Cooper groaned, throwing his head back dramatically.

“More stairs?”

She laughed, shaking her head at him, tugging him along with a playful tug on his shirt.

“Just one more flight, I promise.”

They started to ascend again, but Cooper suddenly stopped, halting their progress.

“Can I go to the bathroom real quick?”

Y/N groaned in protest, her hands dropping to his belt loops, using them to tug him closer. Her mischievous grin widened as she pulled him flush against her.

“Seriously?”

“I know, I know!” he chuckled, his hands raised in surrender. “I’ll be quick, promise.”

Rolling her eyes, she relented with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Go, go!”

As he turned to walk down the darkened hall, he glanced back at her, sending her a quick kiss through the air. She chuckled, shaking her head at his antics. The hallway was quiet, the faint hum of music from downstairs muffled by the distance, and only the soft sound of their steps echoed. Then suddenly, a loud “oof!” broke the silence, followed by the sharp clatter of something hitting the floor. Y/N burst out laughing as she saw Cooper stumbling over a small table that was tucked into the corner of the hall. His hands shot out to steady himself, and he straightens up sheepishly, rubbing his shin.

“I’m okay!”

He declared with an exaggerated thumbs-up, his cheeks flushed as he grinned at her.

What a nerd

Y/N shook her head, a soft giggle escaping her lips, still smiling as she watched him disappear into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him. She sighed softly, the sound barely audible in the quiet hallway. Pushing herself off the wall, she padded over to the small wooden table Cooper had collided with, the picture frame lay askew on the floor, the glass miraculously intact despite the tumble. Bending down, she picked it up, brushing off an invisible speck of dust as she straightened, her fingers grazed the edge of the frame as she held it. The photograph inside caught her attention, halting her movements. It was one she hadn’t seen in a while- her and her brother sitting close together on their family yacht, the sun casting a warm golden glow over their smiling faces. She was younger, her hair tousled by the wind, her brother’s arm casually draped around her shoulders. Her lips curved into a small smile as the memory surfaced.

Y/N went to place the frame back down on the table, but a sudden ray of light caught her eye, reflected off the glass. She paused, her fingers tightening slightly around the frame. The light was faint, but it was there, casting a strange glow into the dim hallway.

That’s weird.

She blinked, upstairs was supposed to be off-limits, and no one else had been here. Why would there be any lights on? Her heart beat a little faster, a sense of unease creeping in, the faint light... where was it coming from?

Her breath caught in her throat.

The light was spilling from a door just slightly ajar, casting a soft glow in the hallway. She stood perfectly still, her grip on the photo frame tightening further as her mind raced. No one had been in that room for years- not her, not her parents. It had been off-limits to everyone.

No one had dared to open the door since...

Her heart seemed to stop for a beat, and she swallowed hard, staring at the crack in the door.

Why would the light be on?

Her finger trembled slightly as she placed the picture frame onto the table. She didn’t dare take her eyes off the door. She exhaled slowly, letting out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Then, almost against her will, she took a cautious step forward.

Another step.

Her body felt like it was moving on its own, but her mind screamed for her to turn back, to leave the hallway and not look. The nausea was rising, thick and heavy, but her feet seemed to carry her forward anyway. She hesitated, stopping a few steps away from it, her chest tight as she looked at the door. It felt like it was staring back at her. Her fingers felt cold as they hovered over the door handle, a mocking reminder of the past. With a trembling hand, she reached for it. The door creaked open slightly, the light from the room spilled out into the hallway.

The girl froze

Her gaze fell on the figure hunched over her brother’s desk, his back to her, he was focused on something, his movements quick and deliberate. The sight of him brought a sudden wave of nausea rushing to her stomach, but it wasn’t until he straightened up that she realized what he was doing.

Her breath hitched.

A line of white powder lay in front of him on her brother’s desk.

Y/N’s legs felt like they might give way beneath her, but she stood frozen, unable to look away as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand, then turned around. When their eyes met, the air in the room shifted.

Rafe’s body stiffened.

No. No no no no-

His eyes widened slightly, his hand jerking up to his face instinctively, wiping at his nose again; he didn’t speak right away, just stood there.

Y/N felt a tremor run through her, her hands shaking at her sides as her throat closed up. She felt trapped- frozen in the doorway, in shock, and sick to her stomach at the sight of him here.

In this room

In this space that was sacred to her.

“Y/n-”

"-What are you doing?"

Her voice came out ragged, barely a whisper as her eyes darted between his and the desk he stood by, the question hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Rafe's expression faltered, and he took a step toward her, his hands outstretched, frantic.

“It’s not what it looks like, Y/N. Listen, I—”

She couldn't breathe.

Before he could get any closer, she took a shaky step back, her legs unsteady as she stumbled back, barely catching herself.

“No-”

She breathed, shaking her head slowly, the tears threatening to spill over. She couldn’t stop them- couldn’t stop the waves of emotion that slammed into her all at once.

"No, Rafe… what the- what the fuck are you doing in here?”

He kept walking towards her, his expression torn- guilt, panic and confusion.

"Y/N, I didn’t mean to—"

But she didn’t want to hear it.

She didn’t want his words, his excuses, his explanations.

Her stomach churned as she looked at him, feeling like she might collapse under the weight of everything crashing around her. The room, the desk, the powder… her brother’s room. The memories came rushing back, too fast, too much to bear.

How Rafe of all people could be in here...

She didn’t know how to process it.

Rafe’s eyes widen as he takes a cautious step forward, his hands reaching out, gripping her arms tightly in a manner that seems desperate. His eyes are frantic, the pupils blown wide from the drugs still coursing through his system.

"Y/N, please- just… just, just hear me out-"

How could you do this to me?

He starts, his voice shaky, his words tumbling over one another, a mix of urgency and desperation. But her gaze doesn’t meet his. Instead, her eyes fall to the table, to the white powder still resting there. Her stomach churns violently, the sight of it sending a wave of nausea crashing through her. Without thinking, she pushes Rafe away from her.

Hard.

He stumbles back, his eyes are wide, still frantic, his lips parting to speak again, but he’s cut off by the girl’s shaky, breathless voice. She whispers, her eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and rage. Her whole body trembles. She can’t even look at him anymore.

"No. No, no, no-"

Y/N shook her head at Rafe, her movements sharp, as she turned on her heel, walking briskly toward the door. Her thoughts were a mess of confusion and disgust. She couldn’t stay in that room with him, not after what she’d seen, not after what he was doing there.

“Y/N, no. Don’t—”

The boy’s breathy voice broke through the tension, but she didn’t turn back.

She couldn’t.

Her pulse was pounding as she hurried down the stairs, ignoring the curious stares of the people in the living room. Heads turned, whispers rippling through the crowd, but she kept walking, the weight of it all pressing down on her chest. She pushed through people, moving as fast as she could toward the front door, she couldn’t stand being in the house a second longer and couldn't bear the thought of being around anyone after what she'd just witnessed. She slammed the door with force, the sound of it reverberating in her ears, drawing a few gasps from people standing around. Rafe’s voice continued to echo after her, calling her name, but it felt distant now. Y/N stepped out into the cool night air, her feet carrying her away from the house and toward the front yard. She lifted her hands to her face, desperately trying to push her hair from her eyes, but it didn’t help- she still felt sick. Sick to her stomach.

Sick because of Rafe.

Sick because of what she’d seen.

But before she could take another step, she felt a sharp tug on her wrist. She was yanked roughly around to face him, and her breath hitched as Rafe stood there, his eyes wide and angry. His grip on her wrist was tight,

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

Rafe’s voice was harsh as he pulled her toward him. His eyes burned with something she couldn’t quite place, frustration, anger... maybe guilt.

“Stop walking away from me when I’m talking to you!”

Y/N’s heart was pounding, her chest tight as she stood there, looking up at him. The boy she had known her whole life was standing in front of her, but it felt like he was a stranger. The sickening feeling she had from seeing him in that room was still too raw, festering, and she couldn’t escape it. Without warning, she yanked her hand out of his grasp, spinning on her heel to face him. Her eyes burned with fury as she pointed at him, speaking loudly, her voice shaking with anger.

“Don’t you dare yell at me.”

She snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. Rafe seemed taken aback by the force of her words, his eyes flickering with surprise she was breathing heavily, her hands balled into fists at her sides, but the anger wasn’t enough to hide the hurt, the betrayal that still churned in her gut. Rafe’s eyes flickered with frustration, and he scoffed at her, running a hand through his hair agitatedly, his fingers pointing towards her repeatedly.

“What, you- you- you think you’re some fucking saint? You’re acting all high and mighty like you’ve never done anything wrong.”

The girl let out a laugh of disbelief, all sadness now replaced with anger, bubbling uncomfortably under her skin. She stepped closer, her fingers twitching, itching to shove the boy away from her.

“You don’t get to make this about me-”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, but there was no softening in his expression, only a growing frustration that was reflected in the way his hand fisted by his side.

“-I don’t need you lecturing me, okay?”

He snapped, his temper flaring. His threw his hands up in irritation as he spoke,

“Look at you, little Miss fucking Perfect.” His voice was mocking now, his every word laced with bitterness. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy acting like such a stuck up bitch all the time you’d see that it’s never that dee-.”

The sharp sting of his insult cut through her, the girl’s face hardening as she glared at him.

“Stuck up bitch?”

She repeated, her voice cold and cutting, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

“You really think that’s what this is about, Rafe? That I’m some bitch for calling you out for your shit?”

As Y/N’s voice rose, sharp and cutting through the night, a few of the partygoers who had been milling around the house started to drift towards the sound. They stood, spread out in a loose cluster by the front steps, all of them silently observing. A few exchanged glances, their faces a mixture of curiosity and surprise, the kind of unease that only comes when you realize you’re watching something you shouldn’t be. They didn’t interrupt; they didn’t even move much. There was a sort of tense stillness as they all absorbed the unfamiliar sight- it was like they were seeing a side of the two that had never been shown before. Among the crowd, Sarah’s anxious energy couldn’t keep still. She pushed through the small group, a hand on John B’s arm as she urgently muttered,

“Someone needs to do something.”

John B glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow, clearly trying to figure out what to say, but before he could say anything, JJ chimed in from behind him, the lack of his usual attitude making the situation feel even more tense.

“I don’t think we should intervene...”

His gaze still focused on the two in the yard. John B stepped in, gently pulling Sarah back a little, he let out a deep breath before giving her a soft but firm look.

“I know I don’t say this often, but c’mon, listen to JJ. We don’t want to make this worse.”

Sarah clenched her fists, her nails biting into her palms as she anxiously watched Y/N and Rafe continue their heated exchange. Her teeth grazed her nail nervously, a flicker of concern crossing her features.

“Someone needs to get Topper or Kelce.”

As Sarah stood there, unable to tear her eyes away from the two in the yard as their brutal argument floated overhead, she wasn’t sure if just standing back was the right thing to do.

“What is wrong with you?”

The look in his eyes was the same: cold, distant, and filled with frustration. His jaw twitched, his muscles tense, as he rolled his eyes at her words. “Oh, here we fucking go,” Rafe muttered under his breath, his sarcasm dripping with annoyance. Y/N’s disgust only deepened.

Just shut up, just shut the fuck up-

“Seriously?” she said, her voice low but cutting. “Coke? You literally just—”

But before she could finish, Rafe interrupted her brutally, his words coming out in a sharp, unexpected burst.

“Your brother died three years ago,” he spat, his voice rising in agitation.

“Fucking get over it.”

…

Her blood ran cold, her chest tightening at the words, she opened her mouth, ready to retaliate, but her throat went dry. His words had thrown her off completely. She stood frozen, blinking, unsure of what to say in response to something so cruel, so unexpected. Rafe’s eyes never softened; his glare remained hard. Y/N let out a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, more like a scoff that escaped her lips in disbelief. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him, her head shaking slowly,

"You’re nothing but a fucking junkie"

She spat, the words slipped out of her mouth malisciously. At her words, Rafe’s expression flickered for a brief moment- but it was quickly masked by a cold look. His jaw clenched as he took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as he leered down at her, a dangerous intensity in his gaze.

"Oh yeah?"

He sneered, his voice dripping with a mockery that sent a chill down her spine. His fingers lifted, pointing erratically at his temple as he spoke.

"I think we both know what you are Y/N."

Y/N’s jaw clenched tighter as she refused to back down. She looked up at him, her eyes locked with his,

“What am I, Rafe?”

A dark, almost repulsed smirk curled on Rafe's lips, and he leaned in his eyes scanned her face with disgust before he spoke,

“You’re just a fucking slut”

He spat, his voice low and biting as he jabbed his finger aggressively into his own chest,

“Throwing yourself at me and when I tell you I don’t want you…” He paused, his finger now pointing towards her house, his expression a mix of anger and repulsion.

“You whore yourself out to Cooper.”

The boy stood there, his chest rising and falling. Y/N didn’t move, didn’t speak, her expression unreadable, her silence loud in the space between them, the ringing of her pulse loud in her ears. Rafe observed her for a moment longer, eyes flickering between her face and the people still quietly watching from the sidelines. Satisfied that she had nothing left to say, he let out a short, mocking scoff. His lips curled into something between a sneer and a smirk, his hands slipping into his pockets as he tilted his head toward her.

"Am I wrong?"

He asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, like he had won some twisted game. His eyes bore into hers, searching for any sign of weakness. Y/N didn’t respond immediately. She stared back at him, her features neutral, but deep down, she wanted to shout at him, to humiliate him the way he’d just humiliated her in front of everyone. But there was nothing left to say, her throat felt tight, like his words had stolen her ability to speak.

"You want to know what your real problem is, Y/N?"

He said, his voice colder now, cutting through the tension. She clenched her jaw, her fingers digging into the palms of her hands, but still, she didn’t speak, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her wavering voice.

"You're just like your mother- always looking for validation, always trying to get someone to notice you."

A lump formed in her throat as his words sank in making it hard to swallow. Her lip trembled slightly as his words sliced through her, harsh and unrelenting.

"Maybe if she paid more attention to you growing up, you wouldn’t be out here begging for anyone’s approval-"

The crack of a slap rang in the air, reverberating in the thick silence that followed.

Rafe’s head jerked to the side and he stood frozen, his cheek stinging from the force of the blow, his eyes wide with disbelief. Y/n’s hand dropped to her side slowly, her fingers curling slightly still feeling the burn of her own action. With a sharp intake of breath, his hand lifted to his face, touching the sting of the slap. He turned to the girl suddenly only to bump into someone.

"Hey, hey- hey!"

Kelce called out, voice urgent as he moved in between them, his hands outstretched to Rafe placing them on his shoulders, trying to calm him down from moving towards Y/N again. He had finally made his way down with Topper, the two having sobered up from witnessing the entire exchange from a distance as they pushed through the crowd to try and get to the two. Rafe’s angry footsteps faltered as he scowled, barely taking a moment to register who it was before growling in frustration. He clenched his jaw, his eyes flicking toward Y/N again, seething with barely contained rage. Behind her, Topper quickly moved in. His shoulders tensed, and he instinctively put himself between the two. His palm raised defensively, trying to hold Rafe off, though his own body language was tense.

"Come on, man—"

Topper spoke, his voice more steady, but with an edge of warning as he stepped forward, hand outstretched to Rafe, trying to prevent the situation from escalating further. But Y/N, barely containing her own anger, snapped,

"Get the fuck off my property"

She shouted furiously, her words cutting through the tense air. Her words sent a ripple through the crowd of onlookers, making the already awkward situation even more charged. Whispers of ‘he’s psychotic’ and ‘she’s doing too much’ drifting around the patio, but none of it helped ease the already unbearable tension. Y/N, glared at Rafe, not backing down. His eyes were filled with rage, but he couldn't quite seem to process her defiance,

"You're a fucking bitch, d'you hear me?"

He yelled back at her, his words laced with venom, his anger practically radiating from him. Y/N laughed bitterly at his insult. Her finger shot out to point directly at him, her stance tense with barely restrained fury.

"I hear you, you asshole"

She shot back, voice filled with disdain. Topper, now realising the situation was escalating, turned around quickly, his hand coming out to Y/N's arms. He muttered, voice strained as he tried to gently pull her away from the confrontation.

"Y/N, don't do this..."

Rafe's posture was rigid, his broad shoulders tense as if every muscle was wound tight with anger. He took a step forward Kelce cautious at his movement, his jaw clenched in frustration.

“What, you’re gonna threaten me now? You think you scare me, Y/N?”

She met his gaze with a cold, unflinching stare. “If you don’t get off my yard, I’m calling the fucking cops,”

She said, her voice low and sharp. Rafe’s eyes flickered with mockery, his lips curling into an arrogant smirk as he tilted his head.

“Yeah, you’re gonna call the cops on me? What’s next, Y/N? Gonna cry about it to mommy?”

He laughed bitterly, his chest heaving with the irritation he was trying to hide. Y/N’s eyes never wavered. Her stomach churned, but she didn’t let it show. The words came out of her mouth with disdain,

“You’re pathetic.”

Rafe laughed again, that cruel, bitter sound echoing in the tense silence. He ran a hand through his messy hair, clearly agitated.

“You’re not worth my fucking time”

He muttered, his voice dripping with contempt. Rafe didn’t even look back as he turned toward the road. He was breathing heavily, each stride heavy and deliberate, but the lingering tension in his posture remained. Kelce glanced at Topper, a quick, unspoken exchange between them. Kelce’s expression was hard, his eyes darting to Rafe before he turned to follow, his footsteps purposeful and quick. Y/N stood there, watching Rafe walk away, her breath shallow as she fought to keep herself from shaking. Her legs trembled beneath her, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest, suffocating. Her hand still burned from where she had slapped him, but it felt like an eternity ago. She kept her eyes locked on the road, watching until Rafe disappeared completely from sight. Topper’s hand settled gently on Y/N’s shoulder, the warmth of his touch a stark contrast to the cold, biting air.

“You okay?”

He asked softly, his voice carrying the weight of concern, but she didn’t respond. Y/N’s face was unreadable, feeling the eyes of the crowd still on her. The air around her was thick with judgment, whispers rising and falling like the waves crashing against the shore not far from her home. She refused to show the anger and hurt bubbling just beneath the surface. Her jaw tightened as she shook her head slightly, brushing off his hand.

"I'm fine."

She muttered, her voice low but sharp. She turned and began to walk back toward the house, her steps stiff and calculated. The crowd parted, sensing her need for space, as she made her way up the steps of her patio. Each one felt heavier than the last. As she reached the top, her eyes flickered briefly over the crowd, but she didn’t stop. The murmur of voices still surrounded her, but she kept moving, her gaze fixed on the open door ahead. The noise faded to a dull hum in her ears. Before she could fully enter, Sarah pushed through the group of onlookers, rushing forward with urgency.

“Y/N—” she called out, but the girl didn’t turn around.

She didn’t slow down.

Without a word, Y/N walked straight through the open door, her feet carrying her through without hesitation. Her voice rang out, clear and final as she stepped foot inside the house,

“Party’s over.”

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

taglist: @evermorx89 @bellaed1t @user381953 @lovemanheim @loves0phelia @yourcrackleflame @kundaquarius @matthewswifeyy @pillowprincess4him @lilithblackkk @sunny1616

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sgiandubh · 19 days ago

Text

In Jake Norton's words...

Among domestic clearer political skies (yes, thank God, it's improving greatly!), it is with much interest that I read Jake Norton's first blog entry about the Everest trek with S and team. You can find it here: https://jakenorton.com/reflections-on-hunku/

Here are the excerpts I found most telling, but I do encourage you to read it all. It is genuine, it is honest and it is real. This guy does not need to sugarcoat anything, indeed - not that mountaineers were this particular type, either.

'An adventurous soul with a heart of gold', who 'rose to it all, never flustered or bothered, always interested and engaged and inquisitive.' Remember (ROFLMAO), this is not Tash, the Twitter Sparkle Lounge madame, speaking from her fangirling mirador at a random OL con. This is what a man with a 30 years experience of high-altitude trekking has to say about his unlikely, but enthusiastic travel companion. And to make the unintended (but honest) Slap-an-Idiot operation even more resounding, he then proceeds to explain why this is not even remotely an indulgent judgement of the character. He could not be clearer about it:

'And, to be honest, my little coffeeshop meeting was both to suss out his interest and let him meet me (and judge me) in person, but also, more importantly, to feel him out. Guiding for me is not simply an economic thing, transactional, but about time and people and experience. I’ve done too many “off-the-shelf” trips in the past to have zero tolerance for sharing the mountains with people whose goals and values are misaligned with mine. It took but minutes with Sam to know our worlds, while vastly different, were built upon similar ideas and ideals and approaches.'

He guided S the only possible way one must travel through Asia: with an open mind and an even more open heart. They deliberately ran away from five-stars accommodation (this blogger always combines the humble and the glam, with a noted preference for the genuine 'humble') and graciously responded to the local people's enthusiasm - something that will always be the most beautiful surprise to any traveler who successfully unlearned how to behave like a tourist:

'Unfortunately for Sam, I don’t really believe in the sugar-coated version of Nepal; fancy hotels and windowed views of life are little more than television with smell. I want people to see the real Nepal, wander the back streets, immerse in the smoky incense of dawn on cobbled streets, bells chiming and dogs barking, ambling through the visceral reality that is Pashupatinath, taking in the respite of Bodhanath, embracing the comforting chaos of alleys and backways of Lalitpur.'

Reading this made me both feel nostalgic and itchy. For even if you might find me enjoying high tea, in the Bangkok Mandarin Oriental's Author Lounge, my heart will always, always fondly remember the magical nights in a humble Hmong thatched hut at Ban Somsavath, somewhere midway from Vientiane to Luang Prabang. But that is personal and I wouldn't dare mix it up with someone else's experience, so I won't insist. What I can tell you, though, is that I absolutely believe S is honest when he says he will be back: for it is not the traveler that chooses Asia - it is Asia that carefully, deliberately chooses the traveler.

These sounds are mine. They will always resound loudly in my soul, for too many reasons to list here in tearing haste. Why did I add them, though? Because once your plane crosses the Everest, the magic begins in earnest:

youtube

#Everest trip December 2024 #mountaineering #fandom #shitshow #travel #Youtube

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mssorceressupreme · 7 months ago

Note

hello love! Can I please get a minho x medjack!reader where minho gets really hurt out in the Maze and the reader fixes him up, but is yelling at him and fussing over him and he gets mad that she cares so much and is like "why do you care so much dammit?!" And she's like "Because I love you! That's why."

Thanks pokie!

Love your woek btw❤️

oooo yessss the classic heated argument where someone confesses trope 😩🤌🏼 thank you lovee, I’m excited to write this for you 🥰💓

——

Because I Love You

Pairing: Minho x Reader

Summary: Minho returns from his run severely injured, and you, the med-jack on duty tends to his wounds. Unlike treating any other glader, this glader was special to you, arousing a confession during his treatment.

Warnings: mentions of blood and injuries

——

It was late in the afternoon, the sun casting its scorching heat upon the gladers who were hard at work. The glade was a bustling affair and you were no different, treating injured gladers all morning.

You were waiting at the med-Jack hut, organising supplies and preparing for any injuries that might need tending.

Your heart always clenched a little tighter when you thought about Minho out there, facing the dangers of the maze. He was your best friend, you didn’t know what you would’ve done without him by your side. It was him who brought you out of your shell during your first week in the glade, and you truly appreciated him for that.

Just as you were about to take a break, the alarms sounded. The maze doors were closing, and you rushed outside to see Minho stumbling through, supported by Thomas and Newt. Blood dripped from a deep gash on his side, and his face was pale with pain and exhaustion.

“Get him to the hut, now!” You shouted with urgency, heart pounding heavily upon being greeted with that uneasy sight.

They laid Minho on the bed, and you immediately got to work, your hands steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside you.

You tore away the blood-soaked fabric of his shirt to get a better look at the wound. The cut was deep, dangerously close to his ribs.

Minho turned his head, glancing at you while you focused on his body. “Hey.” He smirked. “Will my scar after this look sexy at least?”

“Stop it, this is serious.” You scolded, eyes still focused on tending to his wound.

He let out a sigh of relief, “Just glad it’s you helping me.”

“Hm?” You were so engrossed in treating him that you didn’t catch what Minho said.

“I’m glad you were the one on duty today. Clint and Jeff would not be as gentle as you are.” He complimented, but for some strange reason, you felt your cheeks heat up from his comment.

“Oh, uh, thank you…I think?”

“What? You should be flattered!—Ow!!” He grunted in pain, clutching the sides of the bed.

“Sorry—” you bit your lip, losing slight focus because of the way he was acting. It did not help that he looked so damn handsome, lying on the bed shirtless.

“Stop complimenting me—it’s distracting!”

“Whatever you say greenie.” He teased, he was the first person to call you that and you hated it, but over time, it kind of grew on you. Almost became a special nickname from him, and it only sounded good when he called you greenie. Maybe the reason it only sounded good coming from him, was due to the fact that you might have developed feelings for him but you brushed it off.

“The cut is deeper than I thought…” you muttered to yourself, “Damn it, Minho. What the hell happened out there?”

“I got careless,” his eyes glazed with pain, as he sighed. “Never underestimate grievers.”

“Careless? You could have died!” You snapped, pressing a cloth against the wound to stop the bleeding. “Do you have any idea what that would have done to me? To all of us?!”

“I’m back though, aren’t I?!” He pinched his nose bridge, rubbing circular motions between his brows to relief tension from his head.

“You have to remember that you’re human Minho, not some super glader! You must know when it’s time to come back instead of lounging around with the grievers!” You lecture him, fixing up the last few bits of the bandage on his wound.

“Gosh, it’s like you enjoy running towards danger instead of away from it!” You fumed.

“There was an opening, I had to explore it a bit more!” Minho countered, defending himself.

“Explore it another time then!” You finally finished cleaning his wound up, and bandaging it. You motioned for him to sit up, helping him as he did so.

“It’s my job to find a way out Y/N, you have no idea the weight this job puts in my shoulders!” He was upright now, sitting on the bed with his legs on the ground.

You stood between his legs, cleaning up any dirt on his face from the maze with a wet cloth. “And we love and support you for it.…but you must know when enough is enough! You lost a lot of blood today! What happens if you don’t make it on time one day? How could I live on?!”

“Why do you care so much dammit?!” He shouted back, in frustration and pain, “Why do you always care so much?”

You froze for a moment, your hands trembling as you held the cloth against his forehead. Your eyes met his, and you saw the confusion and anger in his gaze, mirrored by your own turmoil.

“Because I love you, that’s why!” The words burst out of you before you could stop them, your voice shaking with the intensity of your emotions. “I love you Minho. And it scares the hell out of me to see you like this!”

Silence fell between you. Minho’s eyes widened, the anger draining from his face to be replaced by something else—something deeper and more vulnerable.

“You…you love me?” He whispered, voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

“Yes,” you said softly, “I love you, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you.”

He reached up, his hand trembling, and cupped your cheek. The touch was gentle despite his pain, and it felt comforting.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, regret lingering in his voice from his outburst, “I didn’t know.”

You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing as the tension eased off, “Just promise me you’ll be more careful. I can’t lose you, Minho. I can’t.”

“I promise,” he whispered, pulling you down to press a tender, loving kiss to your lips.

The kiss spoke emotions you’ve never told each other, the longing, mutual pining and secret attraction to each other. It was a kiss that spoke the fragility of life in the glade, of the need to hold on to each other in the face of constant danger.

As you pulled back, you saw the determination in his eyes, a promise to fight harder, to survive for you.

“Let’s get you up and back to your hammock to rest.” You returned to your task with renewed focus.

Minho watched as you helped him up, his eyes never leaving your face. His body ached with every movement, he let out some soft grunts but was determined to be resilient.

The pain was still there, but so was something else—a connection that had always been there, but now was stronger than ever.

You put his arm around your shoulder, helping him towards his hammock with slow steady steps as you didn’t want to injure him further.

When you finally reached his hammock, he sat up and you sat beside him, your fingers intertwined with his.

The area was quiet, as the other gladers were still working and busy.

“I love you too,” Minho said, his voice a soft promise. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

#imagine #maze runner #minho maze runner x reader #dylan o'brien #ki hong lee #minho tmr x reader #the maze runner #thomas brodie sangster #thomas tmr #tmr newt #maze runner fanfiction #maze runner imagine #minho tmr #maze runner x reader #x reader

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jake-g-lockley · 2 years ago

Note

Heyyy would you please do prompt 2 and (or) 9 with din? <3

Twisted Vows (Din Djarin x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Wanna be Tagged?

Prompt: head or shoulder massages, lover’s sick habit ie being too stubborn to let someone else help

A/N: Thanks for the ask lovely!!! DIN SICK FIC!! Please, this tin can is so stubborn, I bet he’s a real hard headed dummy when he is sick. But, ofc we love our Din <3

Warnings: Allusions to sex, Din taking off the helmet, the creed being a real bitch to real life things like sickness, vomiting.

Word count: 1.6 k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your eyes sparkled as you looked at the fruits before you, smiling at the shopkeeper. Your Din loved fruits but he never asked for them, he never asked for anything. Before he met you, he would often go days without eating, hopping around from planet to planet in a wild nomadic frenzy. Things only got worse when Grogu made his appearance, Din ate sparingly and gave most of his food to his baby. You loved cooking food, and you loved it when you had someone to feed.

When you appeared, you gave Din the chance to love food again, to slowly grow into the shell he hunched in after becoming a Mandalorian. He always had shown you his grumpy exterior but you clearly knew about his soft interior. You’d only see his soft side whenever he would take care of his son and more recently, when he would take care of you.

Once you were happy with your groceries you made your slow walk back to your hut, picking some flowers along the way for your flower vase. You opened the ramp to the Crest and were about to slip your shoes off and placed them beside Din’s chunky boots when a peculiar sight caught your eyes.

Your partner’s helmet somehow had grown a pair of green arms and was waddling towards your direction, a spoon in one green claw. You smiled down at your little green monster, wondering where Din might be if his helmet was walking around the house.

Your answer came almost immediately when you heard loud footsteps followed by a gruff “COVER YOUR EYES!”

You squeezed your eyes shut and heard Grogu giggling as he ran away from his dad.

“Hey Din! Catch!” you unfurled your scarf and threw it blindly.

“You can open your eyes now.” you opened one eye to see the big burly man in lounge clothes with your scarf around his face.

You set your groceries aside and scooped up the thieving babbling toddler, pulling Din’s helmet off to reveal Grogu’s cute face, a loud sigh coming from the man before you .

“Baby, what did we say about taking your Papa’s helmet?” you gently chastise, kissing his forehead gently as Din stomped towards you, stretching his arms out for his helmet. As Din got closer, you realised something was wrong. He was breathing weirdly, not his usual controlled breathing and his back was hunched slightly. He turned and gagged into his elbow, followed by a weak cough.

“Oh Din, are you okay?” you worriedly questioned, stretching your free arm out to feel his exposed neck but Din stepped back.

You narrowed your eyes at him and Din’s eyes widened under the scarf.

You whispered “do the thing” into Grogu’s ear and he immediately raised his hand, causing Din to lurch forward and collide with you.

“Not fair.” Din mumbled in defeat as you touched his neck.

“Din, you’re running a fever, that's it, back to bed or I’m hiding your helmet.” you say sternly.

“Fine, can I have my helmet back first?” he mumbled under the scarf and you nodded, shutting your eyes again as he removed the scarf from his face, dropping it onto his son’s face.

You opened your eyes as soon as you heard the hiss of his helmet and Grogu squealing under the scarf. You tutted angrily at the both of them as Din hung his head.

“Stop having beef with your own child, tin can.” you scolded the overgrown child in front of you, pulling the scarf off Grogu’s head. “Go to your room, I’ll come back with some stuff for you.”

You stared into his visor as you kissed the top of Grogu’s head again. The Mandalorian sauntered off, not before mumbling something under his breath. You smiled as you caught the last bit of his sentence.

“I’m the one who is sick but he gets all the kisses.”

You shook your head and bent down to place Grogu in his bassinet before taking your groceries to the tiny kitchen.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Din tried to lay back and forget how his body was hurting all over. He groaned as he clutched his tummy, quickly slipping his helmet on before running out of his room. You watch worriedly as Din dashes past you and makes a beeline to the refresher.

You hear him emptying the contents of his stomach and your heart ached at the small whimper that accompanied the retching when there was nothing left for him to throw up.

“Din, sweetheart?” you called as you stood outside the refresher. “You have your helmet on?”

A small grunt of confirmation makes you throw the door open and you drop to your knees beside the Mandalorian who was now curled against the metal wall. Behind all of his pain, Din’s heart swelled with your respect towards his creed. He wanted to tell you what plagued his head and heart but all he could do was gag.

“Oh Din, maybe I should just leave, I-i don’t know what to do, I can’t help you if you don’t have your helmet off.” you say, your eyes brimming with tears.

“I don’t know what to do either.” he whispered.

You laid down on the cold floor and curled up, facing Din, taking his hand in yours, an idea sparking in your mind.

“Shall I suggest something really stupid then?” you say as Din’s mind calmed slightly at your touch.

He grunted and you took a deep breath.

“Marry me.” you whisper and through the fog of pure sickness, Din Djarin stares at you as if you were the craziest woman in the galaxy.

“What?”

“You heard me. Marry me, then I can take care of you.” you say, placing a hand on his helmet, where his cheek would be.

“You’re crazy.”

“And you’re sick.”

“Fuck.” Din had so much to argue about marrying him.

He definitely was not a match for you, no matter how much his heart yearned for you, no matter how badly he wanted all of you to be his.

“Din, I swear on my name and the names of the Ancestors, that I should walk the way of our love and the words that my heart sings shall be forever forged between us.” you say clearly, twisting the words of the creed that Din had used before dipping himself in the Living Waters. “You better agree before you throw up in that helmet, Djarin.”

Din slowly sits up and takes your hands, placing it under his helmet and letting you push it off to reveal his face. You stared in shock, not realising that he would be this pretty, despite being sick as a dog.

“Heya, husband.” you whisper as you run a finger down his nose, watching as his eyes flutter close.

Din swallows and blinks, focusing on your face. Your fingers trace his lips, the ones you’ve had on you before in frantic times when you and Din’s desperations tipped over and the both of you lost control.

“Your husband is gonna throw up all over you if you don’t move.” he croaked out and you shifted as Din bent over the bowl and retched.

You rubbed the small of his back and whispered softly to him as he coaxed his stomach to relax. It took you a while to get the dizzy Din to get up from the refresher floor and lead him to his room. You pushed him down and handed him a pill that would calm his tummy, before slowly feeding him fruit that you had cut up for him.

Din could not express anything he was feeling, and he just accepted your unrequited love that you shoved at him. His eyes were downcasted after a while and you realised that he might not be used to someone seeing his face this long.

“Just yell for me if you need anything.” you said before standing to get up, but Din yanked you down despite being the weakest you’ve ever seen him.

“C-could you stay a while?” he whispered, his thumb gently tracing your wrist.

You smiled and pushed his curls away from his forehead, making his eyes flutter close.

“Of course.” you assured with a smile.

Din twitched awkwardly and you eyed him, trying to figure out what was wrong.

“Is something hurting?”

“Nah.” he croaked out after a long pause.

“You can’t lie to me, I’m your-”

“Wife, yea got it.” he huffed and scowled, making you giggle. “My head and neck are a little uncomfortable.”

You nod knowingly.

“Can you turn over?” you ask and Din hesitated before shaking his head.

You thought his stomach was still making him uncomfortable but in reality, Din just wanted to look at your face.

You sat on the bed and crossed your legs, laying his head onto your legs. He looked up at you with big eyes, and you skimmed your knuckles across his warm skin.

You begin with his temples slowly kneading them with your fingers until a soft sigh escapes his lips.

“A little h-higher?”

“Of course, love.”

Din loved it when you called him that. He was your love, your only love, maybe second to Grogu, but he was yours. That reminded him…

“When I get better, I’ll tell you the proper vows.” he whispered, and you blink down at him before realising what he was talking about.

“Oh-”

“Yea, we’re definitely breaking the creed here, but I don’t care. I-i’ve been meaning to tell you for a long time…” he said before taking a deep breath.

“Shh, I know.” you whispered, placing a finger on his lips.

Din couldn’t help but smile. Despite knowing that you knew, he wanted to hear himself say it.

“I love you, my riduur.” he says as his eyes became heavier by the way you were gently pushing all of his pain away.

“I love you too, Din Djarin.” you whispered as he drifted off to sleep, placing a lingering kiss onto his forehead and smiling down at him.

Reblogs are appreciated~~~~

Taglist: @fandxmslxt69 @joygirlmelii @wolfbook87 @randomnessfangirl @in-between-the-cafes @minigirl87 @alexxavicry @marygraceee @lia275 @euphoricosmo @violet-19999 @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @lil-stark @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm @bubblezuku

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blood-starved-beast · 3 months ago

Text

Love that you can get Nemesis a whole ass Throne (literally that's what it's called) for her to lounge on. And her response? It's like "here??" which is Hilarious lmao. Yes make that weenie hut loser feel self-conscious.

#Melnem #Melinoe #nemesis #hades 2 #hades II #hades II spoilers

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 1 year ago

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 1

AO3

Summary: As Frankie reaches the end of her second week at Thorpe Abbotts Airfield, she begins to find her footing among the men of the 100th Bomb Group

Warnings: Excessive alcohol consumption, language

Word Count: 4k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee

The setting sun cast a golden blanket over Thorpe Abbotts airfield, basking everything in an idyllic, orange glow that was almost beautiful enough to distract from the heady stench of motor oil that lay thick on the air, permeating hair and clothes so thoroughly that anyone who spent even five minutes in the place would carry it with them for the rest of the day.

Frankie Bevan clamped a flashlight tight between her teeth, the narrow beam of light illuminating the underside of the B-17's gun turret as she surveyed it for any cracks or gaps in the glass that could compromise its integrity. The rest of the ground crew had called it a day almost two hours ago, but the Yanks always did prefer to work in the daylight. She was nearing the end of her third year in the Women's Auxiliary Air Force, and after so many nights spent running the airstrips in the darkness for the RAF, Frankie was well accustomed to toiling away into the night.

Thorpe Abbotts was new, and yet much the same. It was only her second week here, compensating for the Americans' manpower shortages. The job was always the same, no matter where she went or what planes she worked on - checks, fixes, refuelling, over and over again - but thus was the nature of a mechanic's job. What she was not yet quite used to was the Americans themselves. Loud and brash and self-assured, Frankie was sometimes glad they worked different hours.

Taking note of a few cracks in the glass panelling, she reached up to swipe the torch from her mouth, offering a satisfied nod as she completed her checks for the night. All that was left was to pin her list of concerns up on the board inside the mechanics' Nissen hut, and then it was off to the pub for her.

Once she changed out of her oil-stained coveralls, that was.

"They're working you like a dog down there on the strip," Georgina, one of Frankie's bunkmates, pointed out, flipping nonchalantly through a magazine as she lounged on her bed.

"Someone's gotta do it," She shrugged, kicking off her coveralls as she rummaged in the shared wardrobe for the correct service uniform. "Some of the mechanics they've brought over are practically kids, not sure I'd trust 'em to fix my plane if I was going up there."

"You'd better show 'em what for, then," George smiled, glancing over as Frankie finished buttoning up her blouse, reaching for the navy blue jacket.

"You coming for drinks?"

"Uh, nah - I'll go tomorrow. Sandra thinks we'll be starting early tomorrow so I wanna get a decent night's sleep."

"Ooh, luxury," Frankie teased, shimmying her shoulders as she made her way to the door of the hut. "Alright, see you later."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The pub was crammed from door to door as she forced her way inside, the sound of chattering overpowering the music blaring from a radio in the corner. The American invasion of Thorpe Abbotts had well and truly been successful, scarcely a flash of RAF blue visible amongst the sea of khaki as Frankie burrowed her way through the crowds towards the bar.

"Pint of Guinness, please," She called over the din, the bartender offering a friendly nod of affirmation as she felt the crowd behind her push her body further into the edge of the bar.

"There y'are, love," The man nodded, placing the pint glass in front of her as she smiled her thanks, foam lining her top lip as she took her first sip. Frankie barely had time to wipe it away, turning to take a step back from the bar, before another body collided with hers. She gasped as the beer she had so looked forward to sloshed over the rim of the glass, pooling on the floor and staining the front of her uniform, as the other man's drink did the same.

"Woah, careful there!" The man cried, flicking a few stray droplets of spilt beer from his hand onto the floor. A deep frown creased her features as she peered up at him. The soldier was so tall that the tip of her head didn't quite pass his shoulder, and yet the irritation in her expression was so palpable that he took a full step back.

"Oh, that was my fault, was it?" Frankie tutted.

"Well, sweetheart, maybe if you'd been looking where you were going-"

"Maybe if you bloody Yanks gave us some room to breathe in here we wouldn't have a problem!"

There was an easy smile on the man's face that struck her as distinctly annoying. Discarding his now almost empty glass on the bar, the man put up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Look. We're not gonna agree on this, so what d'ya say we settle this with a little friendly competition?"

She raised a brow. "What sort of competition?"

"Uh... how 'bout a drinking contest?"

Frankie let out a guffaw so forceful that the man's confident smile disappeared, and a few nearby airmen turned to watch the scene unfold. "Y'know what? Yeah. You're on."

With a nod, he turned away, marching towards the closest table. "Alright boys, gimme some space, I got a contest to win against half-pint over here."

She approached the table, sitting down opposite the soldier, smirking at his arrogance. The airmen he had kicked out of their seats were lingering to watch the spectacle unfold, and it was clear their bets were on her opponent.

"Now," He sighed, taking a seat. "In the spirit of good sportsmanship, I oughta introduce myself. John Egan," He said, reaching a hand across the table.

"Frances Bevan. Frankie," She nodded, shaking his hand.

Egan nodded. "So, normal rules apply. No spilling, no vomiting, gotta drain the glass. Still wanna do this?"

Frankie nodded firmly. "I'd never pass up such a wonderful opportunity to humble you Yanks," She grinned.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Egan was turning red, his smug smile long since vanished, the motion of his arm slowing as he reached for the next shot glass, glancing across at her with a slightly nauseated expression. The crowd surrounding them had long since grown since they had begun, although how long ago that was she couldn't quite remember. The huge pile of empty shot glasses in the centre of the table did nothing to jog her memory.

"Oh, come on, Egan, you've gotta do better than that," Frankie teased, reaching forward and downing her next shot. In fairness, she too was beginning to feel light-headed, but it never showed on her face, her demeanour as cool and collected as it had been when she first sat down.

"I thought... I thought this would be easy," John complained, grimacing as he brought the next glass to his lips. "You're so small, where are you storing all this liquor?"

"I'm British - pretty sure it's in our bloodstream," She teased. Egan's eyes narrowed as he weakly upturned the contents of his glass into his mouth, screwing up his face as the liquid ran down his throat.

"I really like her," John admitted, letting out a long sigh as he drew a hand over his eyes. A few of the airmen laughed, clapping him over the shoulders.

"I think we're done here," Frankie chuckled.

"You forfeit?" He asked hopefully.

"No, I'm saying you're about to. That or you're gonna throw up - either way, I win."

"Nuh-uh," Egan shook his head. "Not gonna happen," He fought to suppress a burp, and the room seemed to brace itself for the inevitable vomit that would follow, letting out a collective sigh of relief when he swallowed his nausea back down. "...Yeah. Ok."

She clapped, throwing up her hands in victory as a couple of the men standing behind her cheered. "Well, it's been a real pleasure doing business with you Major," Frankie chuckled, fighting through the splitting headache that was growing in her temples as she rose from her seat, offering him a hand to help him stand.

John batted her away, but stumbled as he got up, one of his friends pressing a firm hand on his back to keep him upright. She smiled. "I'll help you get him back since it's my fault. Gotta get back to the huts anyway."

The airman accepted, each of them slinging one of Egan's arms around their shoulders as he tilted haphazardly over to one side, struggling to prop himself up against her due to her height. Trailing towards the door, a few of the men let out celebratory whoops at her as she passed, praising her victory.

"Thanks for the night, gents - I'm here all war," Frankie called over her shoulders, a cheer erupting from the crowd as they dragged Egan sideways out of the door.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was growing difficult to see as they marched John back to the huts, the street lights growing more and more sparse the closer they got to the airfield. "You gotta teach me how to do that," He slurred, tilting his head down towards her, the smell of liquor thick on his breath.

"You gotta get more practice in - you Americans with your 'no alcohol until you're 21' rule never stood a chance, we've just been in the game longer."

"Ah," He nodded, pausing for a moment. "Hey, why'd you call yourself Frankie?"

"Because Frances is a terrible name," She scoffed.

"Can I call you Fran?"

"Only if you want to die."

"Fair enough."

As they reached the end of the row of men's huts, she shrugged his arm off of her shoulders, relinquishing custody of John to the other airman, who thanked her for her help.

"See ya 'round, Shortcake!" Egan called as they trailed away, grinning proudly to himself at the nickname. Frankie scoffed, rolling her eyes and massaging her temples as her headache steadily worsened.

"You look like shit," George whispered as she wandered back into their hut. She had rolled her hair up into pin curls, protected beneath a headscarf, and was reading a copy of Wuthering Heights in the dim light of her bedside lamp.

"Got into a drinking contest with one of the Americans," She shrugged, tossing her beer-stained blouse and jacket into a crumpled heap at the foot of her bed, a reminder to wash them tomorrow.

"Did you win?"

"Of course."

"Shh!" One of the other women hissed from the opposite end of the room, shrouded in the darkness. Frankie pulled a face at her scolding, dragging a brush through the knots in her dark brown hair as George stifled a laugh, discarding her book and turning off the light once her friend had changed and gotten into bed.

It was silent for a while as she lay beneath the blankets, staring up at what would have been the ceiling if not for the complete absence of light. Her alcohol-induced headache thrummed behind her eyes, a constant, dull pain keeping her from sleep.

"George?" She whispered.

"What?"

"Do you have an aspirin?"

The sound of quiet rummaging was audible in the stillness of the hut, and she struggled to suppress a laugh as she felt the tube smack her in the face, a result of Georgina tossing it blindly in the darkness.

"Thank you," She giggled, trying not to gag as she took the pills dry, lying back and waiting for the pain to subside as she thought back on the night's events.

I'm not that short.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The blinding morning sun was unwelcome the next day as Frankie made her way to the airfield from her hut, bike resting against her hip as she made a momentary stop to fix her hair for the day ahead, hair tie held between her teeth as she scooped it into a ponytail. Most of the women she shared the Nissen hut with had left over an hour ago, hurrying to the flight tower in anticipation of the arrival of yet more American pilots, but her job didn't begin until after the planes landed, so fortunately for her, she had been afforded a little more sleep, her headache now more or less dissipated.

A loud honking startled her, the hair tie slipping from her teeth and falling to the floor. As she bent to pick it up, a jeep rolled to a stop in front of her, the horn parping once more.

"Fuck's sake, what?" Frankie muttered, glancing up to see the cheery grin of Major John Egan smiling down at her.

"Mornin'."

"Are you even fit to drive after last night?"

"Fifty-fifty. Hop in, throw your bike in the back."

She frowned as she noticed the pile of bikes already forming in the back of the car, but stacked her on top all the same, sliding into the passenger seat beside him. "Starting a collection?"

"Won them in a bet, night before last. Got one for me and my buddy Buck, he's arriving today."

"Is that Major Cleven?" She asked.

"Sure is," John nodded as the engine roared to life, taking them sailing along the road towards the airstrip, the wind ruining her hair before she even had a chance to finish it.

"So..." He began, swerving slightly to dodge a few maintenance workers on bikes. "Where ya from, Frankie?"

"Stratford."

"I... do not know where that is."

"I didn't expect you to," She chuckled. "Grew up with my dad working his garage, that's what got me into it. Always preferred planes to cars, though."

"You and me both," John nodded, slowing as they neared the landing strip. Up ahead, the flight crew were beginning to disembark, and Frankie's eyes narrowed as she noticed one of the airmen carrying a large dog.

"If they let that dog shit in the plane, I'm not cleaning it up," She stated. "You've heard me say it, that's on the record now."

"Yes ma'am," Egan affirmed, pulling to a stop, a grin spreading across his face as he got close enough to recognise his friends.

As he clambered out of the car, stepping forward to greet his comrades, she climbed out of her seat, wandering around the back of the jeep to disentangle her bike from the pile, tugging it free as the sounds of wind and aeroplane engines overpowered the men's voices.

"Oh, and, uh - This is Frankie Bevan," John called, guiding Cleven towards her, speaking louder so that she could hear. She raised her hand in a somewhat awkward wave, almost dropping her bike on her foot as she hauled it off the back of the jeep. "Best damn mechanic we've got, she's holdin' us together, that's for sure."

"Ma'am," Cleven greeted her with a tilt of his cap.

"He's never seen me work," Frankie shook her head, stepping forward to shake Cleven's hand. "We only met yesterday, he's just being nice in the hopes I won't tell you about how I drank him under the table last night."

John scoffed. "That is not what-" She raised a brow and he stuttered. "Yeah, that - that did happen."

Cleven laughed, squeezing Egan's shoulder. "Well, I'm sure glad he's had someone to keep him humble before I got here. Thank you for your work, ma'am, I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of each other soon."

She nodded, grinning at Egan's embarrassment. "How was your flight?"

"Smooth sailin', not sure there'll be anything to fix up this time."

A soldier she had heard John greet as Demarco spoke up from where he was stood, scratching his dog's stomach. "The dog dropped a deuce in the cockpit."

Clicking her fingers, she pointed to Egan. "She's not doing that!" He called, craning his head over his shoulder as Demarco put his hands up in surrender.

"Well, that works wonders," Frankie chuckled, lifting her leg to straddle the seat of her bike. "Now, if all you gents have planned is standing around, I've got work to do."

"Bye Shortcake," John grinned as she pedalled the bicycle into motion, ringing the bell and offering up a middle finger as she left. He chuckled, feeling Cleven clap him over the shoulder again.

"She's interesting... nice," His friend began. "Bucky, I know you're sick of Marge tryna set you up, but she is definitely-"

"She's definitely my friend, Buck. Besides, I could never date a woman with a higher alcohol tolerance than me. That's just embarrassing."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The wind whipped her hair this way and that as Frankie hammered at the pedals, gaining speed faster and faster with each second until the rolling fields beyond the airstrip were little more than a green blur. She'd always loved to cycle, preferably as fast as she possibly could. Her father used to say she should try racing, but his ambition curtailed rather when she got in trouble for almost taking out a couple of tourists outside Shakespeare's birthplace on her way home from school. Besides, she'd never quite had the discipline for sports.

Her breaks squeaked noisily as she rolled to a stop outside the mechanics' Nissen hut, stationed just beyond the main runway. They had been given a single hut for all of their operations, much to the chagrin of many. The back end was an orderly pile of spare parts - buckets of rivets, piles of sheet metal - but someone had supplied them with a table and chairs, and the recent addition of a gas stove and kettle had proved a huge hit.

Ken Lemmons was sat at the table as she wandered in, glancing at the corkboard by the door where she and the others posted notice of anything in need of urgent repair.

"A couple of the guys replaced the glass in the gun turrets earlier - thanks for the shout," Lemmons spoke up.

"Ah, good," Frankie nodded, taking a seat opposite him. As much as she bemoaned her younger, American co-workers, she had grown fond of Ken. He was sipping a cup of coffee, and by the look on his face, he was not enjoying it. She tossed the paper bag containing her lunch onto the table, retrieving a cucumber sandwich - meagre subsistence, and a sight that made the boy frown.

"I think I'd actually murder someone for some Hershey's right about now," He remarked, grimacing as he took another sip of coffee.

"Hey, we make do with what we've got," She shrugged, attempting to devour the sandwich before the cucumber could soak through the thin slices of bread. "I know one of the girls in the Land Army - I darn her jumpers in exchange for a bit of her extra cheese ration."

Lemmons chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "I miss good chocolate. I can't get used to... Cad-berry's?"

"Oh, that's sacrilege," She laughed, tossing a slice of cucumber at him, which stuck to the breast pocket of his coveralls. "If you'd come a couple years ago when they were still making Dairy Milk you'd've thought you'd died and gone to heaven."

"I'll believe it when I see it," He grinned, plucking the slice off of his clothes. There was a pause before he spoke again. "One of the fellas says they're actually taking off later."

Frankie nodded, lifting a hand to cover her mouth as she spoke around her food. "Oh yeah? This gonna be your first proper go at it?"

"Yeah..." Lemmons admitted, looking momentarily nervous. "You?"

She snorted back a laugh. "Nah. I've been in the WAAF nearly four years - moved around a bit, but whether it's Attlebridge or Docking or Thorpe Abbotts, it's all the same gig. You stick with me when the planes start coming back down and you'll be fine."

The corner of his mouth tilted upwards in a smile. "You're gonna babysit me?"

Frankie grinned, standing up to reach across the table and ruffle his curls. "With a cute little face like yours, who could help it?" She teased, laughing as he batted her away.

"Get off, I'm serious," Lemmons chuckled, but the smile never faded from his expression.

Ken's buddy hadn't been wrong, per se, but his fabled mission had come not hours, but days later, with a hammering knock on the door to her hut, the women stirring from their sleep in a wave of disgruntled moans.

"What time is it?" Frankie whined as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, resisting the urge to burrow her head beneath the pillow and block out the relentless knocking outside.

"Four thirty," George groaned, frowning vindictively at her watch as she put it on, as if time itself had caused her personal grievance.

"They're flying today, get ready!" A young male voice bellowed from the other side of the door, clearly too shy to bare his face to a room of half-dressed, irritated women.

"Fuck me, I'm coming," She muttered, brushing her hair with one hand as she buttoned up the front of her coveralls with the other.

"Spot me! How's my lipstick?" George called, and Frankie leant across the bed that separated them to wipe a stray smudge of red away with her thumb.

"All good."

"Right," Her bunkmate huffed. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

"See you later," Frankie affirmed.

"I'll join you for drinks this time if all goes well!" George called over her shoulder as she scurried towards the door.

"I'll hold you to that!" She replied, smiling as she laced up her boots.

The planes left and returned in mere hours, but the in-between had felt never-ending as the ground crew waited in tense anticipation to see how many would return and in what state. Frankie had sent Egan away to the flight tower after his nervous hovering had started to get on her nerves, and she had since spent the last half-hour sitting in the grass beside the runway making daisy chains with a few of the local children as a way to pass the time.

"Frankie! They're comin' in!" She heard Lemmons yell from across the airstrip. Hurriedly sending the children back to their parents as the sound of plane engines grew steadily louder overhead, she scrambled to her feet, grass stains streaking the knees of her coveralls as she jogged over, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as the planes began to descend towards them.

"...10, 11, 12..." Frankie muttered, coming to the slow realisation that many of the men they'd sent away that morning had not returned. But that loss did not negate the importance of the work they had to do now. "Ok, let's go," She patted Lemmons on the shoulder, and they reached for the bikes they had discarded on the ground nearby, pedalling hard towards the landing strip.

From the second they arrived, she was surveying the damage, scanning the planes for the areas that would need the most attention. It was impossible to pick just one.

"There's a reason we go at night," She muttered, so softly no one else could hear over the din of shouts and dying engines. The mechanics weren't emergency staff, but she'd seen a fair few planes come in either on fire, half-collapsed or both over the years, enough to learn it was best to get in as soon as possible.

"Shit," Lemmons huffed beside her, staring up at a huge, jagged hole in the metal of one of the plane's wings.

"Send a couple of the boys back to the hut - tell them to bring a car back with all the sheet metal they can put in it. Oh - and get me a welder!" She called to him, and the young man began barking orders at the other mechanics, the crew erupting to life around the plane as they began to fix the mess that had returned.

"Frankie!" Egan's voice rang from down below as she climbed up onto the top of the plane, marking out the areas of the body that needed replacing. She looked down at him as he yelled again. "You need anything?"

"Nope, we're good here!" Frankie replied, holding up a thumbs-up in case the wind drowned out her voice. Looking down at the work to do below her, it was as if she could map out every fix in her mind, envision every action in order, play it out in her head until the beast was as good as new. She smiled to herself. "This is what I do."

#masters of the air #masters of the air fic #masters of the air oc #mota oc #hbo war #john egan #gale cleven #ken lemmons #rosie rosenthal x oc #oc: frankie #mota #fic | i'm your man #oc: george

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ak-vintage · 6 months ago

Text

Miller Tours | Secret Springs Resort

Prompt: Joel Miller & Speedboat Rides

Created for the Secret Springs event hosted by @secretelephanttattoo

Dividers by the incomparable @saradika-graphics

The first words he says to you are a blunder, and though unintentional, you would be lying if you said they didn’t sting a little.

“Howdy. Welcome in.” His voice is low and warm, friendly but somehow calmer, more subdued than you had come to expect from the little beach town’s many small business proprietors. “You must be my 2:00. Boat tour for two?”

He glances up at you from his post behind a weathered, white-washed counter, the little hut at the edge of the marina looking like something out of time. There’s a wooden sign with peeling paint hanging over the door, “MILLER TOURS” printed across its surface in navy blue lettering, and rather than a credit card reader or a sleek tablet on a swiveled mount, he has an old bronze cash register at one end of the counter. Spread out before him are two binders describing the features of different tour packages, and there’s a corkboard on the far wall featuring a collage of sun-bleached photographs of past adventures, all of which are held in place with shining silver pushpins.

Boat tour for two? It makes sense. That is what your reservation was for. Still, something in your chest seizes at the question, and you offer him a pained smile.

“Uh. Just one, actually,” you say, hoping that will be the end of the discussion. Of course, that is wishful thinking.

Quirking a frown at you, the man behind the counter pulls a clipboard from a drawer and scans it quickly. He says your name like a question, and you nod, lips pressed together in a tight line.

“Okay. So Bryan won’t be joining us today?” he asks. You think you see something like understanding in the tightness around his eyes, the way his prominent brows pick up just a bit in the middle, wrinkling his golden, sun-warmed skin.

“Nope. Just me.” You tug at your coverup, a delicate, crocheted thing you’d bought specifically for this trip because of the little peeks of skin it afforded, letting you show off your new bikini while still having the illusion of some coverage. The person you had bought it for, however, is hundreds of miles away now, admiring someone else’s skin, someone else’s body.

And you are here. Alone.

“I…I hope that’s all right. I’ll still pay the two-person fee, it’s not a problem,” you say after a beat of tense, significant silence.

However, instead of the reluctant acquiescence you’re expecting, the man grants you a soft smile, and he shakes his head, his dark, salt and pepper curls bouncing as he does. “That won’t be necessary, darlin’. Why don’t you let me get locked up here, and we can get you out on the water?”

A wave of relief passes over you at that, and you nod readily. “That sounds good…” You hesitate, unsure of how to address him, but he rescues you quickly from any further social awkwardness.

“Captain Miller,” he says as he rounds the counter. He extends a large, calloused hand in your direction, and you shake it happily. His fingers dwarf yours, but rather than feeling intimidated, instead it just makes you feel safe. Cared for. “But you can just call me Joel.”

You spend the afternoon lounging at the back of Joel’s speedboat, a tidy, well-kept thing that cuts through the water like a knife, showering you with mists of saltwater as he makes a circuit up and down the coast of Secret Springs. He lets you run the boat’s radio, lets you choose the speed, lets you tell him when you would like to stop and take pictures and when you would like to keep going. You quickly take off your coverup to bask in the afternoon sun, soaking in its rays and luxuriating in the ocean breeze, and he almost manages to keep his eyes focused on the ocean. You almost manage to stop yourself from blushing under his gaze.

About an hour in, Joel reaches down into the storage compartment underneath the helm and pulls out a cooler with a chilled bottle of crisp white wine and two glasses. He pours you a generous glass, mumbling something about not knowing much about wine but knowing that this one is usually a crowd-pleaser. You, of course, offer him the other glass, and though he protests that he really shouldn’t, that it’s bad manners to drink on the job, he eventually accepts. You pour him his own splash of wine, and when he asks you what you would like to toast to, you tell him, “New beginnings.”

As the sun begins to lower in the sky, Joel takes you to a secluded cove on the southern end of town. There’s an area there that has been roped off for swimming, and he drops anchor and tells you you’re welcome to take a dip if you’d like before he takes you back to the marina. You slip into the cool water with no further prompting, eager to refresh yourself after a day in the summer sun, and this time, he makes no attempt to hide the way that he watches you as you float leisurely in the shallows.

By the time he is pulling the speedboat back up to the marina, hopping out onto the dock to haul it the rest of the way in with a length of rope twisted around his thick, tanned forearm, you realize you haven’t thought about Bryan once all afternoon.

When you head back into the Miller Tours building to settle up on your bill, you ask Joel for a piece of scrap paper, and he hands you the final, useless length of receipt paper from an old roll he had stashed away behind the counter. You hand him back your payment for the excursion, a generous tip, and your phone number and the name of the hotel you’re staying at scrawled across that length of receipt paper.

“You sure about this, darlin’?” he asks you as you head for the door.

You glance back over your shoulder at him and smile, feeling lighter, happier, freer than you have in months.

“Definitely,” you say, and then you watch as Captain Miller slips the piece of paper into the front pocket of his shirt.

Tapping his hand over that pocket, as though to promise you he will keep it safe, he replies, “Get home safe, sweetheart. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. See if we can’t get that ‘new beginning’ you’re after started off right.”

#secretsprings #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #drabble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fanfiction

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year ago

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How would the M6 react to MC literally becoming a contortionist before bed? Like twisting their body in ways that should be impossible by the laws of the universe just for a good stretch. I do it every night and I think It’d be funny if all the M6 could hear was joints cracking.

As always, have a good day Brainrot!!! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

The Arcana Mini-HCs: M6 when MC contorts their body to stretch

@vegaspng I've actually done the joint cracking version of this, so I'll go with the contortionist aspect for now ^.^

When MC cracks their joints

Julian: he's dedicated his life to studying the human body, and it's all that medical knowledge that freaks him out specifically because he doesn't understand how what you're doing is physically possible

Asra: they're pretty flexible themself, and is likely to casually lounge nearby and give tips. (and help you get into any specific stretches you're going for, if only because he gets to touch you more this way)

Nadia: she's more competitive than she lets on. after years of her morning meditative stretches, she's finally met her match. will push herself to accomplish every stretch you do and kiss you after

Muriel: hey, everyone has pre-bedtime routines. some people like warm milk. some people like to read. he likes to patrol and secure the hut. you like to turn into a pretzel. he doesn't judge, you're all human

Portia: morbidly fascinated. as in, she doesn't find that level of contortion pleasing, but she just. can't. look. away. will eventually ask you how you got to where you are and what else you can do

Lucio: he tried stretching along with you once and strained his back, which left him bedridden and whiny for days. you try to do this where he can't see you anymore, so he doesn't hurt himself again trying

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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arcadian-litterateur · 2 months ago

Text

peiskos | gally x fem!reader

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

summary: you have raynaud's disease, an autoimmune disease that causes your body to overreact to the cold and results in painful attacks when out in chill temperatures. thankfully, your boyfriend has always been invested in keeping you warm and comfortable.

wc: 2.5k

warnings: use of y/n, vague discussions of death, reader has an autoimmune disease (raynaud's)

a/n: had this almost finished in my drafts for ages.

peiskos - “the cozy feeling you get sitting in front of a fireplace.”

THE SOUND of the crackling bonfire filled my ears as I rubbed my chilled hands together, attempting to create warmth from the friction. It didn’t matter that I was sitting as close to the fire as I dared, the smoke stinging my sensitive eyes, my hands and fingers still felt like they were frozen solid, empty of blood, my arteries stubbornly refusing to open up again. I could practically hear them whining, ‘It’s too cold! We’re going to freeze to death! It doesn’t matter that you’re two inches away from burning your fingerprints off!”

“Y/N!” Newt's distinctive British accent carried over the yells of the other Gladers as he jogged over to me, a wide grin adorning his youthful face. As he got closer, said grin faded to a worried frown. I found out why when he grabbed my hands and yanked them away from the warmth of the flames. “Are you trying to get injured?” he yelped. I scoffed.

“No. I'm having a Raynaud's attack,” I shot back, Newt's expression softening. His hands, which were still holding mine captive, immediately began to run soothing circles over my icy skin. It was a sweet gesture, but—

“You know that's not going to help, Newt.” He sighed frustratedly, bringing our clasped hands to his chest. I gave him a sad smile, “And neither will that.”

“I know,” Newt groaned. “I just—these are the times I wish I was one of those guys who ran hot all the time. So I could help you. Instead, I just have to watch you in pain, and I can't take the pain away or even make it better.”

“Newt, it's not your job to take care of me,” I chuckled.

“But I want to,” he whined, wrapping me in a tight hug, bony arms squeezing my shoulder blades together with a surprising amount of force.

“Ow,” I grumbled until Newt let go with a laugh, plopping down next to me. “You know,” I told him, “you do help me. When you talk to me and distract me, I forget about the pain.”

“Whatever,” Newt pouted. “I want to help in a more efficient way.” I rolled my eyes at his dramatics, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. I was unprepared for what came out of his mouth next. “You just need to find yourself a big, strong, walking-space-heater boyfriend who can keep you nice and cozy.”

I choked on my own spit for a few moments before glaring, “Says you! You're the one who's always complaining about being single!” Newt waved off my accusations.

“Doesn't matter. The arteries in my appendages work properly.” Then he winced, adding, “Well, in most of my appendages.” I chose to ignore his latter comment, not wishing to relive the memories of seeing Newt half-dead in the Med-hut.

“I don't need a boyfriend,” I said decisively. Newt chuckled, but let it go.

Or so I thought.

The next day, I ventured back to my hut during lunch to retrieve my sketchbook and found a folded hoodie on the bed. It was thick, soft, and I could already imagine how warm it would be. I wasn't sure where it came from until I saw the note—Hey weirdo, found this in the extra clothing. Seemed like it would be warmer than your flimsy women's jackets. Newt :)

Well, that made sense. Newt had the other key to my hut—he was the only one I trusted enough to have such an honor. I smiled softly when I realized this was another attempt by Newt to help me with my Raynaud's. It was sweet, and the hoodie was incredibly comfy. It was also quite big on me; sleeves going well past my fingertips and bottom hem reaching the middle of my thighs. A nice lounging hoodie, then, but I wouldn't be wearing this out and around the Gladers. It would look like I had a boyfriend—I stopped and chuckled to myself.

“Newt, you crafty boy.” He wanted me to wear it out and make the Gladers think I had a boyfriend. As if it was a punishment for not pursuing an actual relationship, or something. “I'm not falling for your tricks,” I said, despite the fact that Newt was not in my hut and I was currently alone. Folding the hoodie again, I shoved it into the makeshift dresser that Gally had crafted me (after a lot of whining and begging on my part, I must admit). Satisfied with its new home among my things, I left my new hoodie and went back to work.

That evening, as I helped Frypan wash the dishes from supper, an annoyed looking Gally burst in, causing Fry to jump and then chuckle to himself. “Whaddya need, Gal?” But the Keeper of the Builders didn't respond, instead storming straight towards me with clenched fists. I dropped the pan I was holding onto the counter, where it made a clang and then proceeded to fall to the ground. I only half noticed, because backing up with my hands raised in defense. When Gally was angry, he was scary.

“Did you steal my hoodie?” Gally ground out as he reached me, getting up in my face so I had no choice but to look at him.

“No! I'm not a thief,” I scoffed. “Besides, it wouldn't even fit me.” Gally scowled but seemed somewhat appeased, taking a step back. I breathed out a sigh of relief, glad to have a break from the direct energy of heady masculinity that Gally carried with him everywhere. But then Gally turned back to me, as if his suspicions were renewed.

Giving me an appraising once-over, Gally informed me, “Newt told me that you'd probably stolen it. I usually believe him, but maybe he was wrong in this case.” He squinted at me, as if this new information would squeeze a confession out of me. Instead, I found myself growing angry at a certain blond Brit with a limp.

He'd lied. That hoodie wasn't from the extra clothing. It was Gally's. This was some outrageous plot by Newt to secure me a boyfriend. What a meddler, I thought to myself. He needs to take his own advice.

“Actually, Gally, I do think I know where your hoodie is,” I caught the Builder's attention. “But to find it, we need to go talk to Newt.” Grabbing the sleeve of Gally's shirt, I pulled him along behind me until we came across the Second-in-Command, who looked at the two of us with a pleased little grin.

“And what do we have here?” Newt joked before processing the angry expressions on our faces. He backed away subtly, but Gally's arm shot out to grasp his shoulder, effectively anchoring him in place. Newt chuckled uneasily, “What's going on, guys?”

“You tell me,” I snapped. “Gally almost murdered me this morning because somebody told him that I stole his sweatshirt. Imagine my surprise when I found out that it was you who provided him with this information.” Newt gave me a placating smile, attempting to garner some sympathy. It didn't work.

“Newt, why don't you explain to Gally where his hoodie is, and how it came to be there? It's only fair, since you lied to him about who stole it.” Newt sighed, knowing that he would not be getting out of it this time.

“Fine.” Then he addressed Gally, “I stole your hoodie and gave it to Y/N.” Gally's body tensed like he was going to pounce on Newt, who held up his hands. “Wait! Before you beat me up, can I at least explain why I stole it?” Gally slowly relaxed and nodded stiffly. “Y/N has Raynaud's Disease. Her body is overly sensitive to temperatures, and so the arteries in her arms and legs close to preserve warmth even when it's barely chilly. She gets super cold and her hands and feet turn purple and blue from lack of blood flow. None of her jackets are warm enough to stop these attacks when they happen, but your hoodie is.” Newt looked Gally in the eyes pointedly. “That's why I stole it.”

At first, I thought it was just my imagination, but no, Gally's expression really had softened. “Oh,” he said simply, turning to me with a smile and adding, “Keep it, then.” My jaw dropped in astonishment, but the Builder wasn't finished. He turned his attention back to Newt, smirking. “Next time, just ask.” Then he walked away, leaving Newt and I to wonder at the interaction.

It was only a few evenings later that I heard a knock on my hut door, pausing my late night sketching to open it. Clad only in Gally's hoodie and leggings, I stared wide-eyed at the man himself as he presented me with a whittled sign that read Y/N's hut. Stumbling over his words, the Keeper of the Builders proceeded to ask me out, gaining an enthusiastic “yes!” from me and a knowing grin from Newt.

We got two months of cuddling, kissing, and falling in love before everything went to shit.

[<3]

SEEING GALLY again in the Last City after spending months mourning him; believing he was dead, was like getting whiplash inside my heart. At first, I couldn't breathe or speak, the weight of the whole world forming a vacuum in my chest. In the back of my mind, I knew tears were flowing down my cheeks, but I was too busy staring at this dead man walking to wipe them away.

And then he was on the ground, getting punched by Thomas, getting called a murderer, and I felt my heart tense, still so protective over the boy I loved. Or maybe the man I loved, I thought, noting how his muscles had filled out and his frame had gotten larger.

The Gally I had known would never have taken a punch like that. Never would have offered his face to the others, turned the other cheek. I couldn't tell if it was a sign of maturity, or if he was just a different person now. But whatever changes had taken place, it didn't stop him from turning to me and opening his arms for a hug, an action that used to send me barreling towards him at breakneck speed so I could leap into his arms. He looked hopeful, like he was letting a tiny hint of optimism shine through at the hope that I'd behave just like old times.

I never could resist those puppy dog eyes. Within seconds, I was leaping into his hold, arms and legs wrapped tightly around his sturdy frame, burying my face in the comforting, familiar scent of his neck. His skin was damp with sweat, but in the moment, I couldn't care less, because I was embracing the man I loved who I'd thought was dead. Something as trivial as perspiration wasn't going to deter me from this embrace.

I lifted my head up from its nook in the curve of Gally's neck when I heard, “We watched you die.” Gally's response broke my heart.

“No, you left me to die.” I leaned in close to his ear and whispered,

“I tried to stay with you. I really did.” I still remembered the feeling of two grown men—who I now knew were WCKD soldiers—dragging me, kicking and flailing, away from the body of the only boy I'd ever been in love with.

Gally patted my arm, “I know you did, Y/N.” Then he grinned with that small, sensitive smile of his; “Did you stay warm, my little ice princess?” I rolled my eyes at the cheesy nickname. He'd been calling me his little ice princess since the day Newt had explained my Raynaud's to him, and though I found it annoying at first, it became a sweet token of affection.

“Always,” I assured Gally, squeezing him tighter, still in awe that he was here; alive and well.

Now that I had him again, I was never going to let him go.

[<3]

“BABY, I have to go to work,” Gally chuckled quietly, attempting to pry me from where I was tucked under his arm, latched onto his body with a death grip. I buried my face in his sweatshirt, resisting his attempts to pull the fabric out of my hands, the ice-cold tip of my nose finding soothing warmth near his body.

“No!” I whined, balling my fists even tighter around the fabric of his shirt. If he truly wanted to leave, he’d have already pried my hands off. We both knew that. So I embraced the role of clingy girlfriend fully, wrapping my legs around his waist tightly. Pressing myself as close to his body as possible, I sighed, content, at the heat practically emanating from him. “Now you can’t leave,” I mumbled. “You’re stuck.”

“Sure,” Gally mused, brushing hair out of my eyes with a tender shine in his eyes. Then he began to slowly extricate himself from my grip. I let out a yelp as the cold air immediately filled the space he had been, a pout forming on my lips.

“The sun isn’t even up yet! We could still be asleep right now! Why do you have to be at work so early?” I groaned.

“Because I’m working on that project for Vince, remember?”

“The stupid one that keeps you busy all the time?”

“That’s the one,” my boyfriend smiled cheekily. Then his gaze turned soft again, his large hands rubbing along my back soothingly. I arched into the warmth, curling my toes up under my body to try and keep them warm.

“Gally, I’m cold,” I whispered, one last attempt to get him to cuddle a while longer. But he just grinned.

“I know what you’re doing, my little ice princess.” I frowned and found myself sticking my tongue out, an instinctual reaction to not getting my way. It was something I only did around Gally—maybe it was a bit childish of me, but he was my safe space. I felt okay letting a bit of my inner child peek through.

“Here, I'll help you get warm,” Gally compromised, rummaging around in our dresser. He pulled one of his Henleys out of the drawer followed by a thick, oversized hoodie. I was still smushed into my pillow, but Gally slowly lifted my upper body until I was sitting up, guiding my arms into the sleeves of the Henley before pulling it over my head. The olive green fabric settled around me as I yawned, still half asleep despite my stubborn conversation with Gally. He put the hoodie on me next, smiling when I shivered in delight at the cozy warmth it provided. His next addition to my outfit was a pair of his sweatpants, grey ones with padded layering inside that made them super cozy. He helped me pull them on before grabbing some extra fuzzy socks and slipping them onto my feet.

“Warmer now?” he asked with a soft smile. Already, the added coziness of his clothes was making me sleepier again, and I nodded with half-lidded eyes. “Alright, then, baby,” he chuckled. “I’ll see you after work. Enjoy your day off.”

“Love you,” I murmured sleepily, just barely catching his answering “I love you, too, princess” before drifting off to sleep.

the end.

#fanfiction #fluff #one shot #the maze runner #gally #angst #gally x reader #gally imagine #gally maze runner #gally x y/n #gally x you #the maze runner imagine #autoimmune disease #raynaud's syndrome #spoonie!reader

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